#fff180

[alexthefly]

Just In Case

My first ever attempt at the @flashfictionfridayofficial challenge. It's a bit ropey, but it's a thing that exists, so yay progress!

Fandom: Thunderbirds/Thunderbirds Are Go

Word count: 999

Rating: teen

Warnings: Kissing, brief mentions of alcohol and poor mental health.

...

“Now boys, promise me you’ll be good for your mother. Mind your manners, do your chores - all that good stuff, okay?”

An enthusiastic chorus of “Yes Sir”s - together with Scott’s attempt at a salute - and Jeff was compelled to bend down for one last hug with his two tiny Tracys. For a moment he soaked in the smell of soap in his sons’ hair, the feeling of little arms wrapped around him, and of sticky wet kisses on his cheeks.

His heart ached.

Finally he rose again. “Alright boys,” he said, clearing his throat, “to your duties. Dismissed!”

And with that they were gone, racing past their mother on their way to whatever adventure Scotty had convinced Virgil to go on with him today.

“Stay in the yard you two,” Lucy called after them before walking over to Jeff, holding his hold-all. “I packed your father’s penknife for you,” she said, “just in case.”

Jeff took the bag and kissed her on the cheek. “You didn’t need to do that, Honey. Lee's got all the tools we could possibly need on board.”

“I know,” she replied, shrugging. “It’s just in case.”

He chuckled. 

Her favourite phrase.

“Alright then; just in case.”

*

“Promise you’ll write?” she asked as they got to the front door.

Jeff turned back, eyebrow raised.

“Write? Is this Victorian England? We have holo’s; I can just call you.”

“I know,” she said, nodding. “It’s just it’s so far, and comms can be unreliable-”

Jeff laughed. “Those same comms you want to send emails through?”

Lucy scowled up at him. “Don’t be an ass, Jeff! I just meant you’ll be so busy, and trying to match up Moon/Earth timezones and stuff, it’s easy to miss each other. I just thought… just in case… it might…”

She huffed and looked at the ground, as if the right words might be scattered down there, and he felt a fresh wave of love for his remarkable, bewildering wife, whose brain was so much quicker than her mouth; who got flummoxed and tongue-tied even as she was thinking circles around you. Trying to keep up with her was like trying to keep pace with a whirlwind. 

But god didn’t he just love trying?

His clever, clever Lucy, unfathomable and completely fascinating. 

Gently, he reached out and brushed her flushed cheek, willing her to look at him.

“It might…?” he prompted.

Brown eyes met grey. Something brief and inscrutable passed across her face, then she smiled.

“Well…” She cleared her throat. “I just thought it might be something to look back on one day, when we’re old and grey, remembering when we were parted lovers. Like those love letters you see in movies sometimes.”

“Uh-huh. And you thought I’d be ‘leading man material’, huh?” He grinned, puffing out his chest.

“Shuddup,” she grumbled, batting his arm. “Remind me again, how are you planning to fit that ego of yours inside that tiny rocket?”

“Ouch. Kick a man on his way out the door, why don’tcha?” He staggered, clutching his chest and feigning a grievous wound, eliciting giggles. 

“Oh yes, definitely got the ‘leading man’ theatrics down!”

“I’m telling Lee you called his rocket ‘tiny’, by the way.”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

An eyebrow. “Try me.”

She went to bat him again but this time he caught her and, holding her in his arms, kissed her softly, tenderly, committing it to memory.

As they finally pulled apart, he saw the flush in her cheek was back. Not ready to completely let her go just yet, he cupped her face in his hand to admire it. He thought of the cherry blossoms in the orchard, just beginning to bud, and how the pair of them had walked together amongst them as he’d shown her the deployment papers. He’d lamented the fact he’d miss the full, floral display this year, even as he thought about what else he would miss...

“Alright Honey,” he said, holding her close, “if you write to me I promise I’ll write back. Write and tell me everything that’s going on at home. I want to hear all about what Meryl was gossiping about at the car-wash, or how much pork has gone up at the market, or exactly how much of an idiot Sheriff Buckley made of himself at the county fair.”

“You’re making fun of me,” she said, pouting.

“I promise I’m not, darlin’.” He took her face in his hands and looked her square in the eye. “I want to know everything. Tell me how Dad’s making a nuisance of himself trying to fix every fencepost around the place. How Mom won’t stop bringing you casseroles and you’re running out of places to hide ‘em.”

Lucy choked back a giggle.

“Write and tell me about every adventure and every scrape the boys get into. Let me know every single thought that goes through that beautiful mind of yours. I want to hear everything. Every moment. Don’t miss out a single thing - write it all. And one day we’ll read them together, side by side in the nursing home, surrounded by grandkids. Okay?”

“...Okay.”

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

All was quiet in the villa. Padding softly over to check the lock, Jeff returned to his screen and, after gathering himself together, brought up the hidden file.

The last time he’d looked at it, he’d not been in a good place. There had been whisky. It wasn’t… It was a mistake.

He was better now. His boys had pulled him through. 

Together they’d found a new purpose.

It was time.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the file. 

“Dear Jeff, how are you doing? I hope Lee isn’t driving you too mad yet. Virgil cut another tooth today…”

One last gift from his clever, clever wife, who’d known that not every love story ends in the nursing home. Who’d realised that one day one of them might need something to help remember the good times.

A contingency plan.

Just in case.

[gumnut-logic]

Promise you’ll write

I actually wrote a scene for @flashfictionfridayofficial​​  ! And on time and within the word limit and everything. This one, according to Word, clocks in at exactly 550 words. So short and hopefully sweet of some kind.

Pre-series Thunderbirds, Earth & Sky. Just a conversation.

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

“Promise you’ll write?”

Scott looked sideways at his little brother. The sun was setting across the field and Virgil’s dark hair was haloed in the gold bouncing off the dry grass. A breeze was blowing, rustling desiccated filaments into a hiss.

It was the last of the summer and the very beginning of so much new.

“Of course.”

The scent of warm earth and the end of the day was a sweet breath, full of memories.

Virgil sighed but didn’t say anything further, his gaze staring out over the field before turning back towards the homestead.

Scott shifted his shoulders. He wanted to go, but he didn’t. This step into the Air Force was everything he had ever dreamed. But it would take him away from his family for a longer time than anything else ever had.

And it hurt.

More than he thought it would.

“I’ve written a master list for you.”

Virgil looked at him at that, eyes dark against the gold. “Of what?”

“Oh, a few things you might not know. Allie’s extra hiding places; Gordon’s stash; how to get John off the roof.”

“I know how to get John off the roof.”

A soft snort. “Yeah, well, consider this back up.”

That earned him an eyebrow.

A lopsided smile. “Had to leave you the big guns.”

Virgil grunted. “I have big guns. They just use different ammunition.”

“Well, consider this an addition to your arsenal.”

“Duly noted.”

There was silence after that, only the sun and the breeze moving around them. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. He knew Virgil hated the fact Scott had to leave. They had been joined the hip from the moment his younger brother was born and this was a big step. A parting of ways. Not necessarily negative, just challenging.

Scott wanted to go. He had to go.

It just sucked to say goodbye.

“I’ll be back regularly.”

“Yeah.” Virgil stared out across the field before looking down at the ground they were sitting on.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Scott.” He looked up. “You have my support. Hell, in a few years’ time, it will be me leaving. All the Tracy brothers scattered across the globe, doing the things we are destined to do.” He absently waved a hand to encompass all those directions. “But you’re the first. And you’re you. And…” He sighed and looked away again. “It’s just that it feels like an end as much as it is a beginning. As if this is the last time we will all be together.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Virgil glanced at him before returning to staring into the distance. “We’re growing up, Scott. Change is inevitable.” He sighed.

Scott reached out and wrapped his arm around his little brother’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“You’ll always be my brother, Virgil. Nothing can change that.”

The breeze ruffled Virgil’s hair, teasing at Scott’s cheek.

“I will miss you.” Virgil could be barely heard above the breeze.

Scott stared out at the farmland he had called home his entire life. “Yeah. I’ll miss all of you, too.” He breathed in that earthy scent. “All of this.”

“Promise you’ll write?”

The sun dipped below the horizon and the sky suddenly lost its brilliance.

“Yeah, I promise.”

-o-o-o-

[katblu42]

Promises

For @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt #180

I'm super glad that @alexthefly covered the part I had in my head that I couldn't get to in the word limit, because I could not have written it that well!

And, since @gumnut-logic beat me to the first part that came to mind, and covered that so perfectly . . .

This bit kind of follows on from there.

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: G Word Count: approx 978

Virgil had made the request of Scott before he left for basic training.  The desperation buried layers deep beneath the words echoed in his own heart.  He had made the promise as much for himself as for his brother.

The two of them had been so close for so long, had shared so many moments, so many secrets, and such a strong connection that Scott found it difficult to adjust to not having the brother who had become his best friend around.  Often had he turned to say something, or ask something or share something with Virgil, only to feel his shoulders drop and the words die on his lips as the smile faded from his eyes when he realised he wasn’t there.  So often in fact that Smithy had commented on it repeatedly.

“Looking for your shadow again, Tracy?”

And the name had stuck.  To Scott’s Air Force buddies Virgil was now known as Shadow.  He would never say it to Virgil, but Scott saw the truth in the nickname.  He really did feel like he was missing a part of himself, and yet he was still whole. What was missing was the presence he’d come to think of as always being there, just over his shoulder, a few steps behind, or right beside him.

True to his word, he had written texts and emails almost every day, and called home as often as he could to speak to the brothers he missed.  His new band of Air Force brothers were great, but home was where his heart remained, and writing to Virgil was less about keeping his promise and more of a necessity for his own sanity.

*

A few years later, with Virgil and John both now away from home, in different cities, different time zones, and communications with Scott more restricted due to strict Air Force protocols while on missions, it had become customary for the two next eldest Tracy boys to call and chat at least three times a week before John headed to bed.

This particular night Virgil had played piano as they talked, mostly about the stars John had been gazing at, and a request one of his professors had made for some of John’s assignment papers to be used in new teaching texts.

Both the music and the stars were comfortingly familiar, a soothing balm for John’s conflicted mind as he mulled over his decision. 

If he agreed to what the professor was asking, some of the information contained in his assignments would need to be rewritten in a way that was a little less technical, a little more approachable for those new to astronomical study.  He wasn’t sure he could do that.

“I know you can do it, John.”  Virgil stopped playing for a moment.  “You have such a poetic way of talking about the stars, and an infectious enthusiasm for all the discoveries made through exploration of space.  Just write as though you’re explaining it to me.  Or, even better, write the way you talk to Alan about the stars.”

John sighed.  Virgil resumed playing.  John changed the subject.

“Is this one of your compositions?  I don’t think I’ve heard this one before.”

“It is.  It’s new.  Still working out the kinks.”

“Promise you’ll write this one down.  I like this one, and I’d hate for you to forget it when you move onto the next piece.”

Virgil gave a soft chuckle, not surprised that John was enjoying listening to a piece that was essentially an attempt to capture his brother’s love of the stars.

“I promise.”  Virgil stopped playing again and looked directly at the holocam, trying to look John in the eye.  “But you’ve got to promise you’ll write those teaching texts for your professor.  I can read through what you write and let you know if I think there’s anything that’s still hard to understand if you like?”

There was a moment’s pause.  “Send me a recording of this piece of music, and I’ll send you the new version of my astrology paper.”

“Deal.”

*

Another couple of years go by and the littlest brothers are growing up.  Gordon is Olympics bound, excited and apprehensive as he prepares to join the rest of the US swim team and depart for the games.  His bags are all packed and Virgil is here to drive him to the airport.

“Here,” Virgil thrusts a book into Gordon’s hand.  “You’re about to experience a whole bunch of new and exciting things, many of which you’ll never want to forget.  This is a journal.  Promise you’ll write everything down – how it all feels, the little details that catch your attention, the big moments you think you’ll never forget, everything.  I want to see it all through your eyes.  That way it’ll be like I’m there in the village with you.”

Gordon wrapped his big brother in a tight hug and held him there until the tears that threatened were back under control.

“Thanks, Virgil.  I promise I will.”

*

And soon enough Alan is navigating his way through home schooling on Tracy Island, racing ahead in the subjects he enjoys, but tending to lag with the assignments he’s less interested in.  All his big brothers, and his Grandma have helped supervise his studies, and taken their turns at keeping him on track.  Today it’s John who’s checking in on his progress.

“I know you like the math and science subjects more than English, but you can’t let your assignments slide like this, Alan.”

“I know, I know.  Education is important.”  The eyeroll was big enough to see from space.

“Promise you’ll write those two overdue book reports.  Get them done by the end of the week, then maybe I can show you the photos I took of that nebula we talked about.”

“Really?!  Photos from Thunderbird Five?  I promise!  I’ll get started now.”

[caranox]

Flash Fiction Friday Prompt #180: Promise You'll Write @flashfictionfridayofficial

A Promise Broken

Sand shifted under Lars's boots in his agonizing march forward. The sun burned against his skin hotter than any fire he'd stoked in the kitchen and agitated under a pan of sizzling vegetables. No wind sang in his ears like the haunting melody of the woman he'd likened to his mother for the past several years.

Instead, a small beaded chain rubbed against itself with each wobbling step, its pendant plates digging into his palm and slicked with sweat. The only sound that intruded through his panting.

"You want to stay?" The surprise when she'd asked made his stomach knot. "You don't want to go home?"

Home.

Saints, that word rang so hollow to his ears the moment it slipped from her mouth. No lush paint brushed onto the canvas of his mind to show him where that was or who that was with. No names tickled the back of his thoughts. No memories surfaced from that deep, dark abyss in which they had fallen, back just before this woman's forest green eyes stared back at him the first day they'd met.

"I barely know my own name," he rasped, swallowing back that pain emanating from that cavernous void. "How can I step foot in a place I don't recognize—to people I don't recognize—"

Her face crumbled as she rounded the table and wrapped her arms around him. "Then you can stay," she whispered.

How quickly that life passed before his eyes, the days falling into months and those months piling up into years. Years with small drips of echoed words without context until some stranger stood in front of him and breathed his name as if he'd seen a ghost.

Like a crack in a pane of glass webbing outward until it shattered with the tiniest tap. He should've stopped trying to reinforce it, but that terrified part of him didn't want to let go of this life.

All the new memories clashed with the old, forcing him to remember every little step that'd brought him here.

"No matter what, you'll always be my son. You will always be welcomed here. I chose to accept you when you were lost."

He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped to his knees.

"Even if one of us is a monster in the end?"

The phantom itch of his military uniform's stitching rubbed at his neck, and he tugged his ratty scarf over his head.

"Neither of us are monsters, Lars."

"But you knew I was with the enemy and still took me in. What if I tried to kill you?"

She cupped his face, his growing sunburn turning into a comfort in that brief recollection.

"We're people. We make choices and mistakes. We learn. We grow. Promise me you'll remember that."

His mouth had twitched, uncertain he could promise such a thing when he couldn't remember the last one he'd made to a face he couldn't conjure. "I promise."

But now he remembered that face. Those kind, dark eyes and soft wrinkles of a woman wrought with worry as she hugged him goodbye.

His fingers uncurled and the metal tag shone in the early afternoon light. Stamped letters spelled out his full name, the surname a perfect match to the boy that'd placed it in his hand after Lars had apologized for not recognizing his own brother.

He'd been there to see him off to war, along with their youngest brother, and Lars's real mother.

"Promise you'll write."

A promise from another life.

A promise he couldn't keep.

[renee-writer]

Promise You'll Write

For @flashfictionfridayofficial fff 180 prompt and in honor of the Greatest Generation

“Promise?”

“I have said as much.” He replies with a smile. “and don’t I always keep my promises?”

He always has. She knows that still, to see her first born leave for college so far away… she hates it. “Yes, I still don’t see why you couldn’t go closer.”

“You know that U of H has the best program for pre-med of all the ones I was accepted at.” He reminds her.

“Yes.” A deep sigh, “I know. I don’t have to like it.” He smiles and hugs her.

“I will write everyday after classes. I promise.” She has reason to worry with all the strangeness happening in the world. “And don’t worry, the war will stay on the other side of the ocean. Roosevelt doesn’t want another war.”

She knows he doesn’t and it helps her nerves calm down. “Exactly. Thank you my son for reminding me of that.”

December 7th, 1941, he wakes up early and posts a letter to his mother, as promised. He then heads to his classes at Hawaii’s largest hospital, on the big island. The sirens wail as the Japanese attack the navel base of Pearl Harbor.

“We need a doctor on one of the ships.” He doesn’t hesitate, running to do his part.

The guns fire again and the ship sinks to the bottom of the harbor.

She receives his last letter a day after finding out her son died.

[jlilycorbie]

Promises to Keep

[#FFF180 Promise You'll Write @flashfictionfridayofficial​]

Neither of us knew, could possibly know, they would be her last words to me. Amity said it more than once, and as we hugged fiercely, she pressed her face against my throat and whispered it one more time: "Promise you'll write." Even before I got the news, the words clung to me like spider webs, more even than the taste of her kisses, the smell of her skin.

It was just like her to make that promise impossible to fulfill.

I tried anyway. I spent hours composing emails, agonized over message windows. But she didn't say email or DM or chat. She said write. And all I could think about was all the other inboxes that would never be checked again, all the marketing and spam and the occasional sad message sent off into the void to never be read. I couldn't do it.

Strange as it seems now, I wasn't even thinking about her while I browsed a rack of postcards. But I saw one and before I could catch myself I thought, Amity would love this.

So I bought it. It took a few days, but eventually I sat down and lit a tea light and I wrote. In tiny, cramped writing, I told Amity about everything she'd missed. About how much I missed her. About how angry I was at her, and how I knew that wasn't fair, but I couldn't help it. She was leaving, but she wasn't supposed to leave.

I wrote over the address block. I wrote over the square where the stamp was supposed to go. My hand cramped and I kept going. Who even wrote anything by hand anymore? But I had so much to say, and I even wrote on the front of the postcard, and when I was finished, I held a corner of it over the tea light until it caught.

It seemed like such a good idea until I realized the fire was creeping toward my fingers and I had nowhere safe to drop the postcard. Cursing, I scrambled and grabbed a ceramic plate in the kitchen, dropping it just before I scorched myself. This was exactly the sort of thing Amity would want to know about.

Blinking away tears, I set the plate by the candle. I bent to blow out the little flame, then changed my mind. I'd lit the candle for Amity, it felt wrong to snuff it out before its time. I left the ashes to cool and the candle to burn out.

The next day, when I went to clean up my mess, I discovered a heart in the ashes, like someone had dragged a finger through them the same way someone might trace a picture in fog on a mirror.

Like Amity used to do.

I was thinking about her so much lately. Had I don't it without thinking while I stirred the ashes to see if they were cool? That had to be it.

Still, a few days later, I found myself lighting another tea light and writing again, this time on a regular piece of paper. I told her about how I tried to set myself on fire, and how hard it was that I couldn't just call her whenever I wanted. I had the plate waiting this time, and I sat there for hours while the candle burned down, staring at the ashes.

Nothing happened.

I should have stopped. Should have accepted it as a fluke, as a slip in my memory because I missed Amity so much. But I started carrying a little notebook, and whenever I had one of those moments–I have to tell Amity about this–I'd write it down. And at the end of the day or the week or the month, I'd take those notes and I'd burn them.

And as long as I walked away and let the candle burn down, when I came back, I'd find a message from her. Another heart, a smiley face. A word here or there. When I told her some particularly exciting news, the next day !!! greeted me.

During an especially rough patch when I told her maybe I should come visit her sooner rather than later, she answered, No rush.

I had questions for her. So many questions, but it seemed at best all she could send me were a few words. A bigger candle, an easier surface to mark, those seemed to give her more words, but not enough.

Still, one day I sat for a long time at my desk, staring at a candle with a blank piece of paper in front of me. Finally, I asked my most pressing question. Just one word: Why?

The next day, the answer waited. I promised, too.

[writing-far-too-badly]

To a Friend

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial ! I love it so much.

I saw you last Thursday, asleep in my dream And woke up remembering the times that we'd shared I called you on Friday, and time flew so fast Before I had noticed, two hours had passed

We both had commitments, so ended the call Or tried to at least, but that's how it goes We said keep in touch and then went on our day I'm writing this letter, I had more to say

It's strange how grey life is when you're not around I've never seen skies quite as blue as with you But life pulled me north as it pulled you south west For lives that we wanted, it's all for the best

So I'll post this letter, and send it with love And hope that I'll see you once more face to face Until then I'll look in my mailbox each night And hope that you'll keep to your promise to write

[on-noon]

He Told Me

for the @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt "Promise You'll Write"

word count: 181

“Don’t forget to write,” he told me. He reminded me fourteen times before I left.

I haven’t forgotten. As soon as I got to the school, I wrote him a letter about my journey. I wrote a letter about my first day, one after my first week, after my second week. In the middle of my third week, after a month. Almost every week.

I told him about my classes, about the campus, about the new people I was meeting, what I had for lunch, whatever I learn something crazy whether from class or one of my friends.I told him about the snowstorm, about the time our professor didn’t show up, and we ended up having a duel in the classroom.

But he never wrote back.

It takes around two days for a letter to travel either way. It’s been two months. 

I’ve gotten letters from others in the town, and they didn’t mention anything happening to him.

I just finished another letter to him, I’ll send it out. It’s hard, without a response. But I can’t forget to write.

[bamboo72498]

A Little Piece of Home

This weeks @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt fill. Hope you enjoy!

Prompt: Promise you’ll write

“Alright: I have to go now,” Miyana said, looking up at her daughter. From her perch on the top bunk, Emilia looked so small and scared. It was her first summer away at camp, and Mia was regretting it already. 

“What if I have a bad dream?” Emi asks her.

“Then tell your counselor, she’ll help you.” The mom stood on tiptoe and kissed her baby’s cheek. “You are going to just fine,” she insists. “And Jace is right over there, she’ll look after you,” Mia says, reminding the girl that her older sister was three cabins over.

“Will you write to me? you won’t forget about me?”

“Forget about you? How could I? I’m going to miss you so much, you have no idea. This summer is not going to be the same with you and Jace gone. Abba and I will write you so many letters, I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. I love you,” Miyana says with another kiss. 

“I love you, Ima,” Emilia says, leaning over the railing to hug her mom one last time. 

“Whoa! You’re gonna fall!” Mia says with a laugh, pushing her daughter back onto the bed. 

With one final wave, she turns and leaves the cabin, meeting her husband on the dirt path where he’d come from getting their older daughter settled. 

“How is she?” Byron asks.

“She’ll be okay,” Mia nods, more for her benefit than her daughter’s. She takes his hand and squeezes. 

“Of course she will,” Byron agrees. “She’s going to be having too much fun to miss us. You’ll see. When we come at the end of the month, she’ll be begging us to let her stay longer.”

They follow the flow of parents back to the parking lot and drive back down the long driveway out of camp. 

The next day at lunch, Emilia squeals with glee when her name is called to pick up mail. She excitedly shows off the postcard to all her friends, and reads it aloud of all to hear. 

Emi, Happy first full day of camp! I can’t wait to hear about all the things you do! Have fun! Love, Abba

[wayoftheghost]

black ice

[#FFF180 Promise You’ll Write]

woooo a draining week, but always great to get a writing sprint in! I’ve been thinking a bit lately about new faces blowing up in the entertainment world and how insanely jarring it must be - this is something inspired by that! It felt fun and different to try this, thanks for reading! c:

Word count: 510

Tags: @flashfictionfridayofficial @writingbyricochet​ @helloliriels

Her show debuts on primetime television and everything that follows is a whirlwind of lights, green rooms, and blinding fame.

She hadn’t suspected the show would be such a hit. To have her once humble career now electrified with big name interviews, brand deals, script and project requests. To now be seen by all and so many.

She remembers what her sister, her best friend, had simply asked of her before she’d moved to this sunken city along the Pacific coast, this one that glimmers with promises of high art and cutthroat competition.

“Promise me you’ll write?”

She’d received the text message after reconnecting her phone to cellular service once her plane had touched down. Just a few hours ago, she had been waving goodbye and standing on her childhood suburban street. Now, she was in an unknown city. 

“Of course. Love you”.

The blue bubble had bounced back so quickly, easily with her thumb strokes. That had been nearly a year ago.  

She clicks off her phone’s display as a woman with striking eyes and perfect hair in soft, smoothed curls briefs her on her next press interview. She is to say this, avoid those topics, remember to laugh, but not too loud. It makes her anxious to not be in control of her own image, to know that a single mistake could shatter the illusion. But the fame was a consequence of her work, and she didn’t do all this for notoriety.

As the assistant talks, words buzzing and pointed like honey and wine, she sees the notifications blowing up her phone screen. Emails, likes, text messages flooding in so quickly that the banners can barely keep up. But nothing from the person she really wants to hear from.

At last, the woman exits, but not before telling her she has an hour lunch break until she’s due to the main studio. To make sure to eat something with protein and healthy fat. To take a cat nap if she damn well wants because this was going to be the only break in the day.

Then, with a click of the door she’s gone. 

She snags her phone and pushes out the makeup room and into the warm afternoon air. It’s sunny, bright. Palm trees wave gently. She checks her watch.

It’s still late morning back home. 

Her pulse hammers in her throat and sweat slicks her palms. She’s more nervous than any audition she’s ever had. Her jaw clenches as the line rings.

She hears a click and then the sound of her name. It’s a question, one that is touched by sleep and groggy disbelief. It’s Saturday, after all. 

“I promised I’d write to you, but how about a phone call?”

A tired laugh comes through the other end. There’s some bitterness there, and understandably so. But then the words come trickling forth.

Has she eaten yet today? What was the weather like? Any snow yet this year?

The topics are simple and safe, trivial even. Easy. It helps to crack the black ice between them. 

[onceuponanaromantic]

time and all her eras recede

(written for @flashfictionfridayofficial’s prompt: FFF180 Promise You’ll Write. Enjoy!)

The end begins like this.

She runs out into the street, the great glass doors swinging shut behind her. The sunlight burns the street, the cobblestones bruising beneath the thin soles of her sneakers. Her jacket hangs loose around her shoulders as she runs, rushing to catch up to the spy rounding the corner already.

“Why did you lie?” She demands when she finally catches up. She spins, glaring at the woman, who stops easily, her blazer still unruffled in the afternoon sun and her dark hair pinned neatly at the nape of her neck in a neat bun. She taps one heel, waiting for her to continue. “Back in there. Why. Did you. Lie?”

“What did I lie about?” The woman responds easily, her mellow alto ringing amused as she moves to the side of the street. She had known the woman for long enough to know this was her true voice, as competent as she was in using different registers and taking on different personas. 

She throws her hands in the air. “Everything! After everything, after everything we’ve done and everything, I can’t believe—“ She paused, tears rising in her eyes. “How could you pretend you were responsible for her death?”

“Am I not?” The spy cocks her head, eyes gentle, before she shook her head. “You saw it yourself. Everything was willed to me. Except for—“

“In the case that you were responsible.” She says. “But that’s a legal clause. She would never have thought that you were responsible for her death. She made that choice on her own.” Her voice cracks on the last word.

The spy shrugs. “Does it matter?”

And then it dawns on her. Her eyes widen in horror and terror. “No.” 

She stamps, stepping closer to meet the spy’s eyes. “No. You can’t just— please. You can’t just leave me here. Please you’re— you’re all I have left.”

The spy rests a hand on her shoulder, guiding her into an alleyway. “That’s not quite true, is it?”

She shakes her head frantically, shoving the hand from her shoulder as she reaches up to try and get a hold of the spy. “No. I can’t— You can’t just—“

“I was never meant to stay.” Her voice is still so gentle. “I have things I must do. And so do you.”

She cries. Her sobs shaking themselves free from her lungs as she hugs, clinging onto the spy. “Please— I can’t do this alone.”

“She trusted you with the lab. You have your family. You don’t need me.”

She clings tighter. “But I want you. Here. Stay here.” 

The spy runs a careful hand down her back. “She would be so proud of everything you’ve done.”

It would, in any other situation involving this woman, be humiliating to be clinging to her like this. But as it was, she clung tight, and could not be made to let go for a long while. 

“Promise me you’ll write.” Her voice is hoarse, a whisper between hiccups. “If you get into anything…. Promise me you’ll tell me.”

“I will.” The spy says, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Take care of yourself, child.” 

She doesn’t sleep that night. When dawn comes, she notices the shadow slip away, down the street, taking yet another form.

And when she turns to her side, she sees the letter, handmade, down to the paper and the ink, and the name that she had never gotten through her entire relationship with the spy. 

[polizwrites]

WIP Update - 14 Dec 2022

Had another nicely productive writing week  - I touched 10 fics (4 WIPs & 6 new works) for a total of  2414 words. 

On Ao3, I posted  I posted  an AmeriHawk (Clint/Steve) hookup (fade to black) fic,  a BruceNat ficlet based on their A:AoU farmhouse scene,  a Clint/Thor internal monologue drabble and  an elf!Tony &elf-Steve Christmas fluff teamup.

On Tumblr, I posted a Steve & Bucky post CA:CW ficlet for last week’s Flash Fiction Friday prompt: #FFF180 Promise You’ll Write.

Am up to 15 active WIPs  (with a couple of maybe TBCs)  with my current   deadline being  the  Avengers Bingo, with  Man with a Plan and  Starkbucks and coming in close behind!  

See below cut for the WIPs  (arranged more or less by bingos/challenges/etc) I am working on  -   feel free to send me prompts or plot bunnies as well as asks regarding any of these projects   (or any other WIPs I’ve got out there) – they really help feed the Muse and keep me motivated!

Avengers Bingo [AvB] (Runs thru 24 Dec )

Fourteen fills posted (13 to Ao3)  and 0 WIPs -  Everything is written!!!  I just need to edit and post to get my blackout on this 4x4 card!!! I decided to further challenge myself on this 16-square card by pairing up each square with a unique combo of 2 original MCU Avengers, with the final square being dealers’ choice.  With the help of the STB Enthusiasts Discord folks - I’ve got all 16 squares  planned out, at least in terms of who to write about, and half of them have some sort of idea or crossover square to go along with them. Feel free to toss other plot  bunnies my way…  

* B3 - Road Trip  -  Wrote up and posted  Sailing Toward a New Horizon  to Tumblr.  It’s a Thor & Bruce post-Ragnarok ficlet  that also filled a Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF177 Expand Through Horizons]   Scheduled for Ao3 on 12/19.

* B4 - Age Gap    - Finished up Caught By the Rain and Blinded by the Lightning - a Thor/Tony  post CA:CW  PWP crossing over with TSB One Night Stand. It came in at  1256 words & is scheduled for Ao3 on 12/23. 

* C1 - Opposites Attract - Clint/Thor  - Posted  Nothing Like Him  this morning - an introspective Clint POV drabble.   I really struggled with this one. Last weekend, I wrote about 200 words based on the Tumblr  headcanon going around about a Bumbling Foreigner whose ignorance of  local customs  results in him flirting with/proposing to the prince - but it didn’t jell.   Tried a moodboard, but wasn’t happy with that either.  Finally approached the prompt from a different angle and ended up with what’s linked above.

* D1 - Friends w/ Benefits  - Clint/Steve - posted Aiming for the Stars on Friday - an AmeriHawk post-mission fic where heavy flirting leads to a fade to black hookup. It’s crossing over with my MWAPB Hawkeye/Clint Barton and came in at 720 words.  I may continue it if/when I have the smut spoons.

* D2 - Romeo & Juliet AU  -  wrote up  Two Friend Groups: Alike in Dignity -  Steve (jock) & Tony  (geek) trying out for title roles in R&J - despite their respective friend groups objections/grousing about the other clique. It came in at 327 words and will post on 12/21.

* D3 - Bed Sharing  -  posted Finding Refuge on Ao3 on Monday -  it’s a  Natasha/Bruce fic that is Age of Ultron based (divergent) and also fills the Comfortember Day 16 prompt: Shelter.

Man With a Plan (Steve Rogers) Bingo [MWAPB] (Runs thru 31 Dec)

Fifteen fills, 3 WIPs and several Vague Ideas/potential cross fills with other bingos.  Since the event was pretty much abandoned by its creator (life happens, I get it),  I’m finishing this pretty much out of stubbornness and may carry some squares over for inspiration into the new year.

* I1 - Steve is here for TFAtWS  - I’ve got Passing the Torch pretty much sorted out - a moodboard for this square paired with a ficlet for  my  BBB  “Oh, hell no"  square - Bucky POV (with some extra insider info) of the events where Sam is given Cap’s shield.   It’s scheduled for 12/21 with the fic coming in at 339 words.

* G4 - Canon Divergence post CA:TWS - possible  crossover with BBB  Kill List – Bucky wreaking havoc on Hydra bases and  Steve & Sam catch up with him. Not on my Bingo Attack plan list, so probably won’t get done.

* G5 - Friends to Lovers -  possibly combine this with my BBB Free & Stucky Mutual Pining  square for the Centerfold fic idea I’ve been rolling around = min 950 words if I finish it before this bingo (lower priority)

*  O2 - Sex Pollen  -  A Dusting of Trouble  is pretty much wrapped up - Steve and Bucky get curious when they learn Teenage Groot’s pollen is an aphrodisiac. It crosses over with my SRB  - Groot square, is currently sitting at 505 words, and scheduled for  12/16.   If I’m feeling feisty, I may add another scene/200-ish more words so it crosses over with BBB KINK:Aftercare square  (and goes Stuckony)

* O3 - Hawkeye/Clint Barton  -  see AvB - Friends w/ Benefits  above.

* O5 - FREE - Filling this with one of the following: --  Badges for this bingo based on photos of my Steve Rogers SWC figures - participant, bingo and blackout.  If I have spare time before Friday.   

-- Chapter 1 of   Never Have I Ever (But I’d Like to With You) -  a pining!Steve POV of the team playing NHIE where he manages to get one over on Tony. It’s scheduled for  12/16 and is coming in at 995 words.

StarkBucks Bingo - Round 3  (SBB_R3) - Ends 31 Dec

Thirteen fills (11 posted to Ao3), 3 WIPs and several Vague Ideas - soliciting plot bunnies or other kick-starters.

* B1 - “I wouldn’t mind wasting my time on you.“  - Possible crossover with  BBB - KINK: Seduction Mission?   Not on my Bingo Attack plan list, so probably won’t get done.

* I2 - Mistaken Identity - crossover with TSB K5 - Protectiveness -  “The Mechanic, The Soldier & The Artist” - mob/assassin AU with a Mr. & Mrs. Smith twist?   Not on my Bingo Attack plan list, so probably won’t get done. 

* I3 - “Oh dear.” -  Wrote up a remix ficlet of  Leading Questions - Tony POV on the stressful interview and the immediate aftermath.  It came it at 255 words and is scheduled for 12/21.

* I4 - Canon: Avengers Academy  - will probably do Stuffed Marvels sketches of Tony and Winter, as I know very little about the game/canon.   It’s on my Bingo Attack plan list, but at the bottom, so don’t hold your breath.

* N3 - FREE - Filling this with An Act of Kindness,  a fluffy meet-cute with Tony & Morgan needing a bit of help from the handsome stranger standing in line at the coffee shop.  It’s coming in at 462 words and is scheduled for 12/19. 

* N5 - “Wanna make a bet?”  Used this in combination with the Day 18  Fictober (“I don’t think this is your problem.”)  and Flufftober  (Soulmate AU) prompts for  Marked-Up Soulmarks  - a soulmate AU where Tony discovers he and Steve have something (and someone) in common. I may expand on this before posting it to Ao3 and/or claiming it as an official fill. Currently coming in at 418 words.

* G4 - Pepper Potts -  continue  Open Up Your Heart (And Let the Truth Come Out) - Tony POV?  This is on my Bingo Attack plan list, but at the bottom, so don’t hold your breath. 

* O1 - Royalty - crossover with TSB - IronWidow  &  BBB   AU: Arranged Marriage -  pick Lady Natasha’s Consort and Lord Steve’s Companion  back up - the current chapter is sitting at 595 words and would need to be 800 min to fill all 3 squares.   It may not make this bingo’s deadline, but possibly BBB?    

* O5 - AU: Biker  - Grease 2  fusion  anyone?  😁  I watched the movie a month or so ago and took notes -  It’s not gonna be a faithful adaptation, but hopefully fun - had another mini-brainstorm on this  that led to last Friday’s  No Ordinary Boy ficlet, but that didn’t go far enough into the  story to count toward this square.   Will post this ficlet on 12/26 with the faint hope of getting more done before the deadline, but it’s  not on my Bingo Attack plan list, so don’t hold your breath.!

Hero Hardships Bingo  [HHB]  (Runs thru 31 Dec)

Not really expecting to get anything more done on this card, unfortunately.  😔

* O3 - Dating a civilian -  this would fit perfectly with another chapter of Takin’ What They’re Givin’ (‘Cause I’m Workin’ for a Livin’) , for which I currently have a basic plot point or two rolling around in my head.   I do have about 1000 words on what would be the next chapter of TWTG, so… maybe I’ll whip it into shape and toss it out there? :: shrug::

Bucky Barnes Bingo - Round 4 [BBB_R4] (Runs thru 7 Jan 2023)

Fourteen fills,  four WIPs  & ideas for everything except one square  - Working on a Column B bingo to start.

* B3 - Sam Wilson|Falcon - started a continuation of After One Or Two False Starts   this morning - switching to Bucky POV - currently sitting at 241 words.  Will probably keep it on the short side since am pressed for time - targeting 1/6 to post it. 

* U2 - AU: Roommate  - Still wanting to use the Meet Ugly prompt: 02. I bought a house three months ago but I’m finally moving in and discover you’ve been squatting because you’re homeless    – probably WinterHawk with  recovering!Bucky being the squatter in Clint’s apartment building.  However, this is not on my Bingo Attack plan list, so don’t hold your breath.

* U4 - AU: Arranged Marriage - will probably pick Lady Natasha’s Consort and Lord Steve’s Companion  back up for this one.  See SBB Royalty for details.

* U5 - Kill List -  see MWAP  - G4 - Canon Divergence.  Post CA:TWS above

* C2 - “Oh, hell no” -see MWAP I1 - Steve is here for TFaWS

*C3 - Free - this is still up for grabs - I will probably combine with one of the following SBB squares:  I4 - Canon: Avengers Academy,   G4 - Pepper Potts  or  O5 - AU: Biker

* C4 - KINK: Aftercare -  see MWAP O2 - Sex Pollen

*C5 - “This might as well happen” -  Used this for the Sept BBB Round Robin  (crackfic - Emperor’s New Groove inspired)  wrote 276 words toward it.  Need to get a mod ruling on whether I get to count it or not sometime soon so I have time to try to re-fill it if needed.  

* K1 - Thighs - I have a couple ideas for this…  Sam +Steve+Bucky shenanigans (platonic or romantic - not sure)  Possibly crossover with MWAPB Online Shopping if I can get it done/meet the word minimum (650 for both)

* K3 - KINK: Edging  - working on Hanging By A Moment -   (Bucky POV with toy play and Tony as a power bottom)  crossing over  with  TSB   K3 - KINK: Orgasm Denial/Edging  - - currently 390 words (550 minimum needed)  It’s all plotted out in my head  - I just need to find the time & motivation to finish.

* Y2 - Never the fall that kills you -  this might be the title for a reverse hanahaki WinterIron prompt from @lacrimula-falsa ….   but is not on my Bingo Attack plan list, so don’t hold your breath.

* Y4 - KINK: Seduction Mission - crossover with SBB - B1 - “I wouldn’t mind wasting my time on you.”   Not on my Bingo Attack plan list, so probably won’t get done.

Steve Rogers Bingo - Round 2  (SRB_R2) - Ends 31 Jan

Fourteen fills posted with 1 bingo (Row 3)   & 2 WIPs at the moment   – aiming for 2 or 3 more bingos --  happily accepting plot bunnies! 

* A1 - Never Have I Ever -  see   MWAPB  FREE above.  

* A4 - Touch Attention/Denial  - I have an idea for this that will also fill (heh) my Stucky Bingo  KINK - Double Penetration square.

* B2 - Mile High Club -  This will be the second chapter of Never Have I Ever (But I Want To With You), picking up with Tony’s POV after the events of Chapter One. Rolling some things around in my head, but other projects are taking priority.   Possibly combine with TSB  Tony’s Poor Life Choices ?

* C4 - Groot - crossover with  MWAPB Sex Pollen - see above.

* E2 - Comics Nomad Steve  - SWC sketch of Nomad!Steve

* E4 - Mental Bondage - crossover with TSB KINK: Concubine -  Potential Title My Voice The Chain that Binds You

Tony Stark Bingo - Round 6  (TSB_R6)  [Ends 28 Feb]

Fifteen fills and three WIPs at the moment -    with  Vague Ideas for almost every other square.  

* T1 - One Night Stand - see AvB - B4 - Age Gap

* T2 - Doing Groceries - crossover with MWAP B3 - Farmer’s Market  - if I can bang out a  drabble/moodboard in time, otherwise will find something else to do with this.

* T3 - Pepper Potts/Rescue -  some sort of remix of/inspired by sabrecmc’s  Indecent Proposal  from Pepper’s POV.  At this point, I think I need to re-read the fic & take notes …  

* T4 - KINK: Concubine - see   SRB  E4 - Mental Bondage?  

*A5 - Scott Lang  - 27dragons shared an interesting plot bunny during the Sept TSB Discord party that I may end up using; that or a follow up to A Piece of the Action

* R1 - Tony’s Poor Life Choices - see SRB Mile High Club above.  

* R2 - IronWidow -  next chapter of Lady Natasha’s Consort and Lord Steve’s Companion ?  see  SBB Royalty above

* R4 - Occupational Hazard -  posted  I Make Toys (But I’ve Got Aspirations) this morning - it’s a  ficlet where Tony & Steve are Santa’s elves  who hatch a plan to help kids who need something more than toys for Christmas and came in at 351 words.

* K2 - Secret Admirer -  carried this over from last round so I could try my hand a remix of Seeds of Love  (WinterIron hanahaki fic by the super-talented @hddnone).  Potential title:  Wraps Around My Heart, Refusing to Unwind

* K3 - KINK: Orgasm Denial/Edging -  see BBB KINK: Edging 

Stucky Bingo Round Four [SB_R4] (Ends 31 May 2023

Seven fills and one WIPs with a couple of other vague ideas.

* B1 - Mutual Pining - possible crossover with MWAPB - Friends to Lovers

* B4 - Artist/Muse - posted  A Work of Heart to Tumblr  on 10/29.  It came in at  at 650 words and filled Day 29 of   Fictober (”You love this, don’t you?”) , Flufftober (Leaves) and Whumptober (”Better me than you.”)  Coming to Ao3 on 12/28

* B5 - KINK: Double Penetration - see SRB   Touch Attention/Denial  above.

* O4 - AU: Supernatural - got inspired by a dream to start a Stucky fantasy AU (magician!Steve/ensorcelled!Bucky) that @bill-longbow  is collaborating on with me.  This was supposed to fill my Man with a Plan Bingo Soulmates square, but I ran out of time on that bingo.   We’re currently sitting at 1640 words  (984-ish of which are mine).   Will probably continue on this sometime in January.   Current Last Line:  "My men will accompany you back to Brookline in the morning.”

I also adopted the Writing Format: Remix one of your fics  square  – am thinking of taking one of my Stony or WinterIron  No Powers fics and adapting it to a Stucky pairing – if you have any requests - hit me up!  

WinterIron - No Powers AU  –  Stony No Powers AU

————

On other creative fronts:  I have a Sventoonie figure in progress -  still working on the figures for my three Marvel Trumps Hate  auction winners (3 of 7 done so far) – thanks so much for your generous support!!  Finally, I am prepping for a superhero con in March - so am pretty well booked up through at least the end of the year.

That said, if you’re looking for one of a kind gifts for birthdays or other celebrations in 2023, check  out Stuffed With Character   over on Facebook for a full list of my designs (now over 80!).   They’re  mostly Marvel and monsters, but I have some Star Wars, Star Trek, DC   and Disney figures as well. Plus I love to take custom design  requests  for any fandom!

[polizwrites]

A Written Promise

Bucky critiques Steve's letter to Tony before Steve spends a sleepless night reflecting on everything he's lost.

Fandom: MCU/Marvel Pairing: Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Rating: General Tags: Canon compliant, Post Captain America: Civil War, missing scene, grief and mourning

This is a belated fill for the most recent @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt [#FFF180 Promise You'll Write] as well as my @stuckybingo prompt B3 - Legacy.

Bucky sighed and shook his head as he set the letter on the table. “You’re still pretty lousy at apologizing, aren’t you?”

“What am I supposed to say? ‘Sorry I tried to stop you from killing my best friend’?” Steve shot back; he’d done what he’d had to do in the moment. “Here, let me add a postscript: ‘You can keep the shield - I don’t think I want it anymore’.”

A flash of surprise crossed Bucky’s face, but then he set his jaw and with a lop-sided shrug, replied “Suit yourself. But I don’t think this is gonna cut it if you want to make up with Stark.” He tapped the letter for emphasis. “And then there’s this.” Bucky traced a finger over the lines Steve had written about not letting people down and locks being able to be replaced. “You’re as good as telling him that you’re going after Sam and the others here.” Bucky made a frustrated huff. “Probably the minute my back is turned.”

Steve feigned innocence. “And how in the world would I do that, Buck?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “I don’t hear you denying it, punk.” But before their discussion could grow heated, there was a knock on their half-open door.

It was Ayo, with a somber look on her face. “The princess told me to inform you that it is time.”

Steve returned to the suite alone, his soul scraped raw at having Bucky torn away from his side yet again. From across the years, he heard a familiar voice inside his head: “Allow Barnes the dignity of his choice.” Reminded of another loss that was all too fresh, Steve couldn’t hold himself together anymore. He sat in the empty room, put his head in his hands and wept.

The next morning – which didn’t even feel like morning, since Steve had barely slept – one of Shuri’s technicians brought the equipment he’d asked for, including two unassuming, yet powerful cellphones. Each were programmed with the others’ phone number so that no matter where they were in the world, he and Tony could get in touch with one another.

Too heartsick to attempt to rewrite the letter, Steve bundled it and one of the phones - the other slipped securely in his pocket – into a package hastily addressed to the Avengers Compound. He’d get it sent out later - he had something else to take care of first.