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rosie-b · 4 months

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WIP Reblog Game

Thank you for tagging me @coffeebanana! <3

List the titles your top five priorities for WIP updates (link your fics for new readers!)

An upcoming scene, event, or detail in each fic that you're looking forward to writing

Bonus: make a poll for your followers to vote on which top 5 WIP they are most excited to see an update on!

Then tag 10 writer friends!

WIP TITLES

(I'm not sure if these wips are supposed to all be partially posted already or not, so here's a mix of fics with potential sequels and multichapter fics)

True Blue - enemies au + kwami swap (Marinette is the Peacock in this one) (it's been nearly a year since I posted the first chapter and I really thought it would be finished by now T^T)

Guilty by Association sequel (probably) - ladrien fake dating post-hawkmoth defeat

For the Sake of a Ring sequel (maybe) - lovesquare multiverse shenanigans before it was cool (unrelated to the paris special)

A Chat Walks Into an Office series (perhaps) - crack, ladrien, and gabriel realizing he's an idiot after an unexpected reveal

Growing Fangs (someday) - canon divergent future au centered on the next generation of heroes (the dupain-cheng kids) (it's been over a year since the last update bc i wrote myself into a ditch and can't get out of it hehe)

(As you might be able to tell, I don't leave most of my fics unfinished for long; I'm normally pretty good at leaving my ideas as oneshots or finishing them quickly.)

UPCOMING SECTIONS

The Gorizilla chapter!!!!! It's gonna be so fun (and an emotional roller coaster)

Ladrien with fake dating!!! The first fic was more-or-less a setup for this exact scenario. The problem: I have roughly no ideas for which direction to take this series atm

Ok, so this fic will be the battle scene from Adrien's pov, featuring many different universes' Ladybugs. I came up with one Marinette who is literally a rose and I love her so much so I'm most excited to try to incorporate her story (gonna be a challenge though)

Finishing the series. I might honestly end it where it is, but I do have a draft of Hawk Moth meeting Ladybug and explaining what happened (she doesn't believe him, of course, and she's very concerned for her partner)

Ok, after the decade-long timeskip, Chat and Ladybug will start off as the main heroes. However, they'll be forced to give their Miraculous to their kids for Reasons™, and I am very excited to get to that part and what happens afterwards (i swear i have a plan, it's just i keep getting sidetracked)

I get distracted by new ideas all the time, so the only 100% guaranteed updates are for True Blue (within a month) and Growing Fangs (before I die). BUT. I will be motivated to work on the other sequels if you guys vote for them or leave comments/tags saying you'd like to read them!

So:

10 new people to tag is a lot, so let's see: @lady-de-mon-coeur, @nemaliwrites, @marimbles, @chai-ki, @aidanchaser, @deinde-prandium, @ninadove, @fragileizy, and @hamsteriffic (no pressure, of course! and sorry if i re-tagged you)

#tag game #wip game

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simplysnowbarry · 8 months

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MARK YOUR CALENDARS ❄️⚡

Big thanks to everyone who voted in our poll recently. We can now announce that Snowbarry Week 2023 - our final full-length Snowbarry Week - will run from Monday December 4th to Sunday December 10th this year!

We’ve chosen the prompts from those submitted to us so as to speed the process along and give everyone plenty of time to create. And we’ve also got extras for artists, as well as a few song prompts.

prompts:

day 1, Mon Dec 4th - First + Last Time

day 2, Tues Dec 5th - Innovation

day 3, Weds Dec 6th - Reconnecting

day 4, Thurs Dec 7th - FREE DAY + any past prompts

day 5, Fri Dec 8th - Fantasy / Fairytale

day 6, Sat Dec 9th - "Just a normal day"

day 7, Sun Dec 10th - Post-canon / Future AUs

extras for artists:

silver and gold

hues of red and/or blue

song prompts:

The Script - No Good In Goodbye

Picture This - Take My Hand

The Heydaze - New Religion

Posting guidelines will be posted closer to the date. We hope to see you all in December, and in the mean time, HAPPY CREATING!

(!) F.A.Q

Who can participate in Snowbarry Week?

ANYONE! Writers, giffers, manip-ers (?), fan artists smol and toll. We welcome fan fiction, gifsets, manips, fanart, fanmixes, …

Can days be combined?

YES! Reconnecting with future AU? Or innovation and fairytale? All joking aside, you can combine whichever prompts you’d like.

Can I create work for both the artists prompts and the writer prompts?

ABSOLUTELY YES!

Can I use the artists prompts for a fic, or the writer prompts for art work?

GO CRAZY!

If I want to contribute something do I have to do something for every day?

Not at all. You’re free to commit to a single day, and we will be so flipping excited to see it. The point is just to have fun with the prompts, even if it’s just the one.

Can I post a WIP that I started working on before that fits a Snowbarry Week theme?

Yes, of course! We’re not a Big Bang, or even a Mini Bang, we don’t require art or fic to have been created from scratch for exactly this week.

I’m going to be busy/out of town during Snowbarry Week. Can I post early/late?

We’d really like to avoid early posting. If you’re out of town or too busy the week itself you can always schedule posts for the correct dates.

Posting late shouldn’t be a problem. Posting Day 1 on Day 3 is also perfectly fine, just make sure we can tell which day you’re posting for, so our heads don’t start spinning.

What does free day mean?

Basically, free day is where you decide what prompt you want to do something with. As long as it’s Snowbarry (or one of its variations like Savifrost, Flashfrost, etc), you’re okay to do whatever you want. A free day in the middle of the week might also provide some much needed breathing space for all the contributors.

Also, the same as last year, our free day now doubles as an opportunity to create for any of our past prompts! If there was a prompt you didn’t manage to finish something for, or just always liked the sound of doing but missed the opportunity, we’d love to see that for this day to have a fun revival of some of the great prompts from past events.

What does [insert theme] mean?

Oh man, this is a hard one to answer. Reconnecting could be about Barry and Caitlin getting to know each other after falling out, or after drifting apart, but it could also be about reconnecting with other things in their life or even as literal as reconnecting cables on some tech as part of an action plot! We can’t tell you which roles to cast your characters in, because everyone has different interpretations. If you can justify the connection, we’re pretty sure you’re good.

Does my idea fit the theme?

Like we said above, if you can justify it, we’re pretty sure you’re good. If you’re really not sure, hit us up!

If there are more questions, please don’t hesitate to drop us an ask. Any questions you don’t want published, feel free to come off anon and ask us as well - we promise we won’t publish what you’re not comfortable with, just let us know if you want it answered privately.

#snowbarry #simplysnowbarry #snowbarryweek #challenge #snowbarryweek23

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st4rdom-if · 2 months

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re: going a darker direction with the game, i don't have the impression that games with more mature themes have less fans than the ones that don't explore those topics. if anything, some of the most popular wips i know of right now are all 18+ and explore pretty dark themes (but that's obviously anecdotal and not based on a study or anything). you could always do a poll to ask people how they feel about darker story elements! (i'll enjoy this game either way personally <: )

I’d like to thank both of these anons (unless they are the same person??) for sending in these asks. You make valid points, and although I think that having a kpop based if with a genderlocked female MC of Korean origins is already too much for some, there are more sensitive issues I might want to touch upon in the future. But thank you regardless. And I’ll think about that poll too!

#answered #anon #st4rdom

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better-call-mau1 · 1 year

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sooo i'm curious about Nephews (And Nieces) Of Inexplicable Origin.... (Is it possibly what I think it is?? 😆)

Thanks for the ask! It most certainly is!!! 🤪😁 I had to go back and find our reblog chain with @that-one-loth-cat which started with your “Bo-Katan’s Obitine Flashbacks” (and this Satine & Sabine incorrect quote)…but yeah, the ‘nephew’ in question is Korkie, and the ‘niece’ is a Sabezra kiddo. 😉 The fic chronicles Bo’s saltiness over Satine passing off Korkie as her nephew, and she eventually gets to hit Ursa with an I told you so! that’s about 20-25 years in the making.

I didn’t have too much of this written when you sent the ask a few days ago, but I couldn’t help myself, so I finished the whole first scene. 😅

And fair warning, this snippet is from the POV of young Death Watch Bo-Katan, so there’s a fair amount of Star Wars cursing, i.e. variations of ‘kark’ and ‘kriff’. (Also, I gave Korkie a real name since ‘Korkie’ feels like a nickname. I’m not sold on it, though…might post a poll with a bunch of different candidates for what ‘Korkie’ could be short for.)

(Link to the WIP list for the ask game.)

“And then she had the audacity to call him her nephew! Her nephew! That’s how she decided to explain the baby she brought back with her! It doesn’t make any kriffing sense. I’m her only sister — her only sibling — so how do you think that made me look?”

Bo growled into her cup of tihaar and, rather brashly, swallowed down the rest in three fierce gulps. Her throat ached and eyes threatened to water, but not so badly that it blunted her ire over the red-haired little karker Satine introduced to her years ago.

Not that he was such a little karker anymore — Korkelan would be twelve now, and Bo wondered if he’d managed to connect the dots (of which there were only two, his ‘aunt’ and her Jedi protector), that had taken her all of five seconds to connect herself. The whole affair was more suspicious than a Jawa in a droid bar, and she had no doubt that it would explode in Clan Kryze’s face someday.

Glancing up, Bo found that her friend didn’t seem to be all that concerned with the not-so-inexplicable origins of her nephew.

Handle pinched between forefinger and thumb, Ursa bent her spoon back, preparing to catapult a red lentil across the banquet table. “One moment,” she murmured, squinting in the dim lighting of the tent. Slumped low in her chair to remain inconspicuous, she waited for the Saxon brothers to take their seats at the other end, each with a fresh cup of tihaar — one of the few tastes of Mandalore they still enjoyed on Carlac.

The head of the spoon sprang from her fingers, sending the lentil hurling across the table, soaring over Pre Vizsla’s bald head, and plunging right into Gar Saxon’s drink with a PLOP!

For a few long seconds, he stared down at the floaty in his cup. Stunned confusion morphed into disgust (as if a mynok had flown into the tent and taken a kriff on his plate), which simmered into a blind rage directed at the most likely culprit:

Skinny, slimy, pretentious Tiber.

“Aruetyc upstart,” Gar growled — and before the younger Saxon could utter a word of self-defense, his arm shot across the table and grabbed him by the collar of his bodyglove, lifting him off his feet and heaving him to the other side of the tent like a sack of joguns.

Ursa snickered in delight, sinking back and crossing her arms while watching the Brawn of Clan Saxon march over to the Brains and clobber him like a rabid rancor.

“I’m sure Count Saxon sleeps well at night knowing his clan’s future is in the hands of those two kriffhead di’kuts.”

Twirling her dinner knife, Bo leaned forward, planting her elbows on the table.

“Well, if you don’t want the future of Clan Wren to be in even worse shape, you should take my story as a warning. Anywhere you go in the galaxy these days, there are philanderering Jedi Knights preying on honest, Forge-going Mando girls. They whip out their lightsabers and put on a show with their perverse telekinetic shenanigans, and next thing you know, your sister is carrying around a ‘nephew.’ All it takes is one romantic jetpack ride. Mark my words.”

Ursa pried her attention away from the one-sided brawl to give Bo a flat, unconvinced look.

“Right. I’ll start worrying about Sab’ika going on romantic jetpack rides with unscrupulous Jedi boys when she can chew solid food.”

#hehehehehehe #this was really fun to write lol #it’s easy to forget that Bo-Katan and Ursa and Gar Saxon were all in Death Watch together #and I just threw in Tiber too because he’s such a sleemo #at least Gar was an evil himbo #anyway anyway the whole idea here is that Bo is all “PSA: hide your sisters/daughters from Jedi boys!!!!”#and Ursa is like “whatever my two month old infant would NEVER grow up to fall in love with some padawan”#and then that two month old infant DOES grow up #and she DOES meet a Jedi padawan #and she DOES fall in love with him and have an inexplicable little niece #and then Bo gets to drop an ‘I told you so’ that she’s been sitting on for decades #and she also shares a moment of solidarity with Tristan #jessicas-pi #thanks for the ask!#sabezra #obitine #bo katan kryze #ursa wren #sabezra fanfiction

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 10 months

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Ask Rules

My inbox should indicate whether or not I'm taking asks or match-up requests; sometimes mobile is funky though.

Current Status; Closed

General foreword before the rules;

I am only taking asks for Twisted Wonderland; more fandoms may be added later but there is no guarantee.

I can pick and choose what requests I take on.

If I feel like the ask is pushy or rude I simply won't answer it.

I only work on one thing at a time. When I'm writing more long-form works, I may take on smaller side projects such as match-ups as a little break so I don't get burnt out writing for one big piece.

I write primarily for a gender-neutral reader; they/them and you are used for the reader's pronouns. I can write for a femme or masc reader, but I am more comfortable with gender-neutral, plus it can allow for more people to interact. The only time I can guarantee using different pronouns for the reader is if it is for a trans reader.

Rules;

General

No NSFW or 18+ requests. I am not comfortable yet in writing that type of content.

No polyam involving Jade and Floyd, or any other cast members with family members for that matter.

Ortho and Grim are strictly platonic.

Romantic scenarios will have the cast aged up to 18+

If you ask off anon please reblog. Reblogging content is how it reaches people here on Tumblr. I am more than happy to read your thoughts.

Don't copy-paste requests you sent to other blogs. By that, I mean specific asks. Seeing someone ask multiple blogs the same request feels like a slap to the face; at least in my opinion. We're people, not machines, so please treat writers as people.

I won’t write about children; be it reader being one, having children or adopting children.

Headcanons

Limit to five characters. I find that I do better writing if I can narrow in on a few characters rather than the entire cast.

Please have a clear prompt.

Drabbles [500 - 999 words]

Limit to one character and a clear prompt. I can make exceptions if you want polyam, just please indicate it.

I mainly only do drabbles for follower events with a prompt list, but my slots are limited so I don't overwork myself.

If I am not doing an event, please include a clear prompt.

Fics [1K+]

I'm not taking requests right now. I have a Google Doc with some ideas but I usually leave it to a poll with random answers to decide what I work on next. Typically I only work on one fic at a time, yes, even multi-chapter ones.

Feel free to put your own brain worms in though. They might just infect me and end up on my Big Ol' List of Brain Worms [that is literally the name of my Google Doc for future WIPs]

Not a Writing Ask

Those are always open. Feel free to pop in, I just ask that you keep it on topic (be it TWST-related, writing-related, or if you have any questions).

I just ask that you be polite in the ask box, that's mainly it. Sorry if I seem blunt in responses, I tend to be straightforward with people that I don't know very well; plus I'm trying to keep most of my chaos contained to my main blog.

#ask rules #idk if mobile shows the message for the ask box; i know browser does but idk about mobile #when i'm not doing fanfic writing or interacting with moots i'm very blunt; it's just so that i don't have to worry about misunderstandings #blog housekeeping

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dilatorywriting · 1 year

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hello ~ hello ~

Hope you're feeling better! I, personally, have been a bit dead to the world since late April. This past May was kinda odd, honestly. I think everyone I know and know of just. died for the month. Collectively. At once.

I actually wanted to slide in here and pick your brain about your ongoing Monster Mayhem stuff, if you're up for it? Just like a general status overview question, since I feel kinda out of the loop 😭 And also because I know that I tend to like talking about my feelings on my current wips, so I figured maybe you might too? If not, dw!

I'll put these in bullet points since it's kinda easier for me to organize my thoughts that way

Jack: I remember you saying awhile back that you expect Part 2 to be the final part. Is that still holding up, or does it feel like it'll be longer?

Rook: From the pacing, I'm getting the vibe that this one might be another 4 part story? mayhaps? Or maybe Rook isn't like the other girls TM and gets something different.

Vil: I haven't read this one yet, but I'm excited to sit down with it soon! What's the overall length/number of parts you're planning for at the moment?

I'm pretty sure this was asked at some point before, but what's your stance on epilogues? There has been... discussion. about a Leona epilogue before, I recall, but are you considering epilogues for all of them, or only specific characters?

What's like. your vibe, rn? With each of the stories? Like in terms of "I'm really feeling this, so I'm working on it and it might be posted in the nearish future, assuming no disasters" to like "I plan to continue this, but not rn. I've got a different worm chewing on the brain lettuce atm". Ik you literally just answered an ask similar to this, and said Leona part 4 & Vil part 2 are the one's you're focused on, so I guess this is more so geared towards the Jack and Rook ones? Or other stuff you're secretly planning. I have a vague memory of a "forgot your birthday" scenario that was on a poll a few months back

I'm honestly just curious, really. Back from the dead and wanted to catch up

Also I. have a third Monster Mayhem Azul brainrot. It's not a fluffy one. If I can wrangle it into something more coherent, I may send it your way. Not dissimilar to the fashion of throwing a pebble at someone's window to get their attention, but accidentally putting a hole through the glass, and taking off running.

-Reaper

I'm gonna put this all under a little cut thing just because I feel like there's quite a lot! So here we go~

Jack -- It would still only be two parts I think! I only had short plans for that going forward, and it's currently at the bottom of my bucket list so to speak, not for any big reason just because Jack isn't one of my favorites so he falls behind on what I actually want to write.

Rook -- Was a bit more up in the air in terms of what I wanted to do. Had started writing a third part for it, but Rook's in particular felt very like, episodic? If that makes sense? Rather than an overarching cohesive arc. So I could write so much more little random side stories! But aside from a bit I had sort of planned regarding Riddle, there wasn't too much specific I had in mind.

Vil -- Probably one or two more parts to wrap up what I wanted with him; most likely one of the same length as the first. But that one of all of them may get a separate little piece because I am such a sucker for mermaids/sirens soooo that may get some special love

Epilogues -- bit of a mish mash. Really depends how I'm feeling tbh. If I want to write something, I'll word vomit like no one's business, but if I'm not overly invested then I probably won't bother writing one. But again

Vibe Check -- I’m absolutely wiped. Not with these stories, because I do genuinely love them. But like, back to back tough placements on top of illness is a trip. So I’m a bit more tired and less motivated than I normally am, just because most of my brain is chewing on actual school work and case reports and trying to not make myself look like an idiot every time I’m asked for a diagnosis list and go “uuuuhhhhhhhh.” But! I have some brain worms. Right now — big thing I’m working on is the second half of a very long commission. Which is loads of fun but also there’s so much to chew over there, so that takes a lot of my brain. On the side, I was really also writing my Vil Siren Part 2. Because that’s also a lot on the brain and it’s very different Vibe to the commission, so like it’s a good one to go back and forth between depending on what mood I’m in. Jamil is also very On My Brain right now oddly enough. I think because I read a short little Naga piece a while ago and it reminded me how much I love them. So that's on my brain a lot. As for the others, Jack has sorta fallen to the wayside admittedly. Mostly because I adore him as a Bro, but he’d just not usually a character my brain swoons over, so he’s sort of just… existing. I also wasn’t entirely sure where I wanted to go with that other than just “oh wow we fixed it together!” And that’s a factor too. As for other things, the birthday one comes back and forth depending on my mood, but idk if that’ll ever go up. I have lots of it written, but not enough to post or really toss together straight away. If that makes sense

#Asks

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sidekick-hero · 1 year

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Make me write!

Tagged by so many beloved people here (I think I at least voted in all of your polls, if not, I am sorry!) but this week has been a year so I'm only getting around to do this now. But I hope to find time to write on the weekend so please, make me write! 💜💜💜

Tagged by: @starryeyedjanai, @yournowheregirl,@steves-strapcollection, @pizzaqueen, @fragilecapric0rnn, @delta-piscium, @stevethehairington (I love you all 😘)

Rules:

Make a 24hr poll listing the titles of every WIP you want to work on. (It’s fine if you only have one, still make a poll for the vote count)

Tag anyone you think might also enjoy this game. (No pressure of course)

Whichever WIP title gets the most votes, write 1 sentence for every vote. If it gets more votes than your comfortable with, feel free to swap it to words.

If somehow that completes the fic or reaches the end of a chapter, move to the WIP with the second highest votes and continue where you left off on your sentence/word count. Repeat until you reach your goal.

(Optional) Share what you wrote in a new Tumblr post with a link to your original poll or attached it to a reblog.

Hunter and Prey (vampire!steve and hunter!eddie), Closing time (modern au with bartender!Eddie), history throws its shadow (Eddie POV missing scenes for "I wore his jacket") and the Big Bang are with my platonic writing soulmate @legitcookie 💜

Tagging no one because I feel everyone did this already - if you didn't, please do it and say I tagged you 😘)

#tag game #make me write

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pjisskullourful · 2 months

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this wip doesnt have an official title, so read it& vote in the poll to help me pick!

its the thomas knife kink fic& its at 2.4k words

Not many people knew about Thomas' collection of knives. Everyone collected something and for your boyfriend, it was different types of knives. He had them in every possible type, from all different price ranges, in varying degrees of ornateness. It was more than you could have possibly imagined when he offered to show you his 'little assortment' on your fourth visit to his apartment.

To someone else this might have been a scary moment, it could have been perceived as a threat. But by that point you had been well on your way to falling in love with him. You were captivated by him, fascinated by every detail you learnt and greedy to know them all. You had enjoyed the pride on his face as he showed the collection off to you, neatly and safely stored away.

There was a lot to admire in his catalogue. Your eyes had been especially drawn to the daggers with elegant and unique handles. But you also appreciated the blades with appearances so modern and streamlined that they almost looked like they were from the future.

Some had been made especially for him, which was seriously impressive. He had offered to teach you how to throw knives, a skill his dad had long ago shared with him.

He had let you hold a few of his favourites from the collection. You had liked the way they each felt in your hand, instantly getting the appeal of owning such an item.

But what you had liked most of all was the way the knife looked in his hand. It had prompted staring. What you had seen on his face was the calmness of a man confident in the control he wielded. It was somewhat similar to the look he wore when performing a guitar solo before a huge crowd, when he tapped into his talent and let his instincts lead the way.

It had also reminded you of the look he got when he was sexually dominating you. Once the knives were returned to their safe holds, you had put the moves on him. He had gone along with your seductive efforts, resulting in you getting fucked against a wall in the room where the knives were kept. That had been the first instance of him (or anyone) spitting on you, and your immediate reaction had been to say ‘thank you, Daddy’.

At the time, you had assumed it was the look on his face that had gotten you so enticed and insatiable.

But when he got home from a shopping excursion with Victoria, talking about the new knife he had purchased and your first reaction was to get very excited - it seemed a deeper assessment of the situation was necessary. You admitted to yourself that it was more than wanting him to show off the possession, as you would with a new jacket, or another thrift store find.

This wasn’t about seeing the dagger. This was about seeing him with it, what he would do with it. You wanted to watch him harness the danger, wanted to witness him exerting the control.

“Show me your new toy.” You said, moving in closer to where he had joined you on the sofa.

He paused, not diving his hands into the shopping bags within reach, instead giving you a look bordering on stern. “My love, the knives are not toys, not even a little bit.”

“Well I know that. I just meant that the way you collect them is like how people collect toys. And you wanna show it off to me like a kid with a new toy, don’t you?”

This got him to begin subtly smiling. “I do wanna show it off. Especially this one, it’s sick.”

You smiled, watching as he picked up the bag that held his new dagger. He pulled it out and brought it out of the provided fabric sheath. The handle was brushed metal with some patterning that drew the eye to a skull print centrepiece, in a darker shade of grey. The darker grey pattern carried through onto the base of the blade, which was polished silver. He told you that this shape was called Wharncliffe, but this particular blade was longer than what was standard. You nodded along - it was impossible to tell if you would retain any of this information, but you loved getting to hear it all.

He held the handle out to you. "Do you wanna hold it?"

"No, I don't need to hold it. I can see it fine from here." You said.

He gently gestured through the air with it and you couldn't help noticing how sharp that long blade looked, catching the overhead light. "Are you sure? 'Cause you're really looking at it, studying it, I'd say. So you can look at it closer, if you need to."

"I'm not-... I like watching you with it." You said, your voice a bit quieter than before.

He smiled and placed the end of the handle beneath your chin, maintaining enough pressure to ensure that you couldn't look away from his gaze. "You like it? What does it make you feel?"

You bit your bottom lip. "I don't know how to say it in a way that won't make you think I'm weird."

"When have I ever thought you were weird, or judged you for feeling a certain way?" He asked.

"You've never done that." You said.

"That's right, so tell me what you're feeling. Don't make me wait, my love." He said.

You shifted in your seat. "I don't really know how to explain it correctly because I'm still figuring it out for myself."

"It doesn't have to be eloquent, it should just be honest." He said.

You nodded your head, though the movement was more restricted than usual. "I'm feeling like I'm vulnerable, really vulnerable. But I don't hate it, in fact I think it's making me horny. I'm really concentrating on everything that's happening, like, I'm not the least bit distracted. And I'm so, so aware of how much my heart is beating."

"That wasn't so hard to tell me, was it?" He asked.

"No."

"Maybe we could explore this a little more?" He asked and that had your breath coming in quicker. “What’s your safe word?”

“Cheese.” You obediently provided, knowing that his goal wasn’t to push you to the point where you had to say it.

He took the knife away from your chin, holding it closer to his own chest for the moment. In a flash, he had repositioned on the sofa, putting his feet to the cushion as he crouched. His empty hand went to your hip, guiding you to face him all the more. Then he was leaning his body weight into you, pushing your back down to the seat.

You happily went along with this, hurrying to kiss him back as he climbed on top of you. The room shrank down to just this sofa as his body perfectly overlapped yours. You took your first opportunity to wrap your arms around him, holding him close as the kiss drew on. You felt him apply his hips to yours. He supported himself with both hands on the sofa, the knife held in the hand that was on the backrest.

“Is this helping with that horny feeling you were telling me about, my love?” He asked.

You began to push your hands in under his shirt, feeling the need to answer with actions as well as words. “Definitely.”

There was a smile on his face as he tilted his head, moving in closer again. Your eyes fluttered shut and you were anticipating the next kiss. He surprised you by instead dragging his tongue along your upper lip.

As he drew his tongue back into his mouth, he also brought your upper lip in as well. He concentrated his kisses just on this lip before progressing to sucking. You moaned in response to feeling the graze of his teeth on your tender flesh, he teased you with a hint of pressure and you wanted to assert that the lip belonged to him, along with the rest of your body. The prospect of his continuing nibbling doing damage to the lip prompted an excited heat to spread beneath your skin.

When he pulled back you were breathless, feeling your neediness rising up as a tangible presence within your body. As the wait for his next move continued, you opened your eyes.

That was when you saw the knife, it was directly in your line of sight. Your breathing immediately shallowed when you saw how he had brought it towards your face. The room shrank down even further as you stared at that blade closer than before. He was holding it by the handle, perfectly in control of the weapon inches from your face. He twirled it in his hand, allowing you to watch the blade slowly turn in a complete circle, drawing your attention to how sharp it appeared.

He licked his lips as he smiled. “Are you still feeling really vulnerable?”

“Yes, yes I am.” You said.

“Great, ‘cause that’s how Daddy wants you.” He said and you squirmed through your mounting anticipation. “You’re so sexy like this.”

He moved the knife a little lower, now directed toward your throat, but the distance between the blade and your skin was comforting. You trusted that the only threat was for the sake of play, so you could concentrate on returning his next kisses.

His kisses were slow and sensual. It wasn’t like when he rushed at you in a frenzy of passion, seemingly hellbent on robbing you of any breath. He was moving carefully, probably testing at your patience for his own amusement. His lips lingered and you were feeling only brief touches from the tip of his tongue.

It was lovely, but you needed so much more. You followed your yearning because you knew how much it turned him on to see you desperate. For a pause his mouth left yours and you felt him ease back a little. But you refused to accept this. With your eyes shut, you began to lift your head, determined to recapture his mouth.

Before you could reach him, you felt something cool and thin reach the skin on your throat. You furrowed your brow at this unexpected, solid item touching you.

You opened your eyes to the sight of him smiling, looking even more pleased now. From your point of view, you couldn’t see what he was holding against you. But you could see his fist and what his fingers were wrapped around. The handle of his brand new dagger.

You laid your head down again, your breath stopping for a moment. The look in his eyes was of control and certainty. He was confident in what he was doing, possessing all of the authority that he needed.

“Bella, should we keep playing?” He asked.

“Play? But I thought you said they’re not toys.” You said.

“The knives aren’t toys. But you- you’re my toy.” He clarified, making your heart flutter. “Get it?”

You just nodded your head, your concentration going to committing what he had just said to memory. It was instantly going into your mental Hall of Fame as possibly the hottest thing ever said to you. You would be thinking about this (and the tone of his voice and the way he was currently looking at you) long after you left his home next. This was as significant to you as the first time he had said I love you, maybe it was just as flattering.

His gaze softened momentarily. “Do you want to, or need to stop playing?”

“No.” You said at once. “I trust you, Thomas.”

You saw how this pleased him before the firm dominant took over again. “Do you wanna kiss me?”

“Always.” It felt like you were stating the obvious.

He remained leaning just outside of what you could reach to kiss, continuing to hold the knife hovering above your skin. “Come on then, come and give me a kiss- or thirty, or however many you want.”

You didn’t try to get a look at the dagger. Instead you kept your eyes on your goal - him.

There was some intimidation, which he was certainly aware of. But the arousal was so much stronger, it was overpowering, in fact. You needed him so badly that you would do whatever it took. You lifted your head and leaned forward.

The dagger touched your skin and you were determined to push through the trepidation. There wasn’t any pain when it pushed against you and then you got to his lips.

He kissed you back with as much intensity as before and you were feeling like you had genuinely claimed a prize. His unoccupied fingers caressed the side of your face as you savoured just how connected your bodies felt.

But then you started to notice the distance between your mouths. He wasn’t as close as you needed and little pauses separated one kiss from the next. This could have been time to catch your breath, but you would have much preferred to feel his lips and tongue. He brushed his nose against yours, then didn’t follow this up with a kiss.

So you extended yourself again, making the kiss happen. The blade was now firmly pressed into your skin, rigid and unyielding. But this wasn’t the detail that you concentrated on. You lived for the collisions of your mouths, he was letting you suck on his lip a bit.

He stroked your skin and it seemed ultra-soft in contrast to the sting that the blade had begun to bring. Your heart was thundering in your ears, but you couldn’t stop to acknowledge this.

He brought about the next stop. Sensing that he had moved a bit too far this time, you unhappily opened your eyes. The knife was just as close but he had propped himself up and entirely out of kissing range.

#fic preview

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thelightsandtheroses · 1 year

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Snippet: For You, I Would Ruin Myself | Dieter Bravo x f!reader

So this is the snippet people voted for in my recent poll of WIPS. I'm still writing this but I can say it's already over 7000 words and not finished yet and I'm having a lot of fun writing it and should be finished soon.

The basic premise, as described in the poll is: high infidelity and illicit affairs vibes with a Hollywood backdrop. I would say the spark for this whole thing was the high infidelity bridge/pre-chorus. That’s very much the aesthetic(?) of the fic? It plays around with time from the present to the past and yeah, I hope people enjoy it as much I have writing it. There’s blink and you’ll miss it references to sex in this snippet - so as with my blog in general minors dni/18+ please

Snippet:

Your phone is in genuine danger of overheating. Notification after notification, missed call after missed call roll in. You can’t face it.

You roll over on the sofa you collapsed into last night, bury your face in cushions and half-heartedly scream. No one can hear you, but somehow it helps. Your career might be over. Your engagement certainly is. Everything in you says you need to be on this; you need to respond, you need to speak to your lawyers and your agent and a goddamn crisis consultant probably. Your reputation, your future, it's all at stake. Hollywood won't be kind to you for a public cheating scandal like this, not when you’ve cheated on someone like Alex, not when it's with Dieter Bravo. You don’t want any of it. The doorbell rings. Once. Twice. Incessantly. There’s only one person who would do that, who would ring the bell in quite that rhythm. You sit up, rubbing your eyes. He’s not going to go away. You groggily make your way to the door, only half aware you’re still in last night’s clothes, still probably have last night’s makeup on your face which you’ve now smeared even more. You want to say he’s seen you in worse shape, but you know he hasn’t. You know you’ve never let him see him like this. Dieter Bravo is standing on your porch with what can only be described as a sheepish expression. He’s in a infuriatingly comfy looking t-shirt you want to bury yourself, he looks like he’s not long crawled out of bed himself. His hair is wild and unruly, how you like it. It makes you think of how he looks up at you sometimes, eyes wild and a salacious grin on his face, all too proud of the way he’s artfully taken you apart with his fingers, his mouth, him. “So, you’ve seen it then?” “Baby, I -” “Hey, congrats,” you say flatly, “I think you’re trending on Twitter.” “I’m sorry,” he says without preamble, “I didn’t think this would -” “Don’t worry about it.” Dieter touches your arm gently, grazes his thumb up and down your forearm and stares right into your eyes. “If you ask me to, I’ll deny it,” he says seriously. And he will, even if it shatters him in the process. And you’re sure it would, because if the psoitions were reversed and you denied it, it would damn well break you. "I think it's too late for that." “I didn’t want this for you, for us,” he says. “Not like this.” “Makes two of us.” You take a deep breath. “Do you want to come in then?”

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #the bubble #the bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal

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entityupdates · 3 months

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Post-DI, what's next for Masking series?

This post is going to be attached to the last Chapter of Destructive Interference (written 3/18/2024).

First of all, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. As I've said before, I don't really like posting WIPs, I thought I was going to finish DI far sooner than I actually did, so I'm going to make sure I finish the next installment in its entirety before I post it. But, I am going to take a break from this series first so I don't force myself and lose interest.

After I posted Masking, if you recall, I posted a fic called Immortality is Hard on the Mind. I'd originally intended to post a different submas/pla fic first and carry over the hype from Masking but I didn't like the ending so I abandoned it for several months. I picked it up again and I'm taking it in a new direction.

The fic is called We're Not the Monsters of Your Dreams. It's not posted yet but I have talked about it a little bit here. It's got some similarities to Masking (*cough* me turning Ingo into a creature) but thematically very different so I'm going to take my time on it to make sure I do it right. No real expected posting date, probably a few months, and I'm going to spend the next while working on it.

But back on Masking! Lots of ideas, nothing really in the works yet. When I finished Masking, a lot of you expressed interest in some kind of sequel about Ingo in the modern world and I think that is the logical next step but I'm not super inspired. Most of the ideas I have fall into 3 categories:

Sequel

Spin-Offs/What-Ifs

Other species AUs/Spin-Offs

I have ideas for a sequel with plot and stuff but I might just do something like 10 ideas from comments and write them as a slice of life fic.

Spin-Offs/What-Ifs would be more stuff like Destructive Interference that branch off from the main fic. What if Emmet went looking for Ingo? What if Ingo's ghost kept screaming? What if Ingo didn't leave Hisui? That sort of thing.

I'm most interested by non-Zoroark AUs but I do feel like I can write that just as a separate fic. Stuff like Alpha failed to make Ingo a Zorua so he became a Spiritomb wisp and Rei stuck him in the Odd Keystone or Hisuian Zoroark were used as blueprints for Type: Null so Ingo and his siblings ended up in the future via science revival.

I might do a poll? Let me know what you want to see though! I wrote down all the stuff you guys mentioned when I asked after finishing Masking and I plan to do something with it but I would like some recent stuff too.

#zhingo posting

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ashwithapen · 4 months

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the results from the badly summarised WIP poll are in...

and the winning vote was for option #3:

queer kid has 2 year long mental breakdown and will not stop writing about it

which won with 7 of the 17 votes cast! thank you to everyone who voted!

the WIP in question was tales, second edition, which is written as journal entries from a 17/18-year-old as they reflect on time as it passes. below the cut is the promised snippet! (it's actually quite a lot ehehe, enjoy!! <3)

[12] there are stop signs in the city.

this morning i had a dentist’s appointment. it took far too long, but that’s cause the girl cleaning my teeth was obviously new. she scratched my gums until they bled, and in my head, while i was lying there, i thought up what’d i’d say if she brought up my eyes watering slightly. apparently i have this thing where when i lay down, i get really weepy.

after, on the way back home to drop my sister, i was nearly in tears. it felt like i was going to shut down or something, my head resting against where the window met the car door. at a turning, i sat up and was met with a bright red stop sign in brilliant condition. i think i’d been thinking, “someone save me”, and then, like an echo almost, i heard three voices read the word stop. i could tell you who, but i think i’d like to keep that private a little while longer.

it was crazy, i thought, but undeniably on-brand. i was heading to my father’s office after my sister was dropped off to work on my psychology paper due an hour from when i’m writing this. all because i couldn’t handle a dentist’s appointment, i would fall apart and shut down in my dad’s office space, and i’d mess my grade up, and then none of the universities would take me. i applied last week and i’ve received three offers already. and all because of a dentist’s appointment, i could feel my future slipping away all over again.

i’ve been thinking about it since school started back, how this’ll be my “last time” doing so many things. last first term pre-uni, last halloween. last christmas show pre-uni, last independence day. last christmas as a child, last new years. getting the first offer from plymouth with a condition of grades i’ve already been meeting was basically being handed the golden ticket. i would be free to go. no matter if everywhere else told me to bugger off, i could leave. freedom.

i’ve been thinking about it since that sleepover a few months ago at my friend’s house. his brother, two years above us, was away at college for his second year, so i was sleeping in his room. it was so empty, much emptier than it was when he lived there full-time. just the scaffoldings of his livelihood still pinned to the walls and tidied into the corners, waiting for his eventual return. i wondered that night how my room would look without me in it, how the dust would totally coat everything, how the window panes might just fall out, how the haphazardly hung stars, lights, flags, and calendars might all come falling down in my absence. would it forget the smell of me? the warmth of my skin, tears, breaths, and the cold of my blasting AC? the familiarity of my motions, the sound of my alarm clock, the care embedded in my mannerisms?

i keep hoping that i’ll be right once more and uni will be how i anticipate, calculations scrawled like a whirlwind must have tunnelled through across the whiteboard. surely i will be able to work like it was spain, and surely the meds will still work, and surely i’ll wear hoodies, and wear my hair out, and wear my shoes thin. i’ll have time and accommodations and a chance. i’ll make new friends who i don’t need to explain myself or my loves to. hell, i’ll hug them and touch them and call them my family and call just to tell them i love them.

i worry that i’m wrong, too. i worry that nothing in the world will change and i’ll still be 13 and dumb as high hell. i’ll still be the outcast, more firmly than ever. i’m too much, even for my own breed. i write about the wrong things, and i love the wrong people, and i care about the wrong things, and i love the wrong places. i’m too different for normal, too normal for different. i’ve spent a whole childhood diligently walking the same rope that the acrobats must train decades to master—quite literally the balancing act of a lifetime.

it’s always been such a fine line, hasn’t it? always one pill away from a heart attack, one cut away from my last, one point away from a pass, always one grade away from a graduation, always one dentist appointment away from university. i heard three people say ‘stop’ and i felt something there, what i don’t know. i’ve forgotten. there are stop signs in the city, blindingly bright red and somehow i don’t heed their advice, choosing instead to fall and fall and fall, like a different acrobat, legs twisted in billowing silks. i do not know—and will not know—if i meant to fall until i reach the end of the rope, but i cannot stop now—and whether it's out of fear or some unbidden drive, i have no clue.

[13] there are murals on the walls of my mind.

i think that maybe i’ll be a philosopher. or a psychologist, like freud, i believe is how his name is spelt. similarly, i believe his whole thing was he didn’t prove his ideas. but just as i can’t ever look up how to spell his name, i can’t google his tendencies. still, i think i’m right about that—just don’t ask me why i’m right, because i won’t have anything other than more unsourced thoughts to spew.

so i watched a movie, “good will hunting”, and now i must think i’m the most pretentious person ever. not because i am (unless i am), and more because i’m so inclined to think like that blonde boy, to string together sources. there was a moment where i realised that not everybody, hell, a lot of people probably don’t relate to will. i do—not all the way, but i do. ever been pushed so hard or pushed away? ever been so cautious or conscious of yourself that you learn how to talk and talk and talk like your words can be a deterrent? ever known something so intrinsically, like maths, like words? ever said “i know” and known that yes, but on a deeper level, no? i think i’m the most pretentious person ever.

so i’ve been writing these essays for school recently. well, really, i’ve been writing one for maybe 9 months, but with how many times the title has changed, it’s only been half that. one’s about the link between autism and gender identity—a phrase i type in my sleep these days—and the other is about sociology, psychology, theatre, and video entertainment, and the rate at which trends are taken up. thrilling stuff across the board, i know. they are the easiest, hardest essays i’ve ever had to write. and the part that makes it so hard? that the people with the influence haven’t gotten around to studying my learned truths.

somewhat so similarly, i’ve had to, over the last year, write music for school. i’ve never had formal training when it comes to technique, but i gotta feelin’, ya know?—in that horrible “movie star from a different pay grade” accent, ya know? and they ask me to explain myself. i’ve done nothing wrong, but more so i’ve done something good, and none of them understand how i managed to get from A to C without sparing even so much as a glance at B.

in english, there’s a term called “parataxis”. i don’t remember the real meaning of it, but i tell it to myself “if it feels like there’s a comma here that only you and people similarly ridiculous would have put there, then it’s parataxis”. and how i came to this conclusion? i guessed as much with a raised hand back in september, and my teacher said something like “pretty much”, then said, “you do it a lot”. i’d have gladly played russian roulette with the odds that some limb i went out on stylistically as a fanfiction author was a real “technique”.

there were some times that i’ve been reminded of recently from when i was 10 or 11 years old, back at the end year of elementary school. (funny how my mind would take me back there now as i end high school.) once i made up a language on the spot because i couldn’t remember how i’d proofed a maths sum on a test and got accused of copying because of it, and then of lying for not owning up. second, i was afterschool talking with my teacher, and with some unknown, forgotten context, she posed that she’d rather be home than dealing with the situation at hand. she asked, “wouldn’t you rather be at home too?” and in my young wisdom, i stayed quiet, like how i should have done maybe countless times prior to that moment. i shook my head or shrugged eventually, and my teacher said, “what, you don’t know if you’d rather be at home or at school?” this time i definitely shook my head. i didn’t know.

so i’m turning 18 in two weeks, give or take. i’m scared to count how many days exactly. i’ve also got mock exams for the next two weeks, give or take. i’ve also got covid again.

so i’ve been wondering recently, like nietzsche probably used to, about whether or not i’m right. more deeply, i’ve been wondering if i’m real. i don’t know though, maybe i’m just feeling pretentious again. but i hear people in my head.

i don’t want people to read this, like how i imagine they will, and think that i was crazy. not to be insensitive, but sometimes i wish i were. then maybe i could consider existentialism from the comfort of my own holding cell.

“it’s not your fault.”

i’ve been thinking about that too recently, all the things i don’t remember from back then and back before and the other day and so on. i don’t know what, but there’s a piece of a puzzle missing under a sofa somewhere and a child’s fingers are an inch too short to reach it, so it is lost and forgotten, much like my life. just out of reach. i wonder, from the comfort of my own holding cell, if maybe the puzzle never existed in the first place. i haven’t had a good night’s sleep since before i was born, and i mean it. i died when i tasted oxygen, my brain was secluded and tubed and set down in a test lab where today it has sweet dreams about writing books about itself and hearing company within itself. what a strange, twisted, demented little thing you are.

have you ever seen picasso’s self-portraits? well, i hate to be the one to tell you, but it was me. i did them all. i saw a different person every time i thought about myself until there were 13 separate renditions of my life story. i pity them all, every sad-eyed abstract thought that went too far. i loved them hedonistically, fucked them till they bore the sweetest fruit, then scraped off their skins and devoured them and spat out their seeds like they couldn’t dare to grow anew. i made faces in the face of aliens, the whole human race of them, and in return i got broken mirrors, showing me these faces that aren’t quite me but who have my brain and my beautiful eyes.

when’s the foot dropping? it’s gotta be any day now.

i’m waiting i’m waiting i’m waiting i’m waiting i’m waiting i’m waiting i’m waiting i’m waiting i’m waiting i’m waiting i’m waiting

interlude g “the drop”

the feeling of an avalanche spilling over, tumbling helplessly down the mountainside. the feeling of the highest drop on a rollercoaster, your stomach up by your heart, your heart up in your throat, only now, i do not dare laugh.

she wishes me good luck. gracias. i think what a dumb thing, but it’s the hour now where the only thing left for me is dumb, good luck.

interlude h “sophia”

yesterday my friend was involved in a home invasion. the six men tied her, her brother, and her dad’s pregnant girlfriend up. her dad was killed. her brother was kicked. she was nearly raped. she was supposed to go away to study in milan this year, but when i texted her ipad (they took her phone), she told me she’s putting everything on hold until next year, even though we’ve only been in this year for short of three weeks. i asked her and she told me she’s still seeing the same therapist as me. she’s got a session on tuesday the 23rd. i asked where she was staying and she said that she wasn't allowed to say anything. there’s 24-hour security. her and her brother are going to be smuggled out of the country soon. they were supposed to be killed too, but the bandits didn’t follow through. i’m not sure i’ll ever see her face-to-face again. i’m not sure where she’s going, if she’ll go to america or come back here.

i thought about how much she changed my life. how i met her when we were 12, how she taught me the word gay, how she and i bore similar hand-crafted engravings in our skin at a time, how we planned her wedding in greece once, how we chased her dog down the beach the last time i saw her, a year a 21 days ago.

in other news, i turn 18 in 4 days. wednesday the 24th.

interlude i “gently”

i’ve not felt myself for a while, a sluggish embodiment of displacement. a presently ongoing, everlasting simmer that sighs great washes of hot vapour, condensation sticking faux-delicately to my ruined pink cuticles, and every exhalation is of insurmountable mourning: never enough.

to what do i owe the pleasure of this unannounced, unexpected visit? to which god must i bow so lowly? what charm of luck has been bestowed upon me that i should respire between walls of wallowing and beneath this ceiling so limited? a child’s becoming, a martyr’s martyrdom. at this end, i see for me my ever beloved cold; ice melting into deep brown irises, freezing my gaze upon this future.

every thrash drags my dejection further down. every breath of hope serves to suffocate, stuck in the wooden body hanging there in the windowsill, spinning the poor thing in a way so unbecoming that it almost makes me envy it. a life cut down thoughtlessly. caught by the earth’s cold, smothered by the darkness, embraced by such resignation. if i am to be something so estranged, then let it encompass me. let it swallow my brightness, stars blinking out endlessly across the whole universe. let it become me. let me be estranged. let me be slowly forgotten as the first child’s laugh, as the first lovers’ night, as the first mother’s grief, as the first dead’s eulogy.

i will become what i have never dared to, so long as my flesh is still warm.

#ash.txt #ash writes #get wipped lmao #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing #writers and poets #writers #writerscommunity #writer

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angstmongertina · 10 months

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Make Me Write More Results/Sentences

Okay, my poll is over, so it's time to write. As i said in my little update reblog, since I didn't get all too many votes, each fic gets new sentences based on the number of votes it got, in an effort to force me to write more for all of them.

Thanks for playing, everyone (and thank you again to Jilly for the inspiration)! If you had fun, I might do this again on Tuesday for WIP Wednesday. No pressure to vote if you don't want to though. :D

Accountability sentences (and fic premises) under the cut! Please be warned that some of these sentences will probably make no sense out of context, and are also rough first drafts. :P

Letters to Nadia -- From a shared 7KPP 'verse with @teaandinanity's Valya where our characters' kids decided they were in love with each other. (4 sentences but I cheated and added an extra.)

But now, he’s finally, finally, made it back home, back to the safety of the empty study with a decanter of baijiu, free from prying and judging eyes. Free from her eyes. He groans, barely resisting the urge to dash out the door. For one thing, he’s not sure if he’s cogent enough to make it next door, and for another, she’s likely long gone to bed, never mind the fact that there is absolutely no way she’ll even want to see him in the first place. And that is a thought that stings worse than the liquor.

Evenly Matched -- The previously hinted at 7KPP Jaslen/Falon smut that I am PRAYING doesn't start a new ship in me. (3 sentences)

“My dear general,” and there’s the scowl she is familiar with, that seems to make its way across his face with almost military precision, “I have no idea what you could possibly be referring to. Are you quite well?” Her estimation of him is satisfyingly correct.

forever i'm yours, forever i do -- A retelling of Artem's second anniversary card that started as just an attempt to write out the smut and that VERY MUCH grew out of control HELP (3 sentences)

“You’d think you were the one getting married today, not me,” she says, amusement dancing in her eyes as she shoos him away. “Now go and tell my soon-to-be husband that no, he cannot come see me before the wedding; it's bad luck. Nor are you allowed back her to see her either.”

Oh Brother -- Again from the shared 7KPP 'verse mentioned above, Thomas' little sister's version of what happened. It's still in the very early stages so this is more exposition than anything. (3 sentences but adding in a fourth because it was half-finished anyway.)

The eldest daughter of the entire Galeric-Wu clan and the future heiress to the Galerford estate beyond, she could easily have humored and generally ignored a young cousin twelve years her junior and perhaps another girl, another future duchess, would have. But instead, Nadia had chosen to dote upon them all, treating her with the same understanding and love that she gave all of her friends and loved ones. Well, perhaps not all. Because it is an equally well-established fact that, despite all attempts to hide, dismiss, or minimize the fact, Nadia has a favorite cousin.

Spiral Point -- More 7KPP because the brainrot is real, but this time for Camyon's childhood friends AU. Here is their first interaction at the Summit, when neither of them actually recognize the other. :D (3 sentences)

There was no sensible reason why she should have been struck by his appearance, by the way his brow furrowed, first in search and then in recognition, but for one illogical moment, her heart climbed into her throat, only to settle back into her chest with an inexplicable twinge once he spoke. Of course it was about her cousin. He had known Cousin Jiya, a fact that her mother never failed to tease her with, when it came to her own lack of socialization at those academic events hosted by her fellow Jiyelese elite.

Dinghun Zhou -- My attempt at a fairytale AU, it's CinderLia. In an alternate universe in which there is no Summit, but there's still an event to try and find a wife for the perpetually single Duke Lyon. (2 sentences)

She pursed her lips, studying the flimsy pieces of parchment as though they might contain answers, or at least a logical explanation for her misgiving. Unfortunately, and just as expected, none were forthcoming.

Homecoming -- For the CoG story Teahouse for the Gods, because the A'Li romance was right up my alley but we didn't quite get enough of it, in my humble opinion. It's technically two different fics (I should really come up with a proper name for the other one) but I picked the one I had more inspiration for--which you may be unsurprised to learn is probably the angstier of the two. (1 sentence but I cheated again with two.)

It takes a moment for her to clear the memory out of her mind’s eye, to remind herself of the present, and in that time, he’s already stepped into view, though his head is turned, this way and that, as though cataloging every difference in the ensuing decades. Jacqueline darts to her side, half in shock, and she makes a mental note to sit down with the poor thing before his eyes fall on her and the entire mountain seems to hold its breath.

Seasong -- Back to Tears of Themis, a friend did some art for Mermay which inspired an AU in my head that I never got very far in because I am terrible at multichapter things. (4 sentences)

She knew of cages, had seen the ones that sunk, irrevocably, ceaselessly, to the bottom of the sea floor, had heard them whispered of by those unlucky few who had witnessed the capture of one of their own, and the stories of those even unluckier who had somehow managed to escape from such capture. She had heard of the fear, of the isolation, of the greed and malevolence of those humans, who hunted and tormented without need, who captured and traded without compassion. She had heard tales, once meant to frighten her away from the surface, of the many, many who were unable to escape. And now she was trapped in one.

Okay, that's everything, I think. If you read until here, thank you, and maybe see you on Tuesday for another poll? :P

#Tina rambles.#Tina liveblogs her writing struggles.

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