#also. let danny say fuck 2k23. i'm doing my part

[redgoldblue]

hello hello, for the ask game: 🌤️☔ and because that's sun + rain and i can never resist a rainbow emoji anyway: 🌈

thanku! 🌈🌈 we all know what wip i'm using for this

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

I was shocked, going through the doc by how little pure dialogue there is. apparently when i'm essentially writing ~30k of Emotions from the POV of a guy who hates acknowledging his emotions, a lot of it is internal/physical description. or at least mixed in with it.

actually. wait. i think maybe my favourite dialogue isn't even between Steve and Danny, it's Danny and Harry:

“Should I be offering congratulations or slapping the both of you upside the head?” “What?” “Yes, I rather thought that might be the case.” Danny spreads his hands in what he thinks is an appropriately ‘what the fuck are you talking about’ gesture, and follows it up by saying, “Harry, what the fuck are you talking about?” “Were you two ever going to discuss the fact that you’re in love with each other, or are you just planning to keep muddling along in the hopes that one day you’ll trip and fall into bed together?” Before Danny can come up with any kind of response to that, Harry raises a hand and amends, “No, sorry, you’re already in bed together. In the hopes that you’ll trip and fall onto each other’s cocks.”

🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP.

Danny brushes his teeth, combs wet fingers through his hair, washes his hands on autopilot. Then he sits down on the closed toilet lid and lets himself shake out of his skin. It’s almost habit now, this moment after Steve is discharged where the relief that he’s not actively dying clashes into the terror that medical professionals are no longer watching him, and the resulting noise reverberates through Danny’s body and sets him falling. He has no idea how long it ever takes, just that he sits with elbows braced on his knees staring at nothing until the flood of emotions recedes and leaves him with nothing but the dirty sand of exhaustion. That’s the usual path. Except that today, there’s a knock on the bathroom door and Steve’s voice calling, “Danny? You okay?” He can’t get out more than a grunt in response, still falling, drowning. The door cracks open, and Steve repeats, “Danny?” through the gap. Danny manages something that sounds more like human language this time, but it’s still not any form of comprehensible words. Or enough to stop Steve pushing the door fully open and crossing the few steps to stand in front of him. Then he drops to a crouch, resting his palms on Danny’s thighs for a moment before he reaches for Danny’s hands where they press hard against his own jaw and temple. Danny lets him take them, lower them, then slips his fingers down until he can find Steve’s pulse on both sides. It’s there, strong and steady, and Danny shuts his eyes and curls further towards Steve. There’s a reason he does this alone. He’s just having trouble remembering what it is right now.

🌈 Share something soft/fluffy from your WIP.

I can do one better - I can do soft and fluffy. mwahaha

Danny tucks the flower through one of Steve’s buttonholes to free his hands up. Steve, of course, looks down at it first like he’s baffled, and then rapidly like his pupils are on the verge of turning into hearts and popping out of his skull like a deranged cartoon character. Danny snorts. “You’re such a fucking romantic.” “Wh- hey,” Steve says, abruptly defensive, and Danny waves a hand at him before he can get any further up in arms. “Calm down, buddy. It wasn’t an insult.” Steve raises his eyebrows doubtfully. “Much of one,” Danny allows. “Not really. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

wip asks