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suzukiblu · 2 months

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is there a way to read all of "JayKon soulmates, TimKon datemates, and the wrong Superboy." in one spot? going through the tag it's all jumbled, and it's one of my favorite fics of yours

Thank you! I like that one, I'm really pleased with how it's been coming out. ❤

Honestly, there is not an "all in one place" version of it, though, so have this read-more that will fix that problem for you, friend. This is the whole WIP so far (barring, like, some out-of-order bits that have not yet been woven into the larger whole, haha).

There's a couple of ways to ID a soulmate, but the traditional–and usual–one is a kiss. Basically any exchange of bodily fluids will do it, of course, but most people kiss way before they get around to fucking bareback and a kiss is also definitely less likely to result in hepatitis than swapping blood with strangers. And, like, it's also more romantic and that tends to appeal to people more even when the involved soulmates aren't actually romantic. It's way easier to laugh off that one time you slipped your destined BFF tongue than it is to explain a bloodborne illness to your GP.

So naturally, Jason finds out who his soulmate is by accidentally bleeding all over the guy in the middle of a random stupid throwdown with supervillains in San Francisco.

Also, naturally said guy is Tim's boyfriend who still justifiably hates Jason's ass for all the fucked-up shit he's done and said to Tim.

Jason is pretty sure this would count as another reason for Superboy to hate his ass, except the one mercy in this situation is that Superboy was unconscious for their accidental blood-swap, so he at least doesn't know they're soulmates.

The lucky bastard.

Fuck everything, Jason thinks, and then resolves to never think about it again. Which he doesn't, because even having a thought around Bruce is basically the same thing as handing the bastard a signed confession.

It sucks, admittedly? Like, Jason's not gonna pretend it doesn't suck. He didn't ever think he'd get a coffee shop meet-cute with his soulmate, assuming he had enough of a soul left to actually have one, but he'd at least expected to get somebody who wasn't already dating the brother he's treated worst and who did not, ideally, hate his guts.

Or who at least hated his guts in a sexy way that could result in a nice enemies-with-benefits situation to spice up his sex life and maybe hopefully one day evolve into . . . he doesn't know, frenemies-with-benefits? Or something?

Superboy is not gonna be up for cheating on his boyfriend with said boyfriend's adoptive brother, Jason is very damn sure. For one thing, if he was, Jason wouldn't want to fuck him anyway, much less be his soulmate. Jason is a murderer and a bastard but he is also a ride or die, okay, and he doesn't give a shit what the universe says, there is no damn way that he'd accept a soulmate like that.

Also, like, since the accidental blood-swap went down, now when they get close enough there's an empathy bond going and Jason can absolutely feel how fucking besotted Superboy is by every little thing Tim does and says and just is.

And he can also feel how much the guy hates him.

Jason has never had better control of his pit rage than since realizing that if Superboy ever felt it, it'd be absolutely undeniably obvious what it was and where it was coming from.

It is fucking amazing what a desperate person can get a handle on. Like, really.

Jason went to fucking therapy for this shit. It sucks and he hates it and he wants to burn down the whole stupid office every time, but he's still going every week because fuck forbid he lose control enough that somebody realize something is up.

Jason's self-control is not helped by the fact that Superboy has his own anger issues, but it's not like they get all that close to each other all that often anyway. He very rarely has to worry about Superboy picking up on anything from him. Mostly he just has to worry about not being any worse to Tim than he already has been and making excuses to avoid any situation that Superboy might theoretically pop up in. He has absolutely no designs on fucking up Tim's relationship. Ever.

He guesses he and Superboy could have a platonic bond, admittedly. Like, that's possible.

Except Superboy constantly insists on wearing a painted-on bodysuit and studded black leather and strappy belts and looking like a porn star parody of a superhero, along with regularly smirking like a cocky asshole who just so happens to be the second coming of sin, and Jason has a very difficult time not finding all of that just unspeakably hot, so that seems unlikely.

So yeah, Jason's definitely not telling anyone that they're soulmates. Possibly ever. At least not as long as Superboy and Tim are still into each other and in undeniably perfect romantic love, anyway.

It's not like Jason's waiting for them to break up or something, or for the probably likelier but much more upsetting option that is Tim fucking dying. He's a bastard, again, but he's not that kind of a bastard.

He really hopes this is just one of those bullshit bonds that don't actually become relevant until the involved bondmates are, like, octogenarians or whatever. Which is not something Jason would've ever expected to want from his soulmate, but Jason also did not ever expect his soulmate to turn out to be Tim's boyfriend, so yeah. Well, life's a bitch and also full of surprises.

It's impossible to always avoid Superboy, all things considered, but Jason usually can, and thanks to Bat-training and his time with the League and just who he is as a person he's very good at keeping his emotions on lockdown when the dude's around without it actually looking like he's keeping his emotions on lockdown. Mostly he just ignores him and acts like he thinks he's irrelevant, and Superboy seems perfectly happy with that.

But again, it's impossible to always avoid him, and they're on the same side and everything, more or less. Jason therefore can't technically bitch about the guy randomly landing in the middle of his rooftop stakeout wearing that cocky asshole smirk of his and also his painted-on bodysuit and studded black leather.

Or he couldn't, except that it is very obviously not actually Superboy wearing all those things. For starters, Superboy never wears that smirk when he's looking at Jason.

For another thing, Jason knows his own damn soulmate when he sees him. Like, he is not actually that oblivious or stupid a person as to not recognize his own damn soulmate.

"Hey, man," fake Superboy greets casually as his boots hit the roof. Jason runs the internal numbers on whether or not fake Superboy has real Kryptonian powers and decides better safe than sorry, then hits the panic button hidden in the collar of his jacket as he turns to fully face him, making the gesture look like an idle adjustment.

"Robin need something?" he asks, cocking his head questioningly. Seems wisest to pretend like he's falling for this bullshit, whatever it is. Especially if Kryptonian powers are currently a concern.

"Naw," the fake Superboy says, his smirk widening crookedly. "This one's an . . . off-the-books social call, as it were."

"Oh, we make social calls, now?" Jason asks dryly, resisting the irrational urge to hit his panic button again. Not actually a helpful urge, that. The thing's already streaming live audio and video to Oracle and the Batcomputer to get everyone in the loop on what the problem is, that's all that matters. Extra hitting would just make it likelier that fake Superboy might notice something.

"Maybe I just wanted to see you, Hood," fake Superboy says as his smirk turns into a wicked grin, and then steps towards Jason with very familiar and incredibly unsubtle body language that, again, has never once been directed towards him.

Goddammit.

Well, good thing Jason hit his panic button, because there is no damn way this is ending well. He's never actually used the thing before, it's a recent addition to his gear now that he and the Bats are actually mostly working together again, but he already appreciates said addition very, very much.

Assuming that Bruce is packing kryptonite tonight, anyway.

Fuck, he'd better be.

. . . also assuming that whoever this fake Superboy is happens to be vulnerable to kryptonite. Or at least currently happens to be vulnerable to kryptonite. Jason's not sure if this is like a bodyswap situation or a more traditional possession or just a doppelganger or a shapeshifter, but who the hell even knows. Not mind control, he's pretty sure, unless it's the kind that really fucks with somebody's personality. Like, yes, that is Superboy's body language and Superboy's facial expressions and even Superboy's microexpressions, but it's just . . . not Superboy behind any of it. Like, very obviously not.

. . . weirdly obviously, actually. Like, Jason's really feeling the uncanny valley right now.

Ugh.

Well, hopefully this person or thing or weird psychic projection thinks he's fucking stupid.

"Did you now," Jason says, eyeing fake Superboy through his helmet. Schooling his expression doesn't really matter right now, except of course X-ray vision is a thing, so actually never mind, maybe it does. Again: goddammit.

Definitely gonna need to keep a handle on his heart rate here.

"Eh, what can I say, Rob was being a basic bitch again and I got bored," fake Superboy says with a dismissive shrug, which is something Jason would pistol-whip the real Superboy for saying but at least provides him a pretty solid script to go off while he waits for reinforcements to show.

He'd rather be making with the pistol-whipping, though.

"'Bored', huh," he says instead because if this is somebody hitching a ride in or fully copying Superboy's body, there is no fucking way that he is coming out on top in a one-v-one with a Kryptonian hybrid. He might be able to get away, maybe, but then he'd be leaving a probably pissed-off fake Superboy with free rein on his territory and every reasonably innocent person in it.

Yeah, that seems like a stupid idea.

"What can I say, I like a bad boy," fake Superboy says, smirking at him again. Jason would be embarrassingly into that smirk, if not for the fact that it's not Superboy wearing it. Right now, he just wants to deck this fucker. "Don't you?"

"I could maybe see the appeal," Jason says, though he doesn't usually. Honestly, he's more a romantic than anything else. He knows he won't ever get that, especially considering what he's done and who his soulmate is and how very, very disgustingly in love with his brother said soulmate is, but–not the point. Either way, Jason's not gonna be honest about his taste in partners with a damn fake version of his goddamn soulmate.

"Yeah, I bet you could," fake Superboy says with a wider smirk as he steps in a little closer, all the way into Jason's personal space. All of Jason's internal alarms go off, his spine prickling in restless discomfort.

He really, really hopes Bruce is packing kryptonite tonight.

“We're taking bets now?” Jason snorts dubiously. Fake Superboy grins at him, and it's worse than the smirking because it's not just a suggestive come-on, it's one of the pleased looks the real Superboy would never give him. Something he saves for Tim or Steph or Dick or literally just anyone else. He's pretty sure he's seen him grin like that at Bruce, even.

Though it admittedly does lack some of its usual effect when Jason can't feel any of the emotions behind it.

“You can take anything you want, Hood,” fake Superboy purrs, skimming a hand up Jason's chest. If he were Superboy, this would be the part where Jason called him an asshole and asked him what the fuck he thought he was doing, except if he were Superboy he'd never actually be doing this. Superboy loves Tim. Adores him. And he's not a desperate for attention teenager anymore, much less this kind of a selfish fucking prick.

So Jason is just stuck on this stupid fucking roof with a stupid fucking fake, and this fucking funhouse mirror is the closest he's ever getting to his own fucking soulmate.

The wait on this damn panic button better be a short one.

“‘Anything’, huh,” he says, folding his arms. The fake Superboy gives him another smirk and taps his fingers against the underside of Jason's jaw, just where his helmet fastens.

The fastener clicks, and his helmet falls apart and falls right off him and into fake Superboy's hands. Jason should've left the bomb in it.

Tactile telekinesis. Okay. So the fucker does have access to Superboy's powers, one way or another.

Fuck.

At least Jason wore his domino tonight. He doesn't know what this asshole actually knows, and he might be legally dead, but compromising any Bat-related identities is still not the place to start.

“You're too damn hot to wear this clunky-ass thing all the time, you know,” fake Superboy says, turning over Jason's helmet in his hands and still smirking at him. Jason would really like to make with the pistol-whipping right now. “Real waste of a pretty face.”

“We don't all have bulletproof skulls,” Jason says dryly, and fake Superboy laughs.

“You'd be bulletproof if I got my hands on you,” fake Superboy points out casually, which is not actually an application of TTK Jason was aware of but does raise a lot of questions he is not going to internally explore. Ever.

“Who said you were getting your hands on me?” he says, and the fake Superboy laughs and taps his fingers against Jason’s helmet.

“Dunno,” he says, tilting his head with a sly expression. “I wouldn’t mind it the other way around either, though.”

Fuck his life, Jason thinks.

“I’m on the clock here, you realize,” he says, and fake Superboy laughs again and then pulls a mock-pout.

“C’mon, Hood. Told you, I’m bored,” he says, somehow actually managing to find the space to step in closer without quite touching him. His grin is a sharp, glittering thing. “Play hooky with me.”

This panic button cannot possibly work fast enough, Jason thinks.

“Fuck it, whatever,” he says, because fake Superboy is clearly not taking no for an answer here and he just needs to buy a little time for someone to get here. Hell, even if fake Superboy were taking no for an answer, he’d probably still want to keep the asshole around as opposed to letting him slip off and put on who knows who else’s face. Better to get him while they’ve got him clocked, one way or the other. “It’s been dead all night anyway. What do you want?”

Fake Superboy’s grin widens. If he was the real one, Jason would want to bite him over that expression. Unfortunately, he’s not the real one. Again: fuck his fucking life.

“For starters, bet I could liven things up for you,” fake Superboy purrs, and then he props Jason’s helmet on his cocked hip and braces his free hand on the bricks behind him, leaning in close with an absolutely smug “coy” expression. Jason considers biting him in the not fun way.

Eh, no, he’d probably just break his fucking teeth.

It’s a fucking temptation, though.

“Yeah?” Jason drawls dubiously. “Big talk for a Super.”

Fake Superboy snickers.

“Yeah, they tell me I’ve got a big mouth,” he says with an obvious leer. “Wanna see?”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Jason asks, curling his lip in irritation, and fake Superboy laughs.

And then actually kisses him, the fucking shit.

Jason barely manages not to punch him for it. Again, he’d just break his knuckles.

The fake Superboy sticks his tongue in Jason's mouth and Jason gets absolutely no sense of a soulmate bond, so whatever's going on, Superboy is definitely not in the driver's seat right now, or just not home at all or what the fuck ever. So yeah, that's a no on mind control and probably also possession, and definitely not the effects of red or black K. Not that the total lack of empathy bond response all this time hadn't already proven that pretty damn thoroughly, considering.

Also, the real Superboy's always had a rep as a flirt and if nothing else definitely spends way too much time in Tim's back pocket to not be a better kisser than this by now. Seriously, Jason refuses to believe that he is not, if only for Tim's sake. This prick kisses like he barely understands the concept.

Fucking figures, Jason thinks, and crushes their mouths together.

Fake Superboy kisses like a fucking middle schooler, and Jason is absolutely exasperated about having to put up with it. Like–it’d be one thing if it was actually Superboy kissing him like this, and if Superboy wasn’t dating his fucking brother. Then he’d probably think it was funny. Or even kind of cute, honestly, especially with how the guy preens and postures and plays it up.

And then he’d get to teach him how to kiss better, too, and fucking relish the process.

This, unfortunately, is not that situation. This is just some asshole wearing the face of the hottest bastard Jason knows and not doing it justice with his sub-par kissing skills.

. . . actually–“her” sub-par kissing skills, maybe? Jason actually has no fucking clue if this is a man or a woman, does he. For all he knows this is an actual middle schooler, which holy fucking Christ, is an absolutely disgusting thought. If this is some kid with shapeshifting powers who somebody coached into this, Jason is going to crack out the good ol’ bloody duffel bag and start collecting heads again.

He’s pretty sure they’re not, at least, because they might suck at kissing but they don’t move like their body is too big or anything like that. Then again, they don’t move like their body doesn’t fit either, so their powers might be accounting for that. Or–whatever they’ve currently got going. Maybe it’s a fucking spell or maybe it is possession and the muscle memory is keeping Superboy’s body moving at least semi-normally. Again: this asshole has this act down to the microexpressions.

It’s just so, so screamingly obviously fake all the same, though.

Jason breaks off the kiss to bare his teeth at said fake, who grins at him all crooked and sultry-warm. Jason, again, debates the merits of breaking his knuckles on this asshole’s face.

“You can’t kiss for shit,” Jason says bluntly, because only a fucking idiot wouldn’t notice that anyway, and fake Superboy laughs.

“Aw, you don’t like it like Rob does?” he asks teasingly, his grin widening as he leans forward a little heavier on the arm he has against the bricks. Jason is absolutely fucking offended that fake Superboy is trying to convince him that any brother of his would ever settle for kissing that fucking mediocre, much less like it. As fucking if. “Why don’t you show me what you like, Hood? I’ll roll out the red carpet."

Jason should tase this piece of shit. Jason should <i>shoot</i> this piece of shit. Unfortunately, this still might be Superboy’s body even without him in it, and he didn’t pack kryptonite tonight either way. Assuming, again, that kryptonite would even work.

He’s absolutely never skipping the kryptonite again, though. Not after this bullshit. He’s going full Lex Luthor and getting himself a pair of kryptonite brass knuckles, in fact. And not in blue: he’s going green.

“You really think I wanna hear about Robin right now?” he says in the hopes the fucker will shut up a little, and fake Superboy just smirks and loops his arm around his neck, pressing fully up against him. Jason is wearing body armor, obviously, but that doesn’t make him feel particularly safe right now. The TTK alone would be an issue, even discounting Kryptonian strength. Fake Superboy could flatten him like a fucking panini with about as much effort as actually making a panini would take right now.

So like, that’s a concern.

“So still the jealous type, huh?” fake Superboy purrs, tilting his head a little. He’s much better at “come-hither” looks than he is at kissing, Jason can’t help noticing, which is fucking irritating. He’s also still got Jason’s helmet held against his hip. Jason is weirdly annoyed by that. “How about I just call you ‘Robin’ tonight, then?”

Jason did so much therapy to not have this exact fucking fucked-up sexual fantasy. Just so much.

He is definitely shooting this shithead before the night is over.

“Try it and I’ll shoot you in the fucking dick,” he says flatly, because there’s playing along and there’s shit he just cannot truck with, and fake Superboy laughs.

“Kinky,” he says approvingly. Jason thinks longingly of kryptonite.

He really, really hopes kryptonite works on this fucker. It’d have to, right? TTK isn’t exactly a standard-issue superpower; the fake’s got to at least have copied Superboy’s body, and that means copying his vulnerabilities.

Hopefully.

Of course, Jason doesn’t actually know jack shit about what’s actually going on here and narrowing it down isn’t working half as well as it could be, so . . . fuck if he actually knows if it’d work.

He really doesn’t appreciate not being prepared in a crisis. Like–that is the literal antithesis of his entire fucking approach to life, is what it is.

He’s going to need an extra therapy session this week, he’s pretty sure. Possibly several. Maybe he’ll just call his therapist first thing after they wrap this bullshit up, actually, assuming he survives it. That might be for the best.

Or literally psychologically fucking necessary so he won’t snap and turn into a literal supervillain. One or the other.

“You’re seriously overestimating my patience, Superboy,” he says flatly. The fake looks pleased, presumably because he still thinks Jason’s falling for this stupid act.

“Don’t be such a pill,” fake Superboy says, smirking at him. The idea of pistol-whipping him sounds better and better. It’s almost definitely not gonna work, yeah, but that doesn’t mean Jason wouldn’t try it. “Why don’t you just be nice to me, and I’ll give you plenty of reasons not to be jealous tonight. Or at least don’t bore me as bad as Rob’s been, if nothing else."

Jason is going to burn down . . . mmmmmaybe all of Gotham tonight, actually. Like. Just all of it. Completely. Entirely.

#anonymous #wip: jaykon soulmates and timkon datemates

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morganski-19 · 3 months

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I cannot stop myself from thinking of more fic ideas or making more wips. But, I had an idea for a bunch of short little ficlets that would all be in the same universe, and could be compiled into longer chapters to post on ao3, but probably won't.

I just need someone to tell me that it's worth it or it's stupid so I won't do it.

So here's the idea.:

Friends-style apartment shenanigans with the spicy six.

Like Steve and Robin as Joey and Chandler, best friends who's apartment is pure chaos.

Eddie and Nancy would be estranged high school friends (aka Monica and Rachel) who now live with each other across the way.

And of course, Steddie and Ronance would spawn from that.

Jonathan and Argyle are best friends who live with each other across the street. It's always a question of whether or not they are dating yet because they sure act like it and already live together. (They aren't but that's not the point (they will be eventually)).

Argyle gives Pheobe vibes, so he fits that part perfectly. Jonathan would be Ross because I ran out of people but be significantly better of a person than Ross. (Ignore that Ross slander, I hate that man)

But anyway, it would just be a bunch of weird situations that they all get into just living in the city, so real story arc or anything other than the couples getting together in the end. But it could be something like, Steve buys something weird and they talk about it for a while, or one of them gets a promotion and the celebrate. The last person Steve slept with (cause he's the Joey in this situation if that wasn't clear) had a weird belly button.

Just weird shit that doesn't really have a point for a whole fic but is fun to read/write. Like a sitcom.

Would anyone read this?

#wip help #i can't stop thinking of fic ideas and they'll never get written #so i've started looking for interest so i can pick easier #stranger things #steddie #ronance #jargyle #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #friends au #fanfic idea #fic idea

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tackytigerfic · 3 months

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Never have I ever…. There was only one bed!!!!!! pls and thank youuuuu, only if it sparks joy etc etc etc!! 😘

hello, my lovely! thank you so much for the ask.

According to my AO3 tag search, I have written this twice! Once in Dreaming Skies which was co-written by @sweet-s0rr0w (which we are both really fond of, it's a Dron getting together fic set on a dragon reserve in Romania and we got to write so much lovely world-building and magical theory stuff and there's a baby dragon and Draco wears a funny hat lmao)

Apparently I also wrote this in If It Takes All Night but I'm not sure that it works for this trope as such, as they're already having to share a bed because they've been cursed to have to touch each other at all times. So the prospect of any other beds is moot anyway?!

Oh and in Power Lines, before they get together they end up sharing one-bedroom motel rooms (it's an American road trip fic) because Draco is a poor student and is too proud to let Harry pay for separate rooms—how convenient.

I was going to talk about how I'd write this trope now but then remembered I actually have it in my current WIP, a Voldemort-lives wartime AU. They have to move into Harry's room because there isn't space for people to have their own rooms once Malfoy and Potter arrive from another universe. Here's a snip of them in their bed — this is when they're still in the enemy part of their relationship lol. CW for canon-typical violent thoughts ie Harry wanting to punch Draco. They're arguing about the other universe's Malfoy here as Draco thinks Harry has a crush on him.

The bed was soft under Harry’s knees when he landed, fury lending him speed, and he ignored Draco’s shocked inhale and the affronted wriggle of his warm body away from Harry where he leant over him.

“Shut up,” Harry said, and Draco pulled even further back, shoulders pressing into the headboard of the bed. “Shut up about all of it. You haven’t a clue how I feel. He’s my friend, actually, though it makes sense that you wouldn’t get that. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Such good friends that you’re sneaking around behind his boyfriend’s back,” Draco said, and Harry hated the sneering roll of his mouth, and the plump smooth curve of his unblemished cheek, and the warm clean smell of his hair—every part so violently him.

“At least I talk to him. To both of them," Harry said, leaning heavier on the duvet. Draco’s legs splayed awkwardly where he was trying to avoid Harry's weight. “No one else in this whole fucking place is trying to work with them. I’m the only one who sees how much they could help us.”

“Every single time your magic sparks off Potter's, you could be eroding the edges of the world,” Malfoy said. “Though there’ll be no Voldemort if the very fabric of our universe is destroyed, I suppose. One point for Team Reckless.”

Harry hadn’t hit anyone in years, probably not since Draco himself, in school, but he wanted to so badly that he could feel the hopeful tingle of it through his palm, out into the fingertips and collecting in his balled fist. Interrogate the feeling, Bill would say if he were here. Let yourself feel what you need to feel. Harry suspected “violent desire to punch Draco Malfoy right in his smug mouth” was not quite what Bill had in mind, though you never knew with Bill.

“Do you know what it’s like?” Harry said, pressing his hands flat against his own thighs, bearing down into the shifting muscle, grounding himself above Draco’s restless body. “Being me, I mean. Do you know what it’s like?”

“I don’t even know how to answer that,” Draco said. His colour was high in the spill of moonlight, throat swallowing convulsively. “Of course I don’t.”

“Just imagine,” Harry said quietly. From next door came the low sound of laughter. Malfoy had made it to bed, then. “Imagine being in pain all the time, horrible sick-making pain from all the Occlumency. And all the fighting. Years of it, Draco, years and years.” Under his palms he could feel the tremble of exhaustion in the stretch of his leg muscles. He straightened, stretched, then lifted himself up and off Draco so he could flop down onto the bed. The pillow was cool and firm under his hot cheek, and he closed his eyes. After a moment he felt the bed shift as Draco wriggled back down to lying too. The pillow under Harry’s head dipped with the added weight of Draco’s head, and he kept his eyes closed.

#drarry #tacky's fth #asked and answered #never have i ever ask game #thank you dear mama!#lovely to see your name pop up in my inbox #rowing and chatting #dron

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aprillikesthings · 7 days

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So I am fascinated by how some fandoms just...spontaneously end up with some tropes repeating over and over in fic (especially explicit fics)

Like, I've never been in a fandom that had many coffee shop au's, but I know there are fandoms where they're super popular. There are fandoms with absolutely massive amounts of omegaverse and fandoms with like, none.

And sometimes it's obvious why a particular fandom ends up with a popular fic tropes: Steven Universe fandom has a lot of high-school au's. She-Ra has a lot of university au's. (These are probably the same authors at least some of the time!)

But sometimes it's a complete fucking mystery to me???

And a thought/question about explicit catradora fics under the readmore:

With the obvious disclaimer that I have not read a double-digit percentage of the explicit catradora fics on ao3 (seriously there's 1,668 of them as of right now), I have read uhhh maybe a dozen or two dozen of them?

And I'm dying to know: why is tribbing (i.e. rubbing your vulva on someone's body; sometimes the other person's vulva but in this fandom usually their thigh) so INSANELY COMMON in catradora fics?

I say this knowing that before I even read fics in this fandom, I'd already written my own tribbing scene into my current WIP! So like, I'm including myself here. I didn't even know it was such a huge thing when I wrote it. Like, I think it was the first sex scene I wrote for that fic. So it wasn't just from seeing it in other fics, which would be the obvious reason.

So imagine my surprise and amusement when I started inhaling fics and "rubbing off on each other's thighs" is INCREDIBLY common in catradora fics, whether they're pre-canon or mid-canon or post-canon or non-fantasy au or those au's where they're on modern Earth but all the partially-animal characters are still partially-animal, so like, Catra works an office job but still has cat ears and a tail (I admit I love these)

So now I'm sitting here going: why is that the sex act so many of us write???? Like we might also write oral and fingering and whatever else, don't get me wrong.

If it was just canon-ish fics I could sort of see it: I could imagine a situation where all of us are looking at Catra's claws and possibly-rough tongue and going uhhhhhhh...hm. But...everyone manages to get around that! We decide that Catra can retract her claws. Either her tongue is closer to a human's or Adora's into it lol.

I've had some theories.

My first thought was that rather than "take turns" they can kiss and face each other the whole time? And we really want that for them? (But...there are other sex acts where you can do that.)

But maybe also it's the kind of thing that is the obvious next step when frantically making out (as one might when you finally get to kiss/fuck the person you've loved and wanted most while also actively tried to hurt for the last multiple years...don't mind me just having. feelings. again. ;_;) and not wanting to separate for even a second???

I mean I say this knowing a couple of weeks ago I posted about how the first time I made out with another girl, when I was 17, she shoved her knee into my crotch and I nearly came even though we were both fully dressed lol

So are we all basing it on our own first times with another girl? Because I know that's why I wrote it.

Anyway, likely nobody will see this post lol, BUT, if you read or write she-ra/spop fics lemme know if you've noticed this (like seriously is it just the fics I personally happen to have read?) and if you have theories

Because this is not my first f/f pairing or fandom for which I have read and/or written a ton of fics (lol), but this is the first one where like, nearly every explicit fic has had "rub it out on each other's thighs while making out, either dressed or naked" in it lol

#spop #catradora #april writes

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fragilecapric0rnn · 5 months

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✨ Fic Writing Review 2023 ✨

Tagged by the wonderful @thefreakandthehair <3<3 thank you my friend!! I've been taking a lil ST break but BOY did I brainrot all over the place the first half of this year! I do plan on coming back to my loves later this month/beginning of next for a few exchanges buuuut here are my stats <3<3

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

Words and Fics

Published word count is 99,128 and unpublished word count is ABOUT 10k (might be lowballing it here lol)

2 published WIPs and 5 unpublished WIPs

10 fics published

1 finished multi-chapter fic [Cheerfic, my beloved]

2 multi-chapter fics published and in-progress

Top 10 5 Fics by Kudos (i only have 10 published so I will be just doing Top 5)

Faces Freedom With A Little Fear ; What if Steve had an older sister the whole time?

Catch Me (I'm Falling) ; Early 2000s College Cheerleading AU, Steddie + Wheelingham

Slowly, All at Once, Inevitably, Out of Nowhere. ; Steddie First Kiss Fic

one single thread of gold tied me to you ; Steddie re-meeting in the 90s future fic

Anyway, It's About Old Friends ; When Harry Met Sally, Canon Divergence Steddie Fic

My fandom fic events in 2023

Lex's Spicy Six Fanworks Challenges for Spring and Summer and will be posting Winter later this month/beginning of next month!

Upcoming Events and Projects for 2023

A friend fic exchange! (it's a surprise and BOY am I excited for it)

More installments of the FRIENDS AU

Finishing the last half of AIAOF

The unpublished Lumax installment of the AIAOF universe

The Nancy College Deferment Fic

probably a lot more 90s!Steve in every way possible

Finishing the already plotted out Ronance Political AU

No pressure tagging some friends

@fastcardotmp3 @judasofsuburbia @gothbat99 @hellsfireclub @kkpwnall @cheatghost

+ anyone who sees this and wants to participate! Just say I tagged ya <33

#tag game #my fic #this was fun!#i wanna get back into writing so sooooo badly

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kaylinalexanderbooks · 17 days

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Bingo tag game

Thanks @oh-no-another-idea here, @illarian-rambling here, @melpomene-grey here, and @mk-writes-stuff here.

I got three different types here--

Rules 1: use this link, which will generate a writing bingo card for you!

Rules 2: use this link to create a Bingo card for your WIP and/or fill out the one the person who tagged you made

Rules 3: same as 2 but with an OC

Last Bingo Game: here

TSP Bingo (blank card)

Long Bingo where I did a blank Bingo for SOTL and Carla and filled in Bingos for Kelsey, Maddie, Noelle, Xitlali, and TSP as a whole

Tagging @gracehosborn @theeccentricraven @theelfauthor @dyrewrites @badluck990 @mysticstarlightduck @elsie-writes @little-peril-stories @loopyhoopywrites @bread-roses-and-chrome

Below cut:

Filled in writer bingo for me

Filled in WIP bingo for SOTL

Filled in OC bingo for Hye-Jin

Filled in OC bingo for Alex

Filled in OC bingo for Gretel

Filled in OC bingo for Jack

Blank bingo for IWAJAD

Blank bingo for Lexi

Version 1: Writer Bingo

[image ID in alt text]

Almost got a bingo noooo

If only I read more!! It's not by choice...

Version 2: WIP Bingo

SOTL

[image ID in alt text]

Red for definitely, yellow for maybe.

Damn no bingo, even with the yellow.

I'd have a Bingo if I included more evil fish people but I have incorporated it yet. So I do have a Bingo if that's the case.

Version 3: OC Bingo

Hye-Jin Song (TSP)

[image ID in alt text]

Bingo! Almost got two since she was originally short but I've changed that

A character I don't talk about nearly enough! I don't have any other posts exclusively about her yet :(

Hye-Jin is Lexi's lifelong friend who does not make an onscreen appearance until Part Two, though she does get a couple shout-outs in Part One.

Hye-Jin has a younger sibling, but I didn't highlight cause I'm pretty sure it meant she *is* one.

Alex Vaughn (TSP)

[image ID in alt text]

I think she's just appeared in excerpts. Time to fix that!

Alex is from another universe! A chronological deviant of the duoverse of the Ceteri and Alium that we know! (In other words - it's another version of Ceteri and Alium, the duoverse, i.e. two linked universes, that's different enough due to different choices individuals made)

Gretel Küchler (SOTL)

[image ID in alt text]

I may have mentioned her like once, but she was the only one who'd fill out a decent amount of the board.

Gretel is kind of obviously my Hansel and Gretel character. She's magicked, meaning she learned the skill of magic. She and her identical twin brother Hansel specialize in baking food that can help grant others temporary physical advancements.

If anyone of these end up changing and being inaccurate...I'll live it's okay I haven't written a scene with her.

Jack McDonald (SOTL)

[image ID in alt text]

Haha, bingo!!

De facto MC of SOTL so far. He's appeared a lot in SOTL's excerpts.

Jack was misdiagnosed as being gifted with ice manipulation powers, due to one obvious demonstration. In actuality, he's gifted in being average at everything. This does mean he actually can do literally everything, just averagely. (In other words, Jack of all Trades)

He's not autistic as of yet but probably ADHD. Some of these may change.

My Blank Bingos

It Was All Just a Dream

I already made Bingos for my active WIPs, so here we go with this one

[image ID in alt text]

It Was All Just a Dream is a story idea have had for a while that I have a draft of in the form of a short story. Short version is popular Kyla Tran goes through a night of layers of dreams that force her to reevaluate her life.

Lexi Morgan (TSP)

[image ID in alt text]

I meant ace/aro and you KNOW IT

And ignore that I spelled pedestal wrong as well...

Anyway, more Lexi: OC in fifteen, OC in three, Picrew, two truths and a lie, WIP questionnaire

TSP into

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

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bit-odd-innit · 10 months

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AO3 Down Post Uhhhhhhhhhh Brand New WIP That Wasn’t An Option On The WIP Poll Yet Inexplicably Is The Most Complete. First time writing Robin/Vickie!:

[Context is Steve cracked open a single egg with two yolks, Eddie told him that’s good luck and he needed to blow off work to spread his good fortune with the world because today is now EGG DAY. Steve is unconvinced but goes along with it anyway.]

They’re still arguing when they swing by the diner to meet Robin. “Back me up,” he says to her as he snags one of her fries. “The universe doesn’t guarantee you a good day just because one morning you decided to make an omelette.”

“You misrepresent me,” Eddie counters. “Egg Day is merely a positive portent. A good omen. A sign that emphatically declares there’s a pretty good chance today won’t suck.” “I don’t know, I think I’m with Eddie on this one.” Steve huffs indignantly. “I think it’s nice to believe there’s magic in the world.” She purses her lips. “Magic that’s not actively trying to kill us, that is.”

They’d missed the lunch rush; the dining room is sparse. Its quiet enough that any clattering of noise, no matter how small, draws attention. The bell above the entrance sounds with a glittery tingtingting. And there, at the counter, resplendent in a bright yellow sundress, is—

“Oh my God.” Robin is already beneath the table. “She can’t see me like this, I look like I belong in a garbage can.”

“That wasn’t on purpose?” Eddie asks.

“Steve, she hisses. "Do something.”

Steve raises one arm in the air and calls, “Vickie! Hey!”

“They’ll never find your body. I’m going to grind your bones to dust and use it to make mulch for my tomato garden hiiiiiiiii Vickie!” “Hi, guys!” She balances her takeout bag on her hip, gaze lingering on Robin. “Hi Robin.” ”Hi!” ”Hi.” Eddie opens his menu to shield the side of his face and mouths to Steve Jesus H Christ. Vickie, undeterred or oblivious, says, “Strange to see you outside of your post at Ye Olde Family Video.”

“I have off on Wednesdays.”

“Me too! I mean, I don’t have a job, so every day is kind of a day off.” Her smile dims. “It’s not like I’m doing nothing. I’ve been setting up some college visits, and band, you know band? You remember band?” “Yeah?” “So you remember what a total drill sergeant Stenman is.” She scrunches her nose, head twitching like a woodland creature trying to shake a dewdrop out of its fur. “Of course you do, you graduated like a month ago. I’m, uh, I’m also taking AP Calc with Bramowitz next year which is going to be absolute bear, but at present yeah I’m just fetching my lunch and bringing it back to my house to eat it which definitely seems like a whole lot of nothing now that I spell it out—“

“So you’re free.” Robin interjects.

“What?”

“What? Robin seems equally surprised the suggestion came from her. She sits up a little straighter and says, “Right now. You’re free.”

“I-yeah. Yeah I’m free.”

“Do you…want to do something together?”

Vickie glows, but quickly tempers it.

“Oh, are you sure? I don’t want to break up your gang hang.”

“I’ve never seen these bozos in my life.”

Steve stares unblinking into the middle distance. Eddie waves. “Okay!” Vickie says brightly. “Well, despite the fact I have never finished one by myself in my life, my hubris has lead me to once again order the Bubba Burger.” She twists her body to showcase the take-out bag, grease darkening the paper. Her expression softens. “We could...split it? If you’re hungry?” “Starving,” Robin says as she shoves her untouched tuna melt into Steve’s awaiting, open hands. Vickie beams, bouncing a little on her heels. “Great! There’s this park not too far from here, there’s like, a rose garden and a duck pond or whatever. But we don’t have to go there! We can eat anywhere! We can eat in the parking lot!—” “That sounds perfect,” Robin breathes. Vickie blinks. “The parking lot?” “No, the uh, the other thing.” “Right. Right.” She steps aside, gives Robin space to slide out of the booth, and turns toward the door. “Shall we?” Robin watches her for a beat, a gentle smile pulling at her lips. She opens her mouth to reply, and what comes out is, “I gotta use the wiz palace.” Steve smacks his palm to his forehead. “Cool. Cool cool cool. I’m parked out front, meet me at my car?” Robin, struck dumb by the incredibly stupid thing she just said, nods. “Cool.” She sets off, but not before glancing over her shoulder and adding, “I’m really glad I ran into you guys.” Robin stares after her and once the door closes, her head snaps to Steve. “I blacked out. What did I just agree to?”

#stranger things #steddie #robin/vickie #rockie #my fanfic

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nightimedreamersworld · 10 months

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Thank you for the tags today my lovelies @artsyunderstudy @martsonmars @forabeatofadrum @prettygoododds ❤️ sadly I still haven't had the time to take a look at your snippets (uni is killing me 💔) but I'm sure they're lovely! I can't wait to read your wips.

As for my own, well... I gave myself a head start on chapter 5 of wftbb (ew ugly acronym) and I thought I might finish it this week, but that was before I found out I have not one but TWO exams this week. Wednesday and Friday. RIP writing 🥲

Anyway. Hopefully next week will be calmer. Here's a snippet from chapter 3:

“I don’t see how quoting the Odyssey would help,” Penelope says as we walk along the edge of Victoria's park. “The whole story is about how some guy can’t seem to ever get home.” “But he does get there in the end,” Shepard chimes in. “After ten fucking years,” Simon grumbles. He’s obviously not happy about the prospect of staying here so long. I’m starting to share the sentiment. “Odysseus faced a lot of shit in that time,” Bunce says. "Luckily it will be easier to send you back.” “To another universe?” “Have a little faith, Simon.” She says it without magic, but I think we could all use a little motivation boost. So far, all our attempts—my attempts, specifically—have led Simon back to his flat in Hackney Wick. No matter if we were standing just outside his building or several streets away. Bunce even made me try out the spells she’d already used, but the outcome was the same. “Maybe the spell can’t differentiate between universes,” she mused. “It’s taking Simon back to his home, the place where he lives, but in this universe.” We all agreed that made sense. So, we decided to go further away—Victoria’s seemed like a good place, full of secluded spots to do magic away from Normal eyes. We tried all the spells from Bunce’s list—including Home is where you hang your hat, and Home is where your heart is. (Simon didn’t go anywhere for that one, not even when I cast it.)

Also, basically all chapters of this fic + the title were named after lyrics of this song

(It's basically the theme song for this fic lol)

Tagging some friends: @cutestkilla @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @larkral (just realized yesterday that ADA is done!!! Congrats and can't wait to read the ending!) @captain-aralias @palimpsessed @whogaveyoupermission @aristocratic-otter @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @stitchyqueer @confused-bi-queer @ivelovedhimthroughworse see yall Wednesday! (Or whenever I can lol)

#simon snow series #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz #we'll fix the busted bits #Spotify

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thefourchimes · 8 months

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Talking more about The Four Chimes AU because yes

so there’s been an interesting surge of apocalypse four (though most people call them vecna four) content recently, which i am very much thrilled to see

in line with that, i’m gonna share a bit more on the au that has been built from the ground up ever since last year, having definite arcs and various aus and sub aus of it already

the four chimes au

this universe has been mine and @lumaxramblings 's blood, sweat, and tears for the past year, ever since July 14

i've made a few posts about it, and shared some snippets on it in some wip weds and weekends, but i never fully explained the universe beyond the little bubble of the discord thread in the discord server im in

so let me explain now. we know this already but the apocalypse four are vecna's four sacrifices to make the four gates, but in this au, they're not just the four sacrifices. they're the four chimes too.

you see, vecna had a vision. he had remembered the story of the four horsemen of the apocalypse from a time victor creel had brought him and alice to the Church to listen

the four horsemen of the apocalypse, he had mused...and inspiration struck him.

he had a vision, and he saw it through.

and he got them all. he won.

and now he has his four horsemen of the apocalypse, or in this universe rather...his four chimes of catastrophe.

you all know who they are, but the question is, who is who? well, as @lumaxramblings has said in that fateful ask that started this whole universe in the first place, it would be:

chrissy = famine

fred = death

patrick = war

max = pestilence

as for the reason, canon itself gives some details and evidence to point out who would be who. (tw ed mention on chrissy's part)

chrissy is famine because of her eating disorder and her "hunger" to be free in a sense. fred is death because of his survivor's guilt and all the constant grave and death visuals. patrick is war because of his home life and how he's always in constant conflict. and finally, max is pestilence because of her thought process on being something that plagues others...and vecna!lucas' "you are sick."

there's quite a few more points that can be brought up, along with how some of the canon scenes actually fuel this universe, but i'll talk about that another time

so now, vecna's sacrifices are no longer who they were before everything.

now, they are his soldiers, his little experiments, his four chimes of catastrophe.

and just as they had been broken, they will now be the ones to break the world.

...

(but then...you remember, the apocalypse 4 weren't the only ones who got caught in vecna's curse and vision.

you know who else did?

nancy wheeler.

and in the four horsemen of the apocalypse lore, wasn't there something going on with the white rider of the horsemen? the fact that...there's a bit of confusion on whether the white rider is pestilence...or conquest?

...in another universe, nancy is conquest, the fifth chime of catastrophe.

an incomplete chime.

...but maybe that's a story for another day...)

—————————————————————————————————

i actually had started the fic of this already, but it's been a few months since i've updated it, oof :")

anyway, that's a bit of an explanation on the four chimes au.

it kind of becomes a s5 alternate universe in a sense? finnthony and i already have an idea on what happens all throughout the main story, complete with arcs already lmao (and that's not even talking about the sub-aus, like the conquest au...)

its lots of angst though, lemme tell you

i dont want to reveal too much but there is a lot of platonic and romantic dynamics here

platonic being the party's friendship (heh), the teens' friendship, best friend soulmates stobin ofc, and all other platonic relationships that can be connected with each member of this ragtag, traumatized group

for romance, we got lumax (with future elumax), byler, duzie, ronance, stongyle (aka steve x jonathan x argyle), jopper, and...well. a few others too, but i'll be keeping those quiet for now.

i’ll likely post more stuff at some point, to get it out here lmao and because this au is just <3

tagging the people who’ve been here all through out:

@laurienotteddy @mitski-slope @itsanotheridiot @hellsfireclub @history-of-stories @she-wont-miss

#four chimes #apocalypse four #vecna four #four chimes au #the four chimes au #max mayfield #fc pestilence #patrick mckinney #fc war #fred benson #fc death #chrissy cunningham #fc famine #nancy wheeler #fc conquest #stranger things #stranger things au #tw ed mention

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ask-the-bone-boys · 4 months

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WIP SNIPPETS!

HELLO i want to prove that i actually AM working on stuff (actually because i need to share things or i will explode) SO here are some sneak peeks for the three whole wips i've been cooking lately!!!!

Chapter 3 of Familiar Faces

(some context: "Papyrus" is Stretch, "Red-Papyrus" is Edge, they don't have their nicknames yet </3)

“Who designed all these, anyway?” Russ asked, squinting a bit as he poked at a powered-off laser. “I know a Papyrus wouldn’t come up with a display like this.”

“They’re mostly old puzzles from back when those were still a big thing,” Papyrus said. “We’ve been too busy to make new ones, and we’re still trying to get rid of all the solutions-”

“Oh, these are ancient!” Russ groaned, rubbing his hands down his face like it was the worst thing he’d heard all day. “Okay, okay, good news! You have us here now! We will amend this!”

“You really don’t gotta-”

“If we don’t it will be an affront to traps everywhere!” He looked through the toolbox they’d brought along. “We’ll need some more tools, but… Hey, Papyrus?”

“What?” Papyrus and Red-Papyrus said simultaneously. They squinted at each other.

“That one, sorry,” Russ clarified, pointing to Red-Papyrus. “You know what we’re looking for, right? Do you think you can dig around and find anything like that?”

“...Yes,” Red-Papyrus said somewhat reluctantly, backing off from where he was inspecting a rusty saw blade. “Blueprint paper, flamethrowers, scrap?”

“Right on the money!” He snapped his fingers into a gun shape. “Also some power tools, bigger wrenches, maybe some gasoline… And, whatever else you come across, I suppose!”

“I can grab that stuff if you want,” Papyrus offered, fairly certain he’d know where to find it better than someone who’d allegedly only been in this universe for a day.

“Nonsense! I need to show you how to bring these hunks of junk to their full potential!” Russ said, grinning as he raised a hammer that was far too big for the toolbox he’d pulled it from. “We’ll start with some percussive maintenance!”

mourning the loss of the horizontal line in the text editor-------------------

Something's Wrong With This Guy (WORKING TITLE LOL)

(Context: Edge's perspective, takes place before meeting Stretch)

“Russ?” He called out. “God dammit, Russ, where did you go?”

He scanned the area for even a hint of where Russ had run off to, but he could hardly see a thing. Maybe he was being smart for once, hiding in a bush somewhere. He wasn’t in any state to fight. He’d sooner topple over before he could get a word out.

There was no answer. Of course there wasn’t. If he was hiding, answering would give him away.

Unfortunately, that was just as likely as if he were already dead.

He finally caught another glimpse of the attacker, sending another round of attacks their way with a renewed fury. No matter what had happened, he’d make sure he dealt with it appropriately.

Right as his first round ended, he rushed in close, forgoing his magic just to pin them against the ground. He held them there by the neck, rearing back his fist.

Then, finally, he saw Russ, grinning up at him and cutting through the thick fog of adrenaline like a knife.

He shoved himself off, his anger dissipating just as quickly as it had arrived.

“Aww, but it was just getting fun!” Russ complained, pulling himself out of the snow and brushing himself off. “I had a suspicion you’ve been holding out on me, but…”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Papyrus shouted. “I could have killed you!”

“Isn’t that what you want?” He pointed out. Papyrus couldn’t find a response. “Besides, I’m fine! That was fun! Come on, let’s keep going, we can-”

“No.”

“But-”

“You are incredibly lucky that both of us are not dead,” Papyrus hissed, gesturing to the open area around them. “I don’t give a damn how much of a death wish you have, but if you want me to have a part in it, I will do so of my own accord. Otherwise, leave me out of it.”

“So… You don’t want to kill me?” Russ asked. Papyrus sputtered, quickly gaining the urge to prove him wrong as a smile grew on his face. “Oh, Papyrus, you’ve grown so much! I’m so proud of you!”

With a swift smack to the back of his skull, Papyrus finally began to drag Russ to the house.

---------------------------

Reboot Part 1: Swapfell (working title)

(Context: Fluff's perspective, his very own introduction fic :'> so proud)

“What the fuck was that,” he growled, not caring to greet the bastard on the other end.

“I asked Alphys to install a plugin on your phone that’d get you to answer it for once,” Sans answered. He could hear the smile on his face. “It only activates after five missed calls, so really you’ve only got yourself to blame for this one.”

“Fuck you.”

“Hey, saves me the trouble of having to run back home to make sure you’re not dead.”

“And what’s so important that you had to wake me up in the most assholeish way possible?”

“I needed to tell you- wait, I woke you up? Papyrus, have you been sleeping all day? It’s seven in the-!”

He hung up.

It took about a minute for the phone to ring again. He snickered, imagining his brother coming down from his tirade just to realize he’d been lecturing a ghost the entire time.

He stared at the screen.

Five calls, huh?

He answered on the fifth, on the very last ring.

“Point taken,” Sans said, resigned. He was probably pinching the bridge of his nose in that way he always did when Papyrus pissed him off. “Look, I just wanted to tell you I’m gonna be working late again, okay? Some stuff came up.”

“Wow, that’s a huge diversion from what you do every single day. Super urgent news for me to know, couldn’t possibly have just texted me that.”

“You regularly make me wonder if you’re even receiving my texts because you never answer them. The only way I even know your phone works is when I ask if you want takeout.”

“Maybe you should learn something from that.”

“I’m not going to bribe you into answering my texts, Papyrus.”

“Don’t be surprised when I don’t answer ‘em then.”

“Papyrus-” Sans started, but cut himself short. Then, he sighed. “...Look, kid, I don’t want to argue with you. I just wanna be able to know you’re alright. I’m sorry it’s annoying, but I can’t– ...I just need to know, okay?”

Papyrus didn’t respond. He clenched his jaw at his brother’s change in tone.

“If you’ve been sleeping all day, then you probably haven’t eaten,” Sans continued. “I’m pretty sure there’s still some leftover stir-fry in the fridge. You should have some. It might be a bit spicy for you, but it’s good food.”

He hummed plainly.

“...Well, that’s all I wanted to say. I gotta get back to work now, but I’ll see you when I see you, yeah?”

His jaw clenched just a bit tighter.

“Love you, kid.”

He hung up again, for real this time.

#oh holy shit what do i tag this #i might just stick with #fic update #for now #not gonna give fandom tags or anything we dont need all that #but YEAH this is what i meant when i said updates would be wayyyyy less linear lmao #every one of these takes place at a different point in the timeline #they're almost all before the blog's events tho #fluff's will be the first to actually get into the “present” time #meaning im officially cutting out the babybone arc SORRY #half of it wasn't canon anyway 😔#also damn people not having nicknames is so much easier to get away with in ask blog format this is gonna get MESSYYYYY #as of now the one with only russ & edge is closest to being done btw !!!!#ahem ok no more stalling posting now here yuo goooooo

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very-bad-poetry-captain · 3 months

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WIP Wednesday! (though it's Thursday... anyway)

Tagged by @appleofmyonlyeye and @ncc1701ohno thank you both💕

I'm not counting my ongoing wip Headspace in this and also I can't reveal the plot for the McSpirk Big Bang fic I'll write, but these are the star trek fics I've started typing!!

Untitled - "love is blind TV show" AU mcspirk

McCoy arrives at a nice resort on an alien planet for some much needed rest after his messy divorce, and accidentally ends up double booked with the filming of the interplanetary version of dating show "Love is blind". The contestants are all split in two by a mysterious alien and Jim, who produces the show, is more than happy to convince McCoy to join the show. There, he meets Spock while talking in the pods... spones with endgame mcspirk!

Clearing his throat, Jim shifts a bit in his seat. They’re in matching seats, something like a mix of a beanbag and an armchair. Threatening to swallow you whole. “Well, the participants aren’t split up in any traditional way, like gender or sexual orientation or anything like that. Instead we’ve got a couple of Minirians dividing everyone.” He waits for the rest of the explanation, but Jim looks finished. “And these Minirians… How are they dividing people?” Surprise colors Jim’s expression. It makes him look younger. “Interested?” He grins, leaning forwards, elbows resting on his knees. “They refuse to explain it. One half is kanschtaar and the other half is tsiirm. I’ve been trying to figure it out but I gave up, so… It’s a blind date show, you know? Like you get to talk to the other half of participants but not see them or describe appearances. So I’m assuming the Minirians can tell somehow that each half won’t be attracted to their own group.” Maybe it’s the stress of a long space flight, or the weirdness of the whole situation, but McCoy is intrigued. A dating show across species? Then he remembers. His divorce was only months ago. He’s possibly hurtling down the path of alcoholism, is already a workaholic, can’t stop twisting and turning his dad’s death in his mind and… He feels, honestly, like a failure of a person. “I don’t think I’m date material,” he mutters, sinking lower into the baggy chair. “Whatever they base it on, it can’t be that at least.” Jim rolls his eyes. “It’s a TV show,” he says. “I mean, not to dismiss anyone’s hopes of finding true love, but… You’re good-looking enough for TV if you’re worried about that.”

2. Untitled - aos x tos crossover mckirk

This is inspired by gunstreet's tos Kirk x aos McCoy (endgame tos spirk) fic called Looking for an interruption which I am only slightly obsessed with and I needed to write an aos Jim x tos McCoy version... with endgame aos mckirk

Jim returns to the mess hall to find Leonard still on his own, though he’s smiling and humming to himself. There are several people watching him warily, and Jim can’t blame them. It’s not that Bones is never happy – it’s just rare to see him looking so pleased. “How’s your coffee?” Jim asks as he sits down opposite him. “Not too bad,” he smiles, taking a small sip. “Good to know my taste buds are the same in this universe, at least.” Blinking in confusion, it takes Jim a moment to realize he’d just punched in Bones’ usual order without even asking. Leonard’s smile takes on a teasing note, and Jim’s cheeks redden at the sight. “Well,” he mumbles, coughing a little. “I should have asked.” “Old habits die hard, as they say,” Leonard waves him off with. He eyes Jim like he wants to say more, but ultimately decides against it. The teasing smile remains, though, visible around the edges of the mug. Jim’s heart beats a little too hard in his chest, and he can’t figure out why. Is he nervous? It’s just Bones. Sure, a slightly older, smiley version of him, but still. He usually has to keep careful count of Bones’ smiles, a rare treasure to be memorized. He’s irrationally jealous of his counterpart for having such easy access to them.

3. mcspirk month

So far I have four oneshots started for mcspirk month but they're all untitled so... here are two (slightly nsfw) snippets (the other two are a bit too short yet to add)

Spock and McCoy get trapped together in a shuttle for several days (they are both dating Jim)

A small voice in the back of his head reminds him that he more than tolerates Spock, but that’s on a good day. He’s having a bad day, currently, and so is Spock. Though he’d never admit it, of course. It’s probably logical to stay calm and wait for rescue, and keep your mood bright while you’re at it. If it weren’t for the clipped tone and occasional dark look, and the way he talks back rather than tell McCoy to relax, he’d believe Spock was unaffected. “We should have made Jim go down with us,” he sighs, rubbing at his cheek with a palm. “He’d make the time pass faster, if nothing else.” “It would have been against protocol to send three of the ship’s most senior officers to a planet prone to unpredictable weather, when only two were needed.” “I’m bored, Spock. To hell with protocol!” Spock turns, then, to face him properly. The shuttle doesn’t have beds installed, only emergency sleeping bags, and so they spend most of their time in the pilot and co-pilot’s seats for comfort. The view outside the windscreen is blocked by heavy rain pelting against it, the sound of it an ominous backdrop to the muted lighting from the emergency light strips just barely allowing them to see each other. In profile, Spock had appeared stoic. Now, his face bathed in shadows, he looks more thoughtful, considering. “May I assume, then, that had Jim been present, you would have spent some time engaged in sexual intercourse?” “You bet your pointed ears we would have,” McCoy grumbles back.

Jim, Spock and McCoy have to dress up according to alien culture for diplomacy reasons...

Spock, of course, takes great care with him, easily slipping the gloves on. When he lifts his gaze to Kirk, there’s something heated in them. Oh. Maybe it’s highly intimate for a half-Vulcan, too. He licks his lips, considering him. “You know, I think Bones could use some help with his, too.” “What? I know how to put on a pair of gloves, Jim.” “I believe Jim knows that, Doctor. I also believe that he wishes to see us both engage in an intimate act under Voresebian culture.” Kirk can’t help but chuckle a bit at being caught out. “Alright, you’ve seen through me. I think we can spare a moment for some fun, can’t we?”

#idk who to tag in this :o feel free to simply do it if you want to!!

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talkinfanfic · 1 year

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Hi Storyshark! I'm a big Oasis fan and I think you're such a great writer! Is there any chance you would write more Gallaghercest "origin stories"? I always love to read about how it all started and like stories that are set in the early days of the band and before Liam even joined.

Did you ever entertain the idea about writing something that touches on the topic of why Liam's relationship to big brother Paul is so different to big brother Noel? I think it's quite interesting to think about what could have happened in their childhood and youth that made Liam crave Noel's attention and approval more than Paul's and made Noel more of a father figure to him. And I think anyone who meets Liam would be attracted by his beauty and charisma, so I think it's also interesting to think about how Paul reacts in a different way to it than Noel. And the topic of Noel feeling guilty of what he's doing to and how he's feeling about his baby brother is also always so interesting.

Thanks for reading and have a good day!

Thank you so much for reading and submitting an ask, gosh how flattering! For anyone interested in my writing, you probably already know I've got a blog over here (@storyshark2005) To answer your question-- Yeeeesss actually! I've got a few ideas and WIPs going right now in the "Been and Gone" universe. It's just a matter of time and me focusing long enough to get the next one out!

Paul in particular is the story I'm probably most focused on. I was just working on it last night! I'll stick a teaser below :) But here's kind of a rough checklist of what I'll be trying to accomplish...

Gene POV - done! Summary: “The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children.” Falling down (2005 - 2019).

"A Week in Mustique" - multi POV, some shorter glimpses from multiple characters over the course of a family holiday in Mustique!

Paul POV - Paul trying to be his own man. Some possible romance with Katie. His complicated relationship with his brothers. Feeling outside.

Sara POV. - Set during and after Story IV. Honestly I had a whole thing for this, but story 4 turned out a bit different, so I'll have to mull this one over... but it'll prob flash back to Sara's upbringing, and also go into some of broke down in their marriage, which isn't JUST the Liam factor. (*cough* freaky fridays *cough)

Matt Morgan POV - A night out, late in 2022. Maybe a party to celebrate one of Noel's singles releasing. He finds out about Liam/Noel. Debbie brings him into the circle. We see Debbie stressing being the 'secret keeper'.

Debbie POV - Debbie finding the Liam/Noel thing more intense than maybe she’d thought, navigating where she fits in. The REAL start of the Noel/Debbie bit of the triangle!

Anyway here's a bit from "Paul" below the cut:

Saturday, 19 August 1978. Burnage, Manchester

“Eeyare,” Noel pokes his head in the door. He’s all sweaty, fringe stuck to his forehead. “What’s the score, our kid?”

“One-nil to Derby. Charlie George, overhead kick.”

Noel’s nose wrinkles. “Gooner cunt. Can I borrow your guitar?” He nods to the corner behind Paul’s bed, where the cheap little Yamaha acoustic lay dusty and neglected.

“No.”

“Well you’re not fuckin’ playin’ it.”

“Yeah, and neither are you.” Paul adjusts the dial, swiveling from the commentary on Picadilly Sport, over to the BBC2.

“Whatever. I’ll just play it tonight while you’re out helping the old fella.”

The dial skitters to a staticky stop. Fuck, but he’d forgotten.

“It’s your turn,” Noel says flatly. “He’s got 32 Club tonight.”

He’s right, is the thing. Noel hadn’t come home last night till almost 3am. It’s Paul’s turn to haul the boxes of vinyl into the club, and then nurse a coke in the corner for six hours while Tommy DJ spins his tunes and then pisses away the week’s earnings on cards.

A sudden thunder of trainers pounds up the stairs, and Liam comes skidding into frame, crashing up against Noel’s hip. He’s bright-eyed and pink-cheeked, and just as sweaty as Noel, fringe split in half by a violent cowlick. He’s wearing a faded old ringer tee with Ernie from Sesame Street on the front that used to belong to Noel (and possibly Paul before him).

“I want a Capri-Sonne,” he curls a fist in Noel’s shirt and tugs. He’s got grass stains on his knees from chasing Noel and his mates around the park.

Liam’s a horrible little brother. Five-going-on-six, he’s lightning in a bottle, caught only just barely-- crackling and popping with a heaving, restless energy. He’s also a charming little fucker when he needs to be, which he never does around Noel or Paul. The church ladies and the aunties think he’s an angel.

Noel ignores the tugging and whining. Paul can see a fading bruise above his elbow where their Dad had grabbed him last week, screaming about some perceived slight or uppity attitude Noel had apparently been giving off.

“Hewitt nicked the Pistols record from Sifter’s. Youngie and Vince are comin’ over, we’re all goin’ round his in a bit for a listen.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Noel shrugs.

Liam butts his face into Noel’s stomach. Noel allows it, resting a hand on top of his bowl cut. Noel casts his gaze somewhere out the window, out to the clouds, barely invested in the conversation, or the little brother buzzing under his hands.

Liam gives another headbutt, drawing a scowl and Noel’s attention back.

“Fucking stop it--”

“I WANT my FUCKING DRINK!”

Paul looks down at his scorecard. “Maybe after the match.”

Noel looks up, distracted with Liam wrangled into a one-armed headlock. Liam has his arms wrapped around Noel’s waist like an obnoxious little squid.

“What?”

“I said, maybe I’ll come round after the match.”

Paul’s not really planning to show up. He could go round Hewitt’s any day to listen to the album. And it’d be better without Noel there, anyway, talking all the way through. (Mister fucking McCharmley, was Noel. Hewitt had been Paul’s mate, originally.)

Anyway. Noel’s only asking ‘cos he knows Mam’ll ask him where he’s off to, and why Paul’s not going with.

“Whatever.” Noel shrugs and turns out of the room, disentangling himself from Liam’s sticky grasp. “Liam, getoff--!”

“I’m coming, too!”

“No you’re fucking not.”

“Noely!” Liam curls his fingers into the back of Noel’s shirt and tugs again, whining for his Capri-Sonne.

“Get it yourself!”

“Mam put ‘em on top of the fridge, I can’t reach--!”

Noel groans but diverts down the stairs, and Liam gives out a joyous whoop of triumph.

Paul sighs, turning back to the radio. Halftime, still one-nil. He skips back to Radio 2. Which is when he hears it.

Years and years and years later, Paul will meet this photographer friend who’s into fucking birds, of all things. Like...photographing them, and going on trips to find rare ones. This friend, she tells him about her ‘spark bird’. Apparently, a spark bird is the first bird that lights the match in you, that makes you want to get up at the crack of fucking dawn and go creeping through a marsh for a glimpse of some rare South American ruffle-headed whats-a-ma-doo.

Paul doesn’t give a fuck about birds. But he knows what she means when she talks about a spark bird. Because Paul’s always liked music, same as he likes talking to pretty girls, and the smell of brand new trainers, and Man City winning a string of matches.

But something about what he hears crashing through the speakers that Saturday afternoon; that strange, hitching synthesizer bit in the intro; the fast-train staccato of Keith Moon up on the hi-hat, nervous like a racing heart; Entwhistle dancing patiently underneath, holding the rhythm down; Townshend’s carelessly cool, yet exacting and luxuriant guitar work; and above it all, Roger Daltrey’s relentless, fearless growl demanding an answer to the most important question that Paul had never heard asked before, by anyone, including himself:

Who are you?

Who?

Paul listened that day, and then bought and nearly wore out the single over the next few months, totally entranced and unable to answer. Anything he could have mustered seemed superficial, insubstantial: ‘Paul Anthony Gallagher, son of Peggy and Tommy, brother to Noel and Liam.’

And what else, the question seemed to beg, what else?! Give me something real-- who the fuck are you??

Make something of yourself, it seemed to say. Find an answer.

Years and years and years later, despite the fire burning in his belly to do something, be someone...he still doesn’t have an answer.

‘The other brother,’ maybe.

Anyway. Fuck knows. Maybe he’s nobody. Most people are nobody. They’re born, they live and they have a few dreams, and then they die with most of those dreams unrealised.

That’s just life, mate. It’s not that tragic a story. ***

#fanfiction #oasis RPF #gallaghercest #gcest #world that's been and gone #paul gallagher

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