#my 5 + 1 things fic outline stares at me every day

[toastytrusty]

writing out my long detailed headcanons about romkas in my notes app and drawing them cuddling every day because i don't have the energy to actually write anything substantial someone help me i have so many ideas and no ability my mind is a fortress and i am trapped within it

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

in which late night sad topics are broached, buggy comes to his senses (???), and we do need to get out of bed at some point, shanks. there are things happening outside your personal drama, you know.

part seven of the post-marineford portion of the near miss fics! (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6) if you have no idea what i’m talking about but would like to read a shanks/buggy story about kissing in disguise and then having to deal with the emotional fallout of doing that, click on this link, that’s the tag for the whole thing in chronological order. (plus a fair bit of complaining about writing, one inspirational improvised musical number, and a snippet of shanks pov) if you do know what i’m talking about: i am afraid this fic is turning into a test case for zeno’s dichotomy paradox, where the closer i get to the end the farther away it becomes. >>; i honestly cannot see how it would take me more than 5k to wrap things up, but i said that last time, and the time before that, so… see you in part eight! eta: i almost forgot!! if a moment early on sounds familiar, you may have already seen the huyandere art that inspired it. either way please enjoy the silliness.

Buggy woke with a start, and didn’t know where he was.  The bed was too soft, the person at his back was too warm.  And too close, Galdino had so far always curled up facing the far side of the bed, what was he—Buggy blinked blearily at the faint outline of a sake flask on the nightstand.  Oh, right.  This was Shanks’ room.

The windows above the bed let in a fair amount of moonlight, but the moon was waxing crescent tonight so Buggy couldn’t see much of anything.  He hadn’t thought about it when he decided to stay the night, but he didn’t sleep well in new places.  Stupid to think that just because there was a familiar person that the unfamiliar place wouldn’t still disturb his sleep.

Ah, well.

Buggy moved slowly, not wanting to wake Shanks if he could help it.  It should be possible, they weren’t wrapped up in each other or anything stupid like that… though if Buggy had been asked, he would have imagined Shanks was as clingy asleep as awake.  But no, Shanks was close enough that his body heat had soaked into Buggy’s back, but they weren’t touching.

Buggy stretched a little, yawned a little, and rolled over.  He couldn’t resist the opportunity to see what a fully grown Shanks looked like asleep.  The possibilities were too tempting… what if he had stupidly messy hair, or drool dried on his face, or a big snot bubble on one nostril?

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t get to find out, because it turned out that Shanks was awake.  He was lying on his side, in fact, staring at Buggy.  Biting back a yelp of alarm, Buggy swatted him on the arm.

“What the hell!” he hissed.

“What?”

“Why are you watching me sleep?  That’s so weird!”

“Is it?”

“Very!”

Shanks smiled sheepishly.  “Sorry.  I just couldn’t sleep, I guess, so I was lying here, thinking…” Buggy open his mouth and Shanks immediately put his hand over it.  “I know I set you up for it, but please, no jokes about how hard that must be for me or whatever.”

Buggy made a muffled grumbling sound and shoved Shanks’ hand away.  “Thinking about what, then?”

Shanks glanced away for a moment and sighed. “Well, I guess it is after midnight.”

What did that have to do with anything?  And then Buggy remembered: his moratorium on sad topics had been for one day only.  With a huff, Buggy turned away from Shanks.  He didn’t want to see Shanks’ face while he asked his question.

“Buggy.  Buggy, look at me?  Please?”  Shanks’ hand tugged at Buggy’s shoulder, a silent echo of his request.

Silently groaning—he used to say no to Shanks all the time, when had he lost the knack for it?!—Buggy rolled over and said, “Fine.  But I get my sad question first!”

Shanks considered him.  He nodded.  “That’s fair.”

Great!  If only he’d had one prepared.  Buggy’s thoughts went every which way—what did he want to know, what intel could he get out of Shanks?—before latching onto something totally useless, but also deeply important.  “Did you know?”  Realizing this was stupidly vague, he added, “About the kid?”

Shanks’ brow furrowed.  “‘The kid?’”

“Ace.”

“Ah.”

“Did you know he was Roger’s?”

Shanks sighed and laid down.  Staring at the ceiling, he said, “I… had my suspicions.  When I met him, a couple years back, he told me a lot about himself.  His dreams… where he was born… it was suggestive.  And then there was his name.”

Buggy groaned.  “Who names a kid after their sword?!”

Shanks chuckled.  “Roger.”

Buggy sighed.  “Roger.”  He propped himself up on an elbow to look down at Shanks.  “So he didn’t—no one told you?”  Told you and not me?

Shanks shook his head.  “Who would have?  Who could have?”

Buggy shrugged.  “I don’t know, doesn’t that haki stuff sometimes let you talk in each other’s heads or something?”

Shanks laughed.  “No!  It doesn’t work like that!  How many times—”

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t know how it works, I don’t care how it works!  I just—” Wanted to know if I’d been overlooked again.  “—wanted to know if you knew.”

“No.”  Shanks eyes softened, as if he’d heard Buggy’s real reason.  He reached up to curl the end of Buggy’s ponytail around a finger and tug Buggy closer.  “No, I think the only person Roger told was Garp.”

Buggy made a disgusted noise, which was not at all strangled by his reaction to Shanks’ hand in his hair. (Nope!  That wasn’t provoking any kind of feeling in Buggy at all!) “Garp,” he muttered darkly.  “What the hell was Roger thinking?!”

“Probably that Garp could keep his son safe.”  In the dim light, Shanks’ eyes were hooded, unreadable.

“Oh yeah, he kept him real safe,” Buggy said dryly.

“As a kid, I mean.”

“What’s that matter?  However safe his childhood was, he’s dead now,” Buggy snapped.  “Our childhood was about as far from safe as possible, but at least we’re alive!  At least we were cared for!  That kid… the way he thought of himself…” Buggy buried his face in Shanks’ chest and sighed deeply.  “It wasn’t right.  One of us should’ve had him.”

Shanks’ hand came to rest on the back of Buggy’s neck.  “Being a dad at sixteen would’ve been hard.”

“I guess,” Buggy grumbled.  “But we would have managed.”

Shanks’ hand went stiff and still, fingers digging into Buggy’s neck a little.  Buggy realized what he’d said and started to sweat.  He’d been hoping to distract Shanks from his question, not bring them back around to that topic himself.

“Buggy.  Please look at me.”

Buggy craned his neck back to look Shanks in the eye, resting the point of his chin on his chest in a pointed, hopefully painful move.

Shanks grimaced.  “I’m sorry, Buggy, but I have to know.  When did you ever want to be my first mate?”  How did I miss that, his eyes seemed to ask.

It was about as hard to look at as Buggy had expected.  He averted his eyes.  “That last year with Roger?  Maybe earlier, I don’t know.”  Shanks started stroking his thumb across the spot where Buggy’s neck met his hairline.  With that bit of contact soothing him, he managed to get the truth out.  “I thought it was the only way I’d get to the last island.”

“…you wanted to go there together?  That long ago?”

Buggy grimaced.  That awed tone of voice told him Shanks had gotten the wrong idea.  “More like I didn't think I could get there alone.”

“Oh.”  After a moment’s pause, Shanks went back to stroking Buggy’s hair.  Buggy relaxed, cheek sinking into Shanks’ chest.  His heartbeat thudded away by Buggy’s ear in a slow, steady comfort.  I’m here, I’m alive, I’m here… “Then I’m glad.”

“Hm?”

“I’m glad we didn’t stay together back then,” Shanks said, sounding almost surprised by his words. Buggy stared blankly into space. Was he hearing Shanks right?  Shanks nodded, surer, and said, “Yeah, never thought I’d say that, but… I want you to believe in yourself more than I want you to be with me, Buggy.”

Buggy blinked a few times, fighting off a sharp stinging in his eyes.

Shanks tensed underneath him.  “Buggy?”

Buggy shook his head, lifted himself up the barest amount, and pressed their lips together.  Shanks made a soft, protesting noise, but Buggy would not be moved.  He wouldn’t express these feelings in words, it couldn’t be done.  This was the best he could do.

With a resigned little sigh, Shanks sank back into the bed, fingers threaded into Buggy’s hair, and let Buggy kiss him.  Their faces came together and drifted apart so slowly, so many times, that Buggy would be hard-pressed to pinpoint the moment when they finally stopped, but stop they did, as sleep claimed them again.

When Buggy woke for the second time, early morning sunlight gleamed through the windows over Shanks’ bed.  He was warm and well-rested, sated in almost every meaning of the word, and had no interest in getting up.  And who could blame him?  Shanks, still asleep, was lying on his back facing Buggy, his hand loosely curled around the back of Buggy’s neck, unconsciously keeping him close.  Not that Buggy had made any effort to get away in his sleep; his head was on Shanks’ shoulder, his hand resting lightly against Shanks’ carotid, where he must have kept track of that pulse all night.  I'm here, I'm alive, I'm here… Shanks’ face was so close that Buggy could see every small hair of the dark red mustache that had grown back in overnight, could feel the air flutter against his cheek every time he breathed. Which—well, the sour, alcoholic morning breath didn’t exactly fit the morning’s atmosphere, but Buggy had smelled worse.

Buggy drifted a little, enjoying the gentle rocking of a boat at sea, the human contact with someone who cared for him, eyes shuttered against the sun’s attempt to wake him fully.  He didn’t want to get up until he had to.  That motion of the boat meant they’d already left port.  It wouldn’t be long before they met up with Buggy’s ship and crew, before this time together came to an end.  Buggy intended to enjoy it while it lasted.  Maybe if he laid here long enough, concentrating on his warm satisfaction, he’d be able to preserve it in his memory.

Outside, something fell to the deck with a loud crunch of wood on wood, the moment was ruined, and Buggy came to his senses.

He grimaced.  What was he thinking?  Preserving the memory of this sweet, soft morning?  Ugh.  Buggy rolled away from Shanks, his sappy thoughts snapping him to true wakefulness.  What was he, some dockside lover pining away for a pirate he only saw once a decade?  As if!  If anyone was leaving someone behind here, it was Buggy!  And he wasn’t gonna be some sappy excuse for a pirate either, staring wistfully at the horizon, thinking of someone he couldn’t be with—no way!  Best to start as he meant to go on: by reminding himself of all the reasons he’d left in the first place, reasons why he would not miss Shanks at all.

He got up, not bothering to wake Shanks but not going quietly about his business either.  His clothes were scattered all over the room—which was, he noticed with a touch of amusement and (ugh) affection, a lot less messy than it had been when he stopped by yesterday morning—and they’d gotten all mixed in with Shanks’ clothes, too.  After a few false starts (they’d been right, Buggy could not fit in Shanks’ pants these days), Buggy made himself sartorially presentable.  One last check in the mirror hanging next to Shanks’ closet, and—what the fuck.

Buggy gaped.  He looked like something out of a horror story.  His chin was streaked with red, his cheeks a ghastly pale gray where the powder hadn’t rubbed away entirely, just the faintest hint of the original crossbones showing through.

Good god, this makeup wasn’t just cheap, it was really cheaply made.  The kind of stuff that would barely last an hour on an expressive face, let alone a day.  Buggy put a finger to his cheekbone and watched with dismay as powder came off in a little cloud of dust. Not even his good setting spray would save this stuff.  And the way the lip had smeared was—

A thought occurred to Buggy, and he spun around to stare at Shanks in horror.  Marks that he hadn’t noticed last night were in the light of day very obvious lip prints in a deep red tint.  On his neck, his chest, all the way down his chest in a very telling progression… oh no.  No, no, no.  This could not be borne.

Buggy dug around in his pockets and pulled out the makeup removing stick he’d gotten from Galdino.  He’d thought he might need to touch up the makeup a bit in the morning, but not this much.  Glancing between Shanks, the little wax stick, and his own increasingly panicked expression in the mirror, Buggy came up with a plan.

He finished making himself presentable— cleaning up the edges of his lip and removing almost all of the powder from his face, save the slashes of blue meant to draw attention to his eyes—and leapt onto the bed, jolting Shanks into consciousness.

“Shanks!” he hissed.

“Mm?”

“Shanks!” he hissed again.  Shanks didn’t stir.  “I’ll hit you,” he warned, and Shanks groaned piteously, hungover.

“Not into that so much,” he mumbled, “but if you insist…”

Buggy flushed, shoved that reaction down deep, and said, “Would you wake up already?!  I have to go, and you need to promise not to leave your rooms until I’m back.”

“Hm, ’s that so?”  Shanks cracked open one eye, finally, and frowned a little at the sight of Buggy, fully dressed.  “Now who’s the one in a rush?”

“Didn’t I just say I’ll be back?” Buggy chided.  He flicked a finger against Shanks’ chest.  “You need makeup remover, and I assume you don’t keep any in here.”

“No.”  Shanks blinked.  He looked down at himself.  “Why would I—oh.”  He looked under the blanket.  “Oh, wow.”

“You see the problem,” Buggy said dryly.

“I sure do,” Shanks said, voice wavering with disbelief and laughter.  “I mean, wow, Buggy.”

“Shut up!  It’s not my fault—those guys went and bought me new makeup yesterday!”

“That was sweet of them.”

“Yeah, that and three hundred berries will get you a cup of coffee.  Stupid me, I assumed a couple dozen guys doing a day’s work could afford something a little better than this.”  Buggy waggled the wax stick around; powder rained off it onto the bed.  “This stick’s run its course, so I’m off to beg another one…” Buggy gave Shanks’ lipstick-marked chest a considering look.  “Maybe two… off Galdino.”

“Bring him tea,” Shanks suggested.  “Roux says he’s more agreeable after a cup of Earl Grey.”  At Buggy’s look of surprise, Shanks smirked.  “That guy’s not the only one keeping tabs on people around here, you know.”

Huh.  Well, Buggy would have to rethink every conversation he’d had with or in the presence of Lucky Roux.  Later.  For now, a bribe of tea sounded like a better plan than the one he’d had (shouting until he got what he wanted).  He headed for the door, but was stymied by a hand tangling in his sash.  He glared over his shoulder at Shanks.

“What now?”

Shanks—Buggy blinked, not believing what he was seeing—pouted.  “Can’t I get a kiss goodbye?”

Buggy blinked twice, not believing what he was hearing.  “You must be joking.”

“You aren’t gonna kiss me again after you get this lipstick off me, not when that would undo all your hard work,” Shanks said, sounding very reasonable for a man with his bottom lip stuck out so far.  “But I need a kiss.  Just one more, please?”

If someone had told him even yesterday that Shanks would become such a baby the second he was shown the smallest bit of affection… “You know what?  Fine.”  A delighted expression bloomed on Shanks’ face as Buggy walked back to his side. Buggy smiled, laid a loud, wet kiss dead-center on his forehead, and pulled back to watch his face crumple.

The pouting was, if possible, worse this time.  “Buggy, come on.” Shanks tugged at his sash again.

“I don’t know who told you this behavior was attractive, but they did you a real disservice,” Buggy said, splitting at the waist when it became clear Shanks would rather pull the sash loose than let go.  “I’m going.  I—” Actually, if he was flying anyway… “—do your windows open?”

Shanks dropped the pouty look—ugh, Buggy knew he’d been faking, what an ass—and glanced up.  “Yeah, there’s a hinge somewhere…”

Buggy flew up and found a simple latch that let the windows swing out.  Not great for hiding that the windows were open, but sensible for evacuation purposes.  He flicked the latch and carefully swung open one window.  Just big enough for him to get out, excellent.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

Shanks gave him a fond smile.  “As you wish.”

Giving Shanks a wary look—he really couldn’t tell how many of these strange comments were jokes anymore—Buggy floated out the window and off toward the mess.  Roux happily put together a mug of tea for Galdino when asked.  He also pulled out a cup of drinking chocolate for Buggy, unprompted.

Now that Buggy knew to look for it, it was a little uncanny how well Roux had him figured out after all of two days’ acquaintance.

Well, however well Roux knew Buggy, Buggy didn’t know him at all; he couldn’t tell if the grin on Roux’s face was a smug, knowing one, or if that was just how he smiled.  As Roux was adding the finishing touches to the tea—apparently Galdino liked it with lavender syrup and steamed milk, which was about as fancy as Buggy might have expected—Buggy thought, what the hell, the first mate already knows, and asked for something to eat, chef’s choice, and a bowl of that tomato-egg stuff Shanks liked, both to be picked up when Buggy was done bothering Galdino.

Roux’s grin didn’t change when he agreed, which answered that question.

When Galdino didn’t answer the door, Buggy went ahead and broke in. (Though was it really breaking in when it was supposed to be your room too?) He was dead to the world, those wax plugs in his ears again.  Buggy started rapping his knuckles against the headboard, knowing the vibrations would get through even if normal sounds wouldn’t.  After a minute, Galdino groaned, rolled over, and wrapped himself in a cocoon of wax.

Buggy paused.  That was different.

“Did you get drunk last night or something?” he asked, speaking loudly to be heard through the cocoon.  He couldn’t think of another reason Galdino would be this resistant to getting up.

The wax melted away to reveal a miserable, red-eyed man huddled in a ball on the bed.  “Or something,” he agreed.  Spotting the tea in Buggy’s hands, Galdino made a pathetic little sound and reached for it weakly, fingers stretching out but his arms not actually moving.  “Those Red-Haired Pirates do not mess around when it comes to drinking games.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Buggy said, passing the tea along to Galdino, who drank slowly and gratefully.  “Shanks could polish off a bottle of wine in an afternoon with no problem by the time we were thirteen, it’s only natural he’d find a crew with similar tolerances.”

Galdino groaned. “Yes, well, that would have been helpful information to have yesterday.”  Draining the mug, he said, “What did you want, then?”

“Hey, not every interaction has to be transactional, you kn—” Buggy started to say.  Galdino gave him a narrow-eyed look, and he gave up mid-word.  “More of the makeup removing sticks, please.  The shit those guys got me was cheap as hell, it got everywhere.”

“Everywhere?”  Galdino’s eyebrow shot up.  “Like… everywhere everywhere?”

“…and how’s that any of your business?” Buggy asked flatly, glaring daggers at him.

“You can’t blame a man for being curious,” Galdino said with an unrepentant little smirk.

“The hell I can’t, you flashy, nosy know-it-all!”  Buggy grabbed the closest weapon—a pillow—and tried to smother Galdino with it.  Galdino shrieked, shielding himself from the onslaught with wax armor.  After a brief battle of wills, Buggy stopped trying to kill Galdino, and Galdino made him a full dozen makeup removing wax sticks, at which point Buggy attempted to smother him again, and half the sticks melted and bound Buggy’s hands up, and—anyway.  Buggy got out of there eventually, with a reasonable number of wax sticks hidden away on his person.

As he left that room there was a tugging at his waist that had Buggy looking back, remembering too late that his waist wasn’t here, and grumbling to himself.  Oh, was he taking too long for the poor Emperor of the Sea?  Tough luck.  If someone wanted to see Shanks that badly, they deserved to see him as he was, all lipstick-stained and sex-haired.  So long as Buggy wasn’t in the room when it happened, it wouldn’t embarrass him. (Probably.)

The tugging continued, and Buggy rolled his eyes and let it happen, even when it changed from a tugging to a gentle pressure, what felt like Shanks’ whole hand pressed against his waist. What was Shanks thinking, touching Buggy like this?  Was he just lying in bed, staring at Buggy’s disembodied legs?   What a weirdo.  Buggy smiled—then, remembering himself, frowned.  What a creep.

At least the mess was empty.  Buggy hadn’t checked a clock, but he suspected the night shift and first shift men had already come through, and those without an early schedule had yet to get up.  It was super convenient, actually: no one but Roux would see him doing something sort of thoughtful for Shanks. Not that he deserved it, the way he was acting right now, making Buggy start to sweat with the effort of not reacting to the hand on his waist, the thumb rubbing little circles into his skin.

Roux had, somehow, just finished preparing the food, though Buggy had taken twice as long as he’d meant to with Galdino.  He had everything packed up in little boxes, tied together with butcher’s twine, a paper cup that reeked of grassy green tea sitting on top of the stack.

“Let me know what you think of what I made for you today,” Roux said with a grin as Buggy went to leave.  “I got a little experimental.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” Buggy said with a grin.  “I almost think you could get me to eat tomatoes and like it.”

Roux laughed.  “I still haven’t managed to get Shanks to eat blueberries, but I guess anything’s possible!”

That had Buggy laughing to himself the rest of the way back to Shanks’ rooms. He’d forgotten Shanks’ thing about blueberries! As a child, Buggy had accused Shanks of copying him, pretending to hate a blue food in revenge for Buggy legitimately hating a red one, but the truth was he’d always been a little squeamish about their yellow-green insides.  Hadn’t liked the look of them, or so he’d said.

Oh, the pranks Buggy had pulled!  Hiding a single overripe blueberry in all kinds of terrible places: the bottom of a bowl of porridge, on the seat of a chair, gently placed between the pages of a novel Shanks had bought at the last port town… man, he’d been such a menace as a kid.  But Shanks had given as good as he got, so it never felt unfair to mess with him.  As they’d gotten older, though, he’d stopped reacting.  Either stopped getting mad, or stopped showing he was mad, Buggy had never been quite sure which.  God, it had pissed him off. Shanks was only five months older than Buggy, where did he get off suddenly being so grown-up?

And now Shanks was more easygoing than ever!  Buggy didn’t trust it; no one was that unruffled by him, especially not when he was being obnoxious on purpose.  Even now that he’d seen some of what Shanks had been hiding, Buggy knew there was more to it.  Behind those fond smiles and carefree laughter, there was a part of Shanks he didn’t trust Buggy with.

Which was fine!  It was the most sensible thing he’d ever seen Shanks do, honestly—Buggy was a no-good, thieving, backstabbing pirate, he shouldn’t be trusted—but that he wouldn’t admit to it pissed Buggy off.  To others, sure, let Shanks play the fool, whatever, but to Buggy?  The least Shanks could do was be honest about lying to him.

As he was approaching the open window to Shanks’ room, a sudden jolt of sensation nearly made him yelp.  Shanks had shifted his hand lower in a caress that sent a shiver up Buggy’s spine, and now he was rubbing his thumb across Buggy’s hipbone, just like yesterday in the park, which was… Buggy shivered again.  Not something to be thinking about in public, damn him! He flew in the window, scowling, dropped the food on Shanks’ nightstand, scowling, and floated back up to shut the window with a scowl on his face.

“Buggy, hey!” Shanks was sitting on the edge of his bed. He’d found pants at some point, but not bothered with a shirt. He grinned. “You got us breakfast?”

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Buggy said, turning that scowl on him.

“Hm?” Shanks said, an innocent look on his face.  He was still stroking Buggy’s hip, like that four-inch curve of flesh and bone was the most fascinating thing he’d ever felt.

“I refuse to give you your stupid goodbye kiss, so you decide to rile me up while I can’t do anything to stop you, so when I get back I’ll be unable to help myself, huh?  Is that it?”

Shanks blinked.  He looked from Buggy’s lower half, standing between his legs, to Buggy’s upper half, floating above him.  “Couldn’t you have just… stepped back, or kicked me, if you didn’t like it?”

Buggy opened his mouth to respond and found he didn’t have one.  He could have done that.  He just… hadn’t wanted to.

Shanks began to smile.  “‘Unable to help yourself,’ you said?”

Buggy scowled.  “Oh, you’re lucky you’re hot.”  He shoved Shanks back and climbed on top of him, ignoring the laughter that burst out of Shanks as his head hit the mattress.

Later, very relaxed and searching for reasons to stay mad at Shanks, he was annoyed to learn that the boxes Roux had packed everything in were special heat-retaining boxes that could stay warm for upwards of half a day if left alone.  He couldn’t even revenge himself on Shanks with a cold breakfast!  He tried to eat resentfully, but the food was just too good to manage it: thin cuts of yesterday’s fancy ham, fried with syrup to a salty-sweet crisp and layered with fried eggs, cheese, and a sour spicy sauce on a hot dog bun.  Roux really was some kind of miracle-worker; the bun wasn’t even soggy.

At least with a hand-held breakfast he could scrub aggressively at lipstick stains with his free hand while he ate.  Shanks had to hunch over his nightstand to eat his breakfast (the tomato-egg stuff Buggy had requested, served over fried rice with what looked like spicy pickled cabbage and the fancy ham mixed in), and obviously he had no hand free to pitch in.  He was happy to criticize Buggy’s technique, though, saying, “Won’t pressing hard enough to bruise defeat the purpose of cleaning me up?” as he leaned into the scrubbing motion.

This was, unfortunately, a reasonable point.

Muttering, “Well excuse me, I didn’t realize you bruised so easily,” under his breath, Buggy switched his focus to less easily bruised parts of Shanks.  Just as he was getting started, there was a knock at Shanks’ door.  The two of them shared a look—Buggy recently reclothed and fed, Shanks sitting there half-naked with his half-full bowl of food—and Buggy sighed.  He split himself a couple ways, leaving one arm behind to scrub at the lipstick on Shanks‘ chest, floating his head and the rest of his torso to the other room.

“What?” he barked out, sounding so annoyed at being interrupted that (hopefully) no one would question why Buggy was in Shanks’ rooms at this hour.

“Oh, good,” said Benn Beckman.  He walked in, terrifying Buggy, who’d been fairly certain that door was locked.  “I didn’t have any idea where to check if you weren’t here,” he admitted, glancing past Buggy and making a face at the glimpse he caught of Shanks.  “Boss, I think you’re gonna need to just give in and bathe to get all of that off,” he said, before returning his attentions to Buggy.

But Buggy was too distracted by this piece of information to let Beckman get back to his point.  “There are bathing facilities on this ship?” he said, horrified.  I could have gotten actually clean?  Jabbing a thumb at Shanks, he said, “And he still looks like an unwashed rat half the time?!”

“Hey!” Shanks said, affronted.

Beckman coughed, poorly hiding a surprised laugh. “Well, I can’t speak to my captain’s personal hygiene decisions, but yes, we do have showers, and yes, we deliberately hid them from you.”  Buggy gaped, aghast.  “Our potable water reserves and salinity filters are decent, but we just don’t have the capacity to let hundreds of people use them over such a short span of time,” Beckman admitted.  “It would have caused interpersonal conflict none of us wanted to deal with to only give some people access to the showers, especially if there appeared to be any signs of favoritism.” He gave Shanks a sideways look. “And there would have been.” Shanks shrugged affably, not denying it.

Buggy scowled, but nodded.  This was a fair point.  He'd been avoiding thinking about similar issues that would be sure to come up when he attempted to squeeze all of the Impel Down prisoners onto the Big Top.  The space, the supplies, the food… he needed to find a proper home base, an island no one cared about in Paradise, where he could leave most of these guys while he figured out what the hell he was going to do with a crew that had more than quadrupled in size overnight.  Multiple ships? (How?) A bigger ship? (How?) A permanent land-based population? (Who?  Where?)

Buggy shook his head.  Stupid to borrow problems from the future when he had plenty on his plate in the present.  “What did you want with me, then?”

Beckman tilted his head towards the door.  “Captain Buggy, if you don’t mind?”

Oh.  Using his title, and wanting to talk without Shanks overhearing?  This was serious.  Buggy dropped the wax stick—Beckman was right, a shower with lye soap would work just as well on makeup this cheap—and reconnected his body, following Beckman into the hall.  Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, “I’m listening.”

Beckman ran a hand across his face.  In a ragged undertone, he said, “Our timeline is a lot tighter than we’re making it look.  There’s a trade wind we need to catch tonight, and to do that we need you and yours off this ship within an hour of docking.  And, well, you saw how slow-moving that bunch can be.  Can you get those guys in some kind of order?  God knows they aren’t going to listen to anyone but you.”

Buggy nearly laughed. Encouragement to boss around those guys some more?  Was that all?  With a grin, he gave Beckman a slap on the arm.  “Tell you what,” he said, pushing Beckman back towards Shanks’ room, “you take care of your idiot in here, and I’ll take care of all of mine out there.”

Beckman sighed, relief making him look ten years younger.  “Deal.”

(If a protesting sound came from within Shanks’ room, both of them chose to ignore it.)

[blouisparadise]

Today we’re excited to share the fourth part to our college/university rec list! If you missed them, you can find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy these fics, please be sure to like and reblog the post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Outline Of My Sins | Explicit | 6551 words

Prompt 453: AU where alpha Harry is an art student who is taking a figure drawing class and omega Louis is the nude model. In the many years that Harry has taken art classes, he has never been more hot and bothered than now, having to stare at a beautiful nude omega model for hours.

2) Is Ur Muffin Buttered? | Explicit | 7053 words

He knew what he was getting into when he began to hook up with Harry Styles. How could he not? Everyone on campus knew about him, the type of player he was, ready to break hearts and beds and all that. But it wasn’t as if he had planned the mess he was getting into it, at least not in the beginning.

3) Peaches | Explicit | 7669 words

Once behind Harry, he bends over and places his hands on Harry’s thighs, slowly rubbing while bringing them up to Harry’s chest. Noticing the more prominent bulge in the alpha’s pants, the omega starts to whisper the lyrics in Harry’s ear.

4) Kiss It Better | Mature | 8080 words

Harry shakes his head with a light laugh and leans down to kiss him again which Louis happily accepts even if he is a little confused by the reaction. "Baby, not a night has gone by that I haven't thought about you in my bed, naked, and begging for my cock."

Blinking up at him with wide eyes, Louis opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. While they did flirt a lot over the last few weeks, Harry had never said anything like that. It shocks him as much as it turns him on.

"News to me."

"I won't lie and say I like random hookups or casual sex, but to me this isn't what that is."

Louis swallows thickly, unsure of what to say to that but once again Harry gives him an out.

"So, If you want we can stay up here and I can show you all the things I've thought about doing to you." Another kiss, quick and sweet. "Or, we can go back downstairs and we'll dance all night."

5) Be The Artist To My Muse | Explicit | 9665 words

“I think I’m in love,” Harry says, flopping back to lay on the bench again.

Nick sighs and pats Harry on the head.

“There, there. You’ll forget him in a day or so.”

6) The One Who Stays And The One Leaving You  | Mature | 10315 words

Fuck.

He had just slept with none other than Harry Styles.

7) Like A Hurt, Lost, And Blinded Fool | Not Rated | 13919 words

ABO college AU where alpha Harry is a frat boy and he asks omega Louis out multiple times but he rejects him every time because Louis doesn’t like how frat boys act towards omegas. One night at a Halloween party, Harry dresses up as a stormtrooper and keeps his mask on all the time and flirts with Louis and Louis flirts back without knowing that’s Harry under the costume.

8) No Lemon Drops No Bubblegum | Explicit | 14979 words

They never interacted in that one semester, in that one class, and never were put in the same group, never sat close to each other. Then again, it’s not like Louis was hoping it’ll turn to something more. Just a fleeting crush, that he’ll get over once he stops seeing him every week.

Except he hasn’t stopped, he’s still thinking about it once in a while. What’s Harry Styles doing today? Has he cut his hair? Does he still eat scones for breakfast every Wednesday? He got his answers now, at least about the state of his hair. Harry’s hair is a lot shorter than the last he remembers, it curls around his ear, framing his square jaw nicely. He’d have to ask about the scone next time. If there’s ever a next time.

University AU. In which Louis is most definitely not pining.

9) Nothing’s Scarier Than Losing You | Explicit | 15466 words

When Louis and Harry run into each other at a Halloween party two months after their breakup, they’re reminded of how rude, infuriating, and utterly perfect for each other they are.

10) Treading Through Flowerbeds | Explicit | 20384 words

“So are you coming to class or are you gonna take the day off to shop online for your vibrator?” Zayn props his shoulder against the doorframe and watches Louis scurry around their room in amusement.

“I wouldn’t have lost the bet if—” Harry and his massive dick didn’t exist, “—you didn’t make us go to that frat party.”

“You’re the one who said you could flirt your way out of a speeding ticket with that old, bald policeman,” Zayn replies. “You know, you should be glad we went with the vibrator up your arse instead of taking Viagra before class.”

11) Baby, Loving You’s The Real Thing | Explicit | 21011 words

Harry never thought he’d be taking care of a child at the age of twenty-one—well, trying to anyway.

12) Cut The Sides, Don’t Touch The Back | Explicit | 21596 words

Prompt 87: Harry’s been talking about getting a mullet for so long and Louis hates how good he pulls it off.

13) It’s Not A Walk In The Park To Love Each Other | Explicit | 24461 words

The one where Harry and Louis are roommates forced to quarantine together, but they hate each other very much a lot.

14) If It Wasn't For The Nights | Explicit | 28499 words

“Okay, so. You didn’t fuck. But you’re gonna go hiking with Harry?” Zayn raises an eyebrow. “You don’t even go outside.”

Louis groans, crossing his arms on the table and hiding his face in them. “I know.”

15) Dont Know Its Lost Til You Find It | Explicit | 30614 words

Maybe it’ll be better this way. Maybe Louis just needs to distance himself, get over his crush so Harry doesn’t have to worry about his obsessive friend who feels too much and says too little.

He wonders what this girl is like. What she looks like, what conversations they had to make Harry fall for her in three days. If maybe she’s just stellar in bed. If she smells like heaven or if it’s just the fact she’s a girl.

He wonders and wonders, resists the temptation to stare at the alpha, and gets exactly no work done.

16) You're An Alpha, Harry! | Explicit | 32900 words

Right before Harry goes to university, he presents as an alpha. Struggling with his newfound identity in a completely different environment, he seeks advice from the notorious Louis Tomlinson, an omega whose claim to fame is being the local campus sex expert. Sex Education AU.

17) If The Sun Don’t Shine | Explicit | 36335 words

In a world where you meet your soulmates in dreams, Louis has spent the last three years going to bed hoping to finally meet his, only to end up disappointed time and time again. It all changes with a violin.

18) Voicemail Sings A Wreck | Explicit | 37016 words

Louis is the president of the biggest omega sorority on campus, Harry is the president of the biggest alpha fraternity on campus, and they do not get along.

19) Catch Me If I Fall | Explicit | 47099 words

Lovers when on the stage but bitter rivals as soon as they step off, Harry and Louis have butted heads from the moment they first met. Locked in a stalemate that they hope to ride out until graduation, things take a turn when Harry learns that Louis is hiding a secret.

20) I Can’t Help It (If You Look Like An Angel) | Explicit | 52277 words

Louis remembered how just moments before he had been grateful at the pieces in display being anonymous for everyone that wanted to see them, a thin veil that protected the artists established firmly in place despite the disappointed faces from the gallery visitors when they realised they couldn't track what their eyes saw back to anyone, and they couldn’t demand any kind of explanations from them regarding what they felt.

That relief got lost in the back of his mind when his eyes caught onto the painting, the obvious attentiveness and care poured in the canvas making his chest hurt.

What do you find to be the most beautiful thing in the world?

Apparently, for someone, it was him.

21) Lost In The Sirens | Explicit | 53729 words

ABO fic where alphas and omegas can’t cohabitate as friends and Harry ‘supposed-to-be-a-beta’ Styles presents a few weeks before he and Louis ‘hot/spicy-omega-bestie’ Tomlinson are set to move into their new uni flat.

22) Gallery Of Us | Explicit | 55778 words

Harry knew what he was doing in life, everything laid out in black-and-white, each day pleasantly predictable. Cue lively art student, Louis, trying to find his place. An almost insufferably happy person who sometimes forgets to hide the way they feel meets the person who is diligent enough to notice and determined to make a difference.    

23) It’s Golden, Like Daylight | Explicit | 61496 words

A college/ABO/fake relationship AU where longtime friends, Harry and Louis, come up with the perfect plan to fake date, which, of course, ends up being a complete disaster.

24) Lost & Found In Oblivion | Explicit | 74799 words

Omega Louis decided to hire an alpha for his heat to ease his touch deprivation, but little did he know everything would grow into so much more.

25) You’ve Got A Higher Power, You’re Once In Any Lifetime | Explicit | 113444 words

In a society full of prejudices, finding a family and being accepted, also seemed like an unrealistic utopia.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[valeffelees]

WIP WEDNESDAY

g'morning. ☀️

thank you very kindly @hushed-chorus for tagging me bright and early today, it's seven o'clock for me and i am so fucking delighted to have started my day with SELKIE SIMON! 😭💞 and a big thank you to everyone who tagged me on Sunday, too, 'cause altho i didn't participate in SSS (🐍) myself this week, i really do love seeing what y'all are working on.

how many of y'all signed up for COTTA? 😄 i know posting isn't until September iirc, but i'm stuuupidly excited for it. i thought about signing up myself (and even went as far as to rough up a 1 000 word outline for a fic for it on Friday lmfao) but i feel a bit too nervous, i think. n e way, since Without Sun is still in that ✨ spoiler zone ✨ and very close to being finished, i thought i'd share a snippet from a different WIP today instead. it is a veryyy tropey 5+1 Things fic called Wonderful Life that follows Baz's POV from fifth through eighth year. 🫥

Moonlight pools across the shallow valley of Snow’s stomach. It fades softly from green back to blue as the silencing spell on the room wears out—not a second too soon—leaving the darkness behind chalky and thin. Baz isn’t sure what he was expecting. An explosion, he supposes. For Snow to go off like an H-bomb. All heat and fire and flat, blackening waves of power, so much power. The Power. Spilling out of him like he’s a cup left under a waterfall. Like he did during their fight with the chimaera at the start of the year. But Snow wakes sluggishly, moves slowly. Stares at Baz with dim, blinky blue eyes as he wipes the sweat from his chin and props himself up against his headboard. He draws a long breath in. Then, “You woke me up.” It isn’t a question. “You were having a nightmare.” “I always have nightmares,” Snow says, and his voice is tender and husky from sleep and strain. He furrows his nose. “What do you care?” Baz rubs his palms against the tops of his thighs, trying to press into the coolness of his own skin through the smooth Mulberry silk of his pyjamas. He can still feel Snow’s warmth in his fingertips. A clingy, feverish spiderweb. “I don’t,” he replies waspishly, “but I couldn’t very well sleep with you making a fuss all night, could I? You’ve been screaming. You should be grateful I didn’t choose to spell your tongue off instead.” “Oh.”  Snow lifts a hand to his forehead, probably looking for innocent curls to abuse. He’s always messing with them. Fluffing them up, combing them out. Pulling and tugging and twisting. His hair is always a bird’s nest by the end of the day, every spiral frayed apart like a thread of broken yarn. He thumbs at the centimetre-or-so of brownish fuzz above his temple. Baz wishes Snow looked bad with his head shaved, that his skull was a funny shape or something, but he doesn’t. He just looks like a boy. Younger, maybe. More like he did when they were eleven. (And it draws attention to the way his ears curve out a bit at the top.) (It’s frustratingly cute.)

happy today, and have a good week, remember to drink lots of water and rest when you need it and maybe listen to a kick-ass song or two.

Tag, you're it! @cutestkilla @raenestee @thewholelemon @larkral @artsyunderstudy @blackberrysummerblog @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @imagineacoolusername @ivelovedhimthroughworse

[drivingsideways]

For the usual suspects @rain-hat​ and @elderflowergin​ and a not-suspicious at all anon :D

From Behind the Scenes of Fic Writing: 30 Questions for Authors

1. What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

This was a Draco/Hermione fic that I only shared with few friends via email! :))

2. Do you participate in any writing events or challenges throughout the year? If so, what do you like about them?

Unfortunately, no! Mostly because I am absolutely terrible at working around deadlines when it comes to fic, and also I have a lot of anxiety around whether I’ll ever finish the fics I start writing. 

3. Do you write fics from start or finish, or jump around?

Hmm, I usually don’t jump around between fics, but sometimes when I’m writing a long fic, I take a break and doodle something shorter. But this is quite rare, because it takes me a while to get into the “zone” when I’m writing a fic and I’m nervous to break that and try something else in case I never get my mojo back for the fic I started with. 

4. Do you outline before you start writing? If so, how far do you stray from that outline?

I start outlining about a quarter way through the fic, usually! I only have the vaguest idea of plot when I start out, usually, and it takes me a chapter or three to get things clearer in my head. But once I am writing fairly steadily, then I find it useful to make an outline so that a) I don’t forget to put in things and b) I feel good about tracking progress. 

My outline does keep changing- I’d say, I stray about 20-25% from it in terms of no of chapters planned vs what gets written; but not really much in terms of the main story/ events. 

5. What is the perfect environment for you to write in?

This question made me miss my old life (when I was living alone): I miss the table I used to write at, and the window I would stare out of, the curtains fluttering in the almost constant breeze, and the quiet. But the truth is, I can write anywhere- a coffee shop, a train compartment, in my bed- what’s critical is that I need to be left completely alone for a few hours at a stretch. 

6. If you’re really concentrating, how many words can you write in a day?

I haven’t really tracked this as such, but I know that I wrote about 3-4k almost every day when I was doing an episode coda format fic for Serenade of Peaceful Joy as it was airing. But that kind of writing is unusual for me;  I’d say maybe 2-3k if I’m left completely alone and don’t distract myself.  But it’s not really the word count that matters, is it? If I write a drabble (100 words!) that I’m happy with, after thinking about it for the whole day, I’m good with that too. 

7. Which part of writing do you struggle with most?

I’m very bad at editing. 

8. Do you listen to music while you write? If so, share a song that’s been inspiring you lately.

I don’t like to listen while I’m writing because it’s distracting, but in the last year or two, I’ve taken to making playlists to listen to while I think about fic. Of late, it’s been a bunch of David Bowie songs, especially Starman, for a fic I’m thinking about. 

9. Do you prefer to write AUs, canon divergence, or canon-compliant fic?

I think all fic is somewhat ���AU” from the canon; but if you’re asking whether I would write a High School AU for hmm, Supernatural, for eg, then NO.  That said, I have done precisely this in one fandom- not high school au, but “modern” au for a period drama- but it was because it was low energy and effort, and that was all I had the bandwidth for at the time.  I usually like writing fic within the canon universe which attracted my attention in the first place.  I often enjoy writing post canon fics, which would be like 95-100% canon compliant; and in some cases I like making a specific canon divergence, which then makes the whole thing “au”, I guess. 

10. Do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?

I don’t really think of writing or the joy I derive from it in this way though- I mean in these buckets- so I’m not sure whether I can answer this question. I realize that my fics tend to be dialogue heavy because I have tv show brainrot. Do I enjoy writing dialogue? Sometimes! When it’s going smoothly! :) 

11. If you could only write angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your life, which would it be?

I think my wheelhouse is “bittersweet”, so it’s always going to be an angst+ fluff combo, maybe? I LIVE for the day when I’ll be able to write a good PwP, which, I think, is much harder to do than most people guess. 

12. Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

I keep thinking of writing some kind of platonic soulmate-fic for various canons, but I haven’t got around to it. 

13. Is there a trope you wouldn’t write if it was the last trope on earth?

Is Omegaverse a trope or a genre? I wouldn’t write it ever. Also, let’s face it, High school/ college/ coffee shop etc. (I hated college, what is WRONG with all of you!!!)

14. If you were stuck on a desert island with only two characters, which would you pick?

Nobody. I want that island and its solitude all to myself, thanks. 

15. A Hollywood producer tells you that they want to film just one of your fics. Which fic would you want it to be?

It can’t be a Hollywood producer, because they would just ruin it, but if anyone wants to make Terms of Surrender,  I think that’s the most movie-like. Artist Company, you can have this FOR FREE. 

16. What is your most underrated fic?

Hmm, I’m not sure what this question really means- should I consider kudos/ comments as a measure? I end up writing niche pairings in small fandoms, so I think that’s a double whammy; but in a medium sized fandom like Beyond Evil, I sure wish more people read “Deer Heart” rather than “Cat Whisperer”. My best writing was for Serenade of Peaceful Joy, which nobody watched, and so maybe three people read the fic. 

17. What fic are you most proud of?

I can’t really answer this, I think. All of my fic is very personal to me, and while I know the quality of the writing varies *wildly *, I’m proud that they exist. Ok, NOT Cat Whisperer or A Soul Divided, but even those I side-eye because I think kdrama fandom has bad taste, not because they’re inherently awful. :p 

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

Again, there are lots of little bits scattered across all my fic that I love. I love the ending of Inventing Love which I typed directly into AO3 like a madwoman - while waiting for Rain to finish writing the sequel because we wanted to read each other’s fics together; I love Gon getting high on pot brownies and dancing to Black Pink in Destiny’s Child, and talking to his horse when he’s at his lowest;  I love Miranda Barlow asking Thomas Hamilton whether he would have preferred if she had a cock for him to swallow in  May it Happen to me (all) ,  a line I didn’t know I was going to write until I was typing it; I love all the letters between the halmeonis in Terms of Surrender, especially the last one from Geowi to Kkachi, and I wrote each one of them through a blur of tears where I could barely see the screen; in Moon River, I love Do-chul and Hong-gi sharing a cigarette and being so in love with each other, thinking about what the future holds for them, while the titular song plays faintly in the background; I love Park Pyung-ho wounded and exhausted, leaving the lights on so that Jeong-do wouldn’t hesitate to knock on his door; I love Koo Seo-Ryeong texting Hyeong-min “ I made a man of you, baby, never forget “ in TMTTAL; and I love the young Kang Sin-jae ruining a perfect tea-set by smashing one of the cups in Before You Came. I remember writing these things, and I remember the feeling when I wrote them, the best feeling, when the words on the page say exactly what you want them to, even if it might get lost in translation between you and the reader.  

19. Who is the easiest/hardest character for you to write about? Why?

I don’t know if I have ever found *a * particular character hard or easy to write; my trouble doesn’t lie in characters, I have difficulty with the other things- plot and description and grammar, lol. 

20. What’s your favorite minor character you’ve written?

I pepper in a lot of OCs because I can get away with it in post canon fics , and it’s a great way to introduce women into male-dominated canons. Off the top of my head, I love the female OCs I sneaked into This Suspect Edifice (Yejun’s colleague and friend Kim Sang-mi), Deer Heart (Sister Lee Sun-ja and Jeong-je’s therapist Dr. Kim Jung-hee) and recently Choe Yeo-reum from  Terms of Surrender and “Hwasal” from Juche. 

21. What is the one fic that got away?

2020′s Tell me the Truth About Love developed an entire universe of its own without so much as asking me; this year that happened with Terms of Surrender (still writing in that universe!). But I’m more prone to letting fics get away than not because I rather enjoy it when they do.  *shrug hands emoji *

22. Have you cried while writing a fic?

Yes, absolutely, why wouldn’t I? 

23. If you had to remix one of your own fics, which would it be and how would you remix it?

Oh. This is a tough one. I guess I always felt that I didn’t do justice to one of the first  stories that I wrote in The Rise of Phoenixes fandom- A Place in the World- which was a Ning Yi/Feng Zhi wei  fic. I think I would probably expand on the universe and write it from Zhi wei’s PoV. 

24. How did you come up with title for [x fic]?

”Terms of Surrender” started out in a google doc titled The Unified Soy Sauce Company; I think I changed it about three chapters in. I love cheesy Harlequin romance titles and this was a burst of inspiration because I was writing about lives sundered by war and borders; and Spotify randomly played  “Hallelujah” that morning. [ I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch/ love is not a victory march]

25. Which idea came to you first in [x fic]?

For Juche, it’s the reveal that happens half way through the story about how Park Pyung-ho became a spy. Well, that, and Pyung-ho buying a pair of soccer shoes for Jeong-do’s son. Don’t ask me why, I have NO idea. 

26. Which part of [x fic] was the hardest to write?

I know Rain asked for recent fics, but Yeong leaving Corea in Inventing Love was so incredibly difficult to write, but I’m very proud of it. 

27. If you were ever to do a sequel to [x fic], what do you think might happen in it?

If I ever write a sequel to Juche, the only thing I know for sure is that there’ll be at least one scene of them dancing in a small kitchen. [Alexa, play Unchained Melody]

28. In [x fic], what is a happy, post-fic headcanon you have about [pairing]?

In Rival, post fic verse, Min-chae adopts a dog who only loves her mean mom Na Hee-do. *shrug hands emoji *

29. Send me a word. If it’s in your WIPs, include the sentence and a short summary of the fic.

Lol, I think you’ll find an abundance of the word “huffed” in any fic of mine. 

30. Tell us an idea for a longfic you want to write in the future.

I only write longfic! *sob *

My scatter-brain is hopping between several different nebulous ideas and I’m not able to settle down with any one, so I’m going to pass on this. The only thing I can say for certain is that it’ll feature people grossly in love with each other, and being completely stupid about it. * shrug hands emoji *

[hmsharmony]

I was tagged in a first-lines-of-fic meme by my darling @moonatoms.

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten however many people you like. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway!

Tagging: @lissomelle (no this is not an attempt to get your juices flowing because you were brainstorming Shadow & Bone fic what are you taking about), @hondagirll, @seek--rest, @abc2411, and anyone else because it’s 1 am and my brain is no longer working.

1. someone out there who can bring me back to you (Spider-Man (MCU) Peter/MJ Adam Project AU)

“MJ, are you sure about this?”

MJ gestures to be quiet as she and Ned make their way through the silent facility. Ned’s already hacked into the system to shut off the security cameras and alarms, but the last thing they need is to alert any guards. She tightens her grip on her backpack.

2. scars are souvenirs we never lose (Spider-Man (MCU) Peter/MJ, Michelle-centric post-NWH fic)

Michelle is pretty sure she spent the first few hours of Saturday hanging out on Liberty Island with her best friend and a wizard.

Yes, she knows how that sounds. No, she doesn’t know why they were there. It gets particularly confusing when she remembers there was some kind of showdown between Spider-Man and a lizard and a sand storm, and maybe a guy on a hoverboard? Anyway, the point is, she and Ned spent their night hanging out at what she’s pretty sure is now a crime scene, and she has no idea how they ended up there.

3. Speak Aloud What Until Now I've Only Sung (Austin & Ally, Austin/Ally through the years)

They are 18 and prom is just around the corner. He wants to ask her to what is supposed to be the greatest night of their high school lives, but he takes just a bit too long working up the nerve, and when he finally approaches her and tries to nonchalantly suggest that they go together she already has a date.

With Dallas.

Of course.

Fate would decide to screw with him like that.

4. Make a Move (‘Cause I’m Ready) Austin & Ally, Austin/Ally post-Mix-Ups & Mistletoe

Early on the day after Christmas, Trish barges into Sonic Boom and demands, "So are you going to tell me about that almost kiss under the mistletoe or what?"

Ally is still exhausted from yesterday and is all but on autopilot, and before she can stop herself she replies, "Which one?"

5. Fragment of Light (Merlin; Arthur-Gwen 4x09 spec fic)

“They want your head, Guinevere.” Gwen remains silent, her gaze trained to the side. “What am I supposed to do now?” This catches her attention, and she finally looks at him. Disbelief flickers across her face.

6. There’s So Much More Than Me and You (Merlin; Arthur/Gwen 3x10 spec fic)

“Guinevere.”

Gwen glanced up from her place on the dungeon floor. “Arthur,” she breathed. She stared at him for a moment, just making out the outline of him through the bars of the prison door.

6. Burnt Chicken Never Won Fair Lady (Merlin; Arthur/Gwen slightly cracky modern au)

As a rule, Gwen avoided the habit of eavesdropping, preferring not to run the risk of hearing only bits and pieces of a conversation and either agonizing over what had actually been said or leaving the room with a completely false understanding of the discussion. Yet when Morgana started snickering uncontrollably, her magazine shaking up and down, Gwen couldn’t help but look up from her book and follow her friend’s gaze to the two young men standing on the other side of Morgana’s elegantly decorated living room.

7. A Handful of Sand (Merlin; Arthur/Gwen, arranged marriage s3 spec)

Camelot is falling apart.

As much as Gwen tried to quiet this thought, every day it seemed to grow stronger. The dragon attack months ago was only the first of many tragedies to befall the kingdom, and now the people were cursed with a king who, for all intents and purposes, had gone mad.

8. Multa Paucis (Merlin; Arthur/Gwen, Gwen-centric missing scenes from s2 finale)

“They’ve left, Gwen – both of them.”

“Oh.” It’s the only word that manages to escape her lips, the only word she trusts herself to utter without revealing that the world is turning on its head, that she is lost and unsure and …

Scared.

9. A Pirate’s Life (is not For Spoiled Princes) (Merlin; Arthur, Gwen, and Morgana in a pre-Merlin Camelot)

The morning before Gwen’s first day as a handmaiden her father had warned her that her lady’s word was law. “No matter what happens, obey the king’s ward,” her father had said before seeing her off. Gwen understood the logic behind this advice, but she wondered if her father would’ve instructed her otherwise had he been better acquainted with the Lady Morgana. Indeed, Gwen couldn’t imagine that he’d be particularly thrilled if he discovered how his daughter was currently aiding her lady in a pirate attack on the crown prince of Camelot.

10. We Are Just Breakable Girls and Boys (Merlin; Arthur/Gwen shortly after Morgana’s disappearance)

He finds her in Morgana’s chambers. Her back is to him – her face looking out the window – and her arms are wrapped around her body as if she’s protecting herself from the cold. He hasn’t said a word, but somehow she knows he’s there, for she soon says in a hoarse voice, “I didn’t believe him.”

[catboygretzky]

best stucky fic recs pwease

Okay, disclaimer, these are all like five+ years old (which is the best Stucky era, imo) and definitely not the only ones I enjoy; these are just a few in my bookmarks on ao3.

In no particular order besides the order I bookmarked them and under a read more because there's a shit ton of them (really, it's a lot):

- hold me until we crumble; Not Rated, 23k

“Sam told me you were watching Antiques Roadshow,” Natasha says, shaking out her hair. “I assumed it was a national emergency.”

- despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained); Explicit, 72k

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

- family means no one gets left behind or forgotten; Teen, 11k

“Why did you think I wouldn’t like you for being gay?” Steve asks gently.

“You’re Captain America.” Eli’s got his teeth clenched and is resolutely looking ahead. “You stand for truth and justice and the American way. You stand for American morals. You stand for…” he shrugs awkwardly. “Not people like me.”

Steve blows the air out of his cheeks slowly, trying to figure out how to keep the anger out of his voice so Eli doesn’t think it’s at him.

Or, Steve comes to terms with his new world, and gains some children in the process.

- Mistake on the Part of Nature; Teen, 1.3k

Steve takes in Bucky's betrayed look and Sam's confusion, follows Sam's gaze to the pile of mangled fruit in the trash can. Sudden comprehension fills his face.

"Oh," he says. "Bucky found out about bananas."

In which an American icon is mourned. But probably not the one you're thinking of.

- Swear Jar; Teen, 1.5k

Bucky isn't the only troll in the future.

OR

Steve has a Swear Jar and he makes the Avengers pay up every time they cuss.

- Barnes & Rogers and the Goddamn Truth; Not Rated, 19k

There are three well-known facts at Shield High:

1. The history teacher Mr. Barnes is a stone-cold terror, and it’s not even because he only has one arm. 2. The other history teacher, Mr. Rogers, is a mysterious enigma, and it’s something to do with the body of a Greek God and contradicting stories of his past. (They’re all rumours, anyway.) 3. Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers hate each other.

Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

- perfectly right wrong number; Teen, 32k

It all starts because Steve is too dumb to handle his smartphone.

A wrong number AU in which Bucky Barnes doesn't enter Steve's life (meaning: Bucky wasn't born until the eighties, but Steve is still Captain America) until Steve accidentally dials the wrong number. Wherein there is a lot of texting, some advice via Natasha and Darcy, a bit of pining, and a first date in an amusement park. Oh, and on top of being a disabled veteran, Bucky is a professional catwalker. Literally.

- The power of the right shirt (a.k.a. God bless America); Teen, 1.2k

"He just…" Phil trails off, mouth gaping. He is staring at the field outside the house, eyes glazed.

Clint sighs. "Yeah, he just ripped a log in two with his bare hands."

- To fill it up with something; Teen, 21k

A fateful encounter with Dr. Strange leaves the Winter Soldier transformed, and Bucky Barnes reunites with Steve Rogers in a most unexpected way.

“Steve brings the puppy inside, into the apartment that doesn't quite feel like home no matter how much he's been trying. He isn't used to being alone. Before the war, he always had Bucky, and his mother until her death. During the war, Bucky was there, too—and the rest of the Howlers, of course—but Bucky always meant home. (And well, maybe Steve's already got a name for the puppy in mind)."

- build it bigger than the sun; Teen, 10k

“Yeah, because nothing says heteronormative like living in Dupont Circle for two years and wearing skin-tight shirts to hit on hot airmen when you go running in the morning.”

“Look, I know you’re being sarcastic but I really don’t get how no one picked up on that.”

Steve and Bucky try to work out their relationship. The Avengers keep getting in the way.

- Memories Circle (Like Birds of Prey), Teen, 32k

Everything seems to be going right, Steve's fighting with his Commandos, they've saving lives-- until Steve falls from a train, is taken prisoner, and turned into the Winter Soldier. Meanwhile, Bucky takes up Steve's mantle as Captain America, and thanks to Zola's experiments, he gets dropped into a whole new time, only to cross paths with a Steve who doesn't know who he is anymore.

Essentially, the events of CA:TFA, mild mentioning of Avengers, and CA:TWS but with Steve as the Winter Soldier and Bucky as Captain America

- The Gentleness That Comes; Mature, 9k

Steve Rogers never really views the things he had to do to get by before the War with any sort of shame or embarrassment. People ask him for his opinions on modern issues in interviews, but Steve has gotten good at talking around those types of questions. Fury insists that there's no way to answer them without casting a shadow of controversy across the reputation of the Avengers, and that's the last thing Steve wants.

But then a sex tape is released featuring Tony Stark in bed with another man, and Steve can't stay quiet any longer.

- salt for the sea; Mature, 7.5k

Natasha comes home with intel regarding the fate of the Winter Soldier; Steve leaves to go and avenge Bucky Barnes.

“It's a list of everyone who was involved in his death, and a rough timeline of everything that happened beforehand,” she tells him.

“And the notebook?”

“I explained what they did,” Natasha says, “The blank pages are for you to explain what you do to them.”

- Lone Cat and Samurai; Teen, 8.4k

"We lost Kitten America sir!" Junior Agent blurted out. Then turned an unlovely shade of purple. "I mean, Captain America. Who’s a kitten. Because magic. Sir."

- Waiting To Prove You're Not Alone; Explicit, 41k

Months after he woke up on the banks of the Potomac, when a reporter mistakenly assumes Steve would disapprove of homosexuality being as accepted as it is in the modern day, Steve accidentally snaps and unleashes his real opinion on the matter... and with that, a secret he's hidden for over eighty years.

When that secret comes looking for him in New York, Steve can only hope that he can get a second chance at saving his best friend, even if it means keeping his heart in check.

“Yeah, back in my day it wasn't tolerated, and because of that I knew from the minute I figured it out, that I’d never get to tell my best friend that I loved him, and sure enough, he died without knowing that I’d been in love with him for a decade."

- I'm Not Sick (But I'm Not Well); Mature, 30k

Steve Rogers doesn’t meet Bucky Barnes in the 1930’s. Instead, Steve meets him April 17th, 2012.

Well…sort of meets him.

In actuality, Bucky had almost hit him with his truck.

Or: The fic where millennial Bucky Barnes nearly runs over a freshly thawed national treasure, and what Steve Rogers did to adjust to modern NYC during those two weeks before the events of The Avengers.

- pure as the driven slush; Explicit, 11k

He should have worked it out sooner. But then, Steve always was a sneaky little bastard—had to have been, just to survive this long.

For the SteveBucky Fest prompt, "Steve is quite experienced while Bucky's never gone beyond second base with anyone".

- Let's Be Exposed and Unprotected, Explicit, 5k

Bucky’s pretty sure he should be into getting fucked through the floor while walls explode around him like in that Mr and Mrs Smith movie that Clint loves. But he likes it like this. He likes being on his back with Steve looming above him, big and naked, blocking out the rest of the world.

- Man of Steel; Explicit, 6.7k

It’s like Steve looked at his metal arm and thought ‘Challenge Accepted.’

- 5 Times Steve Got Arrested and 1 Time They All Did; Teen, 4.9k

What it says, 5 times Steve Rogers ended up in jail (with and without Bucky) + 1 time all of the Avengers got arrested with him.

- the best of you; Teen, 16k

Bucky is on a mission when he gets the call.

They tell him that Steve has been compromised.

[The story wherein Hydra captures Steve to create a new weapon. Bucky, alongside the rest of the Avengers, come together and work through the fallout.]

- pull apart the dark; Teen, 79k

Steve's unending faith in his best friend was beginning to look less like hope and more like fantasy. When they'd caught the Soldier – in a fire fight that still gave Sam nightmares – the only thing the man seemed to recall was how to hit exactly where it hurt.

Four months later, Barnes still refused to speak English. Refused to heed anything but Steve's voice.

So, all in all, it was not a great time for Hydra to attack New York. All in all, Sam really wished they'd just killed him, instead of turning Captain America into a baby.

- Not Another Supersoldier Fantasy; Explicit, 8.9k

Bucky finds a popular sex toy modeled on Captain America's own anatomy. Well, isn't this just perfect? Because even after all this time, he still hasn’t seen Steve’s supersoldier cock. But apparently in this day and age anyone with $29.95 can get a decent replica. The unfairness of this is of galactic proportions.

- the blood of the covenant; Teen, 7.5k

Steve has a "thing" for hot water.

Or, Sam Wilson adopts Steve Rogers.

- Mighty like Love, Mighty like Sorrow; Teen, 19k

After freeing himself from the Russians' mind control, Bucky is left at loose ends, drifting through the decades. Still, he's in no hurry to take up Nick Fury's offer to once again fight the good fight -- especially not when Fury has the nerve to put some imposter in his best friend's old suit and send him out to fight against Chitauri.

- Read Me Like a Book; Gen, 1.5k

In which Bucky accidentally becomes a book collector, because when the universe gives you a million biographies about your boyfriend, you go bookcase shopping. And then he finds out about The Grenade Incident, and the boys actually talk about it like actual adults. (Somewhere, Sam sheds a proud tear.)

- the broadest stroke of color; Gen, 16k

Sarah Rogers always loved Steve's hands.

"Your hands will do a lifetime's work," she'd say. "Remember to do the work you can for those you love."

Almost a century later, Steve does just that.

[The story wherein Steve draws comics for Bucky to help him recover his memory. Through a series of events, the issues are leaked, and Steve finds himself reviving the Captain America comics. He still isn't sure how that happened.]

- If You're Loved By Someone (You're Never Rejected); Teen, 9.4k

You’re fifteen when you realize why you stare at Bucky’s lips more than normal when he laughs and when he says your name. You lean into his shoulder when you walk next to him and when you’re sick you don’t fight off his soft hands. You tease him, he teases back and being around him is so easy you forget what it was like to live without him. You can’t remember life pre-Bucky and it scares you.

- Unusual Weather; Explicit, 8.7k

Bucky’s been at the Avengers Tower for three weeks before he finally gives in to Steve’s gentle coaxing and Stark’s cheerful waving of fistfuls of circuits, and lets them scan the arm.

It doesn’t go well.

- this city bleeds its aching heart; Explicit, 35k

The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.

- Good Boy; Explicit, 13k

Bucky is still adjusting to life with the Avengers, and Steve is willing to do whatever it takes to make him feel comfortable. Increasingly, though, what seems to make him comfortable is strangely intimate.

Surprise, Steve! You're a gentle dom and Bucky wants to be your pretty pet!

- Brooklyn; Teen, 8.8k

"Captain America, what's your stance on gay marriage?"

Everyone knows that, by now. Everyone but Bucky.

[dayseternal-blog]

If you ever finish answering all of yours awaiting asks...

45 questions for you 👀

https://myaekingheart.tumblr.com/post/650107314353897472/fic-writer-ask-game

Lolllll BADLUCKBREBIS, you are so funny.

Inspiration and Reading Asks:

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

It looks like I started writing in 2017. I've been reflecting recently on how there are so many regularly active writers now compared to in 2017-2018. It was the tail-end of some of my fave writer's activity within fandom. Utsus was posting less and less. The Tumblr NaruHina fandom seemed to disappear, a whole community of writers left for other things (matchaball, nekomamoru, magmawrites, cherryjutsu, spyder-m, tenney-shoes, eliphya, among others). 2018 was a very quiet year, but! I avidly read katarinahime and bunnyhoodlum's works! In 2019, quirrrky restarted things with NaruHina Week!

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

Recently I’m primarily a reader!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Because there's so many writers now!!!!!!!!

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

Yeah, let’s list them.  “A Special Friend” by agitosgirl inspired “Nightdreams.  “Medicine” by @grimmjowkurosakidrake​ inspired “White Lilies.  “Torch Song” by @mmmbuttery inspired “About You.”  The language in “Unless the World Were to End” by @bunny-hoodlum​ inspired the language in “That was the plan.”  “In Between Drinks” by @peppercornpress inspired “In Between Drinks NH.”

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

“Operation: Bring Home Naruto” by Dragonwannabe - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata's been assigned the mission of getting Naruto back home safely after his last dangerous assignment. But can she handle the undercover identity as his girlfriend that she’d been given without revealing her true feelings for him?

“The Mission” by Lunawraythe - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. It wasn't that Hinata never expected to work with Naruto, just never on a mission quite like this.

“The Loving Type” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A few years have passed since the Fourth Shinobi War, in which...Rookie Nine steadily advances in rank. Naruto gets engaged. Hinata leaves Konoha. And Kakashi schemes for days.

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

ahhh.  I do have quite a few pet peeves.  If the fic is Canon-Compliant or Canon-Divergent, I expect Naruto and Hinata to behave like Japanese people.  Say what you want, but the Naruto Universe is definitely Japanese in my book.  So that means no shoes in the house.  Nothing rattles me more than reading Hinata taking her sandals off before climbing into bed.  Like, what?  she was wearing her outdoor shoes indoors this whole time??

mmm... another pet peeve is when the writer describes Hinata in a kimono, but it sounds like an American Halloween costume, like the slutty version, instead of an actual kimono.

mmm... and the other big pet peeve I have is when it’s Hinata’s first time eating ramen because Naruto is showing her the wonders of ramen.  lol.  why.  how.  in what world would a Japanese person make it to their teenage years without ever eating ramen.

I have a bunch of other little pet peeves regarding Japanese culture in fanfics.  But in general, it doesn’t stop me from reading the fic if I'm already in the middle of it.  I’ll continue reading it and will probably recommend it to other people anyway. If I can tell based on the summary, then it's not for me, and I don't read it. If this makes anyone feel nervous about writing fanfiction, that's not my intention! I would also be happy to be a sensitivity reader if necessary.

6. How do you find new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction?

I primarily read fanfics on AO3 and ffnet.  I find new ones by constantly checking the Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto tag on AO3 or looking into a writer’s favorites list on ffnet.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics?

Short fics.

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like?

I reblog pretty often. I don't comment as often as I used to😕 I used to comment on every fic I liked.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

Uhh?? Idk. I think recently the writing group here is pretty tight, everyone seems to know everyone.

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Naruto fandom and NaruHina.

Fanfiction Writing Asks:

11. How do you come up with your fic titles?

I usually take it from words used in the story or from the prompt.

12. Tell the author your favorite fic title of theirs (not the fic, strictly title). Author: what’s your favorite title you’ve come up with and why?

I think...maybe "Tell Me of Forevers" or "Nightdreams." I like those because they aren't taken word-for-word directly from the story, but touch on a theme in the story.

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic?

Yes, I outline. They wouldn't get a headache, I think. It's usually just a summary.

14. Do you have a personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not?

Nope. I didn't know people do that.

15. Tell the author your favorite fic of theirs. What’s your (the author’s) favorite fic you’ve written?

My favorite fic continues to be "It's No Secret."

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching?

Yes, I do. I've done historical and folktale research for "Little Samurai." I did area/location research for "Last Chance." I did historical research for "About You." I did fairy tale research for "Catskin." I did a ton of astronomy research for "The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl." And I did lighting research for "Inspo." I go pretty deep.

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

I don't. I usually have something else I need to do or I go to bed.

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie?

I actually think I can finish all of mine if I just try.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

I always edit before posting to AO3. Anything I post directly on Tumblr might not be edited.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Posting!

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Starting a new chapter.

22. Do you take fic requests? If so, for what characters and why?

On occasion. If someone sends me a request, I'll think about writing it. Sometimes I do write and post it, sometimes I leave them in my drafts for a better day.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

From what I already have posted, probably friends-to-lovers, secret relationship/forbidden love, or high school au. I don't think I have an intentional favorite.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

Public humiliation / public degradation.

25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist.

No, not usually.

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing?

Tumblr feed, all the pictures to scroll through mindlessly.

27. Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random?

lol, whatever is fine.

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?

Well, pressure to update is not a big deal to me. I do this for fun, so I don't think I unnecessarily pressure myself too much. With negative comments, I don't get too many of those, and I think I do my best to avoid situations where I might get negative feedback.

29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)? Did you enjoy it?

Yeah, I like the events. My favorite was NH2020, the year-long one last year. I also enjoyed the Secret Santa last year since @badluckbrebis was my giftee.

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

haha😈

Ecstasy slides through his veins, blooming over his mind, cocooning him in pleasant sensations, cum shooting out in eager twitches against hot, milking flesh.

31. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

Naruto Uzumaki, always.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?

Top 3 faves in order:

That was the plan: "She shifts in his arms, and cloth and cleavage come pillowing up to his face, and he’s certain that she’s scooped from the same puffy stuff his adolescent daydreams were made of."

Tell Me of Forevers: "What he wouldn’t do to inspire every blush, every smile of hers for an eternity when such moments already only speak “forever” to him."

White Lilies: "Whether at his feet, in his eyes, ears, mind, if not reaching his heart, she never landed anywhere. (It’s okay.)"

I consider "White Lilies" to have my technically best writing, so it was kind of hard to choose just one line from that fic! But I decided that one's my favorite line from the whole story.

33. What do you like writing better: one shots or multi-chapter stuff?

One-shots.

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?

A lot of my life experiences are in my writing. Hmm, I think readers probably think I'm...hmm...either empathetic or really perverted?

35. How much has writing fic changed your life?

I spend a lot less time on real-life social media than before.

36. Are there any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been part of?

I'm kind of embarrassed of "Honeymoon at the Hot Springs" lol. It's fine.

37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you don’t have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write.

My current WIP is that A/B/O fic I started for February Smut Month Prompts: Sweet as Candy or Love Bites. I'm going to title it "Sweet As," and it'll be about how Naruto and Hinata become Alpha/Omega mates. It's really kinky, really smutty, and totally what I would want to read.

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?

uhh???? a 1?? I've never once thought of my writing process as chaotic. Ahh, then I think of bunnyhoodlum's multiple drafts for the same chapter, and I realize that there exist types of writing processes that I would not be able to handle...

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

My smut.

40. How did you come up with the idea for [x fic]?

41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on tumblr, most hits/kudos on ao3)?

Idk about Tumblr,,, maybe White Lilies got the most attention here. My most popular fic is Nightdreams on AO3.

42. Asker: pick three of the author’s works. Author: rank them 1 (the best) - 3 (the worst) based on whatever criteria you want - this could be something totally random that isn’t quality related (like simply ranking fics based on how many trains appear in them) - have fun!

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember.

I will always remember how people congratulated me for finishing White Lilies😭 Also, when peppercornpresses made that FIRST art of my story, I just, I just stared at it all day.

44. Rant about something writing related.

hmmm, I don't feel like ranting about anything. I just recently ranted about my pet peeves above.

45. Fic specific questions - if you have any weird questions about specific works, here’s your shot to ask them!

I did them all! Nice questions.

[glowcrizzle]

Today is the 1 year AO3 anniversary of Slow Show by @mia-ugly. I am beyond grateful that this experience (and it is an experience) has existed in my life for a year and felt it needed commemorating. 🎂  

I’m not a creator but I made this playlist for me, so I could take the fic with me, have it with my eyes closed, while driving -- you get it. Today seems like an appropriate day to share it. 

It’s a. It’s a lot. Excessive you might even say. Tumblr will only give you the first 100 songs in this, so, Spotify will fulfill you (or overwhelm you). If you hit my username on the playlist, there are separate playlists for each chapter. 

This is also on Apple Music, if that’s your jam, just hit me up and I’ll send you the link. 

🎉 Happy Slow Show Day!! 🎉 

13 pages of track-lists and excerpts below the cut. Godspeed! 💙

Key:

Songs from Mia’s soundtrack

Songs from the Fic

.

--Title--

Slow Show – The National 

_

--Prequel--

Loverman – Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 

Devils – Say Hi 

_

--Chapter 1--

Here I Go Again – Whitesnake 

_

bad guy – Billie Eilish 

-trash a set and shag your husband

_

Something About You (ODESZA Remix) – Hayden James 

-what it would take for Avery Fell to let his guard down

_

A Little Wicked – Valerie Broussard 

-The handkerchief in his hand is now stained purple

_

You Light Me Up In the Dark – The Hounds Below

-His hair catches the light like a halo, making him look more of an angel than ever.

_

Lazarus – David Bowie 

-This could be a problem

_

--Chapter 2--

Unsteady – X Ambassadors

-much easier than talking about the way his heartbeat is still racing

_

Heart of a Dog – The Kills

-Call me darling again.

_

The Twilight Hour - Still Corners

-Looked across the set and thought, Ah fuck me. I’m in love with him.

_

God’s Mistake – Tears for Fears 

-Avery: He’s closed his eyes again, mouth going flat and still.

_

Lounge Act – Nirvana

-Tell her all the terrible things I want to do to her husband

_

Transatlanticism – Death Cab for Cutie

-There’s a strange urgency tonight, though, and Crowley can guess why.

_

Do I Wanna Know? – Arctic Monkeys

-What could it hurt?

_

Clueless – The Marias 

-“Better - yeah. ‘S late.”

_

Motel – Meg Myers

-The hotel room is another disaster

_

--Chapter 3--

Alone in a Room – Asking Alexandria 

-“I’m having a moment here!”

_

Since You’ve Been Around – Rosie Thomas 

-makes Crowley feel like he can breathe again

_

Home Again – The Disco Biscuits 

-It’s starting to feel like home again

_

Every Other Freckle – alt-J

-Perfect. Ridiculous and impossible and perfect.

_

Something For the Longing – The Orchids 

_

As Far As I Can See – Phantogram 

-it’s been a really, really long time

_

Sinister Kid – The Black Keys 

-“Mothering buggering shit-”

_

All These Things That I’ve Done – The Killers

-Crowley fists one of his hands against his forehead, shuts his eyes tightly.

_

--Chapter 4--

I Like Me Better – Lauv

-I liked the outline of your face under the stagelights

_

I Do This for You (ft. Marlene) – Giorgio Moroder

-“Let me see what I can do. About your precious Hamlet.”

_

The Longing – Imelda May 

-Avery POV: “Look at him like - like - you can’t let him see the way you look at him.”

_

Just a Man – Los Lobos

-Avery POV: like he’s being led into battle and not onto a set to do the job he loves

_

World In My Eyes – Depeche Mode 

-wants to make that bastard purr

_

Tired (ft. Gavin James) – Alan Walker

-Let me be a magpie for you

_

Blow My Mind – The Benjamin Gate 

-Avery: “I know you now.”

_

Breathe You in My Dreams – Trixie Whitley

-Crowley’s seen that expression on Avery’s face in his dreams

_

Love Me Like That (ft. Carly Rae Jepsen) – The Knocks

-What have I done to - oh. Oh. Right.

_

Like Real People Do - Hozier

-“Sure, angel, what- whatever.”

_

Clearly – Grace VanderWaal 

-Crowley waits for the rest of the night.

_

Gwendel – PeelsDeen 

-Az sits in the back seat, away from Crowley. Alone.

_

Now I’m In It – HAIM

-Avery POV: It’s a look like an open grave, a look like desire tempered with grief…

_

Flesh for Fantasy – Billy Idol

-Crowley isn’t lonely for the rest of the night

_

--Chapter 5 (Avery POV)--

Smalltown Boy – Rosborough 

-1978, Hartlepool

_

Bright Horses – Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

-1986, Newcastle Upon Tyne

_

The Runner – Foals

-1991, Bristol

_

Shock To Your System – Tegan and Sara

-Tracy: “Why d’you let them?”

_

Cracking Codes – Andrew Bird

-“Forever, of course. I’ll never -”

_

Colour me In – Damien Rice

-Their fingers - just touch. Slightly.

_

I’m Not in Love – 10cc

-Less to regret by not ever speaking of it.

_

--Chapter 6--

Electric Current – Lower Dens 

-“I’ll let you know when you find it.”

_

Guess I Miss(ed) You – The Daylights

-Keep talking, keep him here a little while longer.

_

Reflecting Light – Sam Phillips 

-“don’t meet his eyes like that, it looks like it’s a lead-in to a kiss”

_

King of Pain – The Police

-a good reminder of the kind of life he’s got to live

_

I Wanna Get Better – The Bleachers

-and Avery’s gaze is so gentle it hurts a bit

_

Feather – X Ambassadors 

-Avery: “Someone has to”

_

Darker Side - Jonny Lang

-Avery: “Oh - good Lord.”

_

Firestone (Acoustic) – Conrad Sewell 

-“Will you show me?”

_

Velvet Gloves and Spit - Timber Timbre 

-“Anthony - ”

_

Wrong – Depeche Mode

-Avery: “I have to go.”

_

F**k it I love you – Lana Del Rey 

-“Not your fault, angel”

_

--Chapter 7--

Somebody to Love – Queen 

_

Heavenly – Cigarettes After Sex 

-“I fucking still.”

_

Will Do - TV on the Radio

-“You too. I’ll see you there.”

_

Monster – Colours

-No wonder Avery ran off like a thief after a heist

_

Swallow My Pride – Ramones 

-“I feel fucking ill about it.”

_

I Was Wrong - The Oh Hellos

-Avery: “I’m the one who has to apologize, not you.”

_

The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret – Queens of the Stone Age

-Avery: “Please don’t tell anyone”

_

Wait for Me – Kings of Leon

-Avery: “Right now, I’m just - a bit in pieces.”

_

Don’t Stay – X Ambassadors 

-“You can - stay or leave or - whatever you like.”

_

The Moth - Aimee Mann

-Avery’s eyes meet his, and then it’s like a car accident

_

Red Door – Julien Baker 

-“I can - I can wait longer.”

_

Can’t Pretend - Tom Odell

-“I wasn’t apologizing for that. This morning. I won’t.”

_

Come Down to Me – Saving Jane

-Avery: “You were wonderful”

_

Secret Smile – Semisonic

-And if sometimes he catches Az watching him between takes

_

I Want More - KALEO

-Az laces both of their hands together, stares at them.

_

I’m Gonna Do My Thing – Royal Deluxe 

-“So don’t tell me what will hurt me. I know what hurts.”

_

--Chapter 8--

Perfect Day – Lou Reed 

_

Remember to Breathe – Sturgil Simpson

-“You can’t sit in the car all night you absolute nightmare”

_

Wild Love (Acoustic) – James Bay

-The two of them stare at each other and then both look away awkwardly.

_

Seasons – Future Islands

-finally, fucking finally, he’s exactly where he wants to be

_

Closer – Tegan and Sara

-Avery: “if you like”

_

I Want All of You – The Verve Pipe 

-“If you think I can survive this without looking at you -”

_

Use Me – Miguel

-whatever he sees in Crowley’s face makes him come to some sort of decision

_

So Much Love – Depeche Mode

-Love, he said love

_

Don’t Be Scared, I Love You – Bill Ryder-Jones

-I know you, Crowley wants to say, but doesn’t.

_

Become My Dream – Silya & The Sailors 

-“Even if - anything, angel.”

_

I Belong In Your Arms – Chairlift

-For nearly two weeks it goes like this.

_

Faster - Matt Nathanson

-“You’re going to fucking kill me, angel -”

_

Come Together (feat. Sivu) – LAUREL

-In case you think they don’t wake up together

_

The High – Kelela

-Az has pulled a stool over to the edge of the tub

_

Just in Time – Valerie June

-Then Az’s hand is on his shoulder, turning him around.

_

I Can’t Take It – Tegan and Sara

-Avery: “Don’t rush, just - like this.”

_

Like This – Jake Scott

-Avery murmurs and it takes Crowley back to their first kiss

_

Terrible Love – The National

-Flinches away from him.

_

Help You Out - Emarosa

-And he nods.

_

--Chapter 9--

I Remember You – Ramones

-The first person Crowley loved was a liar.

_

Brighter Skies - Race Banyon

-As if they were cut with a jigsaw, as if they were meant to fit.

_

Not Tonight – Tegan and Sara

-When they reach the edge of the city, his hand slides out of Crowley’s.

_

As Sure as I Am – Crowded House

-So Crowley kisses him.

_

A Promise – Miriam Makeba

-And for awhile, he believed her.

_

Mistaken for Strangers – The National

-They’re only two small words, but they still make Crowley’s teeth ache.

_

Hey, That’s No Way To Say Goodbye – Leonard Cohen

-“Good-“ Swallow, speak, leave.

_

The Fear – Pulp

-Crowley should have been smarter this time. He really should have been.

_

Take Me – Leela James 

-“I’d like you to close your blinds.”

_

Whenever You Want It – Clare Maguire 

-“What do we do now?”

_

At My Weakest – James Arthur 

-“It will be.”

_

Komm zurück - Fotos

-For years and years and years, nothing did.

_

Come on Get Higher – Matt Nathanson

-their feet sliding in the tub

_

Lay Down – Sarah Proctor

-I want to wake up with you.

_

Sort Of - Ingrid Michaelson

-Why is my heart breaking?

_

Fairytale of New York – The Pogues 

-Just pump that shit straight into his veins.

_

What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve? – Ella Fitzgerald

-Avery: “What do you think?”

_

We’re Gonna Have A Real Good Time Together – The Velvet Underground

-“You want to grab dinner somewhere?” 

_

Hiding – IAN SWEET

-Crowley stops walking. Looks at Az in the darkness.

_

Romance Dawn – Radkey

-A slice of light cuts through the darkness.

_

Crown of Love – Arcade Fire

-Crowley feels like the world has never been darker, and his heart will never stop beating

_

Devil’s Backbone – The Civil Wars

-He thought he was ready for this conversation, but at the sight of Az’s face, his throat has gotten too tight to speak.

_

Sinners – Lauren Aquilina 

-“If this all goes down in flames, if it all falls apart - we can go off together.”

_

Please Forgive Me (Song of the Crow) – William Fitzsimmons 

-Avery: “It’s over. I’m - I’m so sorry.”

_

Start a War – The National

-He twitches and trips and yet somehow manages to walk away without falling over.

_

Broken – Daley

-And this soft heartache was somehow the sharpest of them all.

_

--Chapter 10 (Avery POV)--

Daily Battles - Thom Yorke & Flea

-He tries to remember these things - but the background is still a chorus of beeping machines. There’s nowhere he can be but here. 

_

Everybody Wants You - Red Hearse

-Go out and surround himself with people much more interesting and available than Avery. Better people, certainly.

_

A Thin Line – Blackchords

-But still - roads not taken, and other fun middle-aged spirals.

_

My Own Soul’s Warning - The Killers

-When was the last time someone asked Avery that? When was the last time he asked himself?

_

Who Am I - NEEDTOBREATHE

-I miss you.  There. It didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. 

_

Wait for Me - Jack Curley 

-What he wants to say is ‘don’t find someone else. Not yet. You and your black leather and your cut-glass profile: you’re gorgeous and God knows other people want you.’ 

_

Coming & Going – Amaal 

-“Two ships passing in the night,” he says quietly.  Then he takes a swallow of wine, lets it roll down his throat. “If you were here -” 

_

Iron - Woodkid

-Crowley leaves him there, pressed against the wet brick wall.  Crowley leaves him there.  Crowley steps between Avery and a camera, and then leaves him.

_

The Greatest Bastard - Damien Rice

-He can’t be the person that kicks Crowley into the ashes again. He can’t hurt him like this, and Avery’s going to hurt him - he already has. 

_

No Right to Love You – Rhys Lewis

-He deserves someone like - like Daniel. Deserves to be loved in the daylight.

_

If It’s Hurting You - Robbie Williams

-Time is a tricky business when you’re dying slowly; it skips like a flat stone on a quiet lake.

_

Happy For You – Gayle 

-But surely - surely he’s allowed just this much. Just one message, just so Crowley knows that - that he’s happy for him. That Avery is so happy.

_

I See You (ICU) - Phoebe Bridgers

-When Avery sees Crowley on the red carpet, it feels like the sudden remembrance of a lovely dream.

_

Once In My Life - The Decemberists

-Crowley: “I know there’ve been some - hard times. That’s - that is what it is. But for me - it’s been a privilege. A dream. So.” He nods and nods and nods again. “Thank you.”

_

Coming Down - Dum Dum Girls

-Tracy: “But I wasn’t. I was hurting you. This whole time, Az.”  She shakes her head, wiping frantically at tears that won’t stop falling. “He loves you.”

_

I Don’t Know Anything – Little Voice Cast

-He’s afraid of finding out that all this time - he was doing the wrong thing anyway. He’s afraid that Anthony Crowley will never talk to him again.

_

Sweet Sour - Band of Skulls

-"And you're fired"

_

Heart Attack - Devarrow

-The sun is still rising when Avery gets out of the car, closes the door behind him. Though some of the roads have changed, his feet still know the way down to the docks of his youth. He was never a sailor, but the shoreline is familiar as a childhood sweetheart, as a long lost love. 

_

Landslide - Robyn Sherwell

-He’s alone, and he’s nearly fifty years old. He could get on a ship, he could throw himself into the sea. There’s no one holding him back anymore. 

_

All I Can - Sharon van Etten

-And he knows. He knows.

_

--Chapter 11-- 

Salvation - The Strumbellas

- there’s a moment where he swears he sees a young idiot in black standing in the crowd. Red hair gelled up into spikes, black t-shirt full of holes and safety pins. A young man who has no idea how much he’s about to lose.

_

Soldier - Fleurie

-And he’s still fucking here.

_

Easier – Mansionair

-Then he gets the fuck above ground and he calls Beez (oh great, they’re his emotional-support-asshole now. That’s healthy).

_

Deep End – Holly Humberstone  

-“I brought you cheese,” Beez says, and Crowley starts crying.

_

Falling Short – Lapsley

-For the next few days, he lets his stupid body do what it needs to do to keep himself upright.

_

Chariot (Stripped Version) - Gavin DeGraw

-Shit, this was a bad bad idea. 

_

Quiet Light - The National

-There’s a text from Az later that night, and his name on Crowley’s phone makes him feel like jumping off a cliff.

_

All That We Had is Lost - Postiljonen

-He’s not allowed to be in love with that man anymore. Wasn’t ever, really.

_

Heal - Tom Odell

-It makes a rather hysterical laugh well out of his throat. Anthony fucking Crowley. You are still alive. 

_

Let Me Go - HAIM 

-Crowley tries to ignore the soft, injured expression on the other man’s face as he turns away.

_

A Beginning Song - The Decemberists

-“What’s more frightening than having a choice?”

_

The Spark - William Prince

-And he likes to think he would have just burned the world to ashes with the power of his love, would have said fuck everyone, I choose you – but who knows. 

_

Sharp Scratch - The Slow Show

-So stupid, I know, and I’m - sorry, I still love you and I’m tryin’ to stop and I will I just - needed to tell you that. I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Just miss you.

_

Beautiful & Brutal – Plested

-Crowley moves without thinking. Falls like a stagelight, glass everywhere. He walks forward and is kissing Az before the door has even been pulled shut.

_

Bad Chemistry - Fake Shark

-“I’ve been - thinking about this -” Az says between darts of his tongue against Crowley’s overheated skin.

_

All We Do – Oh Wonder

-“But I - I love you. And I can’t -  hide. It hurts too much.”

_

Broken Strings - James Morrison (ft Nelly Furtado)

-“I wouldn’t survive it. That way it was. I wouldn’t.”

_

Stole the Show – Parson James

-But even on their distant shores, Crowley and Az don’t stop looking at each other. It feels like an ending. Maybe it is one. Not a happy ending, but not a bad one either.

_

Level Up - Vienna Teng

-excerpt from Anthony Crowley: Out of the shadows, under the spotlight

_

The Wire (Alternate Version) – Patrick Droney 

-Avery: “I’m rather in - in love with you.”

_

Sweet Thing - Van Morrison

-“You can stay at my place. If you like.”

_

Falling in Love - Cigarettes After Sex

-“I love you. I’ve missed you, and I love you, and I want you -”

_

Stay - Cat Power

-He watches the slow flicker of awareness in Avery’s blue eyes. The curve of his mouth into a shade of smile that Crowley’s never seen before.

_

Freedom - George Michael

-“To the world.”

_

--Chapter 12--

Banks - NEEDTOBREATHE

-What he wasn’t used to was bringing someone else down with him, and jail would be a bloody blessing compared to seeing Az grey-faced and staring out windows, or that one time Crowley’s pretty sure the man was crying in the bathroom, trying to swallow down the sound so that Crowley didn’t notice (he clenches his hands into fists just thinking about it).

_

Black Mambo - Glass Animals

-“It’ll have to be.” Crowley drops to his knees. “There’s a lot of ground to cover.” 

_

Florets - Grace VanderWaal

-Crowley can let his fingers curl against Az’s palm, can watch him open as a flame, not caring who notices.

_

Sight of the Sun - fun.

-That this longing won’t destroy him, and won’t destroy Az either. It’s not a shovel for burying Crowley alive - it’s a spade for planting things.

_

Pale Blue Eyes - The Velvet Underground

-Az drops his hand onto Crowley’s knee (“What is this song? I rather like it.”).

_

Only Everything (Acoustic) – Quinn Lewis

-“It’s nice to have someone make it for you, right? Sometimes,” Crowley says softly, too much love in his throat and in his hands. It’s hard to breathe around it, especially when Avery is looking at him.

_

The Book of Love - The Magnetic Fields

-“You bought a cottage for us.” Crowley is an animal being taught to speak through scraps of meat and electric shocks. “This cottage.”

_

Say You’ll Be Mine – Christopher Cross

-Avery: “But if you wanted -” Fuck, there are tears in Avery’s eyes. “If you want. I’d like to call you my husband. I’d like to say ‘let me ask my husband,’ or ‘I brought my husband with me’ or ‘my husband won a BAFTA’.”

_

Anthem - Leonard Cohen

-Their broken edges match. And somehow, the light still shines through.

_

Precious Love – James Morrison

-When the light catches them both, they shine. And so do you. So do we.

_

Good Man (acoustic) - Josh Ritter

_

_

If you made it this far...wow, hi hello. So, this is ours and my musical exposure is limited, if you’ve got a better song for an excerpt, feel free to shoot it over, more than happy for this to be a living changeable thing. 🤡 

[blue-bird-on-a-wire]

Beroya (Bounty Hunter)

Part 4 of the Gar Cuyir Yaim series

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,664

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x (Y/n) with she/her pronouns

Warnings: Jabba’s slave culture, mentioned kidnapping/child kidnapping, insecure (Y/n), hinted/implied abuse of (Y/n), hinted/implied child abuse

Summary: Paz takes (Y/n) to Verith.

Updates: Every Tuesday at 5:30 pm MT

A/N: Hello! You can also find this fic on Ao3 under B1ue_Bird_0n_A_Wire. Please feel free to give me feedback, as I don’t have a beta reader and often miss spelling mistakes. If you feel there need to be more warnings/other warnings, feel free to DM me! 😊 Enjoy!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Master-list

“-op! Stop it! Get it off! It hurts!” screamed a child’s voice.

“Keep quiet!”

There was the sound of skin on skin - someone had just been slapped.

“If I hear another word outta that mouth, that lip won’t be the only thing bleedin’! You’ll wear that collar and you’ll like it!”

A whimper. The sound of heavy breathing - shuddering, if you will.

Heavy footsteps could be heard walking away before something slammed shut. Perhaps a door of some sort.

��I-I wanna go home,” cried the child’s voice. “I want my aliit.”

“Paz?”

The audio recording immediately stopped.

The big blue Mandalorian sat hunched over something in the cockpit. I could see his shoulders tense at the sound of my voice. He reached for a rag at his feet and covered whatever was in front of him.

“Paz, what was that?” I asked, trying to peek around his body.

“It’s nothing,” Paz said, standing to full height as he turned to face me. “I didn’t hear you coming up the ladder.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I wanted to ask where we’re going.”

Paz’s helmet tilted down and his shoulders visibly relaxed. “First we’re going to stop at Verith, so we can refuel and get you some clothes.”

I felt my chest tighten but in that sort of warm good way. Here I was worried about asking for undergarments, and Paz had already been planning to get me my own clothes.

I never had my own clothes before. Outfits were always passed around between Jabba’s slaves. We never owned anything for ourselves. It was all meant to be shared or borrowed.

I smiled. “Can I stay here with you?” I asked, taking look at the wide window that showed off the passing stars. “You have a pretty view up here, and in all honestly I’m not too used to the quiet. It was always noisy at Jabba’s. Even when he was asleep he would snore.”

Paz quietly laughed. Actually laughed. His head leaned back a bit and his shoulders shook.

“Of course, (Y/n),” Paz said, gesturing to the co-pilot chair. “How did you sleep? You were in there for a while.”

“I was?” I asked as I sat down. “Your bed is really nice. I’ve never slept on something so comfortable before.”

Paz shoved whatever was under the rag to the side with his boot, beneath the ship’s controls. “You flatter me. That bed is stiff, no need to sugar coat it.”

“I… I wasn’t,” I said, turning my gaze to the stars.

Paz sat down in the pilot’s chair. He stayed silent, but his helmet’s visor didn’t look away from me.

I watched the galaxy fly past us. I wondered how many people were out there. What kind of lives were they living?

What kind of life had this Mandalorian lived?

“Paz, can I ask you a question?”

“Hmm.”

I assumed that meant yes. “You said you know me- or you knew me when we were children. But I can’t remember much of anything before Jabba.”

Paz nodded his head.

“... What was our childhood like?”

Paz’s helmet tilted upward as though he was thinking. His chair let out a creaking sound as he leaned back into it.

“Our childhood,” Paz said. He looked back at me, just as I was now looking at him. “... It was carefree. I was about seven when I first met you. Tinny little thing you were. Only about a year or two old, I think.”

I couldn’t help but picture a small boy wearing oversized Mandalorian armor, peering over a basket at an even smaller baby.

“I swore the creed not long after, so you wouldn’t remember what I looked like without the armor. I didn’t pay much attention to you at first. But we got older, and you learned to walk. Started following me everywhere,” I could hear the smile in his voice. “I had to watch out for you when I trained. Elbowed you a few times on accident. I didn’t know you were behind me. Made me become more aware of my surroundings…”

Paz lifted an elbow to his armrest, resting the chin of his helmet on his hand. “You liked playing games, but your favorite was this hiding game. I would count to something like ten while you hid somewhere in the covert. Then I would find you, and you would count to a number before you found me.”

I smiled, “That sounds like a pretty fun game.”

Paz nodded his head, “You would start laughing whenever I came close to your hiding spot. I never pretended I couldn’t hear you. Thought it would make you a better warrior that way.” A pause. “Well… Sometimes I let you get away with it,” he admitted.

I wondered if he was this kind with other children as well. Did he still play with them when they asked?

“... It was happy,” Paz said.

Happy. At least for a while, I suppose.

We sat in silence for a little longer, and my gaze fell to the blur of stars through the cockpit’s window.

Paz never turned away from me. He watched intently, but I didn’t feel as threatened by it. I couldn’t even see his eyes but I just had this feeling that his stare was one of curiosity or reminiscing. Instinct could be crazy that way.

“It’s good to see there is still some of that child left in you,” Paz whispered, as though he didn’t want to disturb the air in the room.

“Hmm?” I asked, still looking outside.

“You always did love the stars.”

I smiled but made no move to look at him.

“... I remember looking at the stars,” I said. “I remember a dark sky with tall trees. I had to squint my eyes to look past the branches… Or, at least I think I did.”

Paz seemed to hold his breath.

“...Just little white dots spread throughout the sky… I haven’t seen the sky since I was brought to Jabba. I never thought I would see it again, but then you showed up,” I turned to look at Paz. “You set me free so I could see the stars.”

How many of these stars had changed since I last saw them? How many had died or were new?

I looked down at my hands, playing with the excessively long sleeves. “I can’t remember much because I don’t allow myself to… Or rather, I wasn’t allowed to. I could keep my name but nothing else.”

A pause.

Of course, he didn’t want to hear about it. Why would he-

“What was your childhood like? With Jabba,” Paz asked.

Or maybe he did.

“Boring. Kept me on my toes I guess,” I said. “I didn’t have friends because the only ones I could freely talk to were other slaves. But, none of them stayed around or lived long enough to have a relationship with me… In all honesty, I don’t even know how I survived for so long… Maybe I’m just really good at keeping my head down, or maybe I’m just lucky.”

“I daydreamed a lot. Made the day go by faster. When I was bussing tables I got to overhear smugglers and bounty hunters talking about the things from their travels. I learned about-“

Well, I suppose I re-learned or rediscovered, or-

“- I mean. I guess I heard about Mandalorians… I became obsessed with them. I used to have dreams about Mandalorians storming Jabba’s palace and taking me away to be a foundling.”

I smiled, glancing up at Paz.

“I suppose that in a way, those dreams came true.”

“But you weren’t bussing tables when I showed up,” Paz pointed out.

I felt the heat rise to my face and I let out a nervous laugh. “Um, I may have had a bad encounter with a bounty hunter. This guy was trying to hit on me-“

Paz straightened up in his chair.

“-and I wasn’t having it, so he convinced Jabba that I would make a good dancer. And everyone knows that dancers are dead within a week or so. Which is why he-“

“Where is he?” Paz interrupted.

“Oh! He’s dead. Jabba fed him to the rancor.”

Paz almost seemed disappointed. “That’s unfortunate. I would have liked to kill him myself.”

“Oh?” I asked. “How come?”

“No one can look at you or treat you like a piece of meat. Not as long as I’m around,” Paz explained. “He’s lucky it was a rancor that killed him and not me.”

I felt my heart flutter. No one had ever expressed this kind of protectiveness over me. Not in a million years did I think anyone could.

“You humor me,” I said, my voice quiet as I looked away from Paz.

“No, Sarad. Just being honest.”

A red light started flashing on the ship’s control panel, and Paz turned around in his chair to press a few buttons and flip a switch. “We’re exiting hyperspace now. You might want to strap in.”

Strap in? What did he mean by-

The ship jerked as it came to a slow. I flew out of my seat and onto the floor with a yelp.

Oh. That’s what he meant by strap in.

Embarrassed, I scurried back to the co-pilot’s seat hoping that Paz hadn’t noticed.

He definitely had. His shoulders were shaking as though he was trying to suppress a laugh.

Oh boy.

Looking out the window, I let out an audible gasp. A planet, covered in patches of green and brown with huge white clouds swirling about. It was absolutely breathtaking.

“Welcome to Verith,” Paz said as he took the ship into the planet’s atmosphere.

Drawing closer, I could see the outline of tall mountains covered in little green fuzzy things. The closer the got, I soon realized those were actually really tall trees. Little towns and cities were scattered about between the foliage. I could see colorful banners and flags waving in the wind.

I had never seen such breathtaking scenery.

~ ~ ~

As Paz lowered the ramp of the ship, I felt excitement bubble up within me. Tatooine had been so dry and dusty. From the looks of it this planet was the complete opposite.

I followed behind Paz, taking a quick look around.

This hanger was huge. There were so many people running about with tools and dirty faces from working on ships all day.

A teal twi’lik woman walked up to us, sparing a glance at my oversized clothing before meeting my eyes.

She was beautiful in her gray jumpsuit, even with black marks smudged across her cheek.

“How can I help you?” she asked, looking between Paz and I.

“Fuel,” Paz stated, handing over a small pouch. “We won’t be long.”

The woman nodded and accepted the money with ease before walking toward the ship.

“Let’s get going. The sooner we can get back the better,” Paz said.

“Why is that?” I asked as we walked out of the hanger.

I had never seen so much vegetation. There were trees everywhere I turned, and bushes scattered all about. Green, string-like things were hanging onto buildings. I could feel the compact dirt beneath my toes. It was cool and fairly moist. Nothing like the rough sand on Tatooine.

“This planet is crowded. Far too many people for my taste,” Paz stated.

I smiled. “Are you not around people very much?”

Paz let out an amused huff. “Not large crowds like this.”

I could see what he meant. I felt like I needed to hold onto Paz so I wouldn’t lose him. There were so many people running around all packed together. I could hardly hear over all the commotion.

Soon enough, Paz led me to a marketplace littered with different vendors.

They shouted as people walked by, yelling about deals or asking questions about what people had or didn’t have.

It was funny watching people either get sucked into a conversation and subsequently buying something, or get irritated at the vendor’s efforts.

I could sit somewhere and watch the comings and goings of this little marketplace all day.

“Hey! Miss!”

One of the vendors reached out from his stand to touch my shoulder.

I yelped in surprise and jumped back, accidentally bumping into Paz.

“Ya know what would look good on you?” He asked, holding up a dangly-looking collar in his other hand.

That was an awfully sparkly collar. It didn’t look practical at all. I could probably rip that thing from my neck if I wanted to.

A gloved hand aggressively swatted this man’s arm away from my body.

“Not interested,” Paz stated, placing one hand on my back to guide me forward.

“I wasn’ talkin’ ta you!” The vendor called. “That pretty lady ya got there-”

I felt Paz’s hand drop as he turned his head toward the man.

His helmet tilted downward almost like he was glaring.

“Alright! Alright! Sheesh,” the vendor waved his hands and looked out into the crowd for someone else to bother.

Wait a minute. Why did he suddenly stop?

“How did you do that?” I asked Paz as we continued walking down the street.

“No one likes to be threatened by a blaster,” the big blue Mandalorian simply stated.

“Oh…” Yeah, I suppose that made sense.

As we turned a corner onto another busy street, I heard laugher coming from not too far away. It was young laughter, like that of a-

“Look out!”

A young boy came running through the crowd, pushing past people and giggling.

Paz sidestepped out of the way just as the boy went flying past.

“I’m gonna get you! You can’t hide from me!” yelled another boy, quickly catching up to the first one.

Children. It had been a while since I had seen a child, let alone ones that were happy.

I couldn’t help but stop and watch as they zig-sagged through the street.

I hoped they would be ok. I hoped they would stay happy and carefree for the rest of their lives. I hoped they wouldn’t be snatched from their homes and be forced to-

“Almost there, Sarad,” Paz said, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I turned back to find him looking at me. Whoops.

“Sorry, I’m coming.”

Near the middle of the street was another vendor, but she was much less pushy. Hunched over and walking with a cane, her dark eyes light up when she saw Paz.

“Beroya!” she exclaimed. “It has been so long. How have you been?”

Bair-oy-ah? I thought his name was Paz.

The Mandalorian chuckled. “I’ve been fine. I have someone I would like you to meet.”

I nervously waved my hand at the woman. “Hi.”

The old woman gave me a once-over before her eyes landed on my neck. “My goodness, what happened to you?” She placed a wrinkled hand on my collarbone.

Oh. I had forgotten about the lines on my neck. This place had already made me feel too comfortable.

“Oh, um-”

Paz placed a hand on my shoulder and started speaking in another language to this woman.

She looked up at him and her eyes widened before softening and glancing back to me. “Oh child, how strong you are.”

What? What did she mean? Paz had said that too.

“Um, I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you?”

The woman smiled, before swatting Paz in the leg with her walking stick.

He didn’t budge.

“How come you haven’t introduced us yet, Beroya? Where are your manners?” asked the woman, before turning back to me. “I am Jalimia, an old friend of Paz.”

Oh good. His name was Paz and I wasn’t going crazy.

“Nice to meet you Jalimia. I’m (Y/n),” I said.

“Ah, I see. Well, let’s get you into clothes that aren’t three times your size. Come, look here,” Jalimia said, walking behind her vendor’s stand.

I looked to Paz to see if it was ok.

Paz gestured toward Jalimia. “You don’t need my permission.”

I smiled before following after the old woman.

“Let’s see. What sorts of colors do you usually wear?” she asked.

“Uhh, great question,” I said.

On Tattoine, wearing white or generally light colors was a trademark of slavery. Before Oola’s outfit, I wore faded beige tunics. However, black didn’t feel right just yet. Black was symbolic of freedom, but I still didn’t fully feel free. Whatever that feeling may be. I didn’t know what to do with myself or where I was going. Almost… in a limbo of sorts.

“Hmm,” Jalimia looked me up and down before glancing at Paz.

She gasped, “I know what would look nice on you!” She reached under her stand.

Jalimia pulled out an old wooden trunk, filled to the brim with clothing. Opening it, she shuffled through several colorful pieces before pulling out some duller outfits underneath.

That made me feel better. At least she wouldn’t put me in anything flashy. The last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself.

“Ah, here we are,” Jalimia said as she pulled out a sky blue tunic top and a pair of dark gray pants. “Go behind that curtain and try these on.”

She shoved the outfit into my hands.

“And you can’t forget these, my dear,” Jalimia whispered, tucking something between the folds of the outfit.

She then waved me off before turning to a box full of shoes under her stand.

I made my way behind the curtian, safely out of view from the people walking by. Unfolding everything, I found a plain pair of undergarments between the folds of the tunic. I felt my eyes dampen at the gesture.  

I took off the clothes Paz had lent me and put on Jalimia’s. They fit much nicer around my from. There was not much excess fabric on the sleeves, and the pants didn’t hang below my feet.

Stepping back out into the light with Paz’s clothes hugged tightly to my chest, my eyes fell onto the big blue Mandalorian. He was standing on the opposite side of the vendor’s stand, leaning against it with his arm crossed.

He straightened up once he spotted me.

“Oh how beautiful!” exclaimed Jalimia. “If I didn’t know they were nearly extinct, I would say you look like a Jedi in training.”

“A what in where?” I asked.

“No, Sarad, you look fine,” Paz turned to Jalimia. “Thank you. How much do I-”

“No, no, no. You have done me one too many favors. You just promise me to take good care of this one,” Jalimia pointed at me.

She then pulled up a pair of boots from the box. “And take these as well,” she said.

“Oh, I can’t possibly-”

“Hush child,” Jalimia said to me. “Think of these as gifts that come with your newfound freedom.”

Oh… That’s what Paz must have told her about.

“Go ahead and try them on. We don’t want you getting any blisters walking around in those boots.”

I slipped the boots on. They were snug against my feet, and padded enough on the inside that I didn’t feel any pebbles beneath the soles. I liked them.

I smiled. “You are so kind, Jalimia. Thank you for these.”

“We should get going,” Paz said to Jalimia. “Our ship is waiting for us not too far from here.”

Jalimia feigned disappointment. “What, you don’t want to spend a night here with old Jalimia?” she laughed. “I better see you around soon, Paz. Your company is anyways welcome.”

Paz nodded his head. “I’m sure it won’t be long.”

With that, I gave Jalimia a wave goodbye before following Paz back down the busy street.

I felt happier. Lighter. I had my own clothes now.

“How do you know Jalimia?” I asked as we turned a corner.

Paz’s helmet tilted to glance down at me. “She was a Mandalorian a long time ago. Her riduur died during the Siege of Mandalore. After her death, Jalimia took off her helmet never to dawn it again.”

“Oh…” I said. That made my heart ache. Jalimia seemed like such a happy person. I couldn’t imagine seeing her so distraught from losing someone she was close to.

“... What is a ridurr?” I asked.

“A life partner. Spouse. In Jalimia’s case, her ridurr was her wife,” Paz explained.

That made my heart hurt even more. She lost the most important person in her life. I couldn’t imagine having to endure such pain.

“... Where are we going next, Paz?”

“That’s up to you,” he said. “If you want to stay with me.”

The thought of not staying with him terrified me. I had nowhere else to go. Besides, Paz had already been kinder to me than most. Aside from Jalimia.

“If… If you don’t mind I would like to stay. At least for now,” I explained. “I hate to be a burden or anything, but I also don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Paz hummed, though I couldn’t tell what for.

“You could never be a burden.”

I smiled. That meant more to me than he could even know.

“... Once we get back to the ship, I was going to set course for Ket’yci. There is a Mandalorian covert stationed there.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “No way! You’re actually taking me to a Mandalorian covert?”

Paz chuckled, “Keep your voice down.”

“Paz, you don’t understand. I’ve wanted this since I was little,” I loudly whispered.

“Then you’ll be happy to know that you will be embraced with open arms,” Paz said, though I still caught the hurt in his voice he tried to mask.

It wasn’t my fault I couldn’t remember. He knew that. If the roles were reversed, I’m sure I would be just as pained that my childhood friend had no memory of me either.

I grinned up at him. “Let’s get going then,” I excitedly said, gently gripping Paz’s arm and pulling him down the street.

(Part 5 coming soon!)

Mandoa Translations:

“Aliit” - “Family”

“Sarad” - “Flower”

“Beroya” - “Bounty Hunter”

“Riduur” - “Patner/Spouse/Husband/Wife”

(If you are interested in being added to the tag list, please tap/click this link Tag List & More 💕 Same goes for being taken off the tag list 😊 ALSO! If I forgot you on the tag list, I am so so sorry. Do not hesitate to remind me that you belong on the tag list. Thank you!)

@abysshaven | @maddie-madz  | @lovely-lil-creme | @courageinthemidst | @remmysbounty | @sacredmirrxrs | @honimello | @maiihemmmadness | @lawlerek 

[ourstarscollided]

jatp fanworks appreciation - day 3 (wips)

wip wednesday - I didn’t think I wanted to join in on this day for my own stuff considering I’ve never posted anything original for this fandom, but I think this might just be the little boost I need from myself to actually finish the wips that I have sitting around. I am peer pressuring myself and holding myself accountable by posting this - or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. Most of the past 6 mths has just been me screaming to no one in a Google Doc, so here are some things I’ve been ruminating about over the last 6 months (and if my secret agenda is to get other people to write about it so I don’t have to? Then that’s between you and me).

Everything’s under a read more because I like giving context and that usually spirals out of control!?!?

If you would like to see more from any of the below, feel free to shoot me an ask/message and I can definitely share some more! (Or you can just come yell at me about JATP in general.)

Strangers Fake Dating AU // Julie x Luke

I’m a simple person. I see a prompt, I latch onto it, and then I completely miss the entire point of the prompt as my imagination goes wild for no real reason. This really was supposed to be a super short drabble, but it manifested into a 3k+ thing that isn’t even finished.

Julie’s not really sure what she’s supposed to do now. Nothing has ever prepared her for a situation in which she’s supposed to pretend to be a stranger’s girlfriend, especially if that situation involves parents. Does she continue this ruse? Can she come up with a quick enough excuse to tell this Luke character that she actually can’t stay? What if this is just all an elaborate plan to kidnap her? Has she been listening to too many true crime podcasts? Why does Luke smell so good? Does he know how to cook? Why does his shirt not have sleeves? What-

“I can hear you thinking from here.” Her head whips up at the sound of Luke’s voice, which is now at a whisper and kind of frantic. “I just- I just really needed to get my mom off my back, so I kinda need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. Just for the night. I swear I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

Julie studies Luke’s face and it’s nearly impossible to not cave under his gaze, which can only be simply described as ‘puppy dog eyes’. She finds herself smiling back, letting out a huff, “I hope you like lasagna.” And the grin that spreads across the boy’s face is enough for her to know that he’s incredibly relieved that she agreed.

“I’m Luke by the way. Luke Patterson.”

(Okay, he’s kinda cute. And no one this cute is a serial killer. Right?)

She gives a small smile back, “I’m Julie.”

//

5+1 alive!Juke AU // Julie x Luke

Inspired by paper - LANY

This is one of the first things I ever felt the urge to write down back in September because I love exploring the idea of how two people can appear to be the perfect relationship on the outside, but are actually fighting their own demons. Especially when it comes to celebrities and people who are in the spotlight. It’s basically a 5+1 fic about the moments from other people’s perspectives who happen to orbit around Julie/Luke that all revolve around paper. My outline for this is so long because I can’t manage to narrow it down, and there’s zero cohesiveness but I do have little things jotted down.

“Hey little man,” Luke’s knelt down to match his 5 year-old height, and a hand extends out to him for a high five, “What are you doing here?”

His eyes flicker to the left, towards his own apartment door, where his mom is giving him an encouraging nod. “ I- I just wanted to-” he stutters and finds himself looking at his feet as he shuffles back and forth on the spot. “I- I drew you guys something!”

He shoves the paper out towards the older boy in front of him, but doesn’t look up.

//

Reincarnation AU // Julie x Luke

I had a random thought in December about how magical it is that Julie and Luke are so tied to one another that their love transcends time and space, which will always lead them back to one another. I remember reading a book a long time ago about how the main character is fated to die at a certain age, and that kind of sparked this little idea. I can’t bring myself to actually plot out every single timeline right now, but I did manage to write a little bit.

It will never be as complex as Rosie’s idea and all the wonderful additions in the link here, and I don’t really plan on it being anything more than a small idea. But I really do still think someone should write some sort of reincarnation AU cause I’d hop on that so fast!!

“Okay- that’s not- Luke. You seriously just ran away?”

“What was I supposed to do Alex? We all know how this ends.”

His friend looks at him, face painted in understanding and he sighs, “Yeah. Yeah, we do.”

Because it’s true, Alex does know, so does Reggie and Bobby. Most importantly, so does Luke. It’s the exact same tragic love story every time.

Call it a curse or fate or destiny. Maybe it’s because Mercury is in retrograde. Whatever. It always ends the same way - with a heartbreaking goodbye, a whisper of the promise that they’ll find each other again, and the possibility of a happy ending. He’s said the same goodbye at least 734 times, but it’s not like he’s counting or anything. Fuck the universe and its mystical ways.

//

Competitive Alex // Alex x Willie

No real thoughts or reasons for this other than I just think I self-projected my need to play board games with people in real life into a fic. And maybe a little bit of my competitiveness onto Alex and then threw in Willie because I think he would be able to handle it while also finding it endearing. I also have written nothing about the actual competitiveness, it’s just 2k words of Alex crushing on Willie.

“Wait,” his eyes dart between the three boys, “You both know Willie? How come I’ve never met him?”

His roommates look at each other, and there’s a smirk on Luke’s face when he says, “Actually Alex, I think you have. Remember that time you got really drunk after one of our shows?”

Oh no. He really hopes that it’s not the time he’s thinking of, so he tries to sound nonchalant. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Luke.”

“The night we played at that tiny bar at the edge of the campus! We got paid in those tiny colourful shots?” He doesn’t really know where Luke is going with this, so he’s slowly nodding along. “And you were super upset that the hot dog vendor at the end of the street was closed?”

//

Dear Julie, Love Mom series

I made myself sad with this thought when I first watched the show and was talking to my friend about how I think that Rose would’ve left messages for the Molina family, especially when we found out that Wake Up was actually from her mom. I wrote a bigger explanation for it here.

Anyways, I started with the one for Julie’s wedding and it kind of became an 8k monster with three different POVs?!? As much as I love how I wrote this, I feel too unsure about my writing to share it in full, so you will get carefully selected looks alkfe. (I’m also kind of stuck on some of the more emotional scenes and I may or may not have procrastinated by photoshopping a moodboard for it.)

Excerpt 1 (Julie POV): A look into where I’m going with this whole letters from Rose thing.

The key clicks into place, and with a turn, the latch falls open. She’s not sure what she wants to find in the box, and she’s too scared to think about it really. All she knows is that this was the sign from her mom that she was waiting for all week, and in true Rose fashion, her mom had managed to give it to her, even if at the last second. Her dad turns the box to face Julie, and gestures to her to open up the lid.

Tucked inside is a VHS tape, the words ‘For Julie, on your wedding day’ written in her mom’s cursive on the cover. Some loose glitter and confetti fall back into the box as she reaches in to pick up the tape and turn it over in her hands. There’s a little purple butterfly etched on the back, the same one that’s been drawn on all the other messages that her mom had left her. Her finger automatically finds its way, tracing the shape of the small doodle.

“Do you want me to leave you alone, mija?”

Excerpt 2 (Julie POV): This part has absolutely nothing to do with the main plot of the story, but it self-inserted itself into this fic after @tangledstarlight and I talked about You’re Still the One by Shania Twain being their first dance. This whole scene came to me at 4am one night and might be the most self-indulgent thing I’ve ever written.

They knew that when they had asked Reggie to be in charge of the first dance performance, that they (and Alex) weren’t allowed to veto any of his ideas. Luke had warned Julie that that would be a mistake, but the giddiness that radiated off of Reggie when she had told him he could have free reign was worth it. She just hadn’t thought that he would actually take it to heart and run with it.

Sure, they had chosen You’re Still the One by Shania Twain as their first dance song, and sure it was more or less a country song, but she didn’t really imagine that she’d be staring at her adoptive brother, Carlos and her Dad wearing cowboy hats and boots at her wedding. They had somehow managed to ditch their Flynn-approved suit jackets and were sporting a taupe-coloured suede-textured vest over their dress shirts. If she looked closely, she could see that they had somehow also found some gaudy looking bolo ties with a matching set of ornamental clasps to wear. When she envisioned her wedding, she really didn’t expect that her first (public) dance as a married couple would be a full-on Western themed occasion. The only exception was Alex, who had settled on his cajon in the back, still in his pink suit, eyes rolling when she met his gaze. But even she knew how there was no real annoyance in the blonde’s reaction or else he wouldn’t also be wearing one of the tacky ties around his neck as well.

“I’m gonna seriously kill him.” She hears Luke grumble under his breath, only low enough for her to hear. But she’s still too busy giggling to actually be mad, and she knows that Luke isn’t really going to kill Reggie. At least she doesn’t think so.

Excerpt 3 (Luke POV): Idk man. My mind went “What about Luke?” and I said “You’re right!! What about him?!?”

He doesn’t realize that he’s just been silently staring at the woman in front of him, until a gentle voice breaks him out of his thoughts. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Julie’s peering at him from under her eyelashes, a curious look on her face.

“You just-” he gives a little shake of his head, trying to come up with the right words. He wants to tell her she’s beautiful. Stunning. A wicked beauty. But she’s more than that - she’s almost angelic. “I can’t believe you’re my wife.”

“Luke, we’ve been legally married for like, a whole year.” Her lips are quirked up in a grin, amusement in her voice. “You’ve only just realized that now?”

“That’s different.”

“Yeah? Different how?”

This feels a little strange to post and a little like my inner self seeking validation but let’s not talk about that.

Kskssj anyways present me @ future me: finish one of these because writing has been really cathartic for you and you didn’t think it would bring you so much joy!!!

[nakedmossy]

Depth Over Distance - Part Four (1/2) [Rudy x Reader]

[A/N: I haven’t found a hometown Rudy fic yet soooo I wrote one. I have no idea where this story is going to go and I’m honestly finding it hard to get out of writing JJ and get into writing Rudy, but here we go anyways. I wanted to write something where the reader and Rudy were hometown friends before he moved to LA, and to explore the idea of how that would change/what it would look like when he comes back. Get ready for a S L O W. B U R N. my dudes. Peace and love, Mossy x]

Two days after Rudy got home you had left for your fishing trip with your Dad. It had been a typical trip for the time of year, sketchy weather at best that made for some interesting maneuvering of waves and necessary local knowledge of how the channels and tides worked. It hardly phased you, you had become something of an expert in navigating rough waters lately.

The fishing had been scant and after the first day the youngest member of the crew had gotten so bored with the older gentlemen he was accompanying that he took to flirting with you for the next two days, which was both a blessing and a curse. It gave you a distraction from your incessant thoughts about Rudy being home, but served as a reminder that even in the face of an (arguably very attractive) tourist who was clearly making an effort, you couldn’t think about anyone else but Rudy. The one hour of peace you got every afternoon when the boat was anchored so the crew could fish the shoreline gave you time to concoct the idea of a welcome home party for Rudy. 

After some collaboration with Lizzy and a few people you had graduated with, it ended up becoming a pallet party with a keg in the bush near the Viewpoint (the popular make out spot when you were 15, but also the best clearing/parking lot for more than 5 cars). Half the town had shown up - it was a roaring success, so much so that you had seen Rudy for a total of 10 minutes since the party started.

Lizzy had invited Junior in spite of your numerous attempts to dissuade her (Junior was obnoxious when he was drunk), but she had persisted, noting that she thought they had had a ‘moment’ when she had hopped in his rental truck that day at the beach, and she wanted to investigate further. Naturally this had led to Junior giving her the cold shoulder, her binge drinking and making out with one of the contract fisherman, and Junior following you around for the next hour while you tried to keep him at arms length. He had spotted you on your way to your car and was tripping down the pathway after you now.

“Forget it Junior...just leave me alone” you waved your hand behind you, shooing him away as you walked down the path towards the cars.

“Ah, don’t be like that Y/N” he slurred, stumbling over a root and steadying himself with your shoulder. “I just wanna talk”

“Tough luck” You walked straight ahead and kept your eyes forward, no step faltering, no patience. “Get outta here before I whack you with a stick.”

“Whack me. With a stick.” He repeated, snorting. “Yeah rig- OUCH!”

You threw the stick back down on the ground and continued walking, not looking behind you but knowing he was still following you, albeit now clutching his arm in pain.

“You know, you got really aggressive after we broke up and part of me feels like I could help you fix that” Junior was slurring so disgustingly that a dribble of spit had built up on the side of his lip. You had stopped walking and turned to face him, putting your hand out to stop him from coming closer.

“If anything makes me aggressive Junior, its the fact you STILL follow me around like a lost puppy when you’re drinking. We broke up 5 years ago. Move on man.” You said flatly, pointing back towards the party. You didn’t bother lowering your voice or speaking quietly, the party was so loud that nobody would hear you anyways. “Now fuck off and leave me alone.”

Junior stood his ground resiliently and locked his (dilated) pupils on you, setting his jaw. He tried to cross his arms but he lost balance and had to side step to stop from falling over. 

“Hey man, you good?” Rudy appeared behind him down the path, a can in his hand, walking with distinct purpose directly towards you. Junior looked behind him and groaned, his face souring.

“Dude you really gotta mind your own.” He said with an ego-soaked tone, staring at Rudy for a few seconds before Rudy’s significantly stronger and more sober grip dug into Junior’s shoulder and Junior stiffened.

“I think you should walk away and go back to the party.” Rudy nodded, guiding Junior around him and back down the trail. He stood his ground until Junior looked at you and shook his head.

‘Whatever’ he mumbled before shoving Rudy’s hand off and tripping a few steps backwards. 

“You know, this is so typical. Even after you bailed on her and disappeared, she STILL picks you.” He said, swinging his arm out and frowning directly at you know. “When he puts you in the hospital this time, don’t come running to me.”

With that, he turned and started back down the path towards the fire. Rudy watched him for a few seconds before turning back and looking at you, his face dark with shadows. The moonlight streaming through the trees illuminated your face, showing him your eyes wet with tears. You shook your head and ran a hand over your face, throwing your hands in the air defeatedly.

“What was he talking about?” Rudy took a step towards you but you turned away from him and put your hands on your head, taking a deep breath.

“Nothing. Drunk rambling. He’s an idiot.” You said quietly, breathing steadily and calming yourself.

“Well, no disputing that.” Rudy said quickly, then walked around to see you. “What did he mean about the hospital?” 

You put your arms down and put your hands in your sweater pockets, shrugging.

“Like I said, drunk rambling.”

Rudy held your eyes for a few seconds then reached in his pocket and grabbed a beer, passing it to you slowly. You smiled apologetically and accepted it, cracking it open loudly. He spun to look down the path towards the cars, shoulder to shoulder with you, and fell in step when you started walking again.

“You never mentioned you were in the hospital.” He spoke after a few quiet moments.

“It was a long time ago.” You shrugged, taking a swig of the beer he had given you. Your head was starting to get fuzzy. You really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. Or like...ever, actually. “I told you about the specialists...I thought I mentioned it.” You lied.

“You for sure did not mention being in the hospital, Y/N.” He spoke intently, clearly, you could feel him looking at you. “Why?” 

You bit your tongue and groaned internally, knowing there was nothing for it now.

“I don’t know” Lie. You knew perfectly well. “I guess it just seemed selfish to burden you with it...you were busy, you had just moved to LA.” A half lie, you knew if he knew you were in the hospital he would want to come back and you didn’t want to interfere with his shot. “Besides, it wasn’t anything major.” A big lie.

Rudy cleared his throat and stopped walking, putting his arm out to stop you as well. Confused, you looked at him and waited, the darkness from the tree cover making it hard to see anything but the outline of his features.

“Just...will you please be honest with me for a few minutes.” He started shaking his empty beer can against his leg nervously. 

You nodded, acutely aware of how close you were standing to him. You were dreading this conversation but it felt inevitable now.

“How bad was it. Actually.”

You crinkled your nose and looked around, wanting desperately to lie to him again but knowing that you couldn’t. You took a long swig and swallowed slowly, biding your time. Finally, you looked at him as you spoke.

“Pretty bad.” You chose your words carefully. “I was in there for a few weeks...I had some heart complications due to malnutrition and it took a bit to get it stable again. When they discharged me I had to see some specialists, monitor everything to make sure there was no permanent damage.”

Rudy watched you intently, breathing but not moving.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I was embarrassed.” You said finally, looking directly back at him now. He didn’t speak, he just held your gaze silently. You turned, take a few small steps forward slowly. He followed.

“I mean it didn’t even make sense at the time, to me anyways. I had never been that person, I was healthy. Then suddenly...I don't know. Something changed. I just...I didn’t want to eat. Food wasn’t appealing. It wasn’t like I chose not to or was counting calories or anything...it wasn’t like that.” You looked over at him to reinforce the importance of your point. He nodded and kept close to you as you kept walked. “It just...I felt like I lost interest. Not just in food...in a lot of things. I sorta just lost my purpose...shit.” You laughed humourlessly and sniffed your nose, which was cold from the wet air. “I guess I kinda lost myself.”

It felt peculiar to speak this openly about it, especially with Rudy, when you hadn’t talked to anyone aside from your therapist about it since it happened.

“Thank you” Rudy said quietly, after a few moments of silence. You had reached the end of the path that led to the viewpoint clearing, both illuminated fully in the moonlight. Now that you could see him properly you could see that his face was covered in a pained expression, his shoulders slightly sagging. 

“For what” You questioned, slowing down and turning more towards him as you walked.

“For telling me all that.” He smiled at you, a small, sad smile. “Its not easy to open up like that.”

Something passed over his face and his eyes glazed momentarily, drifting somewhere else. You felt yourself take a step closer to him, tipping your head to catch his eye. He smiled down at you and blinked back into the present, sighing lightly.

“I almost called you...a hundred times over.” He said finally, looking over your head at the trees and then back to you. “I never did. Then so much time passed I felt like I couldn’t and...” He closed his mouth and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “and now I wish I had just picked up the phone” He choked out, struggling to form the words.

You felt a weight on your shoulders and a tightness in your chest as he spoke, he looked distraught. You didn’t know what to say, or if there was anything to say, so you stood still, keeping hold of his gaze and praying he would say something else. He didn’t. 

Instead, he put his arm over your shoulders and pulled you in beside him, walking you both forward into the clearing towards the viewpoint fence. He leaned his head down and pressed a kiss into your hair firmly, you closed your eyes and breathed in the scent of his cologne mixed with the smell of the wet earth and cedar trees. You felt lightheaded and calm, more calm than you had felt in months. When you reached the fence, he removed his arm and leaned both forearms on the top of the fence, rocking on his feet and looking out across the valley and down at the mudflats. 

“Why didn’t you call?” You asked out of curiosity, matching his posture and leaning over the fence.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to.” He said mindlessly, as if the answer was just under the surface. “After I left you on the beach I was pretty certain you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“I didn’t” You breathed, looking at the side of his face, he winced when you spoke. “I wasted a lot of time being angry at you that year.” 

He met your eyes and his face relaxed when he saw your expression. You smiled and bumped his shoulder with yours.

“I’m happy you’re here now,” You said gently, picking at a piece of the metal. “For the record.”

“Me too.” He placed his chin on his fist, watching you again.

“My turn” You raised your eyebrows and smiled at him, watching his eyes roll and a small laugh escape.

“Fair enough. Fire away captain.”

“Tell me about Anna.”

He looked over at you with a confused expression at first, which slowly shifted to a straight face, then his shoulders sagged and he leaned into the fence, grunting.

“She is my agent. That’s it.” He said firmly, staring at a tree top on the hillside down the embankment below you.

You waited, when he didn’t continue you closed your mouth and took a step back, turning towards the pathway back to the party.

“Alright” You said airily, gesturing to the path when he looked up at you. “Fine.”

“What” He watched you backing away from him. You inhaled sharply and shook your head, smiling.

“We can have that conversation a different time then, but...you cannot lie to me, Rudy Pankow. You are terrible at it. Truly.”

You made the comment lightheartedly but you both recognized the truth in it. Rudy looked around and up at the clear night sky for a moment before looking back at you and smiling knowingly.

“Just give me a couple days to enjoy you before I ruin it with my E! True Hollywood Story, alright?” He said sarcastically, walking towards you and stopping a breath from your face. “Now, lets go get drunk.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat and you replayed him saying give me a couple days to enjoy you until the imprint of his voice faded from your brain. You followed him in a daze back to the party, making easy conversation about how the fishing trip had been, stopping when you reached the keg and grabbing cups. You took it gratefully and raised it to your lips, taking a few large gulps quickly. When you lowered the cup and raised your arm to wipe your mouth, you noticed Rudy was watching you, laughing lightly, his cup still full.

“What - do I have ...is there something on my face?” You wiped your sleeve around your mouth, suddenly self conscious. Someone behind you bumped you and you fell forward, Rudy steadying you with his hands. 

“Easy there, Little Fern” He laughed, helping you stand straight again.

You cringed, wiping the beer that had spilled on your hand.

“Sorry” You looked around for the culprit, but it was impossible to tell who had bumped you. Rudy’s eyes focussed on you and he lifted his full cup, nodding.

“To you.” He tipped his cup when you lifted yours to cheers him. “To us. To...making up for lost time.” His expression was hard to read, but you thought you understood it, it was recognition and happiness and gratefulness and hopefulness all wrapped up in one. 

“Cheers” You said almost inaudibly, lost in his gaze. The fire cracked behind you, breaking your concentration on him.

“A-and-” You stuttered, blinking hazily. “-Cheers to you. Being here. With Me.”

Rudy grinned at you, winking, before clinking his cup to yours and then proceeding to down the entire thing in one go. He chucked the empty cup into the fire and let out a loud yelp, several people around you raising their cups in the air and shouting encouragements. When he looked at you again you swore you saw the breath leave his lungs. He was looking at you with a hazy yet intense expression, his smile rising and falling but his eyes firm, making you feel like the only person he could see.

“What...” You smiled, chuckling lightly. Rudy blinked at you a few times before taking a step forward and swallowing, dipping his head closer to yours so you could hear over the roar of the fire and conversation. 

“Let’s go” He spoke clearly, keeping his face near yours.

“What? Where? We can’t leave YOUR welcome home party” You clamoured for words, your stomach fluttering. 

“Yes, we can. Come on, they’re not here for me, they’re here for the beer and the fire. Lets go.”

“Where?” You turned your face to look at him, your nose brushing his cheek. You felt blood rushing to your face.

“Anywhere” He said in a low voice, hot breath that smelled of beer wafting over you.

You didn’t answer, you simply leaned your head back a bit to see his eyes clearly, and smiled, nodding once. He grabbed your hand firmly and led you away from the keg towards the cars. 

Continued in Part 4.2

____________________________________________

Tag List: @bluebirdsbluebells​, @sunshinemadds​, @lovelymaybankk​, @poguestyleskye​, @alexa-playafricabytoto​, @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​, @k-k0129​, @kimyeon-tae​, @ellystone​, @faded-blue​, @thebeautifulbookworm

[downwiththeficness]

In the Bond-Chapter 5

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~3,700

Warnings: None

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

Start from the beginning   Previous Chapter   Next Chapter  

Read on AO3   Masterlist

Lilah sat at a conference table, hands at her temples, groaning. The meeting was going nowhere. There had been so much goddamned bickering in the last hour that Lilah was tempted just to get up and walk out to see if they would even notice. The fucking testosterone in this room was thick enough to choke her.

They’d been arguing on and off for hours, save for a few breaks that Lilah had mandated when the urge to either bludgeon them to death or to pee arose. Every little thing had to be discussed, debated, twisted every which way. Nothing was simple, especially not when it came to the territory assigned to each side.

“Alright!” She yelled, finally having had enough. “Let’s just go over this again.”

Standing, Lilah leaned over the map.  The surface was covered by solid, clear plastic, onto which they were outlining territories with dry erase markers.  The current argument centered around the delineation of land around a fertile riverbed.

“Okay,” she grunted, “We aren’t planting crops, we’re just trying to figure out what land we’re going to be responsible for.” She put her hand over the area on the map, giving her friend a meaningful look, “We don’t need it, Seth.”

Making a derisive sound, Seth held up his hand, “Hold your horses. This river cuts through our liquor supply chain. We need access to the highway over there.”

Brasa shrugged, having leaned back from the table, “No one is saying you can’t import your liquor. Your horses will be safe.”

Lilah felt her eyes roll, couldn’t keep the sigh from escaping her lips, “He wasn’t talking about literal horses.”

Acting as if he hadn’t heard her, Seth barreled forward, “Yeah, but let’s say things get tense between us.  You could cut off our supply just like that.” He snapped his fingers to emphasize his point. “No, we’re going to extend out past the river and over the road.”

“An extra fifty miles,” Brasa drawled, “For an uninterrupted supply chain.”

“Correct,” Seth answered, a smug little smirk on his mouth.

As he eyed Seth, Lilah could feel the barest brush of warmth across her hands. Reflexively, she drew them back, closer to the safety of her body. The heat dissipated as Brasa stood, leaning his weight into his palms as he braced them on the table.

Like the rest of him, Brasa’s hands were large, the fingers spreading wide over the wood. Lilah noted how the gloves he was wearing stretched tight across the backs of them. She wondered, not for the first time, why he wore them.

“Then, I want the desert land here,” he pointed to a swath of empty land, “And here.”

Seth considered it before giving a nod. Lilah marked it out on the map with the coordinated colors she’d chosen before the meeting began.

“Wait,” Seth said, and Lilah’s jaw clenched, “What would you want with a couple hundred square miles of empty land?”

Brasa lifted a brow, “Are we holding more horses?”

“Forget the horses,” Seth bit out with a wave of his hand, “No one willingly chooses to own land like this.”

“Is that so?”

Lilah did not like the way he said that. A question wrapped around a veiled barb, wrapped in ridicule. She glanced at Seth to see if he caught the undertones in the words. He hadn’t. She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or relieved.

“There is a group of my people who have made camp there,” Brasa explained lightly.

Seth looked unmoved, “You don’t want us going out there and doing population control.”

Lip curling, Brasa replied, “Is that what you call what you were doing? Looked a lot like chaos to me.”

Without blinking, Seth shot back, “Well, its not our main bag, alright? This shit is new to us, since your people came along and infected my brother.”

And, there they were, talking in circles around the thing that made negotiating such an arduous task. Seth would never forgive Brasa for the hell he’d put them through, for the uncrossable gulf that now existed between him and his brother. Fighting with Richie about it only made things worse, and Seth was resorting to striking out at the only other available target.

“This isn’t the time for this,” Lilah edged, fingers tightening on the marker.

“When is the time?” Seth nearly yelled, “We started out killing them and now we’re marking out territories and writing fucking policies and procedures together.”

Lilah drew in a calming breath, “This is business, Seth.”

She’d explained it to him several times over. They needed the cooperation of Brasa and his people. There were just too many factions, too many rogue culebras to hunt down all by themselves. It would take scouring the land every day for years to make that happen. Brasa had already assured them that anyone getting blood at their sites was vetted intensely. Anyone who broke the primary rule and killed humans without regard for the safety of the group was eliminated.

Seth looked at her with ire, “Fuck business.”

“Yes,” Lilah countered with a sneer, “Fuck business. Fuck ending a war. Fuck peace.” She sat back in her chair with a huff, “You want to keep fighting forever? Guess what? You don’t have forever. He does.” She pointed at Brasa, “He has all the time in the world to wait you out, and he’s offering a solution—now, not later.”

Seth went quiet, jaw working. His fingers drummed on the table, eyes cutting.

Lilah saw the crack in his resolve and kept talking, “This sucks. It all sucks. Ironing out details fucking sucks.” She tapped her fingers on the map, “But these details are going to save lives. Possibly yours and mine. Let’s just get this done so we can get back to shit we used to do, the fun shit.”

There was a heaviness in the air as she trailed off, her expression urging Seth for some sort of compromise.  She was being honest when she said she wanted to get back to what she was good at. Lilah had been itching for a job for months, had actually stooped low enough to snag a pair of sunglasses at the gas station just to satisfy the restlessness in her hands. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to end out figuring out who the richest person in the country was and rob them blind.

Brasa spoke, his voice piqued with interest, “What did you do before...population control?”

Seth cut a look at him that was both suspicious and angry, “We’re thieves. I run point, Richie is the box man, Lilah monitors with tech.”

“That is fortunate,” Brasa said as he sat, with a little smile that was far too easy for Lilah’s taste, “I happen to need a few items stolen for me.”

Lilah leaned her head on her head, motioning for him to continue. She was intrigued by the idea that he would be interested in contracting with them. A job was a tasty idea, at the moment, and found that she didn’t much care that it would be Brasa that would be directing them.

“As you might be aware, relics are often stolen from indigenous people and either put on display in a museum or kept in a private collection. I’d like some of those relics back.”

Lilah’s brows lifted. That was certainly not what she had expected him to say. The idea had some merit, though. Lilah’s favorite jobs were museums. So many pretty things that definitely needed a new home.

Seth considered it, “We’re not a cheap crew.”

True.

Nodding, Brasa simply said, “I have money.”

Definitely true. Every inch of Brasa’s office and the bar adjacent screamed money at her in an understated way. As old as he was, there was no denying that he likely had a cache of assets squirreled away.

Lilah looked back and forth between them, already calculating cost, labor, and expenses. Depending on what he wanted, she could potentially negotiate a hefty profit. And, if there happened to be something else in the museum that caught her fancy—bonus.

“Say we do this job,” Seth began, slouching in his seat, “And you pay us—and, we iron out all these details,” he gestured to the map. “Is that going to be it?”

“It?”

“Yeah. Or, are we going to have a dual relationship, here. Both contractor and partner.”

Lilah was actually a little impressed that Seth not only knew how dual relationships worked, but also applied it to their unique situation. She turned her attention to Brasa, curious to hear his response.

“I can contract others, if you like. But, I like to work with people I know, people that I...trust to have a stake in things going well for them.”

Logical. Practical. Efficient. Lilah was quickly learning how skilled Brasa could be when he wanted something done. He might want whatever these relics were back in his possession, but she wasn’t stupid enough to dismiss the fact that he was creating yet another tie between them, anchoring her nearby with every task they agreed to take on. It wasn’t possible to deny his motivations any longer. Denial wouldn’t do her any good. She was undecided on how she felt about it.

Seth remained silent, watching, waiting.  Lilah was holding her breath.

Brasa’s eyes narrowed, “I will give you the river, and the connecting highway from here,” he pointed, “to here. In lieu of payment, of course. You make take your horses wherever you like within that boundary.”

Mildly offended, Lilah cut in, “In lieu of payment, but you will cover expenses.  Air fare, hotel stays, food, and equipment.”

His attention, when it turned to her, was keen.  Though his expression did not change, there was a twinkle of laughter in his eyes, possibly pride, as well, “Done.”

“What if,” Seth began, “We took this deal, and our horses, and added this area, too.”

He pointed to the desert Brasa had originally bargained for.  It was surrounded by enemy territory, across the river they’d just gained, with no inherent resources. Lilah glared at him, knowing he was needling his opponent. The man just couldn’t help it, consequences be damned.

“Well,” Brasa responded levelly, “I’d say that you might have your horses, but you’d be isolated, alone, and on the wrong side of the river.”

Seth conceded the point with a nod of his head, “Not a fan of sand, anyways. Unless its a beach. Beaches, I can do.”

Unmoved by the sentiment, Brasa simply replied, “I will keep the desert.”

Lilah blinked slowly, and when Seth made no move to argue, she asked “So its settled, then?”

Both of them indicated in the positive, with Seth saying, “There’s one thing I don’t understand.”

“One thing?” Lilah commented, though she didn’t expect him to respond. He’d started on a tangent, and getting him back on track would be difficult.  Better to let him roll through his thought process.

“You’ve got a whole group of culebras that you’re feeding, right?”

Brasa nodded, though his expression had shuttered.

“How are you doing that?”

A valid question that she had figured out not longer after these meetings had started. Lilah cut in, trying to head off any insult he might inadvertently blurt out, “He’s having it shipped in.”

“From where?” Seth asked, hands gesturing widely. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re in kind of a food desert, here.  Literally and figuratively.”

Without an answer to his question, Lilah looked to Brasa, brows lifted. She was curious enough about his process to let the question stand.

Cocking his head to the side, Brasa licked his lips, “I run a rather complex medical supplies company. We ship all over the country. Part of that business is blood donation.”

Seth’s mouth thinned, “You’re stealing blood.”

Brasa huffed, “We transport most of it to where it needs to go. Call it a finder’s fee.”

“What about the sick people who need it?”

Where was all this compassion coming from? Lilah wondered. Although far from heartless, Seth didn’t usually care this much about the people he ripped off. Why should this be any different?

“Would you rather we feed on the humans in the area?” Brasa’s voice was low, dangerous. Lilah could feel the offense, as if it were her own.

“No.”

“Alright, then.”

Sensing that the conversation had come to an impass, Lilah gathered up her paperwork, “I’m going to get this all formatted and polished for both of your signatures. Shouldn’t take more than a few days.”

“Great,” Seth muttered as he rose, “Let’s get out of here.”

***

Later, when her eyes started crossing from staring at the computer too long, Lilah shut down her laptop and sat it on her nightstand. Rubbing at her face, she yawned and settled against the headboard. Furtively, she glanced to the side, her hand already reaching for the candle she’d tucked away. After checking that the door was closed (despite having closed and locked it a few hours before), Lilah lifted the lid and inhaled deeply.

Coffee. Caramel.

A little too quickly, Lilah replaced the lid and set it back in its little hideaway. Embarrassed, she crossed her arms and stared at the ceiling.  Lilah was feeling things she hadn’t really ever felt, not since she’d been in high school. And, even then, it was never this intense. She managed to get through their meetings solely because there was always something else to focus on. Every one on one interaction with him left her feeling frazzled and lightheaded. She’d stolen rare artifacts with less trouble.

In this business, Lilah had what most would call a late start.  She’d had a normal childhood, had gone through high school and done the work thing for a bit. Lilah had even sat in a cubicle, bored out of her mind. It wasn’t until she’d met a chop shop owner named Chewie that she’d been introduced to theft.  First, cars, then she’d set her eyes on higher things—art, diamonds, one time she managed to steal a yacht.

It had been a steady rotation of teams that were well-established in their own right, but never did more than a few jobs together before they split to keep the heat down. Lilah had spent almost a decade running in those circles before she’d run into Seth at a dive bar south of the border.  He’d hit on her, laughed when she’d knocked him off his barstool, and offered her a job.

And, here she sat. Hip deep in a relationship she didn’t understand and brokering a deal between her friends and the people they’d taught her to fear. Sneering at the course of her own thoughts, Lilah pushed her feet under the covers and turned off the light. It took longer than she wanted to get to sleep.

***

Oh, fuck, the bed was comfortable.  Lilah turned over, burying her nose in the pillow and kicking out her legs.  With a sigh, she settled back into the mattress that she was pretty sure was more expensive than her car. So comfortable was she that Lilah could be forgiven for taking a little longer than normal to become aware of another body in the bed with her.

She took a few seconds to assess and decide on what she was going to do, which was pretty much nothing.  Eyes opening, she waited for them to adjust to the warm light emanating from the lamp sitting on the nightstand. Cast in shadow, Lilah recognized the slope of Brasa’s profile. His eyes were closed, but she couldn’t tell if he was sleeping.

Her fingers curled with the urge to reach out and touch, her brain a little foggy from sleep. Lips parting, she breathed, lids falling to half mast Lilah let it roll over her tongue. She had to clench her jaw to stifle a pleased moan.

Lashes fluttering, Brasa opened his eyes, his head rolling to the side on the pillow. He looked her over calmly, unsurprised that she’d somehow ended up in his bed. Lilah, however, had questions.

“Is this real?”

His mouth quirked, “Does it have to be?”

She started to answer, and then stopped. Did it have to be? Lilah wasn’t sure which she preferred. When they were together, she felt excited and eager, even when she was outwardly annoyed. When they were apart, she struggled to reconcile the two versions of him that she knew to be true. With barely a thought, he’d eviscerated his opponents, hands tearing them into literal pieces. And then there was the way he was looking at her right now—all softness, all quiet affection.

Lilah’s silence continued, the space between them spreading thin with her indecision. Brasa shifted slowly to his side, lifting up onto his elbow so that he was looking down at her. His body was cut in half by lamplight, eyes too bright to be merely natural reflection.

Lilah’s skin drew up tight around the curves of her body as she worked to keep her gaze on his. Every inch of her seemed to be viscerally aware of him, responding to the smallest movement. Her nerves sizzled with his nearness.

He tilted his head to the side, eyes tracing the contours of her cheekbones, her neck, and shoulders. Lilah swallowed, disconcerted by the scrutiny, but unable to think of any way to break it. He studied her as if he’d never look at her again, memorizing details with tender care.

Finally, when she couldn’t take the silence anymore, she said, “How am I here?”

Brasa lifted a shoulder, “We had so little time together last night. Perhaps we needed more.”

She didn’t know what to do with that. Next question, then.

“You sleep during the day.”

Not really a question, more of a statement, but she waited for his answer nonetheless.

“Sometimes,” he replied, taking her change in subject in stride, “I need less sleep than most.”

“Why?”

He smiled, “I am very old. We need to sleep less, to feed less, as we age.”

Lilah had heard a little about this from Richie, who’d lamented that it took so long to build up a tolerance to going long periods without feeding.  And, she knew Richie only slept a few hours a night. She wondered just how often Brasa would need to sleep, given how much older he was. Lilah was no longer surprised at his efficiency with getting his projects together. If she could miss a few meals or miss a few night’s sleep every once in a while, she could get a hell of a lot done.

“That’s a nice perk,” she commented lightly, “When I go too long without eating, I get grumpy.”

Nodding, Brasa reached out and traced the pad of a finger over her shoulder and down her arm to her wrist, “I will keep this in mind and endeavor to keep you well fed.”

Would she do the same? He hadn’t mentioned that she had taken his blood without giving any in return. Whenever Lilah thought about it too deeply, she always came back to the same line of thought—his bite. She had tried to do a little covert research about the venom, but only found a few vague references to ‘donors’ seeking it out. Venom, it seemed, could be a popular drug in certain circles.

“I’m sorry that we left so quickly,” Lilah murmured rolling her wrist to place her hand over his, “I know that I didn’t...fulfill my end of our agreement.”

Twice. Two interactions in a row, she hadn’t. He hadn’t brought it up, but the disparity between what she’d promised and what she’d done nagged at her. She didn’t like to be made a liar.

Brasa’s brows lifted, “Are you afraid I’ll tell them?”

“No,” she replied quickly, “I just don’t want you to think I’m avoiding it.”

He smiled flirtatiously, “Are you offering now?”

Eyes widening, Lilah’s mouth parted, voice silent as her brain stumbled over forming a reply, “This is a dream. Is—is that even possible?”

He laughed, a real laugh. It made his face, so predisposed to severity, brighten in such a way that he fairly glowed in the dim light. Lilah felt her breath catch in the back of her throat, struck by just how goddamned pretty he was to look at.

“I don’t know,” he breathed, when he was able, “Would you like to try?”

The word ‘okay’ was out of her mouth before Lilah could stop it, her eyes wide, her heart beating hard. Brasa’s smile faded, his eyes focusing on her, the pupils bleeding out into the whites until there was nothing but blackness looking down at her. She drew in a shuddering breath, her fingers curling over his.

Sliding closer to her, Brasa cupped her jaw, tilting it back just a little. He glanced at her face again, checking for her consent. She gave the smallest nod, licking her lips. The motion drew his eyes to her mouth, his body growing hot against her. He leaned down, but instead of hovering over the thin skin of her neck, he moved to the side. The realization that he intended to kiss her came to Lilah in a slow, honeyed wave.

“Yes?” He asked, his breath fanning over her mouth.

“Yes.”

It was so, so slow, this kiss. Light pressure that grew heavier in the smallest increments. Lilah gripped his bicep, trying to ground herself as every nerve in her body screamed to life, reaching out desperately to get more stimulation. He drew back, changed the angle, and kissed her again—deeper, hungrier, tongue running along her bottom lip.

She was too hot, her skin seared by the heat emanating from him. Sweat rose and pooled in the hollows of her arms, beneath her breasts, the crease between her hip and thigh. She heard herself moan, felt her muscles relax as he rolled her beneath him. Brasa pulled away, nosing along her jaw and down to her neck. Lilah surprised herself when her lifted her chin, giving him more access.

The sharp press of his teeth snapped her awake. She sat up, breathing as if she’d been sprinting. Her entire body was shaking, her sheets damp with sweat.

“Well,” she croaked, “That’s new.”

[todaydreambelieversfic]

Author Spotlight: Coffeegleek Day 3

Author : @coffeegleek​

How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

At least a few revisions. Then multiple editing passes, and even with my spouse as my proofreader for the past 25+ years, and doing more editing passes before posting to AO3, I still find annoying little typos, sometimes large ones.

If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

There was a crack fic I stopped writing years ago. It was a self-challenge during one of those tumblr trope challenges. I was trying to combine all of the tropes into the same fic as they were announced. It got zero traction though so I gave up. I'd love to go back and complete it, make it better. I had the whole thing outlined too.

What do you look for in a beta?

My spouse. We've been together for decades. He's been proofreading my original science fiction work and various fandoms' fanfics since before we were married. He even proofreads my Klaine smut and doesn't blink an eye. (He's a Glee fan too and on tumblr.) He knows what I'm trying to say when I can't find the right words and supplies them. He catches things I don't. What I love the most is for my original work, he's written his own fanfic. It's BAD. It truly is, but it's so heartfelt and earnest. He even came up with a soundtrack should I ever publish my sci-fi novel and the movie or show rights be bought. You really can't get a better beta than that. <3

There’s a number of friends on tumblr that I bounce ideas off of and who give me advice for topics they know far more about than me and google. I try to thank them in my fics.

If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

I’m going to steal another author’s recent answer and say that I could never do someone else’s work justice. However, I would love to see the author’s ideas for their fics even if they couldn’t write a prequel or sequel.

I suck at remembering titles and author names. There were two political fics that I would love to read more of should their authors ever decide to write in those verses again. One was where Kurt and Blaine's dads were running for president and Kurt and Blaine were along for the ride, staying in the same hotels at time (where they first met,) having to do school remotely, having to be the perfect sons for the press and Blaine being fed up because his parents were conservative Republicans. Then there was another fic where Burt was president and Kurt was the First Son living in the White House, along with Finn, and it was hard to date when your every move is watched by the press.

Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I write AU, so canon is only a word often misspelled by me. :) Seriously though, I try to incorporate as many canon elements and characters into my AU fics as I can. It's the kind of AU I like to read as well. What draws me to read and write AUs is taking canon characters, putting them into a different setting, and seeing how they'll react. At their core, they still need to remain the same in principle and have many of the same traits. Like Kurt will always love fashion and be headstrong no matter what. Blaine is always going to have that spark within himself, no matter how depressed or oppressed he gets. Burt and Carole are always going to be loving and nurturing parents at heart. Even in fics where Burt isn't woke, there's a part of him that means well. (Not one of my own fics, but one I read a long time ago.) Different circumstances will change the canon characters and make them react in different ways though. Like, Kurt could end up more withdrawn and hide his love of fashion as a matter of survival and self preservation. He or Blaine could turn into "bad boys." Coach Beiste will always have a heart of gold. Miss Pillsbury will always have a problem with messes. Things like that. I know canon. Give me all the alternate universe versions of it and I will be a happy camper.

Talk about a review that made your day.

I haven't checked for reviews on my fics in ages (because I'm an insecure chicken) so I don't remember any specifically. I do remember there were many that made my day. There are those who take the time to review every chapter. Ones who write only a short note to thank me for writing the fic - both the angsty ones and the cracky fun ones. I love it when someone mentions something that no one else has that I was hoping someone would notice because I was proud of it. I'm not a popular author and don't get a lot of kudos or comments or reblogs compared to many. So each comment and kudos means a lot to me and I'd like to publicly thank every single person who wrote one or hit that kudos button.

Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

I once got a troll who decided it was his job to complain that I had misspelled hors d'oeuvres in one sentence out of an entire verse where the word was written multiple times correctly. It was a series of Klaine Advent one shots for the Empty Nest verse. At first I was shocked and replied with an apology. Then I was, "F this. The person is a troll who didn't read any other part of the fic or verse, just this one quickly written one shot entry, and if all they had to say was that I'd misspelled a commonly misspelled word, then they aren't worth my time." I deleted the comment. There's concrit and trolling. It wasn't concrit.

What advice do you have for people just starting to write?

Have fun writing, even the hard stuff. Know that it's okay to take breaks. Try your best and know you'll get better the more you write and the more you read. Pronouns are your friend and free. Don't put, "I know this is going to suck, so whatever," in your fic description. We all suck at times. It's a part of writing. But if you want folks to read it, using that as your fic's summary isn't the way to go. Just my opinions, which won't even buy you a cup of coffee.

Which fic do you most like to discuss with other people? Why?  

I think it’s pretty obvious from all of my rambling that I enjoy talking about both of my series - Empty Nest verse and A Very Hallmark Christmas verse.  I'm not a popular author and I know my fics, especially the Empty Nest verse ones, aren’t everyone’s thing, so I never get to really discuss them except with friends that I bug to death in private and via long replies to comments on AO3. (You all are saints blessed by all of the good and patient gods.) I have so much to say about them - the process of writing them, the world building, research, and character decisions that went into every single one. I know they’re not perfect. I know the Empty Nest verse grew miles beyond the ficlette about Burt and Carole that it was meant to be. I know my sense of humor in the Hallmark verse isn’t everyone’s thing either. I still worked really hard on them and am glad that I did. Empty Nest let me release a lot of the fear and anxiety I had for my Hispanic and gay son after the 2016 election. The Hallmark ones were a needed break to put some humor into my life. If others enjoyed them, great. If folks want to know more, my inbox is always open.

What's one aspect of writing fic that gets you really excited?

Writing humor even if I'm the only one that finds it funny. As I said above, writing the Hallmark Christmas movie dialogue and plot and the actors as they were filming it was a blast. Writing the commercials was fun and exciting. In my angsty fics, knowing I wrote a good scene, line, or moment that brought out all the feels. That's more of “satisfaction of a job well done” than excited.

***

Check out Coffeegleek’s Fics

Humorous Spooky Drabbles -  Humorous drabbles to spookish type prompts based on a tumblr post called October Drabble Prompts #1 by hallofceleano. The parts in bold and italic are from those prompts. Characters include Kurt, Blaine, Burt, Carole, and Finn. All fun; only #4 has some mild angst. #4 is for snarkyhag and regarding #5 - I know next to nothing about Twilight and had to look up Taylor Lautner on imdb. The liberties I took are my own.

A Very Sloppy Christmas - lucy8675309 posted to tumblr a series of gifs with Kurt dressed up as an elf. It inspired me to write the following prompt, which CoffeeAddict80 encouraged me to write as a fic:

I now want a fic where real Santa’s elf!Kurt gets drunk and vents to Blaine about all the woes of working for Santa. He’s over 100 years old and the outfits are terrible. Why couldn’t they wear clothes like the elves did in that one movie? Drunk elf Kurt has no idea he’s venting to Santa’s son.

Bonus if he wakes up and realizes he just had a drunken one night stand. He isn’t sure who it was with. Only that he’s naked, the guy in the bed beside him is naked and showing off a really great ass. Then said guy turns over and after Kurt’s done staring at his dick, he looks at the guy’s face and realizes who it is.

It’s a Twisted World -  I decided to challenge myself by combining the posted 5 weekly Klaine AU Friday themes and adding another one of my own. So that means: Farm, Fairytale, Vintage (1900’s,) Super Powers, Zombie Apocalypse, and Harry Potter World Klaine with a splash of a fic idea I thought of while in the produce section of the grocery store. Each week, the story will continue, though each part stands alone. This is not a brilliant work of perfectly composed fan fiction. What it is, is fast-paced, cracky fun, with a large dose of innuendo. At least it had my son laughing his ass off. I hope y'all enjoy it too. :)

[ilkkawhat]

All the numbers. (If not all then pick and choose a handful to answer).

lol you’re really going for it anon, huh?? 😂 bless your heart. I’ll do all of them and then idk. if anybody wants to send any again, I’m sure I can have a different answer

(I did just answer 7 & 22 so I’ll leave those out. rest below the cut)

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

I guess if you count all of my active WIPs that have been sitting dormant for months or years, there’s those since I like. I know what I’m doing in pretty much all of them, just as I know what I’m doing in some of my unpublished WIPs, but I think I just need to be in a certain mood/energy to do certain ones (ie, Agony esp is a very heavy fic so I gotta be able to Deal with that)

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

I deleted those 😂😂😂 but some of my reeeeeealllllly old stuff is still out there and I cringe thinking about that and though I could easily delete those too, I’m keeping them just since the harddrive that has the docs for it is corrupted lol

3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

Just all over the place these days tbh. Even chapter to chapter it’ll change, I’ll write snippets in future chapters--and I’m talking like three or four chapters ahead--just to get it out there. But then there’s other days where I’ll sit and just write and not stop.

4) favorite character you’ve written

Nick Stokes, of course 💜💜💜

5) character you were most surprised to end up writing

Any of the Macgyver characters outside of Jack. Cause though I’ll claim not to all the time, I do know that I know the CSI characters (though I’m surprised I’m able to write in their POVs outside of Nick.) I grew up with them. I have a bond with them. The mac characters? I’ve only known for like. two years now and not even that well anymore since I’ve stopped watching the show. 

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now

Expanding on details. Almost every fic I write, I’ll read it again later and be like “ah shit I should have run with this idea...” but I guess that’s how I can do a sequel/missing scene

8) favorite genre to write

hurt/comfort (emphasis on the hurt, really I mean we’re talking like borderline horror)

9) what, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

See I haven’t really honed in on any one particular thing that inspires me to write. It comes out of nowhere, and the following list of things doesn’t like, always work. When I’m listening to a song. When I’m driving in the car. When I’m watching something unrelated to the source material (totes got some inspiring vibes watching Falcon and The Winter Soldier yesterday tbh lmao) When I dream. When I go on a walk. When people send me asks and I just go the fuck off and suddenly ten chapters later I’m writing a fic that they probably didn’t even want (coughSpecimenStokescough)

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?

I think the last couple times I’ve like, really written it’s been in silence. Definitely alone. Don’t got people to write around, really lmao (unless you count my parents being in other rooms with obnoxiously loud televisions and tablets)

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?

All of it. And I’m sure it’ll keep improving.

12) your weaknesses as an author

Dialogue. I don’t know how people talk 😂

13) your strengths as an author

Detail, description, and I also like to think--emotion? but idk. It’s hard for me to assess my strength tbh

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?

Oh YES! At least for the longer WIPs like Last Breath or Agony. And listen to it on a loop when I’m trying to brainstorm or write if I want to write with music on. I’ve been starting to link the playlists when I’m doing with the fic (which is not many so far)

(I think Hellbound is the only one-shot I made a playlist for that I didn’t share)

15) why did you start writing?

I honestly can’t remember, cause I think I’ve been writing stories (fan fiction or not) ever since I was in middle school?? Maybe even elementary? But I do feel like I had gotten more encouragement for it than drawing from the few people in my life that did actively cheer me on, and there’s just something about writing that is so...fulfilling? Esp since I can’t like. Just manifest the images or make the “movie” in my head, at least I can write them down and hopefully convey what I see/feel in my mind through words.

16) are there any characters who haunt you?

All my neglected OCs lmao. I did and I guess on some level still do want to make an original series.

In a chilling way Veronica also haunts me cause I realize how much of that like, darkness in myself I put in her. 

And Nick, well, he’s just always on my mind.

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

Just fucking go for it! Don’t give a shit if anybody will read it or not. Take your time, flesh out those details. Describe what you see, what they see, what they feel. 

If you think you’re going too far...you’re not. 

keep going

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?

I mean any fan fiction I read in the past has probably influenced me on some level. I know that when I came back to CSI in 2018, reading all of kristen999′s nick whump def encouraged me cause I was like “oh...there’s others like me who like to see him hurt!?!?” and I do think that maybe sometimes after I read a fic, I might like. Try to incorporate those styles I see. The way words are described, sentences constructed. Not like, copy of course but I feel like a long time ago my writing wasn’t really idk, novel-like? very short, almost read like a script whereas now, since I’ve seen the way people write their stories (some novel length stories, too), I flesh mine out a lot more.

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

I don’t 😂 Thinking of my bigger projects like Agony, I do just kind make up some of it as I go with a rough outline although sometimes it is a bit more detailed--like First Flight actually has a super detailed outline but I know that once I start writing, something might come up, some twist I didn’t think of before--or even one that somebody suggests to me, but idk I feel like I do have a way of tying everything together regardless? Cause especially with those bigger WIPs I will try to go back and re-read if something seems familiar or if I’ve forgotten a detail, or if I’m planning on diving back into it after a long break from it. 

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

Depends. I feel more accomplished with the long sit down sessions so I target that, but lately it’s been little spurts with maybe one big dump at the end of the week.

21) what do you think when you read over your older work?

Mostly cringe, but there are times I’m like “holy shit this is really good???” 

like I remember recently I re-read Agony and loved it, when I wanted to delete it maybe like. a week before that. I think it honestly depends on my frame of mind, and why I’m going back to read the fic? Cause I’ve had times where I’m like “wait what was this one?” and then I read it and laugh at how bad it is, but then other times where I’m like, “I wanna read that one fic I did...” and then I do and it makes me happy.

But, I will always kinda criticize at the same time--”aw, I could do this better, I could have expanded on this,” etc

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?

My life is suuuuuuper boring so. not really lmao. One of my earliest CSI fics that actually created what I consider to be my number one OC (she’d be the lead in that original series I mentioned earlier) came out of me sitting and staring into a campfire lmao. 

also there was this teacher I had (one of those good IRL supports) that told me a story of something that happened to her (or was it her daughter?) and I turned it into a story (back in my teen days) so. I guess there are somethings. 

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?

Expert? No. But I will do numerous google searches to try and figure some stuff out and get lost in a rabbit hole of “research” for a while and hope that when I do write it, it comes off as I know what I’m doing when really, I do not lol.

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

haven’t really written much in this past week, and certainly nothing to be proud of, but this line hit me like a ton of bricks for Specimen Stokes and I’m in love with it:

“Because, my dear specimen, I wanted to see if you loved the danger...or if you loved me.”

[cytarabi]

Hey! I've become a huge fan of your fics on ao3. I wanted to know how do you push out so many beautiful chapters so quickly? What's your writing process like? I'm working on a big JB fic, which I'm trying to finish timely, but high quality. Always like to see how other writers do their thang! Thank you!

Hi! I remember your name!! <3 Thank YOU for the question and praise, that’s so sweet!!

I love seeing how other writers do their thang, too! And I’ve found it can be very, very different for each author.

TLDR I write a lot of my fic ahead of time. I outline the entire fic, chapter by chapter before I start writing. I use several tools to speed the process and/or to make it more artsy fartsy.

I’ve found that I’m a “plotter” and not a “pantser” (two main ways of writing, unless you hate being labeled lol.)

Plotter means that I prefer plotting out most of the story before I write the details. Here’s been my process for my multichapter fics:

1) I come up with an idea and let it brew! I think about key scenes or dialogue I love and I jot them down in my phone on Google notes. Write down your ideas, you’ll probably forget them.

2) During this brewing time, (for As Black As Thunder and my next fic) I take the time to read, read, read. I read works and jot more notes! I have an entire Google doc for Rebecca by Daphne de Maurier where I wrote down her tone usage, figurative language and summary of each chapter. I can’t tell you how much this has helped get me in the write TONE for the work. Tone is SO important. Readers reading a thriller will expect thriller beats! Deep Fried Drinks was a rom com, so the verbs, adjectives etc are very different from creepy Gothic. When I started As Black As Thunder (ABAT), wow, it was hard to nail the tone at first. But by the second half of the fic, I’m fully immersed in it and it’s much easier to create the tone naturally. Without using inspiration, I don’t think it would have turned out as well. For ABAT, I think I took two weeks of no writing, when I’m used to writing every day. It was hard not to write, but wow, was I ready when I started!

3) When I’m ready to outline, I do! I open a google doc for the fic and start throwing everything I can think of in there. My ABAT doc was only like three lines for 6 months... lol! I’ve only just started looking into story structure, so my older fics are all wonky. BUT for ABAT and Deep Fried Drinks, I tried to follow story structure for plots. First act, second act, third act, character arcs, etc. My longest fic, Time Stops, dropped a bunch of readers in the middle and I think it’s because my middle SAGGED majorly. I didn’t try to follow a structure, just sort of plotted it out how I wanted to, and it was probably very repetitive and boring. For ABAT, I plotted a mid point turn to spice things up, chose things to make the character more proactive, etc. I highly recommend Ellen Brock on Youtube for any plotting advice. She’s an editor, and I’ve learned so much!

4) Organize plot into chapters, write key notes for chapters and fill out background info. The first two are self explanatory, but the third is my favorite! One thing that speeds my writing (I have no idea if people do this or not) but I have lists. So many lists! For ABAT, I have lists of common outfits for characters (I usually hate writing about outfits but I’m glad I wrote more for this work). I also write the character arc for each main character. For ABAT, I have the following for Brienne:

Brienne 

Symbols: white crocus flower (purity, youthfulness, sensitive to rain), White begonia, Small birch saplings struggling for light

Goal: serve public, be idealistic, honorable

Lie: (hidden for spoilers)

Truth: (hidden for spoilers)

Flaw: stubborn, idealistic, watched her father get fame and respect for his engineering, wants to do the same thing and do it perfectly, doesn’t understand systemic racism 

Motivation: serve people, be accepted by the public, belonging, abandonment

Stakes: public rejection, Tarth name on the line, mockery, insanity, failure

So when I think about a curve ball for Brienne at any point of the story, this character section helps me stay true to character. I have a section for Brienne, Jaime, Cersei and Missandei. Cersei has a larger section because she’s a villain... ;)

In addition to this section, I also write down their personalities and strengths. You know, like if they went to an interview lol. For example, I have Missandei have the following strengths: 

Missandei

Adaptability: able to adapt

Intellection: introspective and appreciate intellectual discussions

Consistency: all people should be treated the same

Futuristic: fascinated by future

Learner: loves to learn

I ALSO have an emotion worksheet and this is SO USEFUL. They say in writing: show that the character is angry, not tell the reader. WELL, IDK about you but I can’t keep track of all the little quirks characters do and yet, I want them to be consistent. If while writing a scene, I sometimes think, “Hmm what is Jaime doing if he’s in awe right now?” I search for “awe” at the top of my fic, and bam, I have options, more or less. For a lot of emotions, I brainstormed ideas based on character traits, arcs, Gothic tone etc. I fill all of this out before I write the first chapter. 

Here’s an example of some emotions I have for ABAT:

Emotion List (remember to have introspection, unique perspective) 

Awe:

B: wrinkle deepened between brows, parted lips, fixed gaze, stands still

J: arched brow, open mouth, stare, goes closer

C: lowering chin or raising chin, goes closer

M: adaptable, quick to react

Deceptive:

B: looking away, walking away

J: scratching ear

C: smiling, neatly placed hands

M: long blink

Thoughtfulness:

B: staring off, quiet, daydreaming

J: staring at object important to him, twisting pencil or object in his hand, squeezing his hand

C: squeezing hand, staring at object she wants to get rid of or improve

M: daydreaming, staring off at her own outfit—it’s foreign

5) Now the fun part: writing! I used to write with scene structure outline, but I think I’ve grown off the training wheels. But it really helped me in Deep Fried Drinks to plot out the chapter scenes ahead of time, and I used Ellen Brock’s proactive and reactive videos to help me out with that. I throw on some music to get me in the mood of the story and I write during my kid’s nap, about two hours every day. Sometimes I’ll write at night, but lately I’ve been too tired to do that. My tip for this part is to try and figure out what you want to improve. What are you good at, and what could you improve as a writer? My first fics had like zero figurative language. Awkward. This takes a level of awareness that’s hard to reach but watching or researching creative writing technique really helps me. For example, I used to NEED to write all five senses out for each chapter ahead of time. Now it comes naturally to me! I would say now my main issue is phrasing? Pacing? And I need to tone down the melodrama for my next work....... lol! I write, write, write--and usually, I write 60-90% of the fic before I start editing!

6) Editing. Fun fun fun. I don’t mind editing, I just don’t think I’m that GOOD at it. I try to read through my chapter twice and edit as I go. I look for things I want to take out or add, look for show vs tell, formatting, etc--do things make sense? Did I miss anything? In ABAT, I’ll write something in chap 20 that I need to start in chap 18, so I’ll go back and make a quick note to “add part about document somewhere in this chapter” so I don’t confuse readers. When I edit chap 18, I’ll add that line or paragraph in. It’s all an intricate web! I also have a list of vague words I try to eliminate or replace with stronger words (I have more words if you want them). I found that I have certain words or phrases that echo a lot, like “while”, “turned around”, “turned” or “did not”--now I search for these phrases/words and try to change them:

Get rid of vague words, fix by explaining more:

Some 

While

Thing

Stuff

Very

Really

Big/small

Good/bad

Simple verbs: had, was, went

Got/get

Few

Several

What

Do/Did

It

Like with all writing “rules”, they can be broken, but it helps to know why they are rules. I steered away from adverbs, and I think it improves my writing. Other writers have different prose and adverbs work so well--it all depends on your style! If I find these vague words in dialogue, for example, I almost never change them because dialogue is usually freaking vague lol!

7) Beta reader(s)! I honestly think this work is better than my other stuff because I have a newer beta reader, theunpaidcritic!!! *I bow* She’s literally an expert so it’s SO helpful for me in every way--I can’t fangirl about her enough. If you’re struggling to get a beta reader, I recommend joining a JB discord (transformative werk is my favorite discord, and there is a beta read request thread) or post a request on reddit!

8) Post! Once you’ve edited and gone over beta reader notes, it’s time to post! Congrats!!!!!!!!!!

For time reference, I started this process around mid-May for ABAT, and I will be done by early September. Maybe I’m just a fast writer? Compared to angel-deux, ha, I look slow. Everyone is different! Please let me know if you have any other questions, I am ALL about helping out! :) <3 <3 <3