at how good the fic is

The Meeting of the Waters

pairing: lin-manuel miranda x reader

summary: lin buys a late 18th century piano during the writing process for hamilton, and when he gets it home, he’s surprised to find there’s a ghost attached to it. reader has been attached to her piano for hundreds of years, and is thrilled to talk about her good friend eliza hamilton with the genius who purchased her piano.

warnings: swearing, and i think that’s it idk do ghosts need to be tagged is that a thing

word count: 5,308

a/n: this is for the @hamwriters write-a-thon day one!!! AH okay i haven’t seen anyone write a ghost AU fic yet, so i don’t know how well received this will be BUT i really like it and i hope you guys do too (if u don’t pls be nice to me i’m fragile)

The lights of the George Washington Bridge glow in the distance, a stark contrast to the dark waters of the Hudson. Lin grunts as he pushes the piano up against the window of his studio apartment, leaning an arm on the top of the piano to peer out at the view.

“To be honest, the piano looked better against the wall,” you pipe up from your perch on the arm of the worn out leather sofa.

Lin spins around quickly, a startled look etched on his face. “Who’s in here?”

“Hi there,” you wave your hand, a small smirk on your face, before you stand. You smooth out your skirts and take a few steps toward him.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?” He takes a few quick steps backwards as you approach, his back colliding with the wall.

“Relax,” you hold up your hands in a show of benevolence. “I come with the piano.”

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Fanfic Comment Guide

Hi hello!

#clexaweek2017 is coming up and this will be one of my contributions for the week since I’m not much of a creative type. I’ve never written any fanfiction, so all of this is coming from a reader’s perspective. 

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  • Comments can be short (although longer the better)

Examples of bad comments

  • This sucks! :(
  • I know that you aren’t getting paid to write and I know that you posted this chapter less than 24 hours ago and I know that you’re a fan just like me….. but where’s the update???

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  • asldkfjalsdfj !!!!! :D <3 <3 <3 
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  • Characters and original characters
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  • World-building 
    • Is the author exploring something you are really interested in?
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    • Are you surprised by that twist?
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  • As I go through a chapter on my phone, I switch to my notes app and copy and paste all the lines I like and write down my thoughts before I forget what I want to say
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  • Fanfic writers are real human beings who have lives outside of writing and they go to school, have jobs, spend time with family & friends, etc. 
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Leaving kudos and subscribing is great and all, but comments are like little gems and they can be so valuable for writers (and for other readers too). 

I know how difficult it is to leave thoughtful comments or use your last bits of brain power to say something coherent before you go to bed (that’s usually when I read). But I think it’s super important to give back to all the talented and hardworking writers out there.

No one will know how you truly feel about something unless you speak up! 

When The Clock Strikes 12 [Lafayette/Reader]

Woo! First fic for @hamwriters write-a-thon down! This idea came to me after searching for a ton of different AUs to work with. Now to finish up my GWash/Trans!Reader fic, then work on my femslash fic for the write-a-thon! Please enjoy!

Thank you to my wonderful amazing tumblr budbuds that inspired me to do a good job and inspire me in general! @musicalmiranda @love-doesnt-discriminate @hamilficsfordays @gunsandfics @boss-headcanons @diggs4life @imagineham @imdedicatingeverydaytoyou @secretschuylersister and @tempfixeliza <3 You’re all so kind and amazing and even if I don’t interact with you or chat with you, what you do and how funny/cute/relatable/sweet you all are makes me smile and makes me realize that the Hamilton (more specifically writing) community is such an incredible place to be!

Warnings: Alcohol, some swearing at the end, Lafayette’s full name (like w o a h), and New Years in case anyone has bad experiences with New Years!

Word count: 1514

Grabbing your third glass of cold, cheap champagne for the night, you laugh at a joke that Hercules had just told that wasn’t even funny. He seemed so enthusiastic about it that you couldn’t help it, but even sober, you couldn’t comprehend the punchline or how it was supposed to work out to be as funny as everyone made it sound like it was. You take a sip and walk off, trying to find the person who had dragged you here in the first place, Lafayette. 

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anonymous asked:

How do you have it so easy? There's hardly 40 fics and 4 series in your masterlist. And almost all of them have over 100 notes each if not more. You have a boyfriend, your always so patronising and you hang out with all the big blogs. I've written more and better than you but I still don't have as many followers or friends on here. Why are you so lucky?

Well Anon, I AM pretty lucky as far as my followers and friends go. It is beyond me, why they like me. I think it has more to do with them being awesome people, than it has to do with me. 

That being said, I’d appreciate if you didn’t drag my personal life into this. If you even for a second think that I’ve had a cake walk in this life, you couldn’t have been more wrong. Do not pretend to know me, because you don’t. There is a reason I don’t reveal much about my personal or romantic life here, and I am going to keep it that way. I don’t even know what else to say here.

I'm the Only One

(your rec was good, they always are, but I couldn’t find exactly what I was looking for, so I wrote it. Enjoy Aeren!)

“Do you even understand how perfect you are in every way?” Dean asked as he gently tugged the socks off Sam’s long feet. He kissed the arch of Sam’s right foot, followed by his left as Sam giggled and squirmed. Dean slipped soft fingertips up inside the cuff of Sam’s jeans and stroked the inside of his ankle. “So smart, so funny, so beautiful.” Dean crooned to the inside of Sam’s slender ankles as his long arms reached up and tugged at the waist of the jeans to pull them down Sam’s long legs. Sam laughed breathlessly as he lifted his hips off the bed to make it easier for Dean to get his clothes off. “You’ve already got me, you don’t need to seduce me anymore.” He added and Dean stopped, a frown on his pretty face as he looked up and caught Sam’s eye. “You’re wrong, so wrong. How can someone so perfect be so wrong? I always need to seduce you. You don’t know, do you?” Dean asked, pausing to dip his head down and press kisses into the muscular, hairy calves now exposed to him. “You don’t know how amazing you are Sammy. How much I worship you. So I have to tell you. I have to show you.” He looked back up just in time to see Sam avert his eyes and for the apples of his cheeks to turn the slightest pink. “You’ll know by the time I’m done.” Dean promised and bent his head back to his task, worshipping those mile-long legs. The pale skin and dark hair looked so amazing to him, and he tickled the pit behind Sam’s knobbly, colt knees to see him kick and giggle. “These long legs. They make you stand out in in crowd. They look so good in jeans, or your fed suit or in nothing at all, but they really look best in the air.” Dean smirked and kissed above the knee as he dug his fingers into the tough muscle of Sam’s thighs. Sam groaned and went limp, melting into the bed and Dean pulled himself closer and massaged those thick thighs.“So strong and they make you go so fast. I only run so fast because I have to keep up with you. BUt the view from behind….” Dean trailed off as he slipped his fingers up the backside of Sam’s boxers and rubbed his rough fingertips over the soft skin at the crease of butt and thigh. “Dean, I promise, that’s enough.” The words were breathless and anyone with eyes could see the monsted cock tenting the front of Sam’s boxers, but Dean would not be deterred. He shifted his body to one side of Sam’s and lay down next to him on the bed, skipping over the boxers and jumping right up to Sam’s face. Dean cupped SAm’s face between his hands. “Do you know how precious your face is to me. So expressive, little brother. So gorgeous. YOu could stop traffic. You could get me going with the lift of an eyebrow or the flash of a dimple. Your pretty eyes and your nose and perfect perfect pink lips.” He paused to press a kiss to those perfect lips. “And it’ll be enough when you’re beyond words. When you can’t speak. That’s when it’s enough.” He added in a whisper like a secret. “Your brain , though, baby boy. Your brilliant, brilliant mind. You’ve come up with so many solutions to problems. You’ve saved us over and over and over again. You’re brilliant and it makes you shine.” Dean tilted Sam’s head so that he could press a kiss into the hair at the top of SAm’s head. “This long neck. It’s drives me crazy Sammy. The way it shines with sweat. The way it turns red when you exert yourself. I want to have my mouth on it all the time.” He licked up the side of Sam’s neck, ending at the corner of Sam’s perfect, stubbled jaw. “Your shoulders, man, you could be a model. So big, so strong. Everyone who sees you thinks about it. These big arms and shoulders lifting them up and holding them in the air or…my personal favorite… up against a wall. Love it when you get all Alpha on me, little brother. My BIG little brother.” Dean trailed a line of kisses from elbow, up Sam’s bicep, across his collarbone and then down the other bicep to his elbow. “And you hands. They might be my favorite part of you. Show the whole world what they’re missing out on. Those long fingers; they can be so delicate and yet they’re so strong. And they’re so good and fingering me open. You find all the right spots every time.” Dean sucked Sam’s middle finger into his mouth and pulled it back out, repeating the action with his index finger and back again until both were shining with saliva. Sam was panting, his stomach heaving with each breath and his neck shining with sweat. “Please Dee. I get it, I get it.” He whined as Dean nipped the end of his fingertips. “Nah, you can still talk Sammy. And I’m just getting to the best part: your chest. Fuck, look at this chiseled from marble chest. Jesus, you could fit right in at a museum with all the classics. But, if you were on display I couldn’t do this.” Dean opened his mouth wide and sunk his teeth into the muscle of Sam’s pec above his nipple, causing Sam to arch his back and breathe out a harsh, turned-on breath. Dean sucked the skin into his mouth and let his teeth dig into the muscle until he almost broke the skin, then he released it and pulled back, admiring his mark on the perfect skin. “Love marking you as mine. Love having my teeth marks and finger bruises in your perfect skin.” Dean breathed over the giant, quickly purpling bruise, then snaked his tongue out over the peaked, tan nipple below it causing a squeak and a breathed “fuck” from Sam. “Still talking, I’m not doing a good enough job.” He repeated the bite on the other side then pinched both SAm’s nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, making sure they were as peaked as could be and nice and red with attention. He skimmed down Sam’s stomach. “Baby. Baby. this fucking stomach. It makes me stupid. Look at these hipbones, perfect handholds. Look at these angled obliques pointing me right in the direction I want to go. And Jesus. This line of hair leading down from your belly button right into your boxers.” Dean turned his head to the side and licked the hair in question, groaning like it tasted like a gourmet meal. “You make me crazy baby. I think you’re ready.” he curled his fingers into the waist of Sam’s boxers and wiggled them down over his giant cock, pulled them down his mile-long legs and tossed them off the end of the bed. “It people only knew” he whispered reverently as his lips closed, soft and wet, around the purpled head of Sam’s uncut cock. He wrapped a hand around the big shaft and pulled the foreskin back even more, the wet sound it made making both of them throb. He lipped at the head, loving the smell and the taste and the way that Sam whined and twisted and whimpered under him. No matter how many times he’d tried over the years, Sam’s massive cock is something that Dean can only take one way; it makes him choke and gag even only half-way in and that was not the kind of worship Sam needed. Dean shoved himself off the bed, tossing a bottle of his favorite lube towards Sam on the bed. “Can you help me baby?” He asked, tearing his clothes off and tossing them all over the room. He watched, his whole body thrumming with arousal, as Sam squirted a generous amount of lube into his big palm and wrapped it around his cock, coating it with lube. Dean rushed to pull off the rest of his clothes and kneed back up onto the bed, grabbing the lube for himself and giving himself the bare minimum of prep and stretch. “I like the burn of your big cock baby. I like to feel it push me open. I like to feel you inside me, oh fuck.” Dean threw a leg over Sam’s prone body and straddled his hips, grabbing the lubed up cock and pressed the head to his hole. He rocked backwards, his own dick bouncing in front of him, as he took Sam to the root with one long groan. “That’s it” Dean breathed out as he wiggled his hips to get settled. “Love you baby boy. Now, use those hips and those core muscles that I worship so much and make me lose my mind.” He grinned down at Sam as his hands came up to grip Dean’s hips hard enough to bruise and his own hips began to roll and buck beneath Dean. With all that seduction and build up, it wasn’t long before both were covered in sweat and nearing orgasm. Dean began to swivel his hips opposite to Sam’s thrusts making Sam’s thrusts go impossibly faster as the ned beneath them shook and squeaked loudly. “C’mon baby, gimme. Fill me up” Dean grunted as he began to strip his cock, aiming for the two matched bite marks across Sam’s pecs. Sam’s hips stuttered and his muscles locked as his face twisted with pleasure and Dean could feel his thick cock pulse and empty inside him. Dean lifted his ass off Sam’s softening cock and rolled off to the side to breathe and begin to regain his head. “Not that I’m complaining, but…” Sam trailed off, his voice weak, “you really don’t have to do that everytime someone makes me feel low.” Dean rolled onto his side, squishing Sam’s arm beneath his sticky side in the process. “Yes, I do, Sammy.”

Originally posted by nerd-watching

Coming Out (x3) || Core Four

Prompt from anon: hey there! could you do a lil fic (however long you want) or a oneshot or somehthing (im not sure ahout fanfic terminologies im so sorry) where someone from the core four comes out which spurs jughead to come out as ace and so does the reader? (ace reader just in case that didnt make sense im sorry) thanks in advance, and if this doesn’t fit the guidelines, im sorry, also have a good day!! x :D

A/N: I’ve never written a coming out fic before, so I hope this is okay. I hope I did this prompt justice. If anything’s offensive in it, PLEASE tell me so I can fix it/take it down. Again, I’ve never written anything like this before so I don’t know if I got the internal thoughts correct. I’d like to thank @siriusly-lupine for basically giving me all the ideas for this fic. I had no idea how to write this prompt and she came in and saved the day. Thank you, Diana. 

Gif by @joelshammonds


“Okay,” Veronica began, mouth filled with fries. “I’m just gonna say it. I’m bisexual.”

You choked on your drink.

What? She just told everyone? Just like that? You could barely form the words “I’m asexual” in your head, let alone speak them.

Betty rose her eyebrows at Veronica’s words.

“Really?” she asked.

Veronica nodded as she grabbed her milkshake, taking a sip. Betty thought about this for a second, smiling bashfully as she remembered the kiss the two of them shared. Maybe it actually meant something.

“Wow, Ronnie, that’s great.” Archie said, smiling, not really sure what to say. He was Archie after all.

Jughead smirked a little and looked down, beginning to fidget slightly. He cleared his throat.

“Well, since it looks like it’s show-and-tell today, I guess I’ll come out as well. I’m asexual.” he said.

This time Archie was the one who choked on his drink. Betty’s eyes widened and Veronica grinned. Your breath caught in your throat. Jughead was asexual?

“Way to go, Juggie!” Veronica cheered.

Jughead smiled shyly at her words.

“Thanks.” he mumbled.

You, Archie, and Betty offered him similar words.

Jughead was asexual. You weren’t alone. You weren’t alone. You weren’t alone!

“Anyone else wanna come out?” Archie joked, breaking you out of your thoughts and everyone laughed.

Everyone except you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you tried to steady your trembling hands. Betty noticed you slightly shaking and frowned.

“Y/N, are you okay?” she asked.

Everyone stopped laughing at Betty’s tone and looked over at you. Jughead frowned.

“Y/N? What is it?” he asked worriedly.

You swallowed again as everyone’s eyes bore holes into you.

“I-I have something to say as well.” you said.

Your four friends were quiet as you tried to speak the words that were on the tip of your tongue.

“I-I’m asexual too,” you finally said. “L-Like Jughead.”

You were silent as you waited for the group’s response. What if they just thought you were copying Jughead? What if they thought you were lying? What if—

“You go, girl.” Veronica said.

You looked up at the black-haired girl who was smiling widely at you.

“Thank you, Veronica.” you said quietly, a smile making its way onto your face.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N!” Betty said, making you smile wider.

“Ditto.” Archie said.

“Thanks, guys.” you said softly.

Jughead was looking at you with a gobsmacked expression on his face.

“H-How did I not know?!” he exclaimed, letting out a breathless laugh, the corners of his mouth beginning to turn up.

This time everyone laughed, including you. You shrugged as you took another sip of your milkshake.

“Didn’t know with you either. Guess this makes us even.” you said, bumping your shoulder to his.

Jughead smirked and bumped you back.

Archie smirked as he looked around the table.

“So… Anyone else?”


A/N: I hope this wasn’t too short! Please let me know what you thought! Thank you!


@gottalovetheapocalypse @lydixstiles @jughead-from-riverdale @pinkhappypanda @iamthegoatmaster @subsi4123 @reginaphlanageadams @river-vixns @deanskitten @latenightbooknerd @lostinpercyseyes @captainelsaeverdeen @itsjaynebird @allineedisconnor @juggie-jones-iii @superoriginalteenwolf @sastielstan

A book

When James wakes up the first thing he sees is the bright sunshine – that and Thomas’ face hovering just inside his view.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” There is laughter rippling through Thomas’ voice – he has always found it terribly amusing that James tends to sleep a lot whenever he is back from his journeys. James yawns.

“How late is it?” he mumbles, sleep still clouding his voice.

“Not as late as you might think,” Thomas grins. “But definitely too late for you to do anything productive this morning.”

“You’re only saying that because you want to keep me tied to the bed,” James protests. Despite his words, however, he doesn’t move, just enjoys the feeling of clean linen on his skin and Thomas’ presence so close, with their legs still touching.

“Maybe I am.” A twinkle of mischief lights up in Thomas’ eyes now. He turns around and grabs something from the table next to him before dropping it on James’ stomach. “But for now, this should be enough to keep you here.”

“Another book?” James laughs, but his movements are careful and gentle as he fingers the little book bound in red leather that Thomas has given him. It’s beautiful; everything that comes from Thomas’ hands is, to him.

“Of course. What did you expect? Actual affection?” Thomas evades James’ elbow with a grin and bends down to plant a kiss on his forehead. “I’m sure you’re going to love this one.”

“Herodotus’ Histories?”

“A friend of mine translated it into English for me a few years ago and I had it bound. You could say it’s the rarest item I own.”

“And you are giving it to me?” James can feel awe entering this voice.

“Of course. Who else would I rather like to have my most precious possession?” Thomas kisses him again and this time his lips linger. James smiles into the kiss and for a while, the Histories lies forgotten on the sheets.  


Flint finds the book when he looks through the ruins of Miranda’s house. The Meditations he has kept safe somewhere else, the words on its first page far too valuable for him to ever let it out of his sight for long, especially now that Miranda and, with her, the last safe haven he had on Nassau are gone.

Most of the place has been ransacked and demolished, but a little chest with books has survived and Flint’s fingers travel over the worn red leather that encase the pages of the Histories. If he closes his eyes he thinks he can still smell Thomas when he brings it up to his face – that scent, once so common and surrounding him from every angle, has now become something so rare that he treasures every moment he finds it. Maybe it isn’t even Thomas’ scent at all, but a phantom that his mind cooked up.

Maybe he has already forgotten the real one.

Flint shudders when his brain shouts his greatest fears so casually. He wants to forget but also wants to remember - wants to forget the bad and remember the good, but they are so hopelessly intertwined that sometimes he wonders if it weren’t better if he could wipe his memory completely.

Pressing the little book to his chest and then carefully tucking it into his pockets he decides, however, that sometimes the pain from those memories can be a good thing – after all, it tells him that he is still alive.


He cannot remember when the last time was that he’s had a time so peaceful and silent to himself.  Of course, his current lodgings are far from comfortable – hostage or prisoner, the cell he is in remains the same although they haven’t bound him – but it all pales besides the quiet that is finally his.

Some might have used this time to think, others to sleep, but he uses it to let his mind wander, back to other times and further beyond. He knows he can trust Silver to carry out their plan, so now, for the first time, everyone’s fate is in hands other than his own. The sudden freedom leaves a strange taste on his tongue. He is so tired.

Patting his pockets, he finds the Histories hidden away in one of them and the echo of a smile dashes across his lips. He has to remember how to smile - it has been so long. He can still cite some of those sentences in his sleep, but their meaning is not important. What is important is the memory of Thomas’ voice they carry, of his fingers travelling up and down his back as he reads his favourite passages from it to James, of the faint tickling of his hair on Flint’s skin and softness in his gaze as he looks at him.

For the first time in a long while Flint allows himself to be carried away by them. Silver’s voice echoes in his head, about a place that unruly family members were spirited away to, but he doesn’t hope. He has gone too far for hope. But there is peace inside him now, a peace soft and brittle but gentle too, and it soothes his soul until he loses himself in the book in his lap.

Alien Children

((fic by @pomrania, in the Blind Faith AU. More of this might or might not get written in the future. Anyone who recognizes the Nightside reference here receives the knowledge that I think they have good taste in books.))

She had seen the two before. They hung around looking for odd jobs they could do; always together, never apart. She thought they were male, but it was so hard to tell with aliens. The little skin they exposed – how fragile were these creatures? – was closer in colour to bone than anything healthy. They had entirely too many fingers, and their heads were smooth and hornless, like a baby’s.

Keep reading

alittlefellowinawideworld  asked:

Hey, I've been reading a ton of fics recently, but none of them include Dirk sharing his vision of playing the guitar with Todd and Amanda, or Todd actually spending time and teaching him how to play. It seems like such a waste, there's so much angsty/fluffly/romantic potential!!!

Okay, so I couldn’t possibly fill this without first directing you towards this amazing fic by hippocampers (featuring guitar lessons and cuteness) which I absolutely love! Go check it out!

Words: 413

Theoretically, Dirk should have been pretty good with musical instruments, with his long fingers and all. Fingers that Todd definitely hadn’t spent more than the normal, platonic amount of time thinking about. He sighed to himself; there wasn’t much point in pretending he wasn’t attracted to Dirk. That lie had lost all credibility when foggy images of the detective had seeped into Todd’s mind while he was showering. And then later while he was alone in bed. And - on one particularly alarming occasion - while he was trapped in a closet with Dirk during a case.

“Does it really matter which strings I hold down?” Dirk asked, and Todd shook increasingly less appropriate thoughts out of his mind to focus on the question. The really, really stupid question that made Todd want to roll his eyes so hard that they’d never return to their original position.

“Yeah, Dirk, it matters. If you hold down the wrong strings, you’ll make the wrong chord. You can’t just play a bunch of random notes and expect it to sound good,” Todd huffed, reaching over to readjust Dirk’s fingers on the strings. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that Dirk was deliberately letting his fingers slip into the wrong positions so that Todd would have to correct them. “There, try that.”

Dirk played the chord, and Todd nodded.  

“Yeah, that’s good, so that’s a G chord. If you can get C and D down too, there’s actually a bunch of songs you can play,” he explained, trying not to be distracted by Dirk’s smile. He’d never known anybody so happy to play a single chord before.

“You could teach me one of the songs you wrote,” Dirk suggested, then hesitated, as if gauging Todd’s reaction, “You know, for that band you hated. I bet you wrote some pretty good songs.”

Todd could feel his ears going pink and he resisted the urge to clamp his hands over then, instead just nodding again, the movement jerky this time. He should have known Dirk’s unrestrained enthusiasm would extend to this too.

“Maybe. If you get the main chords down, okay?” Todd conceded after a moment. He tried not to stare at Dirk’s hands as Dirk played another G chord.

F major, Todd decided. It was the hardest chord for beginners, and so Todd would kiss Dirk if he ever managed to learn it. Looking back at Dirk’s clumsy fingers, F major seemed a comfortingly long way away.

It’s probably obvious, but I know nothing about guitars! If you enjoyed this, you can check out my longer fic over on AO3, or send me a prompt here on tumblr. Thanks for reading :D

fukinweeeb  asked:

I just read Bite and man, its literally everything I've wanted in a crossover fic, like it's so good. Orahime isn't just a ditz, and Orochimaru and Urahara would be absolutely terrifying together. Also imagining Aizen being like "WHAT THE FUCK WHERE DID THIS COME FROM THIS WAS NOT PART OF THE PLAN"


I’m actually surprisingly happy with how Bite it turning out, so I’m very glad you like it! Orihime had so much potential in the manga, and she lived up to a fraction if it, but there was a lot more to be explored as well. And yeah, Urahara and Orochimaru in any combination promises to cause Aizen an untold number of headaches. ;)

adam-42-man  asked:

Buddy, your campaign fics are killing me, they're so good. Could I be really cheeky and ask for some too? I'd love to see how you handle Lyn and Bacta in a life and death situation. Your Tamlin is so god damn cute

Proximity alert. Proximity alert. Proximity alert.

He didn’t remember hitting his head, but he’d been thrown against the walls so many times. The creaking and groaning of metal was almost constant. Whoever it was currently ramming the Mynock, it had to be personal. They hadn’t fired a shot or tried hailing the Mynock before plowing into the side of their hull.

“I can’t get a good shot,” Bacta shouted to Lyn. 

She was at the controls of the Mynock, trying to steer them away from the other ship. If she didn’t get them away soon, the other ship would breach their hull.

“Have you tried hailing them?” Bacta shouted.


Proximity alert. Proximity alert. Proximity alert.

“Have you tried hailing them and telling them Tryst is not on the ship.”

“Why would this be about Tryst?” Lyn shouted.

“They haven’t demanded money or tried to board us. It’s probably about Tryst.”  

hcconn  asked:

I once read a fanfiction in which Draco accidentally kidnapped Hermione and was just sort of panicking and incompetent while holding her captive as he tried to figure out how to get out of the situation without getting in trouble. Both characters were pretty in character and the writing was pretty good. I can’t find it again, do you know what fic I’m talking about? 💖


Edit: Thanks niizumachi!

A Kingdom Beside the Sea by everythursday/sage - NC17, 9 chapters - During a dual gone wrong, Draco is hit with a curse that begins to erase his memories. Stuck with Granger in a lopsided house beside the sea, Draco’s life and mind begin to unravel as he struggles to hold on to who he is while losing who he had been.

anonymous asked:

Heyyy I've been looking everywhere but I cant find a fic; what's the name of that fic in which Lauren bullied Camila when they were in Middle School and then Camila moves to California and then she returns during High School, but Lauren doesn't remember who she is and all the group become friends?

“does anyone know the fic where camila wants to learn how to mastubate so lauren has her grind on her? thanks!!!”

“Van the author of Shooting the moon write my Life? Is so good.”

“OMG SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME there’s this fic where camila gets a call from the hospital saying her wife got into a car accident but she doesn’t have a wife and turns out she’s married to lauren??? lauren is rich af but her parents are super anti-gay please help me what fic is this”

“can’t wait for shooting the moon to update it was good author keep it up u r doing great”

“The latest chapter of Shooting The Moon had me squealing internally so many times i felt like my heart could explode! It’s wonderfully long and so well written and so worth the wait!! i’m so excited for the next one! Keep up the incredible work :D”

“shooting the moon is reaaaal good. Can’t wait for the part where camila and lauren fall inlove with each other and get hurt. I hope it gets really angsty and romantic at the same time”

anonymous asked:

i wish i could write fics like the rlly popular writers in the fandom tbh. like, how do you write a fic like twist and shout and it becomes law to read it??? everyone knows what the fic is????? people randomly praise it and liveblog while reading it????? it makes me and my fics look trash lmao

i feel you, nonnie. i don’t know how these things work and it’s a complete mystery to me too. and it seems to often be the case that not all incredibly good fics get a lot of attention and that makes me sad to no end. hang in there nonnie, and keep on writing!! <3

unicorn-blood-splatter  asked:

Fanfic questions--For ETA: 7(the chapters' titles),11 and 13! :)

  • 11: What do you like best about this fic?

The thing I like best about my fic is how I write Negan. I’ve gotten a lot of good feedback from folks about how they enjoy the way I write him, and I’m really proud about that. He’s a really entertaining guy to write, and doing dialogue between him and Rebecca is always a treat!

  • 13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

Oh my gosh! So many. For Chapter 7 specifically, I was thinking of Changes by Bowie, but so many others were floating around my head. I actually just made up a Spotify playlist to add to as I go, but for the moment I have:

anonymous asked:

Wondering if you can help: History of a Family is SUPER long! It looks really good, but the 'one-sided attraction' tag worries me. Is this end-game stucky, and how long in the fic (generally) before they get their act together?

spoilers under the cut

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

how do you plan out outlines of your fics (which are lovely btw <3) and like, how do you fathom out thoughts into words? i have all these fics planned out in my head, but i just can't form them into meaning full sentences.

oh god you guys i am very very intense about my outlines LOL so this is going to be a few good minutes of me just raving very deeply about it like the giant fucking writing nerd i am. 

regarding your outlining question: before i even go into outlining my stories, i try to visual the basic idea of how i want the main parts of the story to go because it helps me with making sure my outline can be coherent and in order (although most of the time, this does not end up happening entirely the way i want it to go because i get new ideas every .2 seconds). once i have a basic idea of a story that i’m satisfied with, that’s usually when i start outlining. i handwrite all of my outlines—i don’t know why i do this but i think i can handwrite faster than i can type? and i like the freedom that comes with handwriting something? i don’t know, i’m really odd sometimes, but i’ve been doing it for years and it works 100% of the time. but my outlines usually just end up being bulletpoints of those main ideas with a few minor details just to help me trigger my memory when i get around to actually writing the story. i usually weave those smaller details into the story as i’m writing it. 

i feel like i should point out, however, that outlining a story is definitely more of a writer’s personal preference and something that they chose to do or not. i know writers here who don’t outline at all yet they still tell a wonderful story, and i know writers who outline the fuck out of something to include all of those minor details and somehow don’t get sick of it when they get around the writing it which is also incredible as well. i personally just do bulletpoints because i know that’s how my own mind works best, so it all depends on what you’re comfortable with. 

fathoming thoughts into words: i’ve come to find that visualizing everything is the best way for me to translate my thoughts into words, since i’m naturally a very visual person. picturing the movement, thoughts, conversations of the characters help me alot with gestures and characteristics and helps me tremulously with details in both scenic stuff and how the characters react to different things of their surroundings. 

i apologize, i didn’t mean for this to turn into a giant fucking novel and i have probably exposed myself as the absolute writer trash that i am. i don’t even know if this will help you in any way, but i hope it does. good luck~ 

anonymous asked:

Can you recommend a fic where D's parents babies him in front of H because they want to annoy him?

In this they embarrass him:

A Malfoy All Her Own By: CherryWolf-chan - M, one-shot I left behind everything I’ve known my entire life for you. My father Hermione; how could you do this to me? I thought you loved me! What happened? Am I no longer good enough for you! Now that I’m no longer rich you’re too good for me! Well! Answer. Me. Hermione.

- Lisa

anonymous asked:

Do you think any of the newsies could have special needs (like ADHD)


Of the top of my head -

@masterandcaptain has written some really good ADHD headcanons about Broadway Davey, that I 100% believe at this point.

@jackkellystories headcanons Movie Jack as having ADHD, and I also 100% believe that.

I think 1992 Movie David is very likely somewhere on the autistic spectrum.

Dutchy is dyslexic. It’s canon. His only line is about how he isn’t sure how to spell strike, so all the dyslexia for Dutchy. I’ve written fic about it. Have a link:

1992 Movie Mush is… Something? Maybe dyslexic, or maybe inattentive type ADHD. I’m not sure, but we’re talking about the year 1899 here, so it stands to reason that nobody else would be either.

I write Snitch as dyspraxic. Mostly because I’m dead set on him being LD, but I also write him as having a lot of less than positive character traits, and I would have felt guilty throwing anything at him that I don’t also have. But also, he kind if stumbles over a barrel at one point in the film, so that’s my (admittedly flimsy) canon basis.