#had a paragraph of this wip here from LAST APRIL

[noicevibes]

18+, minors dni. just some quick diluc smut... yanno. :3

“Stay with me.”

He knew it was a long shot. Well, you both did, really. Not a single day could pass that Diluc Ragnvindr wasn’t forcibly holed up in his office to handle the estate’s most private affairs, or had to help in cellars, or return into the bustling city of Mondstadt, or — and of course, you knew about this; anyone with a brain could put two and two together when a tall man with long red hair that carries a Pyro Vision and wields a flaming claymore — taking down Mondstadt’s enemies in the dark cover of night. His work was twenty-four hours a day, eight days a week.

Asking you over to the Dawn Winery to keep him company while he attempted to finish that work was almost too hopeful— four hours, half a novel, and a short nap later that you’re only just stirring from now, you find that he’d gotten through only a third of the stack of paperwork that threatens to teeter off his desk with the slightest disruption to its perfect balance.

“… Diluc,” you call softly, to not startle him. He’d been staring down hard at the handful of papers pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “You should take a break.”

He sighs, his exasperation targeted at the messy spread laid out before him; this, he makes obvious when he sends you a fond, tired smile from across the room. You return it, and rise to seat yourself at the edge of his lounge chair.

“So stubborn.” You extend a hand in his direction. “Come sit with me. I’ll be your pillow.”

“I fear if I do, I won’t end up getting up again,” he says, but he stands anyway, and rounds the desk. “You are a very reliable pillow.”

“Since you won’t let me help you tackle those new contracts, this is the least I can do for the cause.”

“The cause?” he muses, allowing his hands to be scooped up into yours as he stands between your legs.

“Freeing my lover from the evil clutches of productivity.”

Diluc hums. “Perhaps if you sat a little closer to me while I worked, I’d be more motivated to work harder.”

Harder than you already are? your thoughts nearly have you frowning. To hide your concern, you press your lips into his scarred knuckles.

“I think I might provide the opposite effect of what you’re expecting,” you murmur into them. Diluc frees a hand from yours and rests it atop your head. “How am I supposed to keep my hands off of you when you look just so very handsome sitting at your desk, working so diligently…”

Diluc huffs, and suddenly averts his gaze from on you to the wall-encompassing bookcases.

“… you don’t even have to be in front of me to have an affect on me.” You swallow, cheeks warming.

“Then I should return so you can focus properly,” you reason. His head snaps down toward to you.

“Now that might have the opposite effect.” You raise an eyebrow, lifted higher when Diluc’s hands rise to cup your cheeks. “Stay with me,” he whispers. Gently, he knocks your knees together with his own, and steps forward to kneel over you. “Stay with me.”

He lowers his head, touching his lips to the corner of yours. You squirm, suddenly restless beneath him, and raise your chin to meet his kiss properly. What is once soft and tender morphs quickly into something fervent and intoxicating, the tongue prodding the dark reaches within your mouth leaving you breathlessly dizzied and clinging to the lapels of his jacket to steady yourself.

Your gasp of air when you part is sharp, buzzing; Diluc smiles, and presses his wet mouth against the curve where your neck and shoulder meets.

"Stay with me," he repeats, a heaved whisper weaved within his own panting. Your hands skim up past his biceps, pulling him closer to you with your fingers laced together behind his head, and his own lower to caress and soothe your trembling limbs, your fluttering stomach, your keening pelvis, to slide your long skirt and bloomers down past your knees.

"Stay... with me." Knees kissing the ground, he dives further into you, tongue languidly lapping at the bundle of nerves between your folds, a reflection of his exhaustion; somehow, his dedication to make you come in his mouth surpasses any desire to slow down or to rest, nor to dare to leave you unsatisfied, and the thighs easily trapped beneath his carved musculature as you whine and writhe your pleasure away.

Breaths heavy and gazes lidded, you look to each other. Fingers intertwine between your chests, and his other hand cradles your cheek as he shares your bounty with your lips.

“Stay,” he murmurs against them, but you’re already nodding, “with me.”

© noicevibes 2025

please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

[thestorieswesay]

Hi hi! For the writer's game:

4, 5, 7, 12, 19, 29! (If someone hit any of those before me, pick ones you want to answer instead!)

a story idea you haven’t written yet

I've been working since January on an idea I have, based on a dream I had in... September? I think? Of last year. The fic is called 'Aubade' and is a post-apocalyptic Sanctuary fic set 300 years after a nuclear war between humans and Afina's Court, featuring Nikola taking care of Helen, who has contracted a deadly disease. The story takes place at their home in what used to be the London Sanctuary and also in the wilds of what once was Avignon, where he hopes to find Helen a cure. (However, nothing is that easy or that simple). I have copious amounts of notes and a playlist just for this fic. Last week, while driving to my doctor's appointment in another city, I broke through the writer's block I've had towards starting the fic for the first time in five months. I wrote the first and last sentence of two scenes and played with some ideas for the first section as I drove. I solved the problem I had about info-dumping and I think it's going to work!

first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

I started this Sanctuary fic during Whumptober last year and the document is titled 'priest kink' but the story is actually named 'Your Ecclesiastic Skin'. It is about wicked!Helen and her Boys plotting to corrupt Nikola at Oxford, except in this universe, Nikola is a young Eastern Orthodox priest:

"And yet, it is not nearly enough for Helen Magnus."

a WIP you’d like to finish someday

I answered the question about fonts here, so I'm choosing #11!

I started a Stargate Universe fic called 'something we left' back in April of 2021, and it's so close to being finished. It is about Telford and Rush, before Icarus, offworld on an unnamed planet for some training exercises where they are kidnapped by aliens in order to observe human 'mating habits'. The aliens thought Rush was a female and Telford a male, but being half-right isn't going to stop them from getting their show!

2,800+ words and I just need to finish the sex scene and write the aftermath, rip. Does anyone care about this? Probably not, lol. But the dream persists.

share a fic you’re especially proud of

I answered the question about tropes here, so I'm choosing #30!

Edit: It helps if I actually answer the question tho!

My personal favorite from last year is 'never found the answer (but we knew one thing)', aka the 'Nikola is trapped in Carentan instead of Will: the Fic'... (And thank you so much again for the moodboard you made for the story! No one has ever made me a moodboard before!) It's a story about blood, bread, and love that's shown with both.

the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

For my Stargate Universe fic, 'Humane', I had to write Rush solving a complex mathematical equation called The Ninth Chevron. Now, in canon, Rush fails at this, solving Chevrons 1-8, because the solution to 9 is actually really stupid (so stupid the idiot savant everyman character is the only one who can do it, using logic that's been part of the franchise since the 1994 movie, but no one in the third television series of the franchise thinks to do it so whatever). But in 'Humane', I needed Rush to be able to solve the entire equation, Chevrons 1-9, on his own. But I the problem is, 1-8 are never explained or shown, so we don't even know how that's supposed to work. Plus, Rush is said to have solved them using cryptography, and I have dyscalculia.

I spent probably three or four days alone, just reading about cryptography, about how the chevron system of Gate-dialing works in the Stargate franchise, and what each of the chevrons does and what they're for. The Science Fiction and Fantasy Stack Exchange was unbelievably valuable in this quest. I discovered eventually that the 9th Chevron is special in terms of the Gate-dialing network, because, unlike Chevrons 1-7, which represent locations in a certain galaxy and the 8th is 'distance', equaling an extra jump to something beyond our galaxy, the 9th Chevron is 'velocity' because what it leads to is not a stationary object. I found it fascinating.

how easy is it for you to come up with titles?

I love making titles for things. Like I said in another one of these answers, I have been using miniscule titles and 'title of the fic (secondary title)' since my very first published fic back when I was 13 in 1998. (The fic was a Highlander: The Series fic called 'fire in the sky (lightening in the blood)'). Most of my titles come from song lyrics, and that song is usually whatever I've used for pull-quotes and have been listening to on loop while writing. Since I'm always listening to music, there's always something I can pull from.

The problem comes when I write a series, like with my series the secret language, where there are three stories (and one is multi-chaptered) and each title comes from the same song (in this case, Taylor Swift's "Illicit Affairs"). I still don't know what to call the final, bonus chapter that will be the last section of the last fic. Maybe just 'illicit affairs', rip.

[palfriendpatine66]

I worked really hard to make sure there were no repeat questions so:

5 9 26 and 31: is there a particular genre, trope, or kink you think you would like to try writing one day even if you have no concrete plans or ideas?

From this ask game

I super appreciate and applaud your efforts 🫡

5 first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

With no further explanation but a million bonus points if you guess the wip:

Some of the light in his eyes dimmed and she realized she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen them so alive.

9. start to finish, how long did it take you to write the last fic you posted?

I actually know this, although it’s not typical for me at all. I wrote my submission to the Best/Worst Smut challenge, You asked for it, super last minute. I’m talking I started around 3pm on April Fools Day, and submitted it around 10pm. I was writing a couple sentences at a time, a few stolen minutes here and there, throughout the afternoon and evening and then was able to concentrate and wrap it up and post it in the last hour and a half.

Usually I feel like it’s normal for me to write in chunks of maybe 500-800 words at a time. I used to be writing that much every morning. Now I’m lucky if I manage that much all week, or maybe even every couple of weeks.

26. are you able to write with other people around?

No! And that actually really bothers me because I used to be a multitask champ, writing fic while the kiddos were content to play independently or had movie time, when things were quiet and slow at work, or even waiting for baseball practice to end. Now I find I can’t write unless I’m by myself with nothing else going on, in complete silence.

31. is there a particular genre, trope, or kink you think you would like to try writing one day even if you have no concrete plans or ideas?

This is SUCH a good question! Kudos to you for going for it with your own!!

I’ve been itching to do a cheating fic for a while but I don’t know that I would be able to do it (I have a hard time making Obi-Wan be bad, as much as I love to read it).

Ditto for Sith Obi-Wan.

In general I read a lot of kink but don’t feel comfortable writing it. In theory I’d like to challenge myself there a little bit, but don’t really see it happening in practice.

All the kudos for you for the time and effort that went into this ask. You deserve something in return. Got a wip you want a snippet of? Name it, it’s yours. (Look for it tomorrow lol)

[book-of-baba-fett]

coming in as @eternal-transcience because i saw the promo thing, and I'm awful at doing promos, but I'm sending in a smol section of wip of something I jut started, something I've been working on for a while, and a small paragraph of a fic I've finished in the last month and a fic I finished in January (everything's OC related because i've get canon x reader burnout):

Love Letter (new wip), Rexonia:

He'd carry her happily if her hamstrings gave out. The boys that knew teased Rex for it: any excuse to hold her close. Maybe they were right. But if they had someone they loved half as much as he loved her, he was sure they'd take any excuse they could, too.  War could take away any hour. 

Srg Sevens x Reader (older wip, one of my clone OCs before he joins the 210th)

Your hand playfully came into contact with his shoulder, which hurt you more than it ever touched him through the plastoid.  “If you can still flirt, there's nothing wrong with you.” “If I was bleeding out, I'd still tell you I love you. Nothin’ truer than my love for you. Thorn knows it. The men under my care know it. Even Commander Fox knows it.”

To Be or Not To Be (Jango x Ko'saam, posted 1st April)

She stepped back enough to have another sip of her drink before giving the rest to Boba, who she held the shoulder of to encourage him back inside. “Interrupt my lesson and enable misbehaviour, I'm kicking you out the room though.” “What if I took your charges?”  “Don't you even think about it.” His tone said he was innocent, and the unknowing would have thought he looked it. But beneath the façade of pure charm was a mischievous Fett. And she was not going to fall for it the third time running.

M.I.A Ch 4 (Rexonia, posted 11th Nov 23, edited 1st Jan '24)

“Commander,” Rex spoke into his comm, “do you copy?” “Loud and Clear.” Rex could vaguely hear the sound of a lightsaber and he took Peonia’s hand to ease her mind in case she heard as she recovered from her ordeal. “I’ve had to put my helmet on Peonia to give her oxygen. I don’t know how long it will be until she’s critical.” “Fives and Achilles should be at your location in less than five minutes. I’ve asked Dusckie to get the bomb squad prepped and one of the LAATs down here ready for extraction prep. Hold on tight in there, alright?” “Yes, Sir.” He heard then, the sound of Clankers in the vents. Rex looked back at Nia, settling her into a better position before reaching for his DC17s, searching through his visor for her eyes. “You’re going to make it, Nia.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I promise.”

Writer Promo #2

Hi Kim!!! Thank you so much for sending this in - I've seen your Rexonia blurbs and I just love their pairing. I can tell the love and care you put into your work, and the passion you have for it. All of these are getting added to my 'read later' tab because they all sound so good!

[wanderingaldecaldo]

Find the Word/Manuscript Search Tag

Tagged by @setaflow (wait, wind, teeth, hope) and @fly-amanitaa (safe, breathe, regret, light) -- thank you both! This one looked like a lot of fun so I'm excited to give it a go! I'm using my three most recent WIPs -- the corpo AU longfic, and two PWPs that are based on prompts I received in April -- one will be the next in the Streetkid Val series, and one is post corpo AU longfic.

Results and tags after the cut bc it got long 😂

wait

This is from the corpo AU longfic, and the clear winner -- three times in three paragraphs lmao

[Mitch] steps into the apartment, again feeling out of place. He decides to take her up on the offer and orders a coffee from the vending machine, then pulls out a stool at the bar and waits. The quality of the coffee disappoints him—bitter and burnt—but then he’s been spoiled by camp coffee his whole adult life.

He glances around the penthouse as he waits. It looks the same as it did before, everything in perfect place. He wonders if she even lives here because the place feels sterile. He’s not sure he’s seen anything that looks remotely like her.

A set of matching suitcases wait by the elevator—four of them, matte black with shiny silver accents, two large and two smaller.

wind

This was an interesting one because of the homonyms, and I had "wind" as in twisting, but I was hoping for "wind" as air current, and I found one in the corpo longfic!

Her eyes crinkle as the smile returns and his breath quickens, and as an excuse to look away he digs his cigarettes from his pockets. He leans back on the couch and exhales smoke at the tent ceiling. She makes no moves to fill the silence and he’s thankful. They’ve sat in silence plenty on her visits to camp, and he always finds it welcome; hardly a moment’s peace around camp, and he appreciates the break from chatter. 

His chest aches as his thoughts turn to the first time they sat like this, when she stayed behind on the bridge despite his wishes to the contrary. He’d wanted solitude for his sorrow, but then she grabbed a chair and sat there beside him, nothing between them but the tinkle of glass and slosh of beer and the wind.

teeth

Ohhh it was hard to pick one because, yeah... but I was good 😏 Also from the corpo longfic

“If that’s what it takes to get you in a suit,” she says and gives him another full smile. 

His stomach twists and his cheeks warm and he looks away. He’d thought he was over that little crush he’d developed after Scorp died, but after the last half hour he’s no longer sure. Suddenly spending a month with her in a hotel room seems like a questionable decision.

“Uh, something I should probably ask first. We’ll have two beds, right?”

“What, you don’t wanna snuggle? I’m a good snuggler,” she says, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she grins at him. Cheeks burning hotter, he shakes his head and scoffs though he can’t stop his mouth from curving up. “Yes, we’ll have two beds. Already talked to my contact about some of the detes and a two bedroom suite is a firm requirement for me taking the contract.”

hope

...and another from the corpo longfic.

The boxing match quiets and the chair wheels squeak as Vik rolls over on it. “How ya feeling, kid?”

Mitch guffaws. “Kid? Been a minute since anyone called me that. Don’t think you have that many years on me.”

Vik laughs, a rich sound that fills the room. “Know I do, Mitch. You forget, I got your medical records right here. Had hair on my balls before you were born.”

“Heh, hope to look as good at your age,” he answers without thinking. Vik blushes, and Mitch does too, and he quickly changes the subject. “’m feeling okay, just a bit of a headache, some nausea.”

safe

Heyyyy from something else! This is from the "rough or gentle" prompt which ofc turned into something angsty bc that's just how things are with Streetkid Val 😬

“C’mon, city girl. Not gonna kill you.”

Normally when he calls her “city girl” she loves it; beyond just another term of affection, something about the way he says it makes her tremble. But this time, it feels like an insult rather than affection so she scowls and crosses her arms.

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s from deep underground, away from any ground pollution. Had a well on the farm; grew up drinking the stuff. Promise it’s safe. ’Sides, they test it regularly.”

breathe

Another from corpo longfic. I promise I'm searching the others first lol this one just has a higher chance since it's 30-120x the words of the other two lmao

She nods again, then jerks her chin at him. “Can I get one of those?”

“’Course.”

He pulls out the pack and taps one out for her to take. Just as he reaches out with the lighter intent on passing it to her, she leans forward, cigarette between her fingers and poised at her ruby lips, and her emerald eyes flick to his. He works on autopilot, leaning forward with the lighter, cupping the flame with his silicone fingers and he forgets to breathe when her fingers linger on his. She flicks her eyes back up to him once more and the air whooshes out of his lungs as if he’s been hit by a freight train, or jumped into the farm pond on a sunny March day.

regret

Yep, another one that only showed up in the longfic...

The door to the backroom slides open at her approach. Nix’s office is dark, but he doesn’t usually show until afternoon anyway. Once inside the quiet of her office, she drops into the chair with a heavy sigh. She tabs through pages of email but nothing catches her interest. She leans back in her chair, puffing her cheeks as she blows out a long breath. She drags her eyes down from the ceiling, landing on Scorpion’s action figure.

In a flash she’s standing, figure in hand, breath tight in her chest. She wants to crush it, destroy it and the memories of the last few weeks, but she knows she will regret it—not today, today she would feel relief but one day when her feelings have settled she will think back to that day on the bridge and feel sorrow at having destroyed the memento of lost friendship, no matter what passed since. Instead of throwing it in the incinerator she shoves it in a drawer, hidden behind decades worth of paperwork she’s never read.

light

...and why not wrap things up with one more from the longfic lol

The cool air feels delicious on his face, flushed as it is from the alcohol and her incessant flirting. The attention makes him feel a decade younger, at least. He pulls away from her to light a cigarette and offers the pack. When she accepts he holds out the lighter and holds his breath, hoping for an errant touch of her hand. She obliges, holding the cigarette in her right hand and placing the left on the skin of his wrist as she leans in. Her eyes flicker up to his, and her fingers linger a fraction of a second too long and his skin tingles. Suddenly he remembers the cartoons he used to watch with his mom, how the tricked coyote would speed off the cliff without realizing it, and only after looking down would gravity take hold, leaving the coyote to plummet to the ground far below.

Tagging with zero pressure/sorry if you got tagged already... @impishbiscuit @schoute @oranzuwu @elvenbeard @chessalein @morganlefaye79 @theviridianbunny @corphoe and anyone else sees this and wants to play (and tag me if you do!!) I give you the words:

alarm, calm, hold, water

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

finally put together my answers for ficwip’s 2024 in review questions! idk why i took so long, did i think i was gonna get another fic posted in 2024? well, maybe.

How many fics have you worked on since January? now that is hard to answer. do we count two sentence snippets that have yet to meaningfully go anywhere? just stories that got titles, or placeholder titles? ehhh, i’m gonna split the difference. fourteen 911 fics (one posted), twenty-three one piece fics (ten posted), one mob psycho 100 fic.

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? i’ve joked about this too many times to count, but it’s only funny because it’s true: actually writing a make out scene instead of fading to black.

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.) *looks up at #1* uh, yeah, one piece and the clown pirate-adjacent parts of that series in particular.

How many fandoms did you write for this year? three; i poked at some wips from past years, but the mp100 one is the only one i made real progress on. everything else was new this year.

What ships captured your heart? 🤡🍶 and 🚒🚁

What characters captured your heart? 🤡 and 🚁, though their partners were never far from my mind.

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year? yeah, i had paid absolutely zero attention to 911 fandom before i caught wind of the bisexual realization storyline in april.

What fic meant the most to you to write? i know i’ve kissed you before, but i didn’t do it right—the second-longest thing i’ve ever written, and in writing it i wrote the story i’d been wanting to read (more or less) since my interest in shuggy first hit. it was a ton of fun to write and got me talking to a lot of fantastic, enthusiastic buggy fans here on tumblr.

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on? something blue. very easy to write, fast to write, fun to write, and also fun to edit to the word count i wanted. (four parts exactly 500 words, one part 25 words, and one part 1,000 words.)

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing? i know i’ve kissed you before. it took forever and a day to get that last part done, but those last few paragraphs were so satisfying to get down on paper.

What fic was the most difficult to write? home (the gilded lily remix). the fic it was a remix of had so much visual symbolism built in that i wanted to parallel, but including it without being obvious about it was a struggle. that final visual was a last minute addition to the fic that i think really made it, and before i figured that out i was stressed about how incomplete things felt.

What fic was the easiest to write? [angry clown noises], no question. ask box fic gets written when the fic is easier to write than the equivalent meta, and this one just rolled out of me.

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year? well, longest is obviously i know i’ve kissed you before, at a bit under 35,000 words. shortest turns out to be inferiority “complex?” i find it quite simple at about 350 words, a silly little bit of young celestial dragon!shanks ask box fic.

What were your go-to writing songs? i don’t really listen to music while writing—lyrics tend to distract me—but as far as inspiration goes, i gotta go with mitski’s pink in the night. title inspo for two or three fics this year!

What was the hardest fic to title? i went back and forth on half a dozen options for the parenthetical part of home—i’m a traditionalist when it comes to titling remixes, i gotta have a “the x remix” parenthetical in there. i knew i was switching the title from “house” to “home,” but i could not decide how best to indicate what this fic was focusing on. something about gender? suppressed rage? suppressed despair? eventually i decided to go with the concept of a gilded lily: a beautiful living thing given excessive adornment that will ultimately kill it.

What's your favorite title of the year? i think charm/offensive is a pretty decent piece of wordplay titling (my favorite kind). there’s the concept of a charm offensive (using your charm to get what you want), and the fact that shanks is both charming and offensive to buggy over the course of this short fic.

Share your favorite opening line this is more a favorite opening/ending pair, because i think very neatly sums up the whole point of something blue in two sentences: “You should come with me.” “I never was any good at saying no to you and meaning it.”

Share your favorite ending line not particularly fancy writing, but as a conclusion to the arc buggy went through during i know i’ve kissed you before i think this line is very effective: Over his shoulder, he promised, “Until next time, Red-Hair!”

Share your favorite piece of dialogue ooh, hard to pick! i think i have to go with this bit from the end of something blue: “I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I asked you to marry me before.” Buggy rolled his eyes more emphatically. “Not literally the same question, dumbass. But you’ve always been asking me to be with you, ever since that first day.”

Share your funniest line ugh, what is humor? have i ever written anything funny? suddenly i don’t know. i guess the end of [angry clown noises]: Shanks gives Beckman an intent look, a bright flush high in his cheeks. “Yes literally.” After a moment, Beckman puts it together. He buries his head in his hands. “Oh my god.”

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story? i didn’t know if i know i’ve kissed you before!buggy was actually going to sleep with shanks until i got to the scene where he talked it through with galdino. that didn’t meaningfully change the ending of the fic, but it made it a lot easier for them to have the sad topics conversation that i had vaguely intended to get to before buggy left the ship.

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand? scrivener my beloved!! it’s so nice to be able to write without wifi and have confidence that what i’ve written is safe. i have so many blank notebooks in my life, i really should write more by hand, but my thoughts move so much faster than i can handwrite that i lose track of where i am in the scene and my motivation gets snuffed out. once, my phone died while i was waiting to meet with my aunt for lunch, and i was bored enough that i went into a barnes & nobles, bought a tiny notebook and a tiny pen, and wrote five or ten pages of fluff set sometime in the future of clash of the four emperors, but that’s all i handwrote this year iirc.

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year? finishing i know i’ve kissed you before, no question.

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic? i feel like i must have, but i can’t remember the specifics. :/ i think i might’ve treated myself to a nice dinner after i know i’ve kissed you before was done?

How did you recharge between fics? with great difficulty, lmao. seriously, though? reading well-regarded published fiction. highlights from this year include sabriel, leguin’s earthsea trilogy, and clive barker’s short stories. reading short stories in particular is a great way to get me thinking about style, in a way that feels less mean than reading mediocre fic and thinking, “oh, i wouldn’t have done that, i’d’ve worded that sentence this way to get this effect.” when i catch myself reading fic like that, i know it’s time to get some original fiction in me.

Did you create fanworks other than fic? mm, technically yes? i record myself reading fics on occasion, a very unpolished kind of podfic, but i haven’t published podfic in a decade, i wouldn’t know how to do it anymore.

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!) two, if i remember correctly. the @op-fanwork-exchange and their summer remix. both a fun time!

If this were an awards show, who would you thank? my sister for her occasional occupation as my beta reader and/or vent receptacle alpha reader and @midydoof, my constant collaborator and inspiration. 💜

What's left on your to-do list for 2024? *blows raspberry*

What would you like to write next year? where do i start? shuggy bodyswap, [redacted] for mids, this bucktommy angstfest, at least one other thing teased during my birthday countdown back in july… and, of course, the fic tentatively titled guess i’m a coward (i just want to feel alright). shanks pov has to stop feeling like pulling teeth eventually, right?

[uniformbravo]

it's nanowrimo & i havent touched my wip since last year so im gonna reread it all rn to jog my memory lets goooo

-

"And so, class, as you can see, blah blah blah…"

Silan wasn't listening, so neither should you have to.

i didn't know how to start it skjfdkngkf

-

goes on for several paragraphs about why he wasnt paying attention, making up a bunch of bullshit about him being sooooo sleeby bc he watched a horror movie last night & then couldn't sleep, fascinating stuff

-

So no, he wasn't listening to the lesson going on at the front of the room, nor was he prepared in the very least to be called on suddenly.

"Silan, what's your answer to number fifteen?"

Like a bucket of ice water was sitting upright on the ground beside him instead of upturned over his head, Silan's brain fog persisted as he struggled to catch up with the moment.

ok fine the ice bucket line is kinda funny im here to subvert ur expectations not unlike a mime thats allowed to say fuck

-

"Y equals seven…?" he guessed, understanding completely as he said it that it definitely would have been better to just say "I don't know," or "Could you repeat that?" or even "Sorry, I didn't sleep well because I watched a horror movie before bed and was too scared to fall asleep for hours and now I can't focus because I'm so tired, so I honestly have no idea what's going on right now."

As it was, his actual answer garnered a few laughs scattered around the room, from people who'd given Silan way too much credit and assumed it was a very intentional joke. He couldn't look his teacher in the eye, that knowing gaze piercing right through him as if to say, "You may have fooled them, but not me. I know that was a real attempt at an answer, and I am disappointed in you on multiple levels. I'll see you in my office and also you have detention forever."

What he actually said was, "Mr. Scott, this is a Biology class."

CHRIST i take it back im a comedic genius

-

Chris is A Dude in Silan's class, but he's so much more than that; sports ball player man, wearer of varsity jackets and knee-length shorts of all varieties, copier of his friends' homework whenever one of them has actually done it on time… He truly is just Some Guy, but to Silan? He is The Guy.

WHAT are u fuckin TALKING ABOUT HELLO

-

If Silan himself were to be the one to describe Chris, that paragraph would have probably gone a lot more like: Chris is on the baseball team, so he's fairly muscular; he has a sharp, square jaw and dark brown hair that's not quite long enough to submit to gravity just yet, so it sticks up and looks just sooo fluffy and soft (do you think he lets anyone touch it?). He's never actually grown a beard but he does have stubble across his chin and jaw that suits him extremely well. His eyes are brown and his skin is a natural tan and it all suits him perfectly and he's hot okay. He's hot.

Silan is gay.

and he is being sooo normal about chris

-

They'd only ever spoken a total of two times; once when Chris had gotten the rows confused on a day he'd seemed particularly groggy (this class ran from 10:45 to 12:15 and was the one right before lunch, though, so it was beyond Silan what exactly had put him in such a state) ((I'm the author though, so I know exactly what it was, and it's that he'd been out nearly all night with his friends to the subsequent dismay and rage of his parents, and his request to stay home from school the next day was vehemently denied)),

this is fucking unhinged. publish me right now

-

That had been just a few weeks ago; the other time was last year (junior year, or 11th grade, or year 3 out of 4 of high school, whatever makes the most sense to those unacquainted with the American school system) in April and I will tell you more about it later.

FUCKING HELLO

-

It was the urge to doodle their initials in a heart together in the margins of his notebook like… like some kind of lovesick middle schooler (not that. He'd ever done that. In middle school,).

silan would never

-

The combination made him want to launch himself directly out the window, had one existed (the only windows were over by the door, which Silan sat pretty much across the room from).

He was kinda fucked.

tfw u cant throw urself out the window bc of ur school's evil fucked up floor plan

-

Rhoden, while still fairly small for his age, definitely isn't the same kid Silan met back then. There's a maturity to his jaw, his brow, that he's really come into since, and his voice has deepened considerably; anyone who might still initially mistake him for a much younger boy would be instantly enlightened the second he opened his mouth. And then they'd have to figure out how to politely decline a spontaneous interview proposal from a guy they'd thought was twelve two seconds ago.

when u get within a certain radius of him a giant health bar appears at the top of the screen & boss music starts playing

-

Today, though, was a photography day.

They were always Silan's favorites. He did enjoy his other tasks, in general, but none of them were as fun or freeing as photography.

It made him look at the world around him differently. Taking such a wide expanse of possibility and narrowing it down to that one perfect shot; knowing where to look and how to find potential. It was capturing a moment, but not just that; it was turning a moment, even the smallest, mundanest occurrence, into something timeless- into something special.

(And, of course, there were other perks to the job, but we'll get to those later.)

i am 100% certain said "perks" are getting to Observe chris at baseball practice which is a very funny juxtaposition to the previous paragraph

"photography is a timeless art form, truly nothing as magical or poignant could ever exist.... also i get to look at hot boys cha-CHING"

-

"Silan," she called out now in lieu of a team name, since the work of a photographer was mostly individual.

"I'm, uh, shooting baseball practice today."

😏

-

A few short minutes later, Silan was signing off for the club's camera, which he needed permission for every time. This was one of Mrs. Springet's few roles as an advisor, to make sure the camera wasn't being stolen. It was a nice camera, to be fair.

Oh To Steal The Journalism Club's Nice Camera

-

While Chaulden High did have a football team, the undisputed star of the show was the baseball team; with a coach that led them to victory time and time again, it wasn't hard to see why.

As such, the New Moon always made sure to leave room for a section on the team, even going as far as establishing a series they ran every year called "Dug-Ins & Outs," in which various members of the team were interviewed.

ok still proud of that title TBH

-

Which meant Silan was often sent to obtain shots of the team, which was no problem. Less than no problem. He was pretty fine with it, actually. Perhaps even looked forward to it, some might say.

Because Silan was definitely interested in the team, as a whole, all twenty-six members. All of them, and not a single one more than the rest. He would never single a specific member out to accidentally focus 90% of his attention on. That would be ridiculous, and highly unprofessional of him. Perish the thought.

…

So uh. Chris is on the baseball team,

cups hands around mouth fucken NERD

-

The coach, Mr. Wendell, stood with a clipboard tucked under his arm by the dugout, clapping and calling out to members who were lagging behind in the group of joggers. He always made Silan nervous, if he were honest. He was something of a hardass, with high expectations for his team and a grueling training regimen he held them all to. He had a loud voice and a firm handshake, was broad shouldered and tall, and if Silan weren't so intimidated by him he might even find him [REDACTED].

OK ALRIGHT CALM DOWN THERE BUDDY

-

CRASH!

Just as he clicked the shutter the chain-link fence behind him exploded into sound and he jumped violently, sending all of the birds flying. Heart pounding, he sat up and turned around to figure out what the hell that was.

On the other side of the fence was one of the team members leaning down to scoop up the offending ball as the coach's voice echoed across the field, "Stop fucking around, Neely!"

fucking Neely

-

It took him a good five or six more minutes to calm down, sitting there in the grass and pretending to flip through photos on his camera. This time he made sure to face the fence to avoid a repeat scenario- because of course, Silan was known to have the reflexes of a tiger and wouldn't even flinch were another ball to come hurling at the fence.

jotting this down in my Extremely True Silan Facts notebook

-

He sat on the very top row and zoomed in on the players, scattered across the field. The fence still sat between him and the rest of them, reaching high for maximum audience-shielding ability, so he decided to see how many of the players' heads he could frame perfectly within the open links in a single shot.

His average came out to about four, mostly because it was basically impossible to keep track of any more than that at once, but he did manage to get one with six on accident, so that was pretty neat. It didn't help that they were all constantly moving around- Silan probably would have had more luck trying this with the birds.

He spent about another twenty minutes doing this, occasionally moving to other parts of the bleachers for different angles to see if they made any difference (they didn't; the lower he went the wider the holes got but also the closer together the player's heads became, so it balanced out), before the main event, as far as he was concerned, finally began: batting.

silan: boy oh boy i can't wait to take pictures of the baseball team!!!

also silan: does this bullshit

-

Everyone knew baseball players looked coolest and most iconic when at bat, and anyone who disagreed was simply wrong (second best was pitching, third was sliding). Silan's opinion on this was in no way swayed by visuals of Chris that may or may not have been burned into his memory.

Evidence:

[three pictures of a batter, a pitcher, and a sliding athlete respectively side-by-side, the batter obviously being the coolest most hyped up one with dynamic lighting and stuff, whereas the pitcher and the slider are intentionally lame, like cheap-looking clip art or pictures where they're making really ugly faces]

im gonna lose my fuckin shit (no theres no actual pictures this was just a place holder for when i eventually found & inserted them which i was absolutely planning on doing)

-

He stayed on the other side of the fence, lest a stray ball hit him (or worse, the camera)

TRU

-

He was tall (he had several inches on Silan and a good few on Chris), and he was slender and lean and really quite handsome in general. His thick, curly black hair was neatly shaved close to his head and the corners of his jaw were pleasantly pronounced.

Not that Silan could see any of that from this distance, especially with the helmet obscuring most of it. But as a member of the newspaper club these were things he had to know. For professional reasons.

i believe him

-

He should have been adjusting his position to line up the perfect shot, but it was hard not to watch as Chris rose up on one foot, twisting his torso with his arms raised and clutching the ball- then sprung into action by slamming his foot back down into the dirt and following the momentum with his upper body, arm arcing into a powerful throw. A split second after Silan saw the ball hit the backboard he heard the noise, a loud, solid smack!

God. God.

SCREAMS ALRIGHT SILAN CALM DOWN FKFSKGNKSDJFKD

-

"Make sure you're getting my good side, yeah?" He joked, grinning and striking a stupid pose.

silan watching chris: beautiful. flawless. show stopping. groundbreaking. so so hot and sexy hehehauhaoehemeheuenana

silan watching lucas: clown ass motherfucker striking his goofy ass POSE what an idiot 000/10

-

"Yo," Devon greeted as he pulled himself to his feet, flashing his hand in a pseudo wave.

"H-hi," Silan answered haltingly, heart beating a little fast from the maneuver he'd just had to pull. Devon offered what Silan could only describe as a dashing grin before turning his attention back towards home.

hee hee hee hiiiiiii devonnnn *twirls hair* (silan impression)

-

They rarely talked but Devon had always come off as a nice guy with a friendly vibe. He'd certainly never referred to the newspaper club as Mooners- not that Silan had heard, anyway. Though it wouldn't be such a big deal if he did, since the nickname was pretty widespread at this point. But it was nice that he didn't.

Also, he really was quite handsome.

this would have been a very different story had silan gone for devon instead of chris, devon would NEVER pull the shit chris is about to pull in this story fksndkjfdkjg he doesn't even call them mooners 😭

(school newspaper is called the new moon so people call the club members new mooners, an extremely clever & funny joke that i came up with myself)

-

(ok context, silan was gonna take a pic of chris sliding (the team's doing this whole exercise where they alternate from pitching to hitting to sliding) but bc he was so focused on getting the shot he didn't realize the ball was headed right for him so chris collided w him trying to intercept it)

Silan turned around, seeing the coach standing with his arms crossed as Chris examined his elbow. He looked up when Silan moved.

"Thank Christ. That was stupid as hell, you both could've gotten way more hurt." He hadn't even checked if Silan had been injured. "Jumping over another guy like that. We're not a goddamn gymnastics routine."

"But I caught the ball," Chris grinned, holding it up and waggling it around. Silan immediately had to stop himself from asking if he could have it.

LMAO SILAN???????????? DOWN SO FUCKING BAD

-

As he walked off herding the team away, Chris stepped closer to Silan, instantly setting his heartbeat into overdrive, more than it already was.

"Your shoulder okay?" he asked with a gesture towards the shoulder in question, and Silan just about passed away on the spot.

when he checks if ur ok after he ran u the fuck over 😍😍😍

-

Then he looked to the left, in the direction Chris had tossed the ball just a minute ago, at the spot in the grass it had rolled to a stop.

The backboard of the catcher's box announced another missed swing, and Silan picked up the ball, examining it.

The object that had ruined his perfect shot. That had come careening directly towards Silan's head (or worse, the camera). That had resulted in the disastrous collision and subsequent injuries of Chris and Silan. That had wasted precious minutes of Coach Wendell's perfectly scheduled practice regimen.

He tucked it neatly away into his hoodie's front pocket and took a seat on the grass right where it had been.

STOLE THE FUCKING BASEBALL this is unhinged behavior and also exactly the kinda shit i would've pulled in high school 10/10

---

uhhhhhh that was chapter 1 and i feel i should perhaps stop here for now since this is getting like way longer than i thought it would lfksndlfmdkgj the whole thing is like. 30k ish words? i feel like i wrote about 3 or 4 chapters

i like. shoulda done this shit a few days ago so i could start writing again today (the 1st) but i was too busy drawing heehee uhhh whoopsieee >w<

its ok its fine this year i will make it to 50k easy peasy dont even worry abt it ;3 i will definitely not go back to drawing today that would be sooooooo silly and goofy of me hahaha :)

[roma107]

some of iracus easter eggs

before you read this, make sure you've read this fic on ao3 first.

summary: dick Grayson has fallen Or a look at how people reacted after dick's death.

dick grayson week 2022 - Day 1

- dick was gonna die at christmas or thanksgiving which would have amplified the angst tons but i decided to go with superhero day instead. felt more fitting. didn't want to ruin other holidays for his people forever yk.

- superhero day is an actual thing. u.s. marvel employees created national superhero day on april 28, 1995 to celebrate everyone's favorite superhero

- alfred sees dick as his son, the same way he sees bruce. most of his quotes compare both men and notice the difference in their actions.

- my personal headcanon is that dick has some kind of eating disorder and when stressed, he goes mute

- there’s a a decade-long argument between the titans on who's dick's best friend. they didn't reach any conclusion. moreover, the number of people arguing increases every year

- if you liked the quote “ the noise of the family is a reflection of the calmness of the heart “ you should read stolen - it expands on this idea

- the feeling of not being enough to save the boys always hunts alfred. he always has to sit in the cave and wait for their bodies. this time he was hoping to reach the hospital before it was too late. he didn’t

- clark's part focuses on the idea of rebirth. most of his paragraphs started with "the first time...". it's referencing nightwing's legacy of change. dick has always had the courage to start anew when he needed to. he was never stuck in the past, always living in the present.

- dick dies holding damian and leaning on donna. i'm sorry, i don't know why i do that.

- dick dying peacefully while surrounded by his loved ones is his ideal death. dying while flying or well falling is a close second.

- coincidentally the color code pain scale follows their original colors. green, yellow, and red. blue is when the pain is off the charts.

- only dick grayson can lean on the man of steel without feeling fear or being brushed off

- the heroes couldn't return the favor and save him like he saved them multiple times before

- it's canon that the titans distract each other from pain by talks and jokes

- i know roy wasn't in titans annual #1 but roy’s quote still stands

- dick went with Roy on a trip to Ireland to Ireland to help him take care of Lian when he first started out as a father

- should i write the conversation between lian and roy? because it’s totally in my wips and all you have to do is tell me to continue it.

- check my work "d-word" where destiny and death had an interesting conversation when dick died before going to spyral.

- we have a bond, remember? you’ve been inside my mind, let me inside yours. - not comics' quote - taken from teen titans show

- have a wip around the idea of dick using swords. let me know if you want to read it.

- a reminder that ras calls bruce, dick, jason, and tim “detective”. you can guess which one is he talking to here.

- there was a part with haly but never got the chance to write it

- i also have a wip with ace, that i am not sure if i should finish. let me know if you enjoyed the dog's part.

- dogs can only see blue and yellow

- the pets call him dami because that's what dick always calls him and it stuck.

- after alfred's, dick's scent in the manor is the most prominent.

- ace knew from the moment he stepped into the room, that's why he insisted haley goes with him. he knew dick from the very beginning, he caught the change in his scent.

- was bruce in the cave destroying it? guess we will never know

- alfred was getting drunk. yes the proper british man lost it after losing his boy. it's actually canon that alfred got drunk last time dick died before joining spyral

- the longest i've ever written, wow. started this fic last july and finally pushed myself to finish it to celebrate dick's 82 years

[alfredo-kesmann]

WIP ask game!

My Italian ass is asking for "Ci sarà", but my angst heart beats for "Solitaire". I don't want to be greedy, so let's pick Solitaire.

Unless...?

Thank you so so much for asking, and I'm sorry for reponding so late! The reason for this is mostly that I actually finally got inspiration for Solitaire again after you send me this ask, so thank you for that! I'll give you little snippets of both WIP's, because greed sometimes is good (namely when it motivates me to finally work on WIP’s). 

So, first things first: Solitaire.

You're absolutely, completely right about the angst. The entire plot is Martín angst, I'm not even kidding. The general outline is that it forms a series with Fear and loathing/ Now I see, I see it for the first time, which is about Andrés in the Mint realising he should never have left Martín but accepting that it is too late now anyways. Solitaire is to be Martín's experiences of the Mint heist and the time afterwards. The title is taken from MARINA's song by the same name, and although it only is vaguely is inspired by the song, I want to match the vibe I get from it: a supposedly beautiful life that actually is just... loneliness and tears. A ‘we could have had it all’ and ending up with empty hands. 

I only have a few paragraphs jotted down yet, though, because I find it one of my hardest WIP's to work on: I want to show a canon compliant Martín, and I want to accurately portray the way he feels like a victim, even if he isn't truly one. I want to correctly talk about his mental ilnesses (I am guessing at least depression and narcissistic personality disorder, though I’m not planning to label them in the story), but I am no psychologist. I started this WIP around March or April and I suppose I am now more sure about what I'm doing, and now the words are (finally) slowly flowing. 

That being said, enjoy these little snippets:

“Andrés was like a poisonous drug, flowing through my veins and cutting off any necessary blood supply, but it felt so exquisite, like a breeze in the warmest summer day."

[....]

Martín sat in the middle of broken glass, a reflection of him in more than one way, and cried until breathing was getting hard and his eyes were red and dry. 

[...]

The two of them had become so intertwined that sometimes it was difficult to see which one of them was dead and which one of them was still living.

[...]

The television only showed static now, ever since he had thrown an empty bottle of vodka towards it. ‘Don’t shoot the messenger’, went the saying, but Martín hadn't been able to think straight after he had heard the news. In a way the image was fitting, because Martín’s life had become static too, ever since that horrible day.

[...]

But now he understood Andrés’ romanticizing of the death, for his best friend had lived his whole life knowing he would take his own one day. And he had wanted to make his final show grand, he had wanted a last standing ovation, one that deafened his eyes, before the red curtains closed forever. Martín also knew that Andrés would dissaprove of the method he was contemplating, in his sad little flat, a simple shot instead of blazing guns. So he put the velvet box back and instead took a bottle of vodka in hands, waiting until a better idea came to mind, waited until he had a plan, ignoring how those were harder to come by now Andrés wasn’t with him anymore.

Now, Ci sarà is practically the polar opposite of Solitaire: it's pure and unadulterated fluff. The only thing they have in common is that they both are named after a song and both get too little of my attention ehehe oops. I have no idea where I want to go with this story, whether to make it a one shot, or something more. I think the latter, though.

Basically, I had been studying (very) late and it was around 3AM. I was listening to a music playlist when Ci sarà came on. It is one of my favourite Italian songs (though honestly I love anything by Romina Power and Al Bano) and yes I know, I know, my music taste is just as basic as Andrés de Fonollosa's. I, myself realised that exact fact then as well. So, I thought: what if this would be the song for Berlermo's first dance at their wedding? The song just makes me so happy in an undescribable way, and since feelings are always much stronger deep in the night, I felt so incredibly happy and in love listening to it, in the middle of the night, at a volume that was a little too loud. This resulted in me putting the song on repeat, and trying to describe that feeling I had felt. So in a way, ci sarà is a writing exercise. 

The plot thus far basically is Andrés being overwhelmed by happiness during his wedding dance with Martín (and everyone is alive and happy). Because as much as I love making him suffer in stories, I also like writing his strangely soft side around Martín. I might write the entire wedding and also the proposal, because I have ideas, especially for the latter (Andrés had been planning to propose for months, then Martín is the first to ask him. Andrés is divided between tremendous frustration and great happiness, but obviously says ‘yes’; that’s also why I imagine that they both take the surname ‘Berotte-de Fonollosa’). 

So, here some snippets (I couldn’t choose so it’s slightly more than ‘some’):

They were spinning, whilst the music was swelling, and it was dizzying Andrés. One step back, to the side, close, one forward, to the side, close, an endless repetition. Martín spinning him around and pulling him in his arms again. Their friends all singing Ci sarà, all wearing white clothing and pearly smiles, the adoration clearly visible in Martín’s eyes, how beautiful Martín was looking in the suit. No, not just Martín, his Martín Berotte-de Fonollosa. They were turning again, his husband’s -he couldn’t believe it, his husband’s- warm hand burning on his waist, then on his right cheek, only shortly and suddenly the refrain started and Martín was singing too, albeit softly, yet it’s still too loud in Andrés’ ears. Everything is so loud, so bright, so vibrant. It’s all so pure, and he’s drowning in love, with the sun shining brightly as if it was God’s blessing of their union, the perfectly green grass as nature’s wedding gift to the new spouses. 

[...]

Andrés manages to spot his hermanito in the choir made of bank robbers, he’s holding hands with his wife and Paula and he looks so happy and carefree. He has finally accepted Andrés’ relationship, he had even been the one to walk Andrés to the altar, and the things Sergio had told him then were still going through his head.

The butterflies in Andrés’ stomach were taking him over more and more, he is growing dizzy and dizzier. All this love, he has no place for it, it is seeping through his veins, bursting out of his fingertips like rays of sunshine, out of the fingertips that are currently in Martín’s hand and on his shoulder. Andrés knows that he hasn’t had much to drink yet, but he has never been more intoxicated, intoxicated on this eternity captured in less than four minutes. Martín is turning them again, leading him gently, keeping him steady. Martín is there for him like he has always been. And now it’s finally right, it’s finally the way it should be, the other ring on Martín’s hand. Finally, he has married his last spouse, it’s finally the one who he was meant to be with. Finally, finally, finally.

[...]

Andrés feels like he is flying, like his feet aren’t touching the floor anymore. The two of them form a leaf in a strong summer wind by the blue sea, slowly going upwards in an intricate dance, but they’re also so much more. They are the wind and the sea, the entire universe is drowning in their love and they are drowning in the universe. It’s all so much, so so much, yet so small. There is no Berlín, no Palermo, no monastery, no friends forming a choir, no wedding cake, it’s just Andrés and Martín Berotte-de Fonollosa, and their love for eachother. 

[...]

Andrés is oh so dizzy with happiness and love, and then he feels it, wet on his cheeks, rolling over his lips, Martín’s hand gently sweeping the oceans welling in his husband’s eyes away. He wants to open his eyes, but he can’t and he doesn’t need it anyway, he already knows what Martín’s soft smile would look like. When Martín kisses him again, softly cupping his cheek, Andrés realises his husband had been crying as well, their tears mixing together like everything between the two of them always has, the way they’ve always been. Like so many of their clothes, their ideas, their furniture, their past and future, their personalities, their love. They have always been intertwined, it just took Andrés a while to see. 

[...]

“I can’t believe you cried,” Martín said as he giggled, truly giggled, and Andrés thought it was somewhat comparable bubbles coming to the surface in a fishing pond, and then decided it was a stupid thought because nothing can compare to his husband. Andrés can’t help smiling. “You were crying too, mi marido,” he says softly, the quip in there lost, replaced by pure adoration. He takes Martín’s face into his hands. “Today was my last wedding, I know it for sure. No one else has ever made me feel like this.” And normally, Martín would have joked that he must had said that to all of his wives too, but he didn’t. Instead, his hands mirrored Andrés’, softly stroking Andrés’ cheekbones, which were still wet with tears. Their lips met without any of their usual aggression and hunger, and maybe this kiss was even more important than the one after the exchanging of vows, for Andrés just had made a promise that was much more meaningful. 

Thank you again for asking, I hope you liked these snippets! I might or might not have just started another WIP based on the season 5 trailer, so I have no clue when these two will finally be published. 

[floraltohru]

For the fic asks: 4 & 22!

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

There are currently 15 open documents in my wip folder, not counting Fundamentals, Caffeine and Copperplate, and precious metals which are also all in progress. 

I’ve got some fun ones, though: Nao and Kimi going on a practice date, a Hajime/Mutsuki 5+1, and a couple neat little Yuki and Tohru friendship fics. 

Here’s a bit of the 5+1:

“Mutsuki.” He can practically see his mother in the kitchen, phone cradled between her ear and her shoulder while she makes her coffee. She’s probably wearing her favorite red sweater, even though it’s always got a loose thread hanging somewhere. Last week she told him she was planning on a finger painting project with her middle-schoolers, and she never minds if the sleeves on this one get a bit messy. 

"Hi, Mom." He eases himself down onto the engawa, phone in one hand and coffee in the other. He usually doesn't call in the mornings, but he barely slept last night so it doesn't matter much anyway. 

"Are you sick?" she asks. 

"No," he says. "I don't think I have a fever or anything."

"Is something wrong?" 

"Not really." He fiddles with a loose thread on his own sweater and suddenly he's homesick on top of everything else. He wonders if she's by herself or if his father is there too, bespectacled gray eyes tinged with concern as he watches Machi on the phone. 

Machi hums lightly. “Not really isn’t no, Mutsuki.” 

22. Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style.

Honestly my writing style hasn’t changed a ton since April and I kind of write either snappy dialogue or rambling stream of consciousness narration so I’m all over a spectrum, which was also interesting to note while I looked for a passage to rewrite. 

But I think this is the first paragraph of my first fic: 

If someone had told Kyo a year ago that he’d be in this position, he would have laughed. Or punched them in the face. It’s anybody’s guess, really. There are a lot of things about his life now that Kyo wouldn’t have believed a year ago. He’s got a home he doesn’t hate coming home to, even if it also belongs to Shigure and Yuki. He’s got friends at school, guys his age who seem to think he’s cool enough, and Hana and Uo who tolerate him as long as he takes care of Tohru. And Tohru. She’s stronger than anyone he’s ever met. And stronger still because she’s been through so much and still maintains her kindness, still cares more about every other person around her - even the ones who have hurt her - than she does about herself.

He’s hopeless. And maybe in love, but he’s trying not to think about that. Yeah, no, he’s definitely hopelessly in love - with her.

But right now he’s fighting against every cell in his body, hair on end and ears pressed back, his feline instincts urging him to run away.

“You think we should what?”

And when I sat down to rewrite it (sort of leaning into a more stream of consciousness style that I’ve been into as of late), this is what I came up with: 

For someone who can fly off the handle at the slightest provocation, Kyo actually does know a few decent coping methods; Shishou had taught him how to meditate when he was a kid, backs straight and mirrored across from each other on the tatami floor of the dojo while Kyo nursed some bruise or abrasion or other, shameful spoils of war, consequences made concrete on his skin. 

But it’s an imperfect science and no amount of meditation could calm Kyo’s frazzled nerves right now, with Tohru’s suggestion suspended unanswered in the air between the three of them. 

He notices with a sharp jab of envy that Yuki looks entirely nonplussed, cool and unbothered while Kyo’s hair stands on end and his heart threatens to escape from his chest. 

“You think we should what?” 

asks for fic writers

[quickspinner]

WIP Report 4/22/20

So just a heads up (I know, I gotta stop starting sentences with so, it’s a bad habit) on how things are going and what you can expect to see soon and slightly less soon! Here’s a quick rundown on what’s in progress ‘round these parts.

Sorry, this is long because y’all ought to know by now I’m a wordy bitch! So (I did it again) buckle up I’m about to ramble.

Backlog - I still have some works to crosspost here from AO3, so you’ll still see some of my older work pop up in the evenings for the rest of the month. I’m going to do some of my older one shots for the rest of this week, and then Sunday will be the college AU multichapter I did for the first week of Lukanette Month last year (not Hey Gorgeous but a different college AU I did before that). Again if you’ve already read my AO3 stories and you don’t want to see them again here you can use the ‘backlog’ tag to filter. 

Weekly Prompts - I’m still doing them, although I missed last week’s and I may actually miss this week’s (or it may inspire one of the kiss prompts) just because I’m so behind. But I’ll still be doing those, they’re fun and they help me from getting tunnel vision on a project too badly. As a reminder the @mlweeklyprompts is open to anybody and is any ML ship allowed, no ship required, just check the rules and tag the blog so that you can be reblogged. And if you don’t feel like following the rules, there’s no prompt police, so you can do what you want, it just won’t be reblogged if it’s outside of the guidelines. 

Beautiful Dreams - I’m so thankful for the people who’ve let me know they enjoyed the first chapter. Now that I’ve started posting this will be my absolute priority until it’s finished. I love this fic, I’ve been working on it a long time, and I’m really excited for it. I know it’s a little heavier than my usual fare but it’ll still have happy endings all around so I hope you’ll stick with me. I’m expecting about a week to a week and a half between updates. The first four chapters are mostly written so there will be some editing and polishing that has to happen (I’m still debating about exactly where to to put the break between chapters two and three) and I will also be working on the last two chapters so that hopefully by the time the first four chapters are up, the last two chapters will also be mostly done so there won’t be a huge delay there. These are long chapters compared to my previous stories, so there’s that too. Chapter 1 was the shortest by quite a couple thousand words so far. 

Gamer AU - Also high up on the list. I’m actually debating making this a separate story from the rest of I’ll Never Not Know You and splitting it into chapters because it’s getting to be kind of a monster to do all in one bite. But, even if I do that, because I write terribly out of order I don’t have a part 1 to put up yet. I was thinking I could finish this week but I just got so behind last week that I don’t think it’s going to happen, I’m still catching up on the have to do list and I haven’t even had a chance to touch this yet.

April Kisses - I’ll keep this going if I can get some short ones up over the next couple of days to give me some breathing room; I hate to give up so close to the end - there’s only 9 days left (8 because I wrote a short cute one for tomorrow already). They’re not really worth delaying the other projects over, though, so I’ll just have to play it by ear and see where I’m at.

The Soulmate AU - I hear you guys that want this, I love it a lot and once I get through the rest of Beautiful Dreams I really want to focus on this and toss some ideas with my writing buddies and see if I can really get this one rolling again. I have a beginning, I have an end that I love, I just...have to figure out what happens in between and I haven’t had a lot of time to focus on it. If I decide that I just can’t make it work as a full length story, I promise you will get what I’ve already got. If worst comes to worst, I can write about a paragraph to connect the end and the beginning and you’ll just miss out on the long distance stuff. 

I’ll Never Not Know You - I still have some things that people requested that I haven’t done yet, and they’re still on the list, but again these will be backburnered a bit while I focus on Beautiful Dreams, and to be honest, I think it will be a good thing. I won’t say I’m burned out on first meetings, I don’t think it’s that extreme, but these were originally meant to be fun and short and they’ve started turning into these huge monsters, which isn’t a bad thing necessarily because I like the pieces I’ve done, but they’re work, when they were meant to be just quick, fun little pieces to go between the longer stories. 

Other Stuff - I still have a list of ideas for Across All Realms, I’m still planning on a part 2 (and possibly 3) for Man’s Best Fang, I’ve got five or six other things in various stages of writing, some of them AU’s that I’m really excited about (Although WHY I keep writing AUs involving stuff that I know NOTHING ABOUT is really beyond me, but then again if I stuck to what I know that would be like...knitting. It would be a knitting AU. Knitting and dogs.) As we get closer to the end of Beautiful Dreams you might start seeing some of this stuff in WIP Wednesdays or SSS as I start looking ahead.

A quick note on WIP Wed/SSS - I just want to thank everybody who likes or reblogs those WIP Wed and SSS posts and/or tells me that you’re excited for a particular thing, that’s actually both super encouraging and really helpful because it helps me prioritize, and while I absolutely try to write what I like and the things that are important to me, your excitement gets me excited. 

So thanks for sticking around and reading through all this mess! I hope that gives any of you who might want to know a rough picture of the plan going forward. 

[fleetofshippyships-archive]

WIP Meme

Tagged by @belleslettres-love, thanks hun =D

Rules: post the first line of your wip and tag as many people as words.

And since they did a paragraph instead of a sentence...👀 y’all know how I love to overshare while working on stuff, and I’m working on multiple things at once, most of which are different parts of my mdzs mer!au series...

1. 

This is kind of...my current main wip is actually combining 4 finished oneshots/drabbles into one piece and adding transitions and filler scenes to make it flow as best I can and make it a more coherent multi-chapter piece (who am I kidding though, I’ll end up probably doubling the overall word count in new added scenes), here’s the first paragraph of that:

The sound of cricket song fills Wei Wuxian’s ears, the clear, starry sky is filling his vision, and Lan Zhan’s hair is like silk against his fingers. It’s probably the most peaceful and content he’s ever felt. A moment he wishes could go on and on, endlessly.

But, since that was already technically finished as a standalone piece before I started combining these pieces, then the more correct ‘first line/s’ of this wip would be the new scene (which I’m still working on) I wrote to connect that first piece to the second one.

In which case:

Wei Wuxian stared at the ceiling for some time, his reaching hand long fallen back onto the bed. Another dream of seeing Lan Zhan again. Like all the others, it had felt so real. He had stopped visiting that pier in the hopes of seeing Lan Zhan again, but his mind kept sending him back there, night after night.

Still driving myself nuts over the tense change and transitioning it, but...present works really well for that initial dream sequence and I don’t want to re-write it XD wouldn’t be an issue if the first moments of waking weren’t also in present tense, making the transition super awkward, but I refuse to change them because it’s so beautiful and sad, I can’t mess with that 🤷‍♂️ I’ll just probably smack a chapter break between the two and torment my poor readers by leaving it on those sad lines for a few days before uploading the next chapter 😅

Oh man, though, if this was a ‘last line’ of your wip meme, y’all readers of my mer!au would lose your shit, I still squeal and flail whenever I look at the last lines of the last part that’s going into this multi-chapter set XD 

2.

Lan Xichen turned his face into the breeze. It ruffled his hair a little, what few strands weren’t smoothly pressed back, at least. It was still an almost uncomfortable sight, how similar their features were.

👀👀

3.

Wei Wuxian waited until Jiang Cheng was out of sight, and then his shoulders slumped. He lifted his hands to cover his face and inhaled slowly. He could barely contain himself, remembering Jiang Cheng caring for him like a younger brother, or maybe even a son. After the suspicion had passed, at least, but even then, he had been kinder to Wei Wuxian than he would have expected.

I went and started a mini-follow up to my 27k de-aged wwx fic that I may or may not have finished and may or may not still end up deleting, which was itself an alternate of an unposted oneshot focusing on lwj and lxc’s part of this same story and which I may or may not end up deleteting since I didn’t like it and that’s why I went and wrote jc and wwx’s side...sometimes it just be like that 🤷‍♀️ and god i want to write jin ling’s pov of the whole fucking thing too but yikes NO i need to stop

4.

Kasen turned from the sheets he had just hung to dry, just for a moment, to see if Ookurikara’s distasteful state continued. He was resolved to say something if it did. There was only so much he could stand, and there was established etiquette for such things.

Whoops, also started a Kurikasen soulmate au cos I was throwing soulmate headcanons around with someone at like 2 in the morning and that’s a surefire recipe to get me writing (and in fact that’s how I started writing kurikasen in the first place, we were talking about them and I went onto ao3 and saw there 3 fics about them, went and was like OMG WHY to them, starting headcanoning with them and then hey next thing I knew I’d written 2 drabbles and it was 3am). But then while I started writing it we kept talking about it...so I sort of plotted the whole thing out and now my interest in writing it has plummeted so I’ll probably never finish it...but I’ve still been tinkering with it anyway...

5.

“Pick herbs?”

“Yes. Herbs, mushrooms, anything. Just send him out of the castle for a day or two. If he stays a moment longer he’s going to cause an incident and—” Arthur stopped speaking abruptly.

Gaius raised both his eyebrows. “You are the prince, your highness. If you wish him to be gone for a time, why not order him yourself?”

“Oh, if there’s one thing I’ve learned about my useless servant, it’s that the only person he will actually listen to is you, Gaius,” Arthur said, sounding uncharacteristically bitter.

Sooo, @april-thelightfury115 I haven’t forgotten I owe you a merthur fic, and this isn’t technically the start of it, but it’s the start of the doc it’s in, I’m sort of writing bits of it out of order as they come to me. I haven’t written Merthur for so long and I don’t usually write with such a clear idea outline in my head so...we’ll see XD but I’m trying =)

ANYWAY

There’s a couple more small things here and there, I’ve been having such a hard time maintaining focus so I’ve just been hopping around my wips doing a little here and there, but let’s leave it with those 5 main things =)

And, I dunno who to tag @rockmarina and @sarah-yyy come to mind...anyone who wants to be tagged in things like this leave a reply and I’ll note it down somewhere for future reference, I really can’t rely on my memory to recall who I know that writes, and the writers I’ve been talking to lately are all on discord or twitter...and I’m never sure if I should tag all the HP writers I know when I do these and they’re not about HP anymore 😅

[worldbuildingwren]

For the writer ask meme: 1, 21, and 35!

1. Tell us about your WIP!

I’ll answer for Siege of Castle Veh since I have a better sense of how that story’s gonna go. The basic premise: centuries ago, an invading army attacked Castle Veh, which was home to the most powerful sorcerers the world had ever seen. Those sorcerers erected a barrier around the castle’s walls, so although the battle raged on the fields surrounding it, Castle Veh itself was untouched. Years passed and the castle’s inhabitants slowly began to realize that the war, if it ended at all, would go on far after they were all dead. They began to dig, and build, and within a hundred years, the beginnings of a vast city sprawled below the earth. The children, children’s children, children’s children’s children, etc. of the original inhabitants scattered through and settled this city, prisoners of a war that they didn’t start.

The story opens roughly a millennia after the war began, and as of now, it follows three threads. The first thread is April Pages, a book smuggler who brings knowledge of the outside world to those who can pay for it. The second is Thistle, a healer on the battlefront, who wants nothing more than to sleep. The third is a group of people descending into the earth bring back valuable material, and all the backstories, demons, and drama that they bring with them.

21. What aspect of your writing are you most proud of?

My description. The best compliment I ever got on a piece was that I didn’t waste words, that the reader could picture everything clearly without a long paragraph describing every detail. I’ve spent a long time honing this skill, and will spend a longer time continuing to hone it.

35. Post the last sentence you wrote

If you don’t count outlining (which I don’t, because every sentence there is a massive spoiler) it would be “She rolled her shoulders, ducked her head down, and hurried off towards the gate.” from here

[flauntpage]

It’s Been a Terrible 24 Hours for Washington Nationals Fans

Let’s check in on Washington Nationals supporters, those slimy creeps. Those political scumbags masquerading as baseball fans.

Here’s a “reminder” from an NBC News digital political reporter:

Reminder: Harper hit .211 in 19 post-season games, striking out 23 times in 76 at-bats and compiling an .801 OPS. He was often on the DL, from which he tweet-praised a pitcher who was no-hitting Nats. His grotesque behavior on the field was worse than what goes on in the Capitol. https://t.co/psxyzFjX6W

— Jonathan Allen (@jonallendc) April 3, 2019

That’s a bit of an exaggeration, Jonathan Allen. What goes on in the Capitol (on both sides of the aisle) is an embarrassment to every hard-working, tax paying American citizen. Bryce Harper just plays baseball.

Here’s more wisdom from Allen:

I wasn’t talking about the bat flip. I’m ok with bat flips (Tony Tarasco had a great style).

I was talking about his failure to hustle, his bat-slamming, his umpire-bashing temper tantrums, his incessant trash-talking, his constant self-glorification, etc.

— Jonathan Allen (@jonallendc) April 3, 2019

I went over to NBC Sports Washington to see what those jabronies wrote last night and this morning. There was nothing truly defiant, just some pitiful paragraphs like this one, after the jump:

Unfortunately for Nats fans, if Harper keeps hitting this well over the next 13 seasons, there could be a few more bat flips on the horizon.

Also this passage from a different NBCSW article:

“I try not to watch [the bat flips],” Nationals manager Davey Martinez said. “It’s the way the game’s evolved. Everybody’s got a couple that do it. I try not to watch. I really do.”

With that, his press conference closed. Martinez sounded dejected. His demeanor was more noticeable because it was shift, akin to when a noisy person falls quiet or a silent one raises their voice. Martinez spent last season relentlessly positive in public and often in private. Not Tuesday night following the rain delay, the injury, his ace pitching well but not winning, his bullpen failing time after time.

“Bottom line is we lost one of our good players and we lost,” Martinez said. “We’ve got to come back [Wednesday] and we’ve got to get better. Just got to play better.”

Apparently the Phils battered the Nationals so bad last night that this electronic display outside of the ballpark needed a reset:

The scene outside of @Nationals Park this morning. Literally rebooting after last night. pic.twitter.com/GYv5Io9b34

— Jenny Wing Harper (@JenWing1) April 3, 2019

This guy had the right idea, but the only flatulence was the Nationals’ performance:

Got em @ScottSAllen pic.twitter.com/0gRek998jB

— Tyler (@livlikeverdeyen) April 2, 2019

94 WIP Marketing Director and Phillies super fan Cindy Webster clipped some great videos from the right field stands, including this one:

And Phillies fans are being told to quiet down by Nationals security pic.twitter.com/SE7Z3ZNxPi

— Cindy Webster (@CindyWeb94) April 3, 2019

And Russ referenced this on the podcast; here’s a father/son duo using Gotye lyrics to rip Bryce Harper:

Nats fans are bitter pic.twitter.com/UJPBXLMKH3

— Cindy Webster (@CindyWeb94) April 2, 2019

Gotye? Really? #Natitude

Nationals Reddit was a glorious gold mine for reaction, highlighted by this excellent post from a dude who compared last night’s game to running into your ex-girlfriend:

So imagine you were dating this really awesome chick for like 6 years. Like smoking hot and everyone was envious of you. Then you get close to your anniversary, and it’s clear you two are having problems. Eventually she says she wants to see someone else. You’re hurt, certainly, but you think maybe it’s better this way.

Only right after this you find out she’s started seeing this other dude you know. And he isn’t just some random guy – he’s the dude you can’t stand more than anyone else you can think of. He’s the guy who as long as you’ve known him has been laughing at you every time you’re down, making fun of you, trying to fuck with you.

So now imagine that you hear both of them are coming back into town one night, and you want to give her a piece of your mind. Tell her she made a mistake – that he’s a douche bag and you’ve got a new girl. And this new girl, (even if she’s not quite as hot) is better than her and makes you happier than she ever did. So you take your boys with you to the club, and you stride right up to the two of them, ready to make your point and even things up emotionally.

Only the dude proceeds to beat you up, break one of your boys’ fingers, and almost give another one a concussion. Your ex is laughing at you the whole time. To top it all off, when you leave it’s raining and 45 degrees out.

And THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is how my night went.

User Cbad16 pointed out that “this shit is depressing his dog” – 

Poor guy.

Anyway, I’ll leave you with a moment of clarity from Ryan Zimmerman via The Washington Post:

“Nobody did anything wrong. There are no bad guys in this. It is okay. Everyone can be happy,” said Zimmerman, who, two years before he reached free agency, signed a $100 million extension to make sure he spent his whole career with the Nationals and near Virginia Beach, where he grew up. “These days, it’s hard not to make something out of everything. But you don’t have to.

“Bryce is not the first MVP to switch teams,” Zimmerman continued, referencing how Harper turned down a 10-year, $300 million offer from the Nats, with $100 million deferred far into the future, to take a 13-year, $330 million contract from the Phillies. “This happens. He came. He played. He exercised his right. Sounds like any business anywhere. I hope they cheer him — once anyway.”

How about that?

Common sense.

The Phils are getting ready to put another smack down on the Nationals in a few hours. Same lineup as last night.

Let’s go.

  The post It’s Been a Terrible 24 Hours for Washington Nationals Fans appeared first on Crossing Broad.

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