#kelseyo

[lespetitesmortsde]

3, 6, and 12 for the fic asks?

3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Oh boy. Okay. I think I gotta do it by fandom, I don't think I have an overall fave. Bechloe - Magnolias and Speyburn or What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? (which I will put on ao3 at... some point!) Imodna - I like too many of my own tbh. That's why I wrote them. When the Stars Go Out I feel has to be on here. Rizzles - Hate to See Your Heartbreak (again, which I will put on ao3 at some point). Supercorp - the next thing I post is my fave of this pairing so far. It's called Shatter Me (Again and Again) - so far, I think. The struggle of a working title. But looking at just stuff I've published? Then it has to be Slow It Down since it's the only thing for them I've posted so far. I have plans for that one.

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

Absolutely. Truly so many that I can't list them all here, but here are a few examples. mosaic broken hearts by darkdisrepair - imodna. i want something just like this from jazzfordshire - supercorp. my heart's a secret (give me the words) from KelseyO - imodna. don't let her stick it to your heart - searidings - supercorp. Keys by colormetheworld - rizzles.

12. Do you have a playlist for your current WIP(s)? Share it!

Here's a Dolcissimo playlist. Here's a general imodna playlist. There are JP Saxe and Taylor Swift playlists, too, but those have spoilers. You'll get them later, if you want them.

Are you curious about something? You can ask me stuff, too! Here's the list of questions, but my ask box is always open!

[girlpash]

Blair doesn’t let go of Sterling the whole ride home.

Sterling doesn’t speak, or look in the rear-view mirror, or stop crying; just stares blankly out the window thinking about the hand clinging to hers and about her sort-of ex-girlfriend pursuing her ex-boyfriend and about her mom actually being her aunt and about her twin sister being neither her twin *nor* her sister.

How do you mourn the loss of someone who’s still sitting right next to you?

(Post-S1 finale. Three parts, three hurting girls, three rounds of picking up the pieces. Title from Taylor Swift, per usual.)

[stepril-fic]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Blair doesn’t let go of Sterling the whole ride home.

Sterling doesn’t speak, or look in the rear-view mirror, or stop crying; just stares blankly out the window thinking about the hand clinging to hers and about her sort-of ex-girlfriend pursuing her ex-boyfriend and about her mom actually being her aunt and about her twin sister being neither her twin *nor* her sister.

How do you mourn the loss of someone who’s still sitting right next to you?

(Post-S1 finale. Three parts, three hurting girls, three rounds of picking up the pieces. Title from Taylor Swift, per usual.)

[killingevedaily]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Killing Eve (TV 2018) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova Characters: Eve Polastri, Villanelle | Oksana Astankova, Kenny Stowton Additional Tags: Post-Season/Series 02, begins immediately after 2x08, Post-Finale, You Need To Calm Down dot mp3, rated M mostly for language and homicidal subjects, I doubt there will be smut in this please don't get your hopes up, this whole fic is just going to be E + V being assholes to each other until they kiss, lots of fun planned I promise, Enemies to Enemies Who Make Out Summary:

(Hit the ground, Eve. Hit the ground. She’ll let you bleed out. She won’t bother with a second shot. She’ll leave. Hit the ground.)

Face-down, so she can breathe and panic and look around and panic and breathe without Villanelle seeing, listens for footsteps even though she knows Villanelle wouldn’t make a sound if she approached, thinks about the desperate fingertips that ghosted along her cheek moments ago and the cold cobblestones pressed against it now, tries to do the math for how quickly she’s losing blood.

“This fucking sucks,” Eve whispers to the clumps of dying grass she can feel brushing against her lips.

A single rusty wheel rolls into view, right in front of her face, followed by a pair of bright red pant legs, and she wonders if it would be overkill to vomit.