#talking about so many and the only wips without teasers are the new ones that I JUST posted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

br1ghtestlight · 1 year

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i know you didn’t rb it, but i wanted to send you some fanfic writer asks anyway (if you want to do them!!) how about - 3, 4, 18, 19? 💖

AWWW this is so sweet thank you!! of course!!! <3

3. what’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

i feel like it would be a lie to say anything other than my genderfluid gene fanfiction just bcuz i spent a ridiculous amount of time on it and still reread it somewhat frequently lol but other than that im also proud of the fanfiction i wrote abt bob's mom and her death :) very interesting themes to explore and i liked writing the childhood flashbacks

4. how many wips do you have right now?

there are so many i couldn't even count them all probably at least 30+ but for fanfictions im actively working on or TRYING to work on uhh maybe like 5 or 6 depends on the day. always starting new ideas

18. what’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

i definitely dont remember every line of dialogue ive ever written so i might be forgetting something but i really like linda talking to louise abt consent as a toddler ("Louise, I promise that we will NEVER try to steal your bunny ears, or tell you to take them off and not give them back to you afterwards. Not ever. We know that you love your bunny ears, and I made 'em special for you. Even if you're the baddest, meanest girl in the whole world, those bunny ears belong to you. They'll always be yours. Nobody is ever allowed to take them off without your permission, except for you. Not even Mommy or Daddy is allowed to do that.") and tina telling zeke that she'll always be there for him ("I'll be here for you no matter how scary it gets," Tina whispered.)

19. give us a small teaser from one of your wips

not sure if this counts as small but it doesn't make sense without the full context i dont think?? not even sure if im ever going to finish this one but its cute. it isnt from my tina x jimmy jr childhood friends to lovers fanfic btw this is just a silly sleepover fic i was writing

Jimmy Junior looked at Tina as she talked. She was wearing purple horse pajamas and he thought that they looked cool. "Do you want me to paint your nails?"

He had to have zoned out of their conversation, because he had no idea what was going on but Zeke was looking at Tina like everything she was saying made perfect sense. He had a goofy smile.

"Hell yeah! I want you use black for mine, and give 'em red and orange flames comin' off my fingers. That'll look cool as hell."

"What about you, Jimmy Junior?" Tina asked.

Tina was never cruel to him. She'd never teased him for his lisp or said that his dancing was stupid and annoying, even when they were fighting and she had every reason to be insulting to him. He wasn't always an amazing friend to her and he hadn't said enough how much he appreciated that she'd been there for him since preschool. They'd grown up together. Tina had been around when his younger brothers were born, and when his parents got their divorce finalized and he couldn't stop crying during school. They'd played together on the playground and shared their first kiss at her thirteenth birthday party, and through everything Jimmy Junior always knew that Tina loved him and had a good heart. Better than his.

He still couldn't help but pause for a second and try to figure out if she was trying to embarrass him or make a mockery of him somehow. Nobody had ever asked to paint his nails before, and he'd honestly considered makeup something that was completely forbidden. It was condemned only to his mother's bathroom cabinet and taken out when she was going on a date with somebody she wanted to impress. He wasn't ALLOWED to wear makeup.

#idk if i can fully take credit for that tina dialogue bcuz it was partly inspired by something else lol #ask #bob's burgers

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btssavedmylifeblr · 4 years

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Quarantine Writing

So... despite having vastly abundant amounts of free time in the last month, my writing practice has dwindled to basically nothing.

*I’m not looking for pity here. I still have my job and my loved ones are healthy, so I am very lucky in the grand scheme of things. I’m only sharing my struggles to help those going through similar creative slumps and to explain my new plan for my writing and my blog.

After some self analysis, here’s what I think my hurdles are:

1. Loneliness - It turns out that I am an extrovert. I’ve always been on the fence about this, but the quarantine has clarified it for me. While my husband can happily be productive all day long with limited interaction from other people, I cannot. My normal day job involves a lot of interaction with others, so writing was a quiet thing I could do for myself as a way to relax, but since my job has become virtual in the last month, there is much less interacting with real people involved and I’m really missing human interaction. When I am already lonely for most of the day, shutting myself alone in my office to write has been very hard to talk myself into.

2. Lack of routine - Without my usual day job schedule, my entire weekly routine has been thrown into chaos. My waking/sleeping schedule is not predictable, I take naps at random times, I forget to eat for extended periods then eat too much. It’s a mess. The early morning and weekend time when I would usually do my writing just bleeds into all the other time and I don’t end up doing anything useful.

3. Analysis Paralysis - When I do finally get up the will to write, I find myself trapped by the number of works-in-progress I have and unable to decide which one to work on. So I flit back and forth between them, feeling unsure and unsatisfied and not making any real progress with any of them.

4. Stress - This is the reason no one should be beating themselves up over not living their best lives right now. The news is terrifying and is constantly bombarding us with a huge problem and then being told that the only solution for many of us is to do nothing. I am spending way too much time reading the news and then panicking and convincing myself that nothing I do matters in the face of this crisis.

New Plan - Twitter writing sessions

So I’m going to start having daily writing sessions on Twitter. Not the live writing that I have done in the past, but scheduled times when I am writing, public goal setting, and public accountability. Here’s why I think it may help:

1. People to talk to as I write - I’m going to post goals for the day so people know what I am working on and will probably also be posting snippets/teasers of what I’m working on so I feel less alone in my suffering.

2. Planning in advance when I’ll be writing - Feeling accountable to others is one of my best motivations in life. If I tell other people I’m going to be writing and I know they are looking forward to it, it is hugely helpful to me actually turning up. Even if no one is actually paying attention but I just think they are, I think it will be helpful.

3. Twitter decides what I work on - Rather than deciding myself what I want to work on, I’m going to post polls so Twitter can decide for me. My main goal is to finish my WIPs, so it shouldn’t actually matter to me what I work on and the struggle to choose is making the whole thing harder. Probably it will always be Void, but that is useful data for me to have.

4. Make some progress - I can’t control anything about this crisis or the world beyond my own personal choices. But I can write stories that distract people for short periods of time. That is what I can contribute. And I think feeling like I am contributing something will be very good for my stress levels.

So follow me on Twitter if you want to vote on what I’m working on / keep me company as I battle my writing demons.

#on writing #coronapocalypse #trying this and seeing if it helps

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loudest-subtext-in-tv · 5 years

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A Study in Fate teaser

Here’s the first 2200 words of a novel-length fanfic that I’ll finish sometime this year. It’s a WiP on an atypical schedule: At a later date I’ll release the rest of the first chapter, but then I’ll release everything else all at once.

Some authors don’t like if you hassle them to hurry up, but I may find it motivating. I’m going to attempt to get better at answering my asks/comments so feel free to ask me things about this fic, but keep in mind there’s a lot of things I won’t answer. Please be aware that no one cares if you don’t like first person perspective.

Though a big aspect of this story is about how to manage depression, it starts in a relatively dark place and weaves in and out of it. If you can’t handle unresolved distant thoughts of suicide right now, maybe wait until the entire story is posted.

Finally, I am doing okay financially right now, but two of my fandom friends are not. If you’ve ever wanted to give me money, I now have a Patreon. Anything you give me will help me help them.

Description: After the events of The Empty Hearse, Sherlock struggles to figure out who he is now that John no longer seems willing to play a prominent role in his life. As his mind runs in circles trying to parse their relationship and determine who threw John in the bonfire, his world is shattered by an enigmatic visitor: himself, bearing bad news from the future.

Series 3 time travel remix; series 4 compatible.

Tags and warnings: first person present, agonizing slow burn, explicit but romantic, depression, suicidal ideation, NOT FLUFF, self-actualization

Read on AO3 or under the cut:

Chapter One - The Curtain Rises

One can’t get far without an organizing principle. Every man needs one drive to which all others are subordinate, a touchstone that seizes him with purpose.

I had one once.

Now I have chips.

Dreadful organizing principle, chips: once you’ve got them, there’s nothing propelling you forward anymore. Have enough of them and you hardly want to move at all. God. I was in the best shape of my life, body and mind, and now I’m turning into Mycroft.

Except Mycroft has already transcended these struggles — or so he claims. Yet again, I’m lagging behind on a path I never wanted to follow. Splendid.

Any moment Mrs Hudson will come out and start chattering away about you. That will set me back the rest of the day, yet I won’t ascend the stairs. Does no part of my mind demand control of my brain stem? I’m meant to be some kind of genius: Any visionary corner of my psyche eager to make something of me? No takers?

No. Life is now nothing more but the wandering of here to there. And thoughts like that are why everyone thinks I’m a baby, so for god’s sake stop.

I am all too stopped.

Depression is a dowsing rod: shows you where to dig. So: Why do I halt here, at the bottom of the stairs? Why can’t I face the only place I’ve ever belonged?

It’s not merely that you don’t live here anymore. Not quite. That would be too easy.

Where are you wandering now, John? You got off work an hour ago. No one's called to alert me you've been kidnapped, so there's one thing I didn't miss today.

Still figuring that out, darling. Off my game. Maybe was never on it. Against my better judgment I let romance rot my mind, and you're the one who's suffered most. But I've recovered from less noble chemical weaknesses than your company. Against all odds I still draw breath. If I make myself do nothing else, I will turn this around. I'll prove you can rely on me.

Any threatening emails? You don't just attempt to incinerate a man and move on. For god's sake, give me something.

Oh. A text. Not a threat; a video from the homeless network. Must have been delayed whilst I was on the tube.

There you are, alive and unwell, and here responds my heart but it's nothing. Mere streets away from me, and nowhere near her flat. Why do you do this, John? Is your phone broken? We could just talk about this. Give me another chance and I swear I won't come on so strong. I was too presumptuous when we last spoke weeks ago. I broke your heart, I'm monstrous; you're no longer fond. I get it.

You're no longer fond, but you're in need of a hit. Which is curious, you realize. You understand how a man would get the impression... But no. I won't presume. Life is boring and I'm dangerous and bless you, you need a hit. Just come get one. I'll pretend I'm managing, I'll find a way to switch on that whole persona for you and you can do your hero worship thing. I won't act desperate.

Just show up, and I will respect your wishes.

Do anything but pensively stop on the sidewalk in front of shops you have no intention of entering. It just screams, I'm distracted! Kidnap me! It's been an age and I know you despise me, but if you keep doing this I'm going to have to conduct surprise drills again.

Maybe you're trying to get kidnapped. I wouldn't put it past you. Maybe it would be charity to send a car around for you to blithely climb into. Do you even think about how that would make Mary feel, John?

Of course, it's me you're thinking about right now. The tension in your posture, the unconscious clenching of your hand, the conflict evident on your face even from this distance: definitely me.

You know, I wasn't the only one who presumed. The papers presumed, the entire British populace presumed, even your sister presumed and surely she'd -- No matter. You've made yourself clear. Just: spare a thought for "the best thing that's ever happened" to you. I've no talent for consoling women on my best days, and I'd hate to see how I'd fare in a worse state than her.

No, I don't know that. I don't know that I love you more than she does. She's never broken your heart.

Oh. Wait, why...? For god's sake, Pilar, why would you approach him? He'll notice.

Well. Can't complain about seeing your eyes more clearly. Not good for my recovery. And there, yes, you've noticed. Paranoia in full swing, hackles raised, and a step forward. 'Can I help you?' in your usual tone that fashions a threat from etiquette.

Not good for my recovery, no. The things you do to my blood, John.

'Got a pound?'

'For someone recording me?' You scoff, narrow your eyes. 'Are you...?'

'Say, aren't you John Watson?' Oh, clever girl. Look at him, pretending he's not pleased to be recognized.

Yet nothing is ever simple with you, John.

'Yeah.' You're either too smart or too suspicious for your own good. (Freud would presume. I'm only saying.) 'Did he...?' You look directly at the camera; at me.

Come on! You assume it’s me? When roaming bands of criminals have set you aflame? Oh here we go, that spark in your eye -- you're going all in:

'Did you put her up to this?'

Oh well.

'Who? What makes you say that, sir?'

'Uh, well he does it all the time.' I don't. 'You know what? Just send it to him.'

'Not sure what you mean, sir.'

'Oh,' you laugh, 'you're not sure what I mean. Stop bloody recording me.'

And that's the end of that.

So. Guess you won't be coming over this week either. Or will you? Are you angry enough to confront me? It's not stalking when it's for your own protection -- just ask my brother, John. God knows he could use the conversation.

I’ve got to find more discreet operatives.

> Next time don't be so obvious.

When did she send this? Ten minutes ago. No, if you were going to come over, you would have arrived by now.

I suppose you’ve already said everything you have to say. But not even a text for stalking, John? I thought we had a connection.

Or we did. Before Moriarty won.

Not your fault. All mine. I underestimated him, failed to foresee the lengths to which he'd go for his insane plan. Didn't realize how many pieces he'd put on the board. Stupid.

A ping:

i thought youd like it? before you whinged you cant hardly see him

It was only supposed to be months, John. Then dozens of pulled threads later and you'd already gone and shacked up with a woman! That's what I get for being thorough.

And not even thorough enough. But if I wasn't thorough enough then neither was MI6, John. If Moriarty still had operatives in London, that's on Mycroft. And me. But definitely on Mycroft.

I don't know. Hate not knowing.

Are we really never going to talk about this? I took down an international crime syndicate for you, and you broke up with me on your blog?

No, no -- sorry. I take full responsibility.

This is ridiculous. I don't know why anyone comes to me to solve their problems. I can't even make it up the stairs.

Ah.

That's it, isn't it? I don’t live up there anymore, either.

Yes. Everyone says you can find Sherlock Holmes just up those stairs, back from the dead and cleverer than ever! Like most things everyone says, it’s not true. I search for him in these rooms daily, and all the evidence points to this: Sherlock Holmes was a character created by John Watson. An exciting story. A fairy tale. (Dare I say a fantasy?)

People will believe anything you tell them, John, and they did. You were so sure I was a hero that even I came to believe it in the end. Now they only keep believing it because I lied. I was never steps ahead, never as infallible as you made me out to be -- and now that you've quit writing me I'll never be anyone at all.

But I'm doing it again. Getting histrionic. I'm not the first nobody to have his heart broken. They all get on with life.

Well: usually. Technically speaking, the most invested ones turn to murder or suicide. On the upside, murder is still in the cards: Assuming I can pull it together long enough to hunt down the appropriate parties, they are murderers and it would be doing the world a favor to murder them right back. In the course of any such investigation there will tend to arise situations in which I would have no choice but to murder them -- or, fortune willing, sacrifice myself so that you may live. Or both! Now that would be a power play: cleanse the board of evil, preserve the king. The ideal way to die may yet fall into my lap.

It's nice to have things to look forward to.

But say it doesn't pan out. Given my recent track record it would be foolish to place undue faith in my forecasting abilities, and after all, I don't know for certain this has anything to do with Moriarty's network. He pulled so many rugs out from under me I'm always half expecting yet another rug. I may grow as paranoid as you, John, with him skulking about in my head. For all I know everyone involved was in Moran's network, and I'm chasing after people who are already in custody. Maybe there's no grand end, no power plays, no relief.

That leaves suicide.

I'm not saying I will, John. I refuse to break your heart again. And it would be no way to honor the lengths to which you've gone to preserve my life. They're mere thoughts. They come and go -- always have, and I always haven't. I'm not going to do it, and if I am, I can always do it later.

But no appealing alternative has revealed itself. Only the obvious path for the invested: live like everyone else, and finally sever myself from aspiring to anything meaningful or exciting. Growing up, they call it.

Freud called it repression, so let's hold off on drastic measures. I made this life work before and I can make it work again.

Of course, that was easy for Freud to say: Being invested in life isn't an exercise in masochism when you have a lifelong companion. Not to be maudlin, John, but I wasn't making it work until you came along. Not truly. You were the gear that made it all click. I couldn't become Sherlock Holmes until you facilitated it.

It felt like the strength you granted me persisted during our years apart, but it's no surprise I drifted off course the moment you weren't at my side. That's not superstitious, John, that’s just a cold fact. You would have caught the little things I didn't. You would have kept my ego in check.

But what's done is done. I'll muster some strength for you. Reinvent myself again. Reorder my mind, keep myself off the needle and the pavement until I tie up these loose ends. Then... who knows.

Maybe someone else will come along.

Well. Feels good to laugh.

I’ve got to get on with it. Life may be a flight of uncarpeted stairs, but I'm sick of being down here.

'Going out, dear? John didn't call, did he?'

Will I always be this damned slow?

I sigh loudly, not that it will make any difference. 'No, and no.' You scowl like you do when I talk about him. 'Just getting in.'

You frown. 'But we were just talking.'

My heart leaps. 'You and John?'

'No, silly.' My heart falls. You tilt your head; smile. 'You and me.'

'You were talking. I was out.'

You shake your head and laugh, a cheery, infuriating tinkle. 'You had quite a lot to--'

'Mrs Hudson.' For god's sake, do not go senile on me. Not one more straw.

'Is it drugs, dear?' Terrible, hushed pity. Everyone always leaps straight to drugs! 'Oh don't get angry, I know all the signs! The nerve of him, putting you in this state. I'd say a few things to him, if only he'd come around once in a--'

Anything has got to be better than this.

'Project much?' The stairs are fine two at a time.

'I need those for my hip!’

'Adjust your dose! You're clearly...’ What?

What in the world?

'That would explain so much,' he says, and the room tilts.

Through the door. There I am. There he is.

Sherlock Holmes.

End notes:

In The Lying Detective, Sherlock tells Faith that chips are “the only perk” of being suicidal. In The Empty Hearse, he was eating chips when Mary told him John had been kidnapped.

John’s most recent blog entry before this story takes place is The Empty Hearse. It’s a mindfuck minefield for poor Sherlock, but we’ll get into that more soon. For now, know it contains this doozy: “Oh, and in other news, I’ve got engaged. But, it’s not something I’m really going to talk about much here. I want to keep some things private. I will say, though, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Sorry, Sherlock :)”

I borrowed the name Pilar from Sherlock Holmes and the Baker Street Irregulars: The Fall of the Amazing Zalindas, a novel by Tracy Mack and Michael Citrin. I’ve never read it, mind, it just seems like it wouldn’t be the sort of thing Sherlock would assign to Wiggins, and Wiggins would never be so sloppy.

Sherlock is obsessed with Freud. One Freud reference in The Abominable Bride, which was constructed entirely from Sherlock’s drugged out brain, came from Mycroft, who asked John if he was aware of theories of paranoia. Freud believed paranoid people were closeted homosexuals, heavily insinuating that Sherlock believes John is a closeted homosexual. Freud meta to come later; he’s very important.

Freud was with his wife for 57 years.

“Life is a flight of uncarpeted stairs” is from the poem “Spring” by the early 20th century queer poet Edna St. Vincent Millay. She ended up dying of a heart attack that made her fall down the stairs, which is itself poetic. Though she was a woman, I think it’s realistic Sherlock would know about her: the Casebook notes that Sherlock reads the agony aunt columns in women’s magazines because they contain all of life and are pertinent to his line of work, and in the same spirit I’ve made him familiar with all old famous love letters, for which she’s renowned. We also know Sherlock is familiar with Shakespeare and moved enough to remember entire soliloquies, so there’s no way Sherlock could read “Spring” and not retain some of it — especially as John and Mary had been aiming for a spring wedding, and the poem references April, which is just wrapping up as the fic begins.

#tjlc #johnlock #fanfic #my fanfic #A Study in Fate #this was a nightmare to format on an iPhone

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mayquita · 6 years

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You’re My Best Friend (1/4)

I know, I know, I'm the worst. I should be working on one of my multiple wips, but instead, I have not only decided to write this story but I've turned it into a new wip. This was meant to be a little story, written as a birthday gif for my best virtual friend, Sara, but as usual, I got carried away and the small one-shot has become a multichapter.

Maybe I should wait to post the full story, but I think @saraswans deserves more for her birthday than a simple imageset, so here's at least the first part. (Still, this comes ten days late) As good news, the second part is almost finished, I will post it at the end of the week. The bad news, I don't know when I will be able to finish the rest, but I will try to make it as soon as possible.

(This is unbeta'd, so I apologize in advance for the many mistakes and nonsense)

Summary: Emma shares her passion for Queen with her best friend Killian, with her son and with the rest of her friends. What will happen when Henry encourages them to participate in a Queen karaoke party? Will Emma (or Killian) finally dare to express her (or his) hidden feelings through the lyrics of a song?

Rating: T — Words count: ~1500 — A03 — Ffnet

Special Queen Karaoke party at The Rabbit Hole.

Don't miss it!

"We have to go, mom!" Henry almost shouted, bouncing excitedly in his seat, while holding the flyer with one hand and putting it right in front of Emma's eyes.

Emma and her son were in Granny's sharing their traditional Sunday brunch with the rest of their friends. Henry had not only gotten flyers for her, but he also was handing out one for each of them, while hastily commenting on ‘ how cool it would be to get on stage and pretend to be Freddie Mercury for once.’

She wasn't surprised that her friends welcomed the news of the event with enthusiasm while humming in approval. In fact, if there was something that her group of friends had in common, it was their passion for Queen, a passion that her twelve-year-old son had also acquired and that had even increased after watching Bohemian Rhapsody, the movie, a few months ago. Since then, Queen's songs played at all hours both in her apartment and in her car.

Emma had even come to almost lose interest sometimes. After hearing the same songs over and over again, it was as if, somehow, Queen's magic had begun to fade, becoming a repetitive background sound. That weird feeling hardly lasted, though. It could always be worse. Henry could be a reggaeton fan or whatever the latest style of music was, Emma reminded herself, wrinkling her nose in disgust and turning up the player's volume even more, letting the lyrics of Don't Stop Me Know drag any vestige of another kind of ‘music.’

"Henry's right, I don't even remember the last time we went out together at night. It will be fun." Of course, Mary Margaret would agree with the plan, both her words and the wide smile that appeared on her face making it evident.

"And my dear granny can babysit Leo and Roland." Ruby added pointing to the smaller children. Leo, David and Mary Margaret's son, was one of the reasons why they had reduced their nights out. The adorable baby was barely eight months old and kept his parents busy and exhausted all the time.

Roland, on the other hand, was Robin's five-year-old son, David's best friend. Robin's wife, Regina, had adopted him shortly after their marriage — his first wife had passed away when Roland was just a baby — and now the three of them formed a cute little family.

Ruby, Emma herself, and her best friend Killian —who wasn't there yet, by the way— remained the only singles in the group. Although all of them had known each other for many years, the new additions made it increasingly difficult for them to relive their wild nights from the past, having to settle for Sunday brunch instead. But at least they managed to meet once a week, without exception. That was something Emma valued more than anything, after so many years living alone, with no one to care about her, or no one to take care of. Until Henry arrived, that's it.

For that reason, the idea of spending a night with friends, without responsibilities while enjoying their favorite music was too tempting to turn it down. The possibility of seeing Killian take the improvised stage to perform some of her favorite songs, even if it was a karaoke version, was a bonus that she could not ignore.

Only when her son started talking again, trying to choose the most appropriate song for each of them, Emma realized that she might not be able to witness the event. She shook away the incipient sense of disappointment with a subtle movement of her head, deciding to act instead as the responsible mother she was (or that she should be at least)

"Sorry, kid, but I'm afraid we're not going to make it."

Henry's head snapped around looking for her, the confusion marked on his face. "We? How's that?"

"You're twelve buddy, which means you're not allowed to be in a bar at night, and since your potential babysitters will be all there, I'm afraid we're going to have to reject the proposal."

A flash of disappointment crossed his face, his brow furrowed while he hurried to whine, "But mom, it's a Queen tribute karaoke! We have to go! We need to go!" His lips drew a dramatic pout as he put his hands together as a sign of prayer. Emma should have imagined that Henry wasn't going to give up so easily. She was about to reply when Ruby got ahead of her.

"I'm sure Granny won't mind watching him, even he can help her with the little ones." She offered while she ruffled Henry's hair in an affectionate gesture.

Before answering, Emma saw out of the corner of her eye how her son pulled out his phone and started typing. A few seconds later, a wide grin blossomed on his face. "Problem solved. Avery has offered to have a sleepover in his house, so mom, don't worry, I may not go, but you're going."

"Where are we going?" Her heart skipped a beat when she heard Killian's voice. Her face turned automatically in the direction of the sound to find her best friend had just arrived. Although his lips drew a soft smile the moment their gazes met, the dark circles under his eyes and some deep lines of expression indicated the tiredness accumulated after having to get up early on Sunday.

She also didn't overlook his deliberate use of the ‘we ’, as if they were part of the same pack. Well, to be honest, where was the lie? Except for sleeping —even they had slept together on some occasions. Just sleep — and working, they did almost everything together. That's what best friends were for, to share the good and not so good moments, right?

He approached their booth, dropping into the seat next to her and letting out a heavy breath.

"You're late. Tough session, I suppose?" Robin asked.

"It has been a bloody nightmare." Killian ignored the disapproving glances that both Regina and Mary Margaret directed at him and continued talking after a short pause. "Anyone remind me why I teach sailing to preteens." Realizing his mistake, Killian addressed Henry immediately. "Don't take it personally, lad, you're much smarter and well educated than all those spoiled brats."

"Teaching sailing is your passion." David reminded him.

"And in your own words, young people assimilate information much better because they have fewer concerns in their minds." Emma quoted. It was true, Killian's passion for the sea and sailing was well known to all of them, as well as his extraordinary patience when he tried to pass on his knowledge to little children.

Most of the young students adored him — and also many of their mothers and some fathers, by the way. — Emma had witnessed several displays of affection and admiration from them. But she better than anyone else knew that sometimes children could be exasperating.

"Okay, okay, I get it." He sighed as leaned even more against the back of the seat. "It's easy to forget it sometimes, especially when two of those little scoundrels decide to get into a fight for any nonsense." Killian dragged a hand down his face and rubbed at the scruff on his jaw as if he wanted to erase the vestiges of the previous altercation. "Anyway, now that the nightmare has finally ended, I prefer to occupy my mind with something more agreeable. So where are we going?"

Henry handed him one of the flyers as he explained. "It's in two weeks from now, and we've all agreed to go."

His face lit up as his eyes fell on the flyer, though he quickly schooled his features, directing a glance at Henry through his narrowed eyes."We?" His gaze drifted for a second to Emma as he arched an eyebrow subtly. She replied with an almost imperceptible shake of her head. One more sign of their unwavering friendship was the ability to understand each other without the need to talk, she thought as a warm sensation spread through her body. "I'm afraid you won't be able to join us this time, my boy."

"Oh, come on, Killian! It's a karaoke party! With Queen songs!"

He was persistent, she would give him that. But he was also behaving in a somewhat manipulative way, trying with Killian since he knew in advance that he had a soft spot for her son. "Nice try, buddy, but don't forget that you already have plans with Avery."

"Fine," He huffed, raising his arms and then dropping them in an over-dramatic gesture. "But since I'm not going to go, at least I'll need graphic proofs of what will happen."

That she could guarantee. She would be in charge of taking pictures and videos, since she wouldn't sing. It didn't matter that Queen was her favorite band, that she would be surrounded by friends or that it would be nothing more than karaoke. No way was she going to get on top of an improvised stage to perform. That wasn't happening.

The Henry of this story is a little inspired by my own son, who is also twelve years old and a little obsessed with Queen (just like his mother...)

A tiny teaser from the next chapter: "It's a shame, because there's a song that suits you perfectly."

Thanks for reading :)

#cs ff #cs au #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs au ff #you're my best friend #happy belated birthday sara!#and thank you so much for everything!#love you!#mayquita writes #my cs writings

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thisstableground · 5 years

Note

2, 3, 7, 20 for the writing asks !!

2. Favorite part of writing.

the sense of company and feeling recognised. i’ve made a lot of friends who i wouldn’t have connected with if they didn’t recognise themselves in the things i write. and in particular for trio fic, even when i write things that dont get much of a response, the characters kind of keep me company. thinking about how they deal with difficult things helps me through my own life situations, write about them being relaxed and happy helps me chill out when i’m stressed. being able to write traits that, when i’ve seen them myself i’ve hated, but in the characters i find endearing or understandable or valid helps me feel that way about myself.

3. Least favorite part of writing.

i sometimes invest so much in the response that even a thing i’ve loved writing and i’m really proud of, if nobody responds then i worry that it’s bad and that i’ve lost my touch. there’s a very ruben part of me i’m trying to work on that thinks if i wasn’t making art and fic that people wanted to read, nobody would have a reason to talk to me.

also sometimes i get frustrated because i’m writing the fic i wanna read since nobody else is going to write it, but sometimes i just want to read fic without it being by me. curse of a tiny fandom.

7. Favorite author.

terry pratchett, by a long shot. i like that he has a sort of. cynical optimism, i guess? he writes people who are messy and flawed and often bastards, but they’re all so human, and for whatever cynicism he does have, so many of his characters try. they often don’t even think of themselves as good people, but so many of them they are trying to do the right thing in spite of that. not even because they enjoy doing so or want to, but because someone has to. it’s only in the past few years that i’ve really come to appreciate the value of effort and i think he writes effort so well and realistically.

20. Post a snippet of a WIP you’re working on.

i’m working on three WIPs right now (yes, simultaneously, because why do things by halves), so here is a little teaser from a new one-shot i’m writing about ruben’s experiences of vacation as he grows up, this first one taking place just after his dad ditches:

eating his ice-cream, licking off the melting trickles that are trying to escape up his wrist, ruben is hit by the sudden epiphany that this how their family is supposed to be. they’re a little tireder than before, a little sadder for experience, a little smaller without dad there, but better for it. ruben and mama have everything they need, together here in montego bay, jamaica.

#fandom: do no harm #character: ruben #pumpkin-spiced-scribbler

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demonzdust · 6 years

Note

Shut Up - Thiam?

From the WIPs Meme

Title: Shut UpShips: Theo Raeken/Liam DunbarSummary: Theo dances with Liam to help make Hayden and her new boyfriend jealous and Liam is forced to recognize a newfound attraction.

And here, I can share a teaser for this one:

The loud base vibrates on the floor beneath Liam’s feet, it echoes off the walls and drums in his skull in a heavy rhythm.

“What?” he shouts for the third time in a row, hardly able to hear what Theo is saying to him.

Theo looks exasperated. He grabs Liam’s wrist in an attempt to tug him closer but Liam snaps it from his grip. He was not in the mood to feel Theo’s cold smooth fingers on him.

In fact, he would never in the mood for that.

“Do. Not. Touch me.” he lays down the law, only just barely preventing his eyes from flickering gold at him.

“I said-” Theo raises his voice, as he steps closer to Liam, his brows now creased in annoyance. “That you need to stop standing there stiff as a board. You stick out like an idiot.”

Anger rushes through Liam’s veins at the (probably true) criticism. It’d been six months since Liam graduated and joined Scott in his effort to protect pack’s from Monroe across the country. Six months of hardly more than a few weeks in a town before they had to leave.

Which Liam actually found kind of fun most of the time, even if Scott usually stuck him with Theo as a partner in their exploits.

But this town is different.

Because this town is home to the university that his ex-girlfriend attended.

“It’s stick out like a sore thumb.” he growls, inching back a bit from Theo’s close proximity. “You, jackass.”

“Not when you do it.” Theo bites back, unperturbed by the flexing muscles in Liam’s arms. “You look like some kind of serial killer. Like you’re about to snap and slaughter everythone in here.”

Liam swears Theo must like getting hit, because he’s constantly asking for it.

“You’re really one to talk.” he spits back. “How many people have you killed, again?”

A smug smile envelope Theo’s features.

“Yeah, but I don’t look like I do…”

Liam rolls his eyes and Theo jerks his chin towards the numerous club patrons, all bouncing and swaying to the rhythms swimming in the air around them.

Mason would love this place. It’s a mixed crowd of college-aged patrons, full of spectacular lights and the glowing shots in long tubes. Beer sloshes from red cups onto the floor as excited clubbers laugh and stumble, ready to make bad choices and think about it in the morning.

“Seriously, Liam, you’re acting like such a stiff you’re actually going to blow our cover.” Theo is going on. “You want to tell Scott that we couldn’t find the werewolves in here because you couldn’t look like you fit in? Come on…let’s move away from the bar.”

That does shake him out of his stupor, slightly.

He’d been so nervous, scanning the crowd for any signs of her, that he’d practically forgotten why they were here to begin with.

“Yeah,” he says, obstinately even as he follows Theo into the sea of sweaty bodies. “God forbid I get in the way of you sucking up to Scott some more…”

It’d really been getting quite obnoxious. Theo was practically a different person whenever Scott was in the room. His investment in the success of their missions always tied directly tied to how visible any of his actions would be to Scott.

Theo either couldn’t hear him over the loud base or is pretending that he can’t hear him.

That’s when he sees her.

Her nails are painted gleaming silver, her hands curled around the bicep of a tall college jock with overstyled hair.

Liam’s stomach turns.

No one told him he was tall. God, why did he have to be tall?

His eyes narrow in on the guys fingers, that are gripping the curve of his ex’s ass so firmly Liam sees red.

The music takes a violent turn, Liam’s blood turns to fire in his veins.

Without thinking, he lunges towards them.

He doesn’t get more than one step forward, before he’s yanked violently back.

“The hell?” he snarls in Theo’s face. “Get your hands off me!”

“What and let you make a complete ass of yourself in front of your ex and completely blow our cover in this shitty town?” Theo’s grip on his bicep tightens and Liam can feel the prick of his claws. “No way.”

Liam snaps his arm roughly out of Theo’s grip.

“I’m stronger than you.” he growls, his eyes flashing. “Try to overpower me like that again and you’re going to regret it.”

“Put those eyes away - I’m trying to help you, jackass.” Theo retorts. “Now do you want to make Hayden remember all the things about you she probably isn’t missing? Or do you want to make her sorry you broke up?”

“I-wait, what?” Liam blinks. “How are you going to do that?”

“Follow my lead.” Theo says, taking Liam’s wrists with a smirk and pulling him till their right in Hayden’s view - but not obviously in front of her.

“Don’t look at her.” Theo says, keeping his voice low so that no one around them can hear. “Dance with me.”

“Are you serious?” Liam asks, disbelievingly.

“Do you want to make her jealous or not?”

“I-” Liam stutters. “I’m not good at lying…”

Theo rolls his eyes so hard he looks like he’s in physical pain. He takes Liam’s hands and puts them on his hips, then places his own on Liam’s shoulders.

“Then just shut up and let me do it for you.”

At that moment the lights dropout. For a millisecond they’re smothered in complete darkness. The base of the music drops even louder, dim red lights come on up above them, followed by a staggering blaring strobe.

Theo began to move smoothly in time with the music, the contours of his deceivingly graceful body flashing in and out of visibility in the flashing light. He pulled Liam into step with him, and soon they were both moving in the same rhythm.

A moment later he hears her gasp.

Theo tugs Liam around so his back is to Hayden, moving in closer.

“Eyes on me, Little Wolf.”

“Don’t call me that.” Liam growled, digging his nails into Theo’s hips. “You aren’t even that much taller than me…”

“Not everything is about height.”

Liam dug his nails deeper and pulled Theo closer to him to hide his furious expression from Hayden.

“I bet I’ve got you beat in other areas too.” Liam quips.

He can feel Hayden’s eyes on him now, staring in disbelief. Even through the heavy scents of sweat and grime on the dancing bodies around them he can smell her growing horror and jealousy.

It feels more good than he wants to admit.

“Oh do you?” Theo leans his face in so their foreheads are practically touching, his eyebrows arced sexily.

Wait what? No. Not sexy. What was he just thinking? Annoying. The arc of Theo’s eyebrows are annoying.

Dancing with Theo is getting easier and easier. There’s something dizzying about the flash of the lights, and something entrancing about the small beads of sweat that are starting to line Theo’s neck.

Liam finds himself staring at the shape of Theo’s collar bone protruding from the tight dark knit muscle shirt that clung to his torso.

As if on cue, Theo moved in closer.

#theo raeken #liam dunbar #thiam

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aharris00britney · 7 years

Photo

ASKS 06

Ummmm stuff I’ve ignored and let build up ;-; MM hairlines, a pic of me, default replacement hairs, donation stuff, using my hair conversion meshes, a male hair wip, recolor requests, and other stuff UwU

Anonymous said: face reveal?

lmao this is from October but I never take pics of myself besides snapchat so UwU

@wildfire607 said: I love your content for the game! I have my notifications on for you. Much love from Texas. ♥️

omggg thank you!!!! literally I don’t feel like people would have notifications on for me ;n; again, thank you so much <3

@standardheld said: Hey there! I know you don’t take requests so take it as an idea. Maybe you’ll like it. Otherwise, please don’t feel forced to do anything! So here’s the idea: I haven’t fount an adult’s version of you YeoJin hairs with big pigtails. Remember Cassandra Goth from The Sims 2? It think it would look beautiful and I know you’ve got the necessary talent. If you like the idea, please let me know :)

Hello!!! Lmao I am kinda swamped rn to start ‘new’ things BUTBUTBUT I don’t mind if somebody uses my conversion meshes like YeoJin Hair since all it is is a conversion. So if u wanna do it or wanna ask some other people, feel free!! <3

@pxelsquid said: The WIP hair in your play list post is so beautiful! I can’t wait for it!

Thanks! Planning to get it out in the next week or so

Anonymous said: What do you use donations for?

(answer in bold) lmao I actually don’t get many, at least not enough for them to go towards anything. But I do get a few dollars every couple of months (and that still makes me super happy to see ty to anyone who has donated ever UwU) lmao so I don’t really know what the donations go towards though I guess packs?? which rn I prob wouldn’t buy a pack w/donation money bc irl stufffff but I would think donations on a sims account should go to more sims stuff if you don’t need to money for personal life situations :)

Anonymous said: Hello! Would you ever consider some of your hairs for male sims?

You should be able to disable to masculine filter and see them?? If not go in S4S and edit the tags to let it be seen

Anonymous said: about your last hair: NOPE.

all night all night all niiiiiiiight ✨

Anonymous said: I’m so happy you made the Jennie Hair without headband! I really like it so far. Good job!

Yay!! I’m glad you like it. Thank you so much <3

Anonymous said: When will you be releasing the braids on your post /post/168877609911/ ?

Yeah!! They’ve been done a while, hopefully they should get posted soon. Here is a link if u want early accessssssssssssss UwU

Anonymous said: why did u and yoshi break up?

Richard ( @cas-fulleditmode ) shares the same fetish as me (M*** P**f) lmao im kiddingggggg UwU me and @ayoshi are married in Korea still

Anonymous said: BOOOOOI! HAVE YOU HEARD “BLACK DRESS” BY CLC? IT. IS. LIT

i dont think u get…. my k-pop obsession ;-; lmao I literally keep up with like every girl group and watch the album teasers/everything UwU I still prefer Where Are You? to Black Dress though.

Anonymous said: Are you friends with grimcookies?

to an extend I think so, yes. We have only messaged a few times in the past week or so bc of memessssss

Anonymous said: Can you please post some eyes or tell me where I can download cc eyes? I hate the eyelashes that sims has.

My resource page has the eyes I use and the no EA eyelashes mod link :)

@saurussims said: Pass the happy! 💛 When you get this, reply with 5 things that make you happy and send this to the last 10 people in your notifications!

My birthday is this month so I’m happy about that lmao

Loona

my pug UwU

my friendssss

getting new clothing

Anonymous said: aghhhh your sim style is so nice! Have a nice day!

Thank you so much!!

Anonymous said: Hello! ^_^ I just dropped by to tell you how much I appreciate your hard work in making hairs. I don’t know how much time it takes you to make such wonderful creations, but they definitely made my sims better-looking for your CCs are amazing and they are of matching lengths and styles that really made planning my sims’ hairstyles easier <3 Sorry I’m too broke to donate, and all I can do is THANK YOU :( But please know that you deserve all the praises you get. More power to you and your blog! <3

omggg this is so sweet ;-; thank you!!! I really really really appreciate stuff like this. <3

Anonymous said: Would you consider making more hairs (preferably a long, casual style and maybe a ponytail?) with the Candie/Maja bangs? They’re soooo cute!

I have made another hair with those bangs. Hopefully it gets posted soon :)

Anonymous said: Can you please make the laundry day hairstyles base game compatible?

I actually didn’t buy laundry stuff lmao college/senior payments are taking all my money rn so I prob won’t get any packs anytime soon :P

Anonymous said: all i want in life is curly maxis match boy hairs ahhh :((((((((

aweeee I am really bad at male hairs or I would try :( this is a male hair I did the other day and it is super super basic but like I’m surprised it wasn’t super fucked up ;-;

@jacazul said: ✨💛 This is the Amazing Person Award! Once you are given this award you are supposed to paste it in the ask of eight different people, who, in your opinion, deserve it. If you break the chain nothing will happen, but it is sweet to know someone thinks you’re amazing inside and out 💛✨ <3333

Thank you!!! <3

Anonymous said: how do you get all your sims to look so cute??? every time i think i’ve made a super cute sim i see one of your sims on my dash and i’m like WHOA NEVERMIND THEN. seriously tho what are your secrets

ummmm I use all my sims and then just do ‘make twin/sibling’ and then I get a clone to mold like clay wedgfhv

Anonymous said: which recolor palettes do you recommend for hairs? I like the EA colors but I would like to try some others.. especially after seeing the hair color you put on your sim with the jennie hair in your latest post

Obvi I like the anathema palette bc I put my hairs in that, but the saccharine (?) is really really good and there are tons of hairs in that. and the WMS palette is so so so good there are just too many swatches for me to do that palette tbh

Anonymous said: Are you going to make more hairs that are ombre accessory compatible?

Maybe! I am not sure tbh, it depends on the mesh I use and abunch of other factors :)

Anonymous said: Question, I love your Jisoo hair, it’s well done, but the ombre part, what’s the file name and how do you download it? I’m a noob when it comes to this. Sorry to bother you.

file name -> JisooHairOmbreNaturals[AH00B].package

just put it in your mods folder like you would normal CC. It is in accessories :)

Anonymous said: I’m legit falling in love with you and all these cc’s ❤❤❤

<3333 Thanksssssss UwU

Anonymous said: not to rush you but are any male sims coming out soon :0

My male sim has been in my drafts with all the CC links and everything the past MONTH but I haven’t had the motivation to export his download file omggg. He is on my gallery @ spotharris if u really really want him right now

@bob10112006

said:

I love you and thank you for your cc and can you make not so berry cc?thanks!

People have made recolors of my cc in not so berry colors :) check my sideblog @aharris00britneyrecolors

Anonymous said: Hi! Are you planning to make the Go Won hairs into a bob? the same hair and all but shorter. I just think it will look really nice as a bob.

Maybe?? no plans as of right now though

Anonymous said: please upload your red-ish haired sim! :) x

Already did, check my sim download page

Anonymous said: damn, those new hair really sucks. sorry… but. yeah.

well maybe if you stanned LOONA then you would like them UwU

Anonymous said: I checked out your sim page, they’re so gorgeous! I remember at some point last year you mentioned maybe sharing Briella after you stopped using her, and I haven’t seen her in a while in your posts. Have you considered sharing her or is she just officially retired? She was a very cute sim and is iconic!

Briella wasn’t actually my sim! Her original download post is here

@ayoshi said: Are you gonna tell your followers why you didn’t give me a valentine gift or…???

Me and @cas-fulleditmode were too busy to take a stop in korea sorry UwU

Anonymous said: heey :) could you maybe put the hairlines your were talking about in the latest post for download? i use hairlines myself and i really like your hairs in tge palette you are using and i can’t find any hairlines in it soo? could you do that? :)

the hairlines I made are actually in the saccharine palette bc so many clayified hairs come in that palette lmao. They are kinda messy rn but if I eve use them on a sim download ill link them there :)

Anonymous said: Could you please recolour some of wild-pixel’s hairs in the palette?

Anonymous said: can we give you recolor requests?

Idk if I will do recolors that often but when I do I kinda just do what hairs I find myself using at that time :P

Anonymous said: Will u ever upload girl from “tell me why, why i’m so lonely” post?? Please consider it, she is soooo cute 😍😍😍

I didnt save her :(

@investedwheat40 said: Would you ever consider uploading your joy hair as a default replacement for that one hair Zoe Patel wears?

Prob not since it uses different textures/shadows and stuff, it would be the same size and stuff as the normal Joy hair

Anonymous said: Is there any way to download you models? Because I live how they looks and really want to use them.

I got this before I made my sim download page, but lmao here is a link to my sim download page :P

#asks

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alexiablackbriar13 · 7 years

Text

Birds of a Feather [teaser]

As many of my followers may know, I have been working on a little something new recently (not that I’m neglecting any of my WIP fics, which there are many of).

When I approached @thatmasquedgirl with this idea, for a oneshot set in one of her Arrow AU ‘verses, the Flying High ‘Verse (which incidentally was inspired by one of my own ‘verses, weird how things come around), I was so excited I could barely form words. Wonderful wifey as she is, she allowed me to go ahead with writing this and I’m so grateful to her, as she has supported me the entire way throughout, acting as a cheerleader and a beta. There were some hiccups along the way, including me freaking out over how the fic I planned to be 5k words ended up being way over 20k, but things smoothed out, and the road to the finish line is clear.

The fic is semi-completed, but with Masque’s permission, I’m posting a teaser now so that people know that there’s a good reason why DNTMBTM and puppy!fic updates have been sporadic (and late) of date.

In case any of you need a reminder: Here is Crash Landing, which this fic is set a few weeks/months after.

“Reckless. Irresponsible. Impulsive. Ignorant, mindless -”

“Are you done?”

Felicity turns and shoots Oliver a scornful look due to his exasperated tone, pausing in her pacing across the Foundry. She warned him that this would happen. It’s barely a month after she found him injured, bleeding and flightless and Oliver has healed, but not completely. He still finds it difficult to fly and move around too quickly. So, when he insisted on heading out into the city that night to perform Hood duties, Felicity told him it was too soon. And it had been. Oliver arrived back, ashy grey feathers ruffled and wings bristling, with blood dripping from a bullet wound in his side. A brush, he calls it. The bullet has clipped him, but it hasn’t hit any major blood vessels. He persists in informing Diggle and Felicity that he’s fine, but the IT girl can tell he isn’t.

Concern marrs her brow as she slowly moves back towards the winged vigilante, observing him quietly as Oliver is patched up by Diggle. He’s squirming in his seat, scowling as he’s fussed over. The massive wings are twitching behind his back, and Felicity sweeps her gaze over them, admiring for a brief moment how the white coverts at the top of the wings, near the wrists, darkens down into a grey gradient, before the tips are coloured a stark midnight black. The vigilante grumbling causes her to raise her eyes up to his face again, and she frowns.

Oliver looks tired. He’s been looking tired for days now, and she’s just been thinking it’s the fact that he’s back training again, preparing to get back onto the streets. But no, she can tell now that this is a deeper exhaustion, something that has been plaguing him for a while. She’s been watching him closely over the last few days, and it’s easy now to see that something is, in fact, wrong with Oliver. Maybe he’s ill. Maybe he’s just overworked. But whatever it is, she doesn’t like the way that it causes black bags under his eyes, his shoulders to slump and feathers to droop. It isn’t healthy, and just seeing it all presented in front of her now is causing a lump of anxiety to form in her throat, forcing her to swallow.

“I told you it was stupid,” she whispers, flicking her finger into his bare arm, and drawing back when he gives a slight flinch, throwing her a wary glance.

Sighing, he fixes his intense blue gaze onto the floor, kicking his legs back and forth as he shifts uncomfortably on the gurney. “And I admit, you were right,” Oliver grumbles. His massive wings are still bristling slightly, white feathers gleaming, highlighted in the sharp light of a medical lamp. Diggle has to sidestep them to avoid getting hit by the occasional sporadic flap he gives. “But I don’t regret going out there. I took down three criminal one-percenters tonight that have been embezzling funds from charities supporting the Glades. It was worth it.” Softening his voice, he adds tenderly in that tone he reserves for her, and only her, “You understand that, don’t you?”

Okay, he has a point there. Oliver’s work truly is creating a positive change in Starling City, and Felicity has to give him his dues, because she knows that he is significantly altering thousands of people’s lives for the better. But she can’t help but worry about him. Before she can say anything else, however, Diggle steps around to the other side so he’s in front of the winged crusader, getting in between Oliver and Felicity so they have to break eye contact.

“It needs a few stitches,” Diggle says, somewhat apologetically. He reaches for the first aid kit and begins threading a needle with one hand like a professional, whilst his other keeps a piece of gauze firmly placed on the wound. Felicity flits forwards and taps his hand, giving him a small smile to say she can take over for him. She flushes as soon as she presses the bandage into Oliver’s side and the vigilante jumps, gaze flitting down to aim very ardent, cobalt eyes at her. “I can’t give you any local because of your metabolism, and the fact that your air sacs are still healing.”

“Do it without,” Oliver shrugs.

“Are you sure? This is going to hurt.”

“Do it without,” he repeats, and when a troubled expression crosses Felicity’s face, he leans in and murmurs softly, “Felicity, it’s fine. It’s just a few stitches.” Mirth sparkles in his eyes as he finishes teasingly, “You can hold my hand if you like.”

She rolls her eyes at him, but still allows a smile to quirk at her lips in amusement, reaching out to squeeze lightly on his shoulder before pulling away, letting Diggle tend to the wound. Oliver has opened up to her and Diggle in ways Felicity never thought he would over the last few weeks. Although Oliver still remains the gruff, suspicious, hesitant individual that had confronted her in that parking lot when he first crashed into her, Felicity can now see what an absolute wonder he is at heart.

He likes to touch affectionately, probably because he was severely touch starved in the past, but Felicity certainly isn’t complaining; thrill flashes through her whenever Oliver brushes his wings up against her side in a kind-hearted motion, or whenever he carefully settles his hands on her shoulders, rubbing his thumb gently into her neck to relieve the tension there. He still speaks harshly, sometimes turning cold and stony towards them if he is pushed too far, or doesn’t like what they are discussing, but Oliver’s true voice that he’s began using with both Felicity and Diggle is low and warm, like melted dark chocolate or a big cat’s rumbling purr. So when he teases her to hold his hand - she does. But not for too long, otherwise he’ll get uncomfortable, and Felicity respects his boundaries.

The blonde doesn’t notice that Diggle is stitching the wound and Oliver’s gritting his teeth with his eyes closed until a single, lithe, feathery finger inches around her open palm to curl around her hand. It makes her jump with a squeak, and then Felicity’s eyes flash down to look at what that finger is and it’s Oliver’s wing. There’s a tiny, white feathery thing wrapped around her fingers, and it’s Oliver’s wing holding her hand. She’s so astonished for a moment that she freezes, not moving, but before she can yank her hand back in shock, that feathered finger tightens and Oliver releases a deep pained sound.

He’s tensed, breathing heavily, and his left wing twitching anxiously. It’s his right wing that has extended out and wrapped around Felicity’s hand, and the realisation strikes her directly in the chest, making her exhale with a whoosh. Oliver is in pain, but he doesn’t know how to ask for comfort. He’s reaching out for her to soothe him instinctively.

Sweeping back towards him, Felicity keeps a firm hold of Oliver’s feathered finger whilst her free hand snakes over his shoulder to gently trace circles in the space between where the two wings are attached. At first, he straightens, snapping upright with a low gasp, and Felicity winces, afraid that he’s going to pull away - but then Oliver’s eyes flutter shut and he relaxes, leaning into her touch. Diggle’s just finishing up the stitches, watching them both with such an impassive expression that Felicity knows that he definitely has an opinion on this, and it makes her blush, biting her lip as she decides to instead fixate her gaze on that feathered finger hooked around her hand.

“It’s an alula.”

She glances up, taking in Oliver’s scrunched up face and closed eyes. How he knows what she’s going to ask before she even opens her mouth to speak still amazes her. “An alula?” she repeats, twisting her hand within the ‘alula’s grip so she can gently run her fingers down the light grey, white-ish feathers there. “What is it? Like a wing finger?”

“Exactly,” Oliver nods, managing a tight smile. “A wing thumb, actually. All birds have them. One on each wing. Our wings are essentially feathered arms, you know.”

The talking seems to be distracting him from the pain, so Felicity quickly draws him into conversation, saying disbelievingly, “I can’t believe that I never knew that birds have thumbs.”

“You wouldn’t know if you’ve never looked. I flare them out when I fly, they help coordinate with my tertials so I can steer properly without a tail. Birds can’t usually use their alulas to hold onto things, but - well...” A somewhat smug look passes over him, and he preens, left wing half flaring and very nearly smacking an annoyed Dig in the face. “I’m not a bird.”

“That’s genius.” She rubs the pad of her finger down the thick white feathers that line the finger, but goes completely still, breath catching in her throat, when one of the feathers comes loose and falls into her palm. Oh god. Is this meant to happen? Has she just accidentally pulled one of Oliver’s feathers out without even realising it? He just said he needs them for steering - has she just crippled him?! “Uh… Oliver?”

“Hmm?” He raises his head to survey her, and then when he sees the feather in her palm, he goes rigid. He stares down at the feather, a whole mixture of emotions flickering over his face. The fact that he goes motionless must startle Diggle as well, because his partner pauses in his wiping the wound with antiseptic, blinking. Felicity peers back at Oliver with wide eyes as he struggles to find words.

“Your feather fell out,” Felicity says, although she internally berates herself because yes, that is rather obvious. She’s holding the feather in her hand, it’s very obviously not attached to his wing.

Oliver stares at it for a moment, and then he moves so quickly that Felicity has to blink several times, and Diggle has to draw back to avoid accidentally stabbing him with the needle. Felicity’s heart aches and her legs feel numb as she watches Oliver desperately rake his hand through the feathers on his right wing. His blank expression as several of his peppered grey primary coverts fall out chills her to the bone, but nothing is more alarming than the tiny, frightened, “Oh,” he emits, swallowing.

“Oliver?” Diggle asks, taking a cautious step backwards just in case the winged vigilante reacts violently, because he looks shaken to the core.

“They’re - they’re falling out?” Oliver finally questions, his voice strained.

Oh god, this is bad. His reaction is bad. She HAS just crippled him. Trembling, Felicity whispers, “Oliver, I - I am SO sorry, I didn’t -”

“Hey, Felicity, no, this -” His hand darts out to grasp her wrist, and his tone’s steady as he shakes his head, firmly reassuring her, “This wasn’t you. You didn’t do this. It’s alright. Feathers - feathers fall out sometimes.”

“So it’s - it’s alright?”

“Yes, it’s fine.” Seeing the way that his left wing shakes, Felicity swallows. It isn’t fine.

“It’s not a big deal if feathers fall out?” Diggle questions hesitantly.

“No, it’s - not a big deal. It’s no deal. It’s fine.” Except the dread in his expression as Oliver plucks the alula feather from Felicity’s hand tells her that this is a very, very big deal. The several primary covert feathers that came loose with his fingers have drifted down, and remain scattered, like tiny pieces of ashy down littering the ground. Oliver refuses to meet their worried gazes as he stands on wobbly legs, wings flaring and tucking to steady him, hand tightly clenched around the alula feather. “Thank you both for your help tonight, but really, I’m okay. You can both go home.”

Felicity crosses her arms over her chest, hand flicking up briefly to straighten her glasses on her nose as she observes the winged vigilante calculatingly. Her heart is doing a merry jig due to her anxiety about Oliver’s reaction. He’s not acting as if he’s okay; he’s reacting as if this fallen feather is leading to the whole wing falling off. He’s shivering like a leaf, obviously shaken, but she isn’t going to press him, not when he’s in such a vulnerable and emotional state. Instead, she gently reaches out to caress the top of his wing wrist for a second, smiling sadly when he stiffens at her touch, before motioning to Diggle that they should leave. Diggle raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t question her, offering Oliver a gruff farewell before grabbing his coat and clunking up the stairs out of sight.

“Change your bandages in four hours,” Felicity reminds him softly, withdrawing and picking up her coat and bag. Oliver nods, eyes lowered as he shuffles awkwardly, wings spreading to half span in such a way that she can tell that he’s feeling guilty at kicking them out. “Please try and sleep tonight, Oliver.”

“I will,” he answers.

She smiles again, and then heads for the stairs. Before she can reach the security door, however, Oliver calls her name quietly, causing her to whip around with a hopeful expression. It’s ridiculous, but she’s silently hoping that he’s going to ask her to stay. His wings are ruffled and a mess, and although he has only let her touch his wings once or twice, she will help him groom them if he asks.

“You don’t need to worry,” Oliver says quietly. “I promise you, I’m fine.”

“Goodnight, Oliver,” she responds.

Tags: @geniewithwifi @writewithurheart @bushlaboo @muslimsmoak @melsanfo @imusuallyobsessed @latinasmoak @nodecaff4me @myhauntedblacksoul @almondblossomme @callistawolf @thatmasquedgirl @queensoverwatch @pleasantfanandstudent @valin-dana @fallingmeleth @skcolicity @lunarsilverwolfstar @tdgal1 @olicityandsteroline @michealajulius @cris101071 @ohmyemilybett @blushorchid @selena-diaries @acheaptrickandacheesyoneline @the-silverforked-sky @jaspertown @n4r4nch4 @nvwhovian @miriam1779 @sunshine0977

#arrow #arrow fic #olicity #olicity fic #arrow au #olicity au #thatmasquedgirl #flying high 'verse #inspired by flying high 'verse #alexiablackbriar13 #fic teaser

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ladyofmind · 6 years

Text

May Month’s End

Wow, this month went by so fast! In the end, I only really stuck to 2 hashtag games.

First up I LOVED playing WIPWordSearch. Little snippets from all that I have written in the Red Letters Series, called my Red Letter Teasers...

1- "You know just how much I like animals, may want to stick around all day if you can, who knows what I might do before the day's done."

2- "I'll show ye music." Setting his mug aside, Frost got up, rooting around until he found the extra speakers from under the bar, and plugged his player in.

3- The waves melted into the sky, the darkness washing onto the lightness in the sand, meeting it in white curling foamy waves.

4- As Remmy started to move, he gestured for Nira. "Thank you for your time Gus, Nira here should have the answers you want on the business end."

5- "Mom and I used to go once a week and the waitress got to the point that she almost didn’t ask anymore."

6- Tweet mentally stretched her muscles, trying to discreetly work out the dull aches in her body, while jumping back into the sea of conversations as if she hadn't stopped at all.

7- The sound of the air rushing from his lungs, on a cuss cut short, was covered by the nearly shrill squeals of Bebe. #amediting #alliterationhabit

8- Troublemaking women with weapons; and a sweetly adorable, yet commanding, woman controlling things, reminding him of home.

9- The salty sea air started to reach her nose, and she squeezed his hand. "We're getting close!"

10- Tweety already dressed, and finishing notes she'd again fallen asleep on, when she heard it. That familiar scratching sound that announced she had company.

11- Ally and Mys came over, and ordered a set of drinks for all of them, a sheepish look on both faces. Tweety felt the wave of nervousness from them, and strived to ease it, thinking it was related to their relationship.

12- Arrogance, since no Arrogant. Woods wasn’t a hardcore musician in that way of life; he didn’t sleep around every night, nor did he have an inflated ego or sense of arrogance.

13- That was a risk he took now, but that rewarding kiss made it worthwhile. Woods would be more than willing to kiss the steam out of her ears, and more if needed, being such a magnanimous gentleman.

14- Another done up lady settled on the stools, and Tweet went through the standard welcome and order spiel. "I'll have something… sweet but sour too."

15- Tweety hesitated, but Roger nudged the door wider and strolled inside. Of course it was Deej's room, and she winced when she saw the shadowy flight of a rather large mass jump for about where the beds were in each room.

16- High fives and cheers shared until Martin reminded them that the band had a short time and spring would be here in an instant.

17- About to launch into another speech, Woods wanted to fill the silence and babble on if need be, his mouth opened to do just that when Tweet stood and tossed the cat ears and tail near her bag.

18- It could very well have been the ghost in her, playing just the right notes to haunt her memories. Yet, they still had this open wound, his distrust of her had turned a pet name and sign of his admiration into a piercing pain in her chest.

19- He hadn't expected that when he came to check out what the buzz was here. More often than not, as he wandered the towns at night, they were weary places full of silence and darkness.

20- Tweety woke with a cold start, living the nightmare she dreamt. Except in her dream she managed to scream, not in reality.

21- Tweet's hushed hiss gave Roger pause, a look passing between them, almost a stand off to test limits. Roger stopped wiggling, and looked to Tweet, pawing the air behind Deej.

22- She was still breathing, shallowly, with a pulse that he took to be returning from the weaker state, established on first examination.

23- The least he could do was return the favor by making her a quivering puddle of a person. He didn't stop until she looked much more alive, and likely to melt and drip right out of the car.

24- She didn't want to start by admitting to be one of those girls that didn't know which hand a regular ring went on, and which was for engagements only. She wouldn’t get the chance to speak, at least not in the store

25- That= 520 times in a 55K+ #WIP

Freddy started laughing at the upset Vinny, who repeated that he wanted Queen, not Bob Seeger.

26- Just= 175 times in a 55K+ #WIP

"Just you Frost, just you." Laughing, Woods patted Frost on the back.

27- So= 278 times in a 55K+ #WIP

He was so much taller, even in her boots she wasn’t close enough.

28- About= 169 times in a 55K+ #WIP

They didn’t get much time to talk about this friend, because Tweet heard her name in the microphone.

29- Very= 32 times in a 55K+ #WIP

Tweet started to thump on his back in earnest, getting very dizzy.

30- Really= 31 times in a 55K+ #WIP

"If you really must know that secret that isn't a total secret, it was your arse."

31- As= 409 times in a 55K+ #WIP

A particularly excellent beat had her shimmying her hips as she cleared the floor, which she turned into more of a sway again as she neared Martin's expanded table.

As always, I love playing CharactersTell! Not only do I have a surprise coming, but this was my first interview too!

1/5- "Happy Worker's Day! First round on me, since it is my lovely nightclub. Just ask for Tweety! From future Red Letters fame, of course, that journey starts today, with an awesome interview on the #GCnetwork as the MC featured this week! Thank you so much."

2/5- "When I started out, I was just a waitress. Now I work 24/7 in Soulful, usually the hostess with the most-est. It's not for the money any longer, this place is more than a home for me, it's my life I choose to live."

3/5- "Love this job, so much fun! I didn't exactly have a dream job growing up, but this is darn close to one. Maybe I wish I could find a little time to read books and take up better hobbies, like the writing one Sly suggests."

4/5- "Occupational hazards have names here. Collar's man thong, and Bebe come to mind. Poor # 14 is still recovering from being a giant red duck shaped pool float for a night. No one but Bebe knew there was a person inside and played a bit rough with the evil duck"

5/5- "We get along well here, occasionally I might participate in the shenanigans, if they aren't that harmful. I mean what's a party without shots? Just not body shots off me. I leave that to Bebe. After all, the bouncers have to have fun too."

6/5- "I don't get many free days, and there were plenty of times I wasn't allowed out of the bar anyway. But now? I like to catch up on my rest, do some shopping, love being fashionable."

7/5- "Same way I greet every day. The big ol' kitty scratches my door to pieces, until I get up and give him the coffee flavored milk Deej thought to send me round his neck. Too bad its not really coffee and Roger drinks it all anyway."

8/5- "Hi, I'm Greg, and I'm not sure I'm in the right place. I don't think I'm all that bad and Grandpa Gus loved me enough to leave me a third of his business. At best it's all just miscommunication…" Always are until feelings come into play, aren't they?

9/5- "I've practically finished my business degree, because I've known about my inheritance since high school. So, I don't. Not yet… Dad paid for everything, and there is an account in my name from my future share of the club. Not sure how much is there…"

10/5- "Dad doesn't like me working, as he wasted a life doing that and made more than enough money to last us. Grandpa Gus thought I had a good head on my shoulders and encouraged me to work, and I've managed a few places before. Nothing solid or permanent tho."

11/5- "I've sneaked a peek at Soulful's books. It's not a bakery business, but there are these cake supplies… Enough to make an 8 tier wedding cake a week, on top of what they make/sell, or at least that's what I've been advised it's for, based on the quantities."

12/5- "I never did, until I went to college. Now I do, and I am not great at it, but I can shop and feed myself something a step up from college diets."

13/5- "In other jobs, I am a workaholic. But in my new role? I'm slacking off terribly, partly because I do not see a role here for me, and because, of course, there's a woman involved. Might be easier to just sell it to this guy that found me first…"

14/5- "Worst part about my job? Hearing an important woman complain about this absentee owner while needing comfort. If I comfort her, I can see something happening there; but I think she'll be ticked off to find out who I really am, and what I might decide to do…"

15/5- "Hello, I'm Woods' sister. I have a few name options, but my author will decide when I'm written about in book 3? Or is it 4 now? What's in a name anyway, when you know who you are? You all love Woods aka big bro Woodson and don't care what you call him."

16/5- "My parents and I get along fine. Mr. Rockstar still thinks I'm too young, even though we're only like 5 years apart. He's been too busy to know the adult me, but we're still family, still friendly."

17/5- "I was shy, and they worried more about Woods and his aimlessness. Then when he became famous and in the tabloids, well, they didn't notice as much if I was troublesome or not…"

18/5- "Oh, sometimes I was too blunt. Or used words I read in books. Really young me didn't understand why people felt the way they did about certain words or the concept of walking on eggshells."

19/5- "I'm not even 25! And I'm not seeing anyone. As is, I'm trying to help my idiot brother find someone, while dealing with Remmy, his bodyguard friend. If I can watch them, I think I can survive being a mom, someday when I'm older and more settled."

20/5- "Of course! There was a group of us that were really into Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys mysteries. Group grew and changed from there. Who knew being mysterious could get you so much attention?"

21/5- "I loved English, History classes had fascinating facts. After all, history does repeat itself if you learn nothing, and reading makes you smarter than someone who learned nothing. yes, I *may* be referring to my genius brother and his annoying friend again."

22/5-A Lynx cat, frosting on his fur crosses the stage, licking himself.

A man in cat ears follows, "Roger, tell me you didn't raid the cupcakes without me? You know what happens when you make a mess I don't know…"

"Deej!! My kitchen!"

Roger smirks, licking more.

23/5- As a chef comes to yell at Deej, Roger shakes all his fur and heads off for a couch, hoping up on it and nudging his cub with his nose. The cub cutely reaches out a paw and stretches it's sleepy form.

24/5- "Aww aren't yew bloke's cute." Malta passed by, stopping to pet both lynx cats. "Are yew hungry? I'll ge' yew some meat."

25/5- The cats ate, while people talk. They were rare wild cards, & handfuls when in trouble. Yet Deej raised them well, these lynx were domesticated, like overgrown cats, who sometimes act like dogs, but always have attitude & a way of finding suckers to purr at.

26/5- Roger nudged the cub, and they jumped off the couch. The cub moves to the bar's end, while Roger stretched on a stool to see over the bartop. Tweety noticed him as she moved "Hey Roger, are you boys looking for a big dish of milk? Coming right up!"

27/5- Roger backed off the stool and stepped to the side, waiting near the cub, as Tweety set down a bowl of milk. "How about a snack for my favorite furry friends?" Cupcakes were set in front of the pair, causing Roger to purr and lick Tweet's leg in thanks.

28/5- Deej huffed, hopping on a stool "Tweets don't support them! The big lug alrea… aahh!"

Deej landed on his back, Roger shaking his paw.

"Roger, haven't we talked about you knocking Deej over?" Tweet tried not to laugh, or else it would encourage Roger further.

29/5- Tweet bent down to pet Roger, who returned the attention by trying to knock her over and cover her in his furry scent. "Our paths cross all the time, at least once a day when this lug brings me coffee and guards my door."

30/5- Side sis- "First off we don't know each other, but no one yet knows what I do with my smarts. Are you looking at a pool shark?" 😇

Antag Greg- "Confession, I don't play pool. But I have made out on a pool table before…"

31/5- Woods' sister- "I think so, I have read the book on Tweet's bar life, and I see so many similarities. I'm annoyed that my brother didn't introduce us sooner. I would have skipped a little high school to meet this woman before now."

#writer #WIP #wip word search #characters tell #twitter games #games #author #may 2018 #Red Letters #teasers #Red Letters teasers

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