#the truth is actually that i think i might be posting some wip bits under the same worldview

[slowips]

fire, shadows, ice, psionics 👀👀

thanks so much for this ask! -> elemental writer ask

Fire: What’s a scene that you are dying to write?

i made a wip post for this, haha. if you don't mind, i would love to talk (vaguely) about each scene for each wip i plan to write this year.

you've changed (cyno / reader longfic) — the secrets behind the disappearance of your father is revealed. a choice has to be made: admit the truth or destroy the evidence that you and cyno worked so hard to attain?

dog ears (gorou x reader oneshot) — it's not normal to ask a person you just met if they believe you're going to die. you do so anyway. gorou looks cute as he panics, visibly flustered, but it's his answer that solidifies your desire to see him again.

your ghost in the closet (kazuha / reader oneshot) — a series of incidents piques kazuha's curiosity regarding your choice of lifestyle. he confronts you about what he's seen, and in haste, you confess the feelings you've locked behind the closet.

not freaking out (cyno / reader for this series) — when your boyfriend doesn't appear when you end work, you use the opportunity to visit cyno after nilou shared concerns regarding his absence. the walk home allows you to talk with him about things swept under the carpet.

there's actually more stories for the series, but i don't have all of them planned, and this post is getting longer than it needs to be, haha.

⠀

Shadows: What’s the darkest theme you’ve ever written about?

i've not written works with darker themes and i don't know how to rank them, so i'll just list some dark(er) themes i hope to write and explain what i'd like to explore for each. all themes do not have a fic idea, so it's possible i may never write about them. it is also possible i will not write genshin fanfiction for them, but who knows! not me!

cheating / i see a lot of people not liking cheating fics, and that's understandable because i do not condone cheating too. however, the fact still remains that it is happening in the world, and i'm interested in exploring the reasons why people cheat as well as the aftermath from perspectives of all parties.

possessive behaviour / this is not related to yandere although it does overlap, so some might consider it dark? i think it's interesting because people like reading jealous headcanons. that includes a bit of possessiveness so what's the line between possessiveness that's cute and possessiveness that's dangerous?

human experimentation / simplified, human experimentation is unethical if done (1) deceptively (2) and without consent. but what if it was done with consent without deception? what if the subject was brainwashed to think that entering the experiment despite the dangers is the correct thing to do?

abduction / watched a video (22 mins) and agreed such circumstances would be a damn good psychological horror story. what if the captor gained feelings for the hostage but it is not reciprocated? many thoughts.

⠀

Ice: What do you always get stuck on when writing?

i like to write my stories chronologically, aka in the order scenes are supposed to be read. if i can't write a scene, it bottlenecks really easily and i just... end up not writing at all. i'm trying to work on that, hahaha. i think another thing that gets me stuck is dialogue and description. it doesn't come as easily compared to exposition.

⠀

Psionics: How do you get into the heads of your characters?

since fanfiction is transformative work, characters just need to feel familiar, so i try to immerse myself into the source material. that means reading their character stories and listening to their voice lines. if i want to put more effort, i will make a document and briefly jot down patterns of speech and core beliefs. i've seen this method float around fandom space when other writers get asked how they write in-character. i hope it is working, lol.

i'm trying to adopt this guy's perspective on characters (13m). i like his take that characters are not people: they are drivers of a story you're trying to tell. if the plot revolves tightly around my understanding of a character, i feel that's half the battle won.

[snuggles-and-struggles]

"Index" of my spicyhoney ideas and AUs, in no particular order

16-20/???

✮ Band

The first chapter has been sitting in my wip folder for years lmao. Basically, after surfacing, Edge unexpectedly winds up the singer/rhythm guitarist for an underground (lol) rock band. No one knows and he tries to keep it that way, until one of his friend group unknowingly gets recommended to see a show and invites a bunch of their mutual friends. Edge is also invited of course and is mortified, but ultimately decides to go on anyway.

Stretch in particular is stunned, even though they'd never really gotten along he is very much attracted to Edge and seeing that show certainly didn't help.

Probably the biggest reason I never finished it is because I couldn't ever really think of much of a cohesive story beyond Stretch and Edge bonding over music and falling for each other. Which is like. Fine but also kind of boring lol

-

✮ Code Blue

Another very old one that I think I've already posted a more full summary of here elsewhere. So I'll keep it brief. Edge was a lab experiment found in the secret labs of his underground after all the various undergrounds surface. He has a "vampire mutation" on top of just not really knowing how to be a monster since he grew up entirely isolated in an abandoned cage basically.

Blue is a nurse with a rehabilitation hospital that US Toriel runs, and asks specifically for his help rehabilitating Edge before he’s declared too dangerous and put down like an animal.

Of course it works and has a happy ending where Stretch helps him acclimate once he’s made enough progress to be released under Blue's supervision. Of course they fall in love, and it's complicated at times, but sooo worth it.

-

✮ Vesselfell

Again, another older one. Shortly after its conception, I of course thought up a spicyhoney variant.

At a point earlier in VF's timeline, before the others know the truth, an unexpected "glitch" throws the UT and US brothers in VF. Stretch and Edge get along horribly at first, yet that doesn't stop Stretch from jumping headfirst into one of Edge's "episodes" to try and help him.

Aside from Flowey, Stretch becomes the first person to know the truth about Edge and resolves to help him gain some measure of control.

Takes place in a Variable Ending setting where eventually US, UT, and VF wind up sharing a surface and Edge and Stretch get married and Stretch works from home while Edge goes of Voiding it up in the multiverse helping people, and it's mostly just domestic fluff aside from the occasional insane cryptid/body horror/existential drama bouts <3

-

✮ "Bad Brother" Swap

I might have the note for this one somewhere but now that the notes app search doesn't work it might take a while to find. But! Basically, US is a bad brother au.

UT, SF, and UF have already met, and manage to connect to a new universe. I don't actually remember how they get from point a to point b but they find out quickly about the way the Sans from US treats his brother. Shade, this specific UF Papyrus, is the one who actually retrieves the battered US Papyrus while some of the others go after the Sans in retaliation.

Afterwards, Shade basically decides this pathetic little thing is his and tries his best to help Honey, the US Papyrus, heal and recover.

Their characterizations differ a bit from my usual Edge and Stretch, hence the different nicknames. Shade is very...cold. He seems almost mechanical. Efficient and barely emotes, but he’s also very quiet and blunt generally. Aside from what he has to do as captain of the guard, he’s actually a deceitfully gentle giant (he’s also like a ft taller than Edge. Very Big).

Honey on the other hand is...quiet. Anxious and a bit skittish. More than anything his self image is what took a beating, feeling useless, worthless, and utterly incapable. He’s suspicious of Shade's motives initially, but too scared to really stop him. Luckily, it gets sorted out pretty soon in when he finally manages to ask and Shade bluntly tells him that he just sort of. Claimed him as his problem? He’s so pathetic and weak but he’s also kind and smells nice. So yeah. Also weirds him out seeing any version of himself so helpless so he wants to help him regain a stronger sense of self again.

Of course they fall in love super fast after that point, and eventually surface together and it's very nice and good 👍

-

✮ Reincarnation

This one is a looser sort of idea. It's one I've tossed around weakly a few times, rotated different scenarios, ones where Edge always remembers but Stretch doesn't, ones where that's vice versa, ones where they both know, ones where they used to be celestial gods who gave that up to be mortals who keep getting reincarnated and keep finding each other in ever life.

The most recent one was VF specifically, as Void's essentially immortal, so in that idea, Stretch keeps getting reincarnated across the MV and Void seeks him out every time he can. Sometimes Stretch remembers, other times he doesn't. And since he’s born into new AUs, it can vary like crazy what kind of world he’s in or even what kind of monster he is (though he’s always a Papyrus).

[aechteaseawb]

it's been a week. decided that maybe i'm ready to face my demons, so i took it out of anonymous. *shudders*

yes, i wrote this. no one is surprised.

[falsegoodnight]

a new header??? it matches better <3 these are the fics I read or reread and enjoyed this month! like last time, i’m separating it into different sections: main list, wips, and non-1d. rereads will be included in the main list and marked with a star (*). 

*note: this list encompasses the fics i’ve read from the 1st to the 28th only

—

main list ~

✰ Don’t Wait Up by reliablyimperfect | NR | 1k

Without Harry’s warmth next to him, he felt the chill of the air creep over his skin. He tugged the blanket down from where Harry kept one draped over the back of the couch for him, grateful. With the blanket, he instantly felt warmer, but it backfired when his eyes began to droop again. Trying to keep his eyes open was impossible, and he was consciously aware of how long his blinks were becoming. They stay closed longer and longer until, eventually, they didn’t open again.

so soft and sweet and lovely! made my heart feel so warm <3 will return to this for some quick comfort in the future!

✰ my ugly mouth kept running by @hadestyles | E | 4k

Sometimes second chances are more important than the first.

rori’s lush writing + abo + exes to lovers = absolute perfection. my fic cameo gives it a bonus too :’) definitely one of my rori favs 

✰ i’ve loved you three summers now honey, i want them all by @softloubabie | M | 4k

The restaurant was small and bright, soft colors filled the walls and tables and fairy lights hung from everywhere. From what Harry had read, the food wasn’t overly expensive but it was still comparable to what you would get at one of the more expensive places. If Harry could he would take Louis to the biggest most expensive and extravagant restaurants to do what he planned to tonight, but this would do.

After being led to their table Harry nervously tapped his jacket pocket, sighing in relief when he felt the small box still there. Tonight was the night. He couldn’t wait till it was time to surprise Louis with all the gifts he got for him. Then finally the big surprise.

so cute and sweet! their kids were so adorable and the proposal so lovely!! they love each other so much <3

✰ love me in between the future and the past by navigator & quitter | E | 11k

Harry's scared of history repeating itself.

this honestly hurt to read but in such a raw and emotional way?? was mad at harry and then sad for him :( this writer duo’s fics never fail to amaze me!

✰ sunshine on my mind by @raspberryoatss | E | 13k

Louis visits Harry in Portland

this was so sweet and lovely! the perfect addition to this wonderful universe! pip’s characterizations and fluff never fails to make my heart feel warm <3

✰ rapture in the dark by @stylinsonsupporter | T | 13k

Harry Styles is a breakout musician who has shed his boyband label in favor of embracing his inner brooding rockstar. His PR team think that his rebrand is the perfect time for Harry to come out of the closet and have devised the perfect plan for doing so. Enter Louis Tomlinson, up and coming (and very openly homosexual) model whose public image as America's Sweetheart is the perfect foil for Harry's new edge. From a PR standpoint, it's a dream come true - a power couple that can slowly coax the public into accepting Harry's altered image. The only problem? They hate each other.

always love a good fake dating au and this is no exception! and model louis >> really enjoyed this!

✰ Maybe, Baby* by thoughtsickles | M | 16k | mpreg

It all feels too easy, too good to be true. It all feels like a scene from Louis' daydreams, the kind of life he'd always imagined he'd have when he was younger and bored at his momma's work, sneaking around the hallways of the maternity ward until the nurses let him in to hold the babies. He'd felt so important being allowed to touch them. He'd told them stories of the lives they were going to have, houses with nice wallpaper that wasn't peeling, yards filled with sunshine and flowers and grass that never went yellow. A hammock to nap in, cuddled up with his husband.

You can't stay here, he tells himself, but Baby doesn't want to listen.

have reread this one quite a bit of times now and it still makes me so happy <3 this Louis and Harry deserve the world <333

✰ Let Me Inside by reliablyimperfect | E | 18k

Louis is Harry’s boss, but Harry is the boss of Louis. 

loved this one! really enjoyed the balance between h&l and how they maintained their dynamic in subtle ways outside of the bedroom while also keeping it separate. very much enjoyed the jealousy as well <3

✰ a scintilla of predilection by @dehydratedpoolfics | T | 20k

There, in the far back of the room, next to the only available seat left, is none other than Harry Styles. Harry, who grew up next door to him, who knew all his secrets as a child and played FIFA with him on Saturday mornings after he would spend the night Friday evenings every week, whose curly hair would tickle his nose as they held each other during bitter cold nights that made his room glow a haunting blue.

love ex-childhood friends with misunderstandings!! louis was so cute and i loved his poetry <3 harry too was so stupid but so smitten and lovely :’) really enjoyed this!

✰ Keeping The Flame Alive by @crazyupsetter​ | E | 20k

Recording with One Direction never felt like this. There’s a couple reasons for that, Harry thinks. One is that they did most of their recording on the road, rushed and in busses and hotel rooms, never in one place long enough to really get an argument going. The other, larger and more important one, is that back then he had the sweetest, meanest little omega around to distract him from all of that frustration.

The first time around, when he’d been recording his debut solo album, it hit him pretty hard. He likes to think he’s better adjusted to it now, but frustration is warring under his skin nonetheless. He doesn’t want to be told what to do most of the time, and he especially doesn’t want to be told what to do when it comes to his music.

What he does want right now is that sweet, mean little omega right in front of him with his mouth on Harry’s cock. Unfortunately, the best he’s got is his own hand and a shared toilet. So. That’s really not going to work.

✰ like it’s a game* by @soldouthaz | E | 32k

There is little Harry hates more than truth or dare.

And Louis.

queen of enemies to lovers! it’s been a while since i’ve reread this but too absolutely no surprise, it’s just as amazing as always <3 sarah never misses!

✰ Too Young To Know by @2tiedships2 | M | 35k

Harry doesn’t present as an alpha… until he does.

really enjoyed this as per usual! exes to lovers is my jam and the added angst of Louis dating someone else at the beginning... love <3

✰ Some Things Take Root* by  navigator & quitter | E | 50k

Louis' ex doesn't get jealous of anyone besides Harry. Harry helps Louis use that to his advantage.

stumbled upon this randomly and decided to reread on a whim... ended up staying up to read it in one sitting! so good!

✰ Safe and Sound (You’ll Always Be) by @all-these-larrythings | E | 58k

When a failed case and a guilty conscience leaves Harry more than a little lost, his boss presents him with a new, less taxing assignment to help him cope. An escape from all the madness is just what Harry needs to get his life back on track. It's just too bad his new client has a grin like the devil, a pair of electric eyes that Harry simply can't get over, and no intention whatsoever of letting him catch a break.

i don’t know how i’ve never read this before??? it was absolutely amazing though! perfect blend of humor and fluff and tension and angst <3

✰ Mind Over Matter (You Under Me) by @youreyesonlarry | E | 74k

It’s dark outside when Harry finishes practice for the day. 

the slow burn in this fic killed me - which is to say, it was perfect! loved how they progressed from working together to being friends to something more and how much they genuinely cared for each other! the hockey was so fun too!

✰ Call Out My Name by frenchkiss | E | 102k

Apparently, it's bad PR to fall in love with the omega you hired to help you through your rut.

Harry Styles begs to differ.

ellen truly knocked it out of the park with this one!! had everything i could ever want: abo, famous/non-famous, fluff, humor, angst, drama, and more! i loved it from beginning to end!

wips ~

✰ ‘cause all our tomorrows lead the way by @loubellies | E | 64k | 7/11

So maybe Louis’ in over his head.

He had signed up for the Bachelor on a whim after his second bottle of wine and well, here he is. He’s just been announced as the twenty-sixth Bachelor and his ass is sweating. Like, literally sweating. He’s positive that if he was to turn around, the entirety of Bachelor Nation would get a nice peek of his ass sweat.

am thoroughly enjoying each chapter!! it’s been a wild ride so far and although things are currently calm, i am still on edge!! but i trust mar with my life <3

✰ Truth Behind Golden Eyes by @lwtisloved | E | 83k | 8/16 

Louis is a royal servant born with magic in a kingdom where his sole existence is outlawed with a war he has no idea he has a part in upon him. Harry is the prince on whom the burden of mending a broken kingdom falls upon and he might be willing to risk it all for a simple servant if only he admitted it to himself.

caught up last night! still really enjoying every chapter and can’t wait to see what happens next!! things are *happening* with h&l and answers are being given!! (love the jealousy too!)

non-1d ~

✰ Keep Me Close (I Need Your Faith) by @princelouisau | E | 23k

Somewhere along the way he had fallen in love and in doing so, had broken the one rule he knew he couldn’t come back from. As quickly as he realised, he decided that he must never dare speak it. He resigned himself to loving Draco in silence.

first foray into reading drarry... and, to no one’s surprise, i loved it! beautiful writing as always and beautiful atmosphere! it’s really not a shock that i fell for these characters and their story when danielle is behind it <3 it had me entranced from beginning to end!!

finally, i myself actually posted a fic this month:

my fics ~

✰ yesterday came suddenly by me | E | 49k | mpreg 

Harry the deadliest member of the NYC assassins’ guild, is forced to face a seemingly impossible task in hopes of finally leaving the underground behind for good, but when ghosts from the past come back to haunt him, escaping the darkness becomes that much harder.

If you read any of these beautiful works of art, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!

*if i made any errors, please let me know :)

enjoy!

[buckywilsonbarnes]

I’ll Make This Feel Like Home

I’ve been sitting on this WIP for a while, so I finally decided to finish and post it! It’s just pure self-induglent Sambucky domestic fluff, but my heart really needed it after watching those scenes of them together in Louisiana. 😍😍😍

~*~

Sam x Bucky (4.8K of pure fluff, rated T.) No applicable warnings other than TFATWS spoilers for anyone who hasn’t watched the series yet.

"That," Bucky says as he pushes back from the table and pats his stomach, "was the best goddamn meal I've ever had. Seriously, like ever. You really outdid yourself," he tells Sarah, who gives him a shy smile in return.

"Thank you, Bucky," Sarah beams, her smile growing even wider as she reaches out to pat his shoulder. "I like this one," she tells Sam. "He's a keeper."

"Yeah, he sure is," Sam grins. "I thought about returning him a couple of times, but he kinda grew on me," he winks while slipping his hand under the table and squeezing Bucky's knee.

That causes a very attractive blush to spread across Bucky's face, and Sam can't help thinking about all of the ways he could make that happen again.

Bucky gives Sam a private smile and says, "I guess you're stuck with me."

"I can live with that," Sam happily agrees.

"Will you be staying long?" Sarah asks Bucky as she stands up and starts collecting their empty plates. "Not that I'm kicking you out, I promise. We have plenty of room, and you're more than welcome to stay as long as you like."

Or forever, Sam thinks, but he keeps that to himself.

This thing with Bucky, these fond looks and lingering touches, that's not exactly new territory for them.

It's just been a while, and Sam's a little unsure of the protocol here when they've only spent a handful of days together after nearly a month of radio silence.

That wasn't Sam's choice, but Bucky was furious when Sam mentioned that he was going to turn in the shield. Sam hadn't even done it yet, but it still led to an ugly argument which ended with Bucky refusing to answer Sam's texts or phone calls after that. Things only got worse from there when the government gave the shield to Walker, but Sam didn't feel like he had much of a choice in the matter.

Sam's no fool, he knew the government wouldn't allow him to become the next Captain America. It had been a sweet gesture on Steve's part, but it left Sam with more questions than he had answers for.

After they returned from the blip, Sam ended up living in Wakanda with Bucky for a while since his previous apartment in D.C. was long gone. It was a hard truth to accept, but a lot had changed in five years. Sam knew he could go back to Delacroix and live with Sarah and the boys, but he wasn't quite ready for that yet.

Not that he didn't miss them dearly, but he wanted to take some time to adjust to this new normal before moving back home. It was a lot to process at the time, and Sam definitely didn't want to give Sarah any more reasons to worry about him.

Naturally, Shuri and T'Challa happily opened their hearts and home to him when Bucky explained Sam's situation. They were extremely gracious about it and assured Sam that he was welcome to stay as long as he wanted.

That only ended up being a few months, but it allowed Sarah to prepare for Sam's return, and for Sam to be in a much better mental state.

Truth be told, Sam's not quite sure he could have recovered as quickly as he did if it weren't for Bucky.

Bucky, who hadn't even hesitated to ask Shuri and T'Challa if Sam could stay in Wakanda with them.

Bucky, who had been nothing but sweet and charming to him the entire time Sam was there.

Bucky, who always held and comforted Sam when he needed it.

Bucky, who never judged or pitied Sam when he cried.

Bucky, who always dried Sam's tears with a gentle touch.

Bucky, who understood that anger was a perfectly valid emotion, given everything they'd been through.

Bucky, who was typically a man of few words, but happily talked Sam's ear off whenever Sam needed a distraction from his thoughts.

Bucky, who has been through his own share of personal horrors, but always put Sam's comfort and well-being before his own.

Bucky, who quickly became one of Sam's very best friends and completely stole his heart.

Their nights together in Wakanda were Sam's favorite because they would often lie on a blanket under the stars, just the two of them. They told each other things they never shared with anyone else, not even Steve, and Sam really enjoyed getting to know the real Bucky.

Their interactions always remained platonic, but Sam would be lying if he said he didn't want more. He often wondered if Bucky did too, but Sam ended up leaving before he had a chance to find out.

Back in the present, Bucky shakes his head in response to Sarah's question as he gives Sam a wistful smile.

"Nah, I wish. I've got some things to take care of back in Brooklyn, so I'm leaving tomorrow, actually. But," he adds hopefully, "I would love to come back for another visit sometime. If that's okay."

"Absolutely," Sarah nods. "You're always welcome here anytime, so don't be a stranger," she says as she leans down and kisses Bucky's cheek.

"Watch yourself, baby sister," Sam glares as he swats at her with a dish towel.

"Do that again Samuel, and I'm throwing out the rest of the beignets," Sarah threatens.

"Okay, truce," Sam relents as he holds up his hands in mock surrender. Sarah's beignets are his favorite, and he doesn't doubt that she would throw them away just to spite him.

"I better have another one, just in case he decides to stick his foot in his mouth again," Bucky tells Sarah as he reaches for the plate of leftovers.

"Oh, you think you're cute, huh?" Sam smirks as he snaps the dish towel in Bucky's direction this time.

"Not as cute as you, Samuel," Bucky drawls just before taking a bite of the fluffy pastry.

Sam's entire face flushes hotly as he looks up and meets Bucky's eyes.

Is he…flirting?

It's been a while since anyone has flirted with him, so Sam is a bit out of practice. Still, there's a mischievous twinkle in Bucky's eyes that Sam hasn't seen in months. The warmth suddenly spreads from his cheeks straight down to places that he doesn't want to think about with his little sister in the room.

"Well, at least we agree on something," Sam jokes as he plucks the half-eaten beignet out of Bucky's hand and pops it into his mouth. It's a weak reply, but it's all his brain could come up with after being caught off guard like that.

Bucky isn't even fazed, he just reaches for another beignet and eats it in two bites. "God, these are amazing," he moans.

It's pure torture for Sam, watching helplessly as Bucky licks the powdered sugar from his lips.

"Thank you," Sarah says as she places a sealed paper bag in front of Bucky. "These are for you to take home with you. They won't be quite as good as they are when they're fresh, but just heat them up in the oven for about five minutes and they'll be pretty close."

"Marry me," Bucky says dramatically as he reaches for both of Sarah's hands. "Make an honest man out of me, Sarah Wilson."

"You're sweet," Sarah giggles as she pulls her hands back and dusts them off, "but I don't feel like being turned into fish food."

"Empty threats," Bucky waves dismissively in Sam's direction. "He'll eventually learn to accept our love."

Sam almost chokes on his beer at Bucky's words. He knows it's all a joke and he's pretty sure (okay, somewhat sure) that Bucky isn't actually interested in his sister, but it still leaves a very unsettling feeling in his stomach.

Especially because Bucky can really lay on the charm when he wants to.

"I'm going to miss you," Sarah tells Bucky as she holds out her arms and wraps him up in a hug.

No, Sam is absolutely not jealous about that. He's just going to drink the rest of his beer and pretend like he doesn't want to pry them apart. (He is secretly thrilled that they get along so well, but he can obviously never let them know that. It would give them too much power.)

"I'll miss you too, sweetheart," Bucky says as he lifts Sarah right off of her feet and swings her around. "I promise I'll be back, though."

"I'm holding you to that," Sarah tells him while poking Bucky's chest.

"Please do," Bucky laughs as he sets her back down.

"Okay gentlemen," Sarah says as she continues stacking plates next to the sink, "any chance you guys might take care of the dishes so I can pry the boys away from their video game and tuck them in?"

"Of course," Bucky nods while reaching out and offering Sam a hand. "You wash, I'll dry?"

"Deal," Sam grins as he lets Bucky help him to his feet. Not that Sam needs it, but he loves that Bucky is so delightfully chivalrous.

"Don't let him trick you into doing all the work," Sarah warns Bucky as she pulls him into another hug. "And you better come down and say goodbye before you leave tomorrow."

"Yes ma'am," Bucky says as he gives Sarah one last squeeze. "Thanks again for dinner, and just for everything, really."

"Thanks for always keeping my brother safe," Sarah smiles at them both as she exits the kitchen.

"Your family is amazing," Bucky tells Sam once they're alone. "Cass and AJ are the sweetest kids, and I'm really going to miss this place."

"Don't miss it for too long then," Sam says as he claps a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "I know you have stuff to sort out in Brooklyn, but you can always come back here afterward. Maybe stay a while and make a proper vacation of it," he suggests.

"I thought we were going to take separate vacations?" Bucky teases.

"I've got Carlos and his fillet knife on speed dial, just so you know," Sam jokes as he grabs two more beers from the fridge and hands one to Bucky.

"I'm kidding," Bucky says as he accepts the bottle. Their fingers connect briefly, and Sam wishes they could live in this moment forever. No threats on their lives, no drama, just each other.

"Well I'm serious about you coming back. You up for it?" Sam asks.

"Definitely," Bucky nods before taking a sip from his beer. "Just let me tie up some loose ends in Brooklyn, then I'm all yours," he winks.

It's a common phrase, Sam realizes, but it still causes a sudden warmth to bloom in his chest.

I'm all yours.

Yeah, he could get used to that.

"Works for me," Sam says as he sets his beer down and turns his attention to the sink.

Bucky's words keep replaying in his head like a broken record: I'm all yours…I'm all yours...I'm all yours… so Sam has to occupy his hands before he does something reckless.

"Here, let me help," Bucky offers as he grabs a clean dish towel and joins Sam by the sink.

Bucky's 'help' turns out to be nothing but a distraction since he's pressed up against Sam's side, warm and solid. Sam's not really sure when Bucky started wearing cologne, but the one he's got on right now smells familiar. It's probably one of his own, Sam distantly realizes, since they both showered just before dinner.

Bucky hadn't brought much with him besides a single change of clothing, so he likely hadn't packed many toiletries.

"Are you wearing my cologne?" Sam asks out of curiosity, not that he minds in the least. Bucky usually just smells like fabric softener, which always makes Sam want to hold him close and breathe him in.

"Yeah," Bucky admits, "I hope you don't mind. I didn't bring any, so I just wanted to smell nice."

"You do," Sam says as he nudges Bucky's shoulder. What he doesn't dare mention is the fact that Bucky smells exactly like he probably would if he woke up in Sam's arms, with their combined scents mingling together. "You look nice, too," he adds in what he hopes is an appreciative tone.

Since Bucky neglected to pack anything to sleep in, he's wearing one of Sam's favorite T-shirts and a pair of his sweatpants. The shirt is a bit snug, but it clings to him in all the right places.

"Thanks," Bucky blushes as Sam hands him some plates to dry.

"You're welcome," Sam says while trying his best not to think about how much better that shirt would look on his bedroom floor.

"Do you think Sarah would share her beignet recipe with me?" Bucky asks a moment later.

"Doubtful," Sam snickers. "She's definitely taking that one to the grave with her. Hell, I don't even know it," he confesses.

"Oh," Bucky frowns. "Well, maybe she can still teach me how to make 'em even if we use a different recipe," he muses. "They're so goddamn addictive."

Shaking his head, Sam says, "they'll never be the same. You need water from the bayou to make them just right."

"Bullshit," Bucky scoffs as he gives Sam a playful shove.

"Hey, don't mock the process," Sam laughs, "but I can teach you if you really want to learn."

"Cool," Bucky grins. "I did a lot of cooking when I was in the Army. I wasn't half bad at it, actually."

"I can see that about you," Sam nods. "Especially living in Brooklyn. I bet you'll turn into one of those foodie snobs in no time."

"Nah," Bucky shakes his head, "I've never been too picky when it comes to food. My ma always taught me to eat whatever was put in front of me, so I doubt I'll ever become a snob about it."

"Sounds like she raised you right, then," Sam smiles.

"Guess so," Bucky agrees as he ducks his head shyly.

They work in companionable silence for the next few minutes, with Sam washing the dishes and then handing them over for Bucky to dry. The kitchen has a nice, wide sink, but no luxuries such as a dishwasher. That's fine with Sam, though. He's glad Sarah chose to preserve the original architecture, rather than overload the house with too many modern fixtures.

"Are there any more dishes left?" Sam asks a little while later as he's rinsing off some forks.

"Nope," Bucky says as he reaches around Sam and shuts off the tap. "All done," he adds in a low voice as he anchors his hands on Sam's hips and presses himself close.

It's so unexpected that it shocks Sam into dropping the forks back into the sink.

"Shit," he curses as soapy water splashes the front of his T-shirt.

"Sorry," Bucky laughs, clearly aware of the effect he's having on Sam.

"No you're not," Sam fires back because Bucky knows exactly what he's doing.

"No, I'm really not," Bucky purrs as he tucks his face into the curve of Sam's neck.

Sam had forgotten how sexy the scrape of stubble could feel. Sweet Jesus.

"Are you nuzzling me?" Sam tries to play it cool, but his voice betrays him by cracking slightly.

"Mmmhmm," Bucky confirms as he rests his chin on Sam's shoulder. "Just let me know if this makes you uncomfortable, and I promise I'll stop."

"Okay," Sam says a bit shakily, "did you accidentally eat some catnip?" Friendly touches are pretty common between them now, but there's absolutely nothing platonic about the way Bucky's got him pressed up against the counter.

Bucky chuckles at that while slipping his hands under Sam's shirt and trailing them over the smooth skin just above Sam's waistband. "I'm fine, Sam."

"Well something's up," Sam insists, but he doesn't pull away.

"Not yet," Bucky leers as he gives Sam's hips a squeeze. "But maybe if you play your cards right."

"Buck," Sam freezes, because that is entirely possible to misinterpret, "are you flirting with me?"

"Well, if you have to ask, then I'm obviously doing it wrong," Bucky laughs again. "I was a lot smoother back in the forties, I swear."

"You're doing fine," Sam praises as he melts into Bucky's touch. "You just caught me off guard, that's all."

"I'm full of surprises, sweetheart," Bucky whispers as he grazes his lips against Sam's neck.

Sam can't help shivering at the touch, because Bucky's lips are a warm contrast to the crisp evening breeze filtering through the open windows. The sweet scent of gardenias fills the air as Sam tries to calm his racing heart.

It's just Bucky, he thinks, which would have completely unnerved him once upon a time. Now it's a familiar comfort, like his favorite sweater, or the melodic sound of his nephews' laughter. Still, he can't seem to contain the flutter in his chest because he knows they're crossing a line that they've been cautiously avoiding for years.

"I like surprises," Sam says as he turns around and grips Bucky by the front of the T-shirt. The fabric is soft, and he can feel the heat from Bucky's skin seeping through it.

"I like you," Bucky counters as he cradles Sam's jaw with one hand. With the other, he hooks his fingers into Sam's belt loops and hauls him closer.

"I like you too," Sam admits as he drops his hands down and settles them on Bucky's waist.

"Glad we're on the same page," Bucky grins as he sweeps his thumb over Sam's cheek. "Would it be terribly old-fashioned of me to ask for permission to kiss you?"

"Yes," Sam says, eyes sparkling with delight, "but I sure hope that's not gonna stop you."

"Consider this my formal request, then," Bucky winks as he tilts Sam's face up.

"Permission granted, Sergeant," Sam murmurs just before Bucky kisses him. It's a slow, sweet drag of their lips at first, then Bucky carefully changes the angle as he cups the back of Sam's neck and deepens the kiss.

Sam lets out a whimper as he reaches up to run his fingers through Bucky's hair. It's the shortest it's ever been since Sam has known him, but he loves it like this. Bucky barely looks older than he did in the forties, and he's still every bit as handsome.

"Finally," Bucky pants shakily against Sam's mouth. "God, I've been wanting to do that for so long."

"Me too, baby," Sam replies as he wraps his arms around Bucky's neck.

"Well then, I guess we'll just have to make up for lost time," Bucky suggests as he leans in for another kiss. It's every bit as sweet as the first one but slightly less gentle as he pins Sam to the counter and rocks their hips together.

"Fuck," Sam groans as he pulls back suddenly and rubs Bucky's cheek. He can hear the TV upstairs so he knows that someone is still awake. Probably Sarah, but it could easily be the boys since it's not even that late. "As much as I really want to take this further, we can't right now. Not until we're sure that everyone's asleep."

"Sweetheart," Bucky says as he slides forward and nudges their noses together. "You don't owe me any explanations. This is your house and I would never want to make anything weird for you and your family. Especially for you, Sam."

"I know," Sam nods, "and I really appreciate that. I just wish we had some privacy, that's all."

"We will," Bucky smiles while adding, "they've gotta fall asleep sometime, right?"

"Right," Sam laughs as he kisses Bucky softly. "You're amazing, you know that? Just in case I don't tell you enough."

"Wait, does that mean I'm not as annoying as you like to pretend I am?" Bucky teases.

"No," Sam grins brightly, "you're definitely still annoying."

Bucky rolls his eyes fondly as he reaches for Sam's hand and steers him into the living room. "Well you're no picnic either, baby doll," he says finally as he drops down onto the couch and pulls Sam into his arms.

"Must be why we're perfect for each other, huh?" Sam winks as he settles onto Bucky's lap and kisses him again.

"Must be," Bucky agrees as he wraps his arms around Sam's neck and kisses him back.

*

"So, there's something I wanted to talk to you about," Bucky tells Sam a while later when they're curled up on the couch watching TV.

"What is it?" Sam asks as he sits up and turns to face Bucky. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," Bucky replies. "But I kinda broke the lease on my apartment, so that's why I'm heading back to Brooklyn. There's not much left in it, honestly, but I have to pick up the rest of my stuff and then just turn in my keys. I could use some company though if you wanna come with me?"

"Of course, baby," Sam says as he reaches out and squeezes Bucky's knee. "Oh shit, I should probably check for a last-minute flight, though."

"No need," Bucky tells him. "I, uh, kinda hoped you'd say yes, so I already got you a ticket."

"And what if I said no?" Sam challenges.

"Oh," Bucky frowns, "then guess I'd just go alone and miss you the whole time."

"Who knew you were such a drama queen?" Sam smirks while leaning in to kiss Bucky's pout away. "I'm kidding, baby; I'd love to go with you. But wait, where are you moving to then?"

"Well," Bucky blushes, "that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I used to love living in New York, but it's changed a lot since I was a kid. It's too damn loud, for one," he laughs. "That, or maybe I'm just not cut out for big city life anymore."

"So, you're leaving the city," Sam says, but it's not a question. He tried to talk Bucky out of moving there in the first place, but he figured it must have been a comfort thing. It's the only place Bucky has ever lived, so it made sense that he'd end up there, at least for a little while.

"Yeah," Bucky nods. "It's just not home to me anymore. I mean, I guess it hasn't been for the last eighty years, so I think it's time to move on."

"So where did you have in mind?" Sam asks. He doesn't want to assume anything, but he suddenly feels pretty hopeful about what Bucky may be getting at.

"Here," Bucky says while brushing his lips against Sam's. "You're home to me, so I just wanna be wherever you are, baby. I already looked up some apartment listings earlier and I found a few that looked promising. I mean, if you're cool with all of this. I don't want to make you feel pressured, or make things weird, or - "

Sam cuts him off with a kiss so intense that it leaves them both completely breathless.

"Bucky," Sam pants a moment later. "Are you kidding me? You know I hated the idea of you living all alone in Brooklyn, and I hope you know that I always want you around me."

"Always?" Bucky blushes as he shifts closer and rubs his nose against Sam's.

"Always," Sam repeats as he tilts his head and kisses Bucky again. "You're not gonna need that apartment, though."

"I won't?" Bucky says while giving Sam a teasing grin. "How come?"

"Well," Sam explains as he hauls Bucky off of the couch and leads him over to the window. From there, they have a perfect view of the backyard which is bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. "I was actually thinking about building a place for us. We own this land and there's plenty of extra room," he adds while gesturing out the window. "So I was thinking we could build an extension for ourselves, sort of like a guest house. That way, we'll have our privacy, but we can still be near Sarah and the boys. What do you think?"

"I think that sounds like a goddamn amazing plan to me," Bucky says as he turns to wrap his arms around Sam and pull him close. "I haven't known your family for even a whole day yet but I already love them almost as much as I love you," he smiles before leaning in for another kiss.

"Whoa," Sam gasps. "You love me?"

"So much," Bucky nods. "I know it's probably way too soon to say it, but - "

"No, it isn't," Sam disagrees as he gently trails his fingertips over the scruff on Bucky's jaw, "not if you really mean it."

"I've honestly never meant anything more," Bucky murmurs as he steals another kiss. This one is just a quick peck, but Sam still feels it all the way down to his toes.

"Bucky, I - "

"I don't expect you to say it back," Bucky quickly interjects before Sam can even get a word in. "I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me, sweetheart. I know I'm not good with words, and okay, most of the time I'm just not good at expressing myself in general, but - "

"Bucky," Sam tries a little more firmly this time as he rubs the back of Bucky's neck. "I love you too. I've known it since Wakanda for sure, but probably even before that, honestly. You may be a pain in my ass sometimes, but you're the only one I trust with my heart," he finishes as he tugs Bucky forward and kisses him deeply.

"Holy shit," Bucky says as he pulls back and gives Sam a hopeful look. "You love me? Like really?"

"Really," Sam nods as he reaches for Bucky's hand and drags him back over to the couch. "I know it's been a while since we've talked about it," he continues once they get settled, "but I honestly don't know where I'd even be right now if it weren't for you. I was really struggling to accept how much life had changed after the blip, but you," Sam pauses as he turns toward Bucky and scoots closer, "you were my knight in shining armor. Literally," he emphasizes as he reaches for Bucky's vibranium hand and squeezes it. "Thank you, baby. That really meant a lot to me, just in case I don't say it enough."

"Sweetheart, you of all people have nothing to thank me for," Bucky says. "You deserve the world, Sam Wilson, he whispers as he takes hold of Sam's jaw and kisses him again.

"Thank you," Sam pants between kisses. "It's not a competition, but you know you deserve nice things too, right?"

Bucky smiles softly as he leans back and grips Sam by the shoulders. "Baby, I've already got everything I could ever possibly need or want right here."

The with you part goes unspoken, but Sam hears it anyway.

"I love you," Bucky continues as he gives Sam's shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "When I escaped from HYDRA, I never dreamed that I could be happy again, or that I'd fall in love and have a shot at a normal life. Not that anything about our lives is exactly normal," he laughs.

"No, definitely not," Sam agrees, "but we make it work."

"We sure do, sugar," Bucky says as he drops a kiss on Sam's shoulder.

"So how about it?" Sam asks as he reaches for Bucky's hand and laces their fingers together. "Do you think you could be happy here in Delacroix?"

"I don't care where we live," Bucky says as he slides onto Sam's lap. "Here, New York, Wakanda, fucking Mars, even. Delacroix is amazing, but honestly, I'll be happy wherever we are as long as you're there with me," he finishes as he tilts Sam's face up for a kiss.

"You know we don't have any of those fancy sushi joints here, right? Or those hipster coffee shops that you love so much," Sam teases.

"That's okay," Bucky grins as he presses a trail of kisses up Sam's neck. "I make damn good coffee actually, and I happen to know of a fantastic place to get seafood. The owners are a little grumpy, but you learn to love 'em."

"Is that so?" Sam pretends to glare as he pokes Bucky in the ribs.

"Yes it is," Bucky huffs while trying to squirm out of Sam's grasp. "And I think the one with the hot ass might have a crush on me."

"You better be talking about me," Sam smirks as he shoves Bucky backward and crawls on top of him.

"Only you, my love," Bucky says seriously as he wraps his arms around Sam's neck.

"Good answer," Sam winks as he bends down and kisses Bucky slowly. "I love you," he adds when he pulls back and rests their foreheads together.

Bucky smiles at that, sweet and soft and so ridiculously fond as he leans in and nuzzles Sam's cheek.

"I love you more."

~*~

[amymel86]

Hello! Do you have any bits of your awesome writing to share for WIP wednesday?😍

I just saw this anon!

And thank you for asking <3

This is a bit more of this as yet untitled 'post-apocalyptic/fertility/modern arranged relationship???' fic. The first bit I posted on tumblr is here and as before, some things are not yet decided (like town names) and things may change...

“Are you sure this is what you want to do, darling?” Her mother’s voice on the telephone was a balm to her soul.

Sansa’s finger brushed the soft vivid petals of the small potted iris she’d bought at the store today. The iris symbolises hope, wisdom and courage among other things and she prays that the pretty purple and yellow bloom will lend her some of those. “I’ve got to try something, Mum,” she says, turning her attention to the two separate bundles of paper in front of her. Two men, two candidates, two different futures. Sansa had filled out all the matching service’s extensive questionnaires and scrutinised all the information she could find on the program. It seemed simple enough – you’re rewarded for helping to repopulate. In turn, the authorities help to pair you with someone who should be a good match dependant on all the information they have about you. The aim is that this new generation of children are raised in the traditional family unit. That had appealed to Sansa. “I can’t seem to find the right guy all on my own anyway,” she said into her phone.

“How do you know it will be safe, though?”

“It says here that my situation will be monitored by my own caseworker. I can call them any time I want. They’re not just going to drop me at the guy’s house and just leave us get on with it.”

“Hmmm... tell me about them? These men that they’ve narrowed down for you.”

“One’s called Waymar, he’s a financial advisor here in the Vale,” Sasna pauses, looking at the man’s photograph on his paperwork before fishing out the other. “And the other is called Jon, he owns a farm in the Reach.”

“None in the north then?” Her mother has been itching to get her back home. “I just wish there was a way to know that either of them were good men, Sansa. That’s all I want for you.”

Sansa put the two photos together. Two possible fathers for her child.

“That’s what I want too.”

***

“Shit! Holy fucking shit!” Jon says to himself, hanging up from his phone-call. “Mance!” he yells, bursting out of his trailer to find the old man. “Mance! It worked! It fucking worked!”

He’d relented. When Mance first put it to him that he should sign up for that weird government breeding program or whatever the fuck it was, he thought the old man’s last brain-cell must’ve fried up in the sun. But if they were going to make it easier for them and it meant Mance could keep the farm (and Jon could carry on living there rent free), then it was worth a shot. So he had relented. He’d filled out what seemed to be a gazillion and one questions about himself, his politics, his views on family and finances and education and fucking... art and shit. These damned government people wanted to know everything about him down to whether he scrunched or folded his toilet paper it seemed. He’d even had to lie. He didn’t like doing it, but there was no way that a fertile was going to pick him if he didn’t. So, he fished out an old photograph – one taken before the bar brawl that lost him his sight in one eye, and he’d also lied his asscheeks off by claiming he had ownership of the farm. He knew – he knew – that these lies are just more things that were going to trip him up one of these days but with Mance urging him on, he’d signed that damn form and offered himself up for the program.

And now a fertile had chosen him.

Him.

Fuck, he might throw up.

This can go one of two ways. Either completely up Shit Creek without a paddle – with his lies and reality crashing down on top of one another, leaving them exposed... or, his fertile somehow looks past his deceits and sticks with him and they-... well, shit, he could actually become a father. No-one becomes parents these days, especially not ‘round here. Fertiles flock to the big cities, to men with bigger pockets, or they work for couples who can afford to pay them off in exchange for a kid or two.

“It worked?” Mance asks, rolling out from under an old Ford pickup that needed a new exhaust. “They sendin’ us a peach?”

Jon shook his head. “They’re not sendin’ you anyone, old man. An’ don’t call her that – they’re-“ Fuck, what did the council call them on all that paperwork? “Reproductively abled.” He’ll have to remember that if he doesn’t want to offend her.

“Well, shit,” Mance grins. “What did I tell ya? Knew your pretty face was good for somethin’!”

Jon frowns. “Ain’t so pretty no more though.” He might have to go get himself a patch to cover his milky, sightless eye. It’s fine most of the time since Mance is the only one he sees unless he’s going to drink at Hobb’s, but he certainly doesn’t want to put off his ferti- reproductively abled friend who’ll be arriving in three weeks.

“She got a name? Your new peach?” Mance asked, earning him a glare.

“Sansa. Sansa Stark.”

Mance grunts and nods. “Sounds fancy.”

Yeah... It did sound kinda fancy he supposes. Jon’s first reaction had been that it was a mighty beautiful name, but now he thinks of it...

“Shame we can’t look her up – see if she’s a beauty or not.”

Jon can’t remember a time when that was an option. He was barely 11 at the highest point of the virus’s hold. Government officials had deemed certain channels on the internet were causing more harm than good by spreading false rumours, incorrect statistics and completely counterintuitive medical advice. The whole thing was shut down, now deemed illegal, only to be reconnected again three years later apparently looking like a foreign landscape from the one before. The internet was no longer a platform to socialise, only government approved informative sites remained. Mance says it’s better this way – that all people used to do was post vain images of themselves for attention anyway.

Jon wouldn’t mind seeing a vain image of Sansa Stark right about now though.

Not that it mattered terribly. As long as they get along and she decides to stick around she could be as ugly as sin. In fact, she probably will be, won’t she? Most pretty ferti- reproductively abled women stick to the cities and its high-fliers.

It doesn’t matter, he told himself. You just gotta keep her happy here and-

“Mance?” he asks, an issue coming to mind. The man grunts in acknowledgement. “Where the fuck is she gonna sleep? She’s not gonna want to stay in my trailer.”

The man grins in response. “I’m glad you asked, boy. I’m glad you asked.”

***

Her caseworker was meant to meet her at the train station. It was quite a drive to the farm and he was meant to pick her up, make sure she’s safe and happy and introduce her to Jon.

That hasn’t happened.

“Please accept my apologies, my dear,” Mr Baelish said down the other end of the phone. “There’s been a mix up with my schedule. We can set you up for the night at a local motel or ask your match to come and get you. Which would you prefer?”

Sansa eyes the dirty looking motel across the street from the train station. Everything here at [[INSERT TOWN NAME]] seems a little on the... rundown side. Maybe the sooner she gets to the farm, the better. Plus, her tummy is all a flutter with anticipation to actually meet Jon. She’d wound up swaying towards Jon as a match due to a few reasons; 1 – he does not live in, around, or anywhere near Harry or his crazy mother. 2 – he owns a farm, and that had conjured up hazy daydreams of idyllic country life. Sansa may enjoy big nights out in the city, drinking her dirty margaritas and feeling her bones vibrate against the base beat in a nightclub, but she knows that’s not what she wants to raise a child around. A child will want to run barefoot through wheat fields and chase chickens and milk cows and –

Let’s just say Sansa has a few ideas and that they all helped to sway her away from city pleasures and towards farmhouse life. And Jon

And last, but not least, reason number 3 – Jon himself. Put side-by-side, his and Waymar’s photographs looked rather similar if truth be told, but Jon won out on something that Sansa just couldn’t describe. Looking at his photograph gave her goosepimples along her forearms because it was like he was looking right back at her. There was something in the depths of his eyes – a kindness? A wit? A strength? She’s not sure, but she couldn’t find the same qualities when she stared at Waymar’s likeness. And his answers too. His questionnaire was full of how he’d like to teach a kid how to walk and ride a bike and fix a... a tractor for heaven’s sake! And so her head was flooded once more of this idyllic life where they got up to watch the dawn stretch over the farmland and they’d grow their own vegetables and she’d bake a pie every day and it would just be perfect.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

Sansa glances around the near abandoned train station.

This doesn’t look so perfect right now.

“Could you please arrange for Jon to come and get me, Mr Baelish?”

***

It’s been an hour and fifty-six minutes precisely since Sansa last spoke to Mr Baelish to arrange her match coming to get her. An hour and fifty-six minutes of sitting on the curb, waiting, surrounded by her three suitcases. She’d started off by sitting at the nearby bus stop, purely because it was somewhere to sit and she had a clear view of the road, but after the rude bus driver insisted that if she’s sat there, she must be wanting to hop on his bus, Sansa decided to park her butt on the dusty, sun-baked curb instead. Her legs were beginning to numb and she was starting to get a headache from the sun beaming down on her head. The curls she’d styled into her copper locks have likely lost their hold by now. What a waste. Opposite, on the other side of the street, beside the dirty little motel, there was a tiny bar that advertised the fact that it hosted exotic dancers at the weekends with a blinking neon sign. Next to it was a hunting and fishing ‘emporium’ and beside that was a vacant store with an old dirty sign that read ‘Blouses & More!’. Presumably, the ‘& more’ still wasn’t enough to keep that fine establishment in business in this funny little town. At the end of the block was ‘Tarly’s Drugstore’ and Sansa had been debating with herself whether or not she should haul her suitcases over to go buy a drink and a magazine for about the last hour and fifty-five minutes.

But she hadn’t wanted to miss Jon Snow’s arrival.

Jon Snow, who seemed to be pulling up outside Tarly’s Drugstore in a dusty Ford pickup truck right about now. Sansa stood, expecting him to come right on over considering how long she’d been waiting for him, but she found herself wondering if she’d got it all wrong when she hadn’t caught a good enough look at him before he darted straight into the store.

Sansa is done with waiting. She grabs her smallest case and places it on top of her larger one, trying her darnedest to roll all her luggage across the road in a lady-like fashion. She could feel the eyes of several passers-by on her while her stiletto heels clip across the street. In turn, her own gaze fell to Jon’s cream-coloured truck. Its front bumper looked a little rusty and wonky too. There was a big gash in the leather of the bench seating on the passenger side. On the truck bed, there were a number of items, including a rocking chair that seems to have a couple of spindles on the chair-back missing, and a new double bed mattress wrapped in clear plastic. Sansa was almost done frowning at the state of the vehicle when the over-door bell of the drugstore tinkles.

“Holy shit,” he curses. And yes, it definitely was Jon standing right in front of her. Only... well... his hair was tied into a knot at the back of his head and.... and... he was wearing a black eye patch? “Uh,” he stood there, arms laden with bottles from the store as the gaze from his one good eye quickly darted down her frame and back up again. “You’re her, right? You’re Sansa Stark?”

Sansa found she could only nod, looking him up and down, like he was with her. He was in jeans with oil smears, some tough, heavy looking boots, a somehow pristine white vest and flannel shirt with the arms ripped off.

Speaking of arms...

Gods-damn! Sansa’s focus was momentarily derailed...

“Sorry, I-“ Jon starts before his grey eye drops to the floor and then returns to her, looking a little bashful. “I didn’t expect you to be so pretty.”

Oh boy. He may be wearing an eye patch right now but this man could win over a thousand girls with that smile, Sansa’s sure of it. She resists the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. She’s here to find out if they’re well suited enough to start a family together – she needs to keep her head and think rationally, not allow herself to be swayed by his rugged country boy charm. It was Harry’s looks that enticed her in the first place – and look how well that turned out for her?

“Thank you,” Sansa says, blinking back at him before his words truly hit home. “Didn’t they give you my photograph?”

Jon shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

Huh.

“Did they show you mine?”

Sansa bites her lip and gives a nod.

Jon grimaces. “So I guess you weren’t expecting this?” He points to his patch.

Sansa shakes her head. “No... did you... did you do something to injure it?”

Jerking his head, Jon begins rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand. “It’s a long story... but... it ain’t gonna get any better, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“Oh.”

They stood, staring at one another for a heartbeat or five before Jon sucks in a breath over his teeth and glances down to the bottles he clutched to his chest with one arm. “I tried to get you some things to help you feel at home,” he says, “these are the nicest smellin’ soaps ‘n’ stuff from Tarly’s.”

“Thank you,” Sansa replies, knowing full well that she brought her Highgarden Floral Scents bathroom range with her.

Jon chews on his lip as he eyes her suitcases. “Lemme get those for you,” he offers before dumping the bottles in his arms into the truck bed and reaching for her luggage. Sansa’s heeled shoes seem welded to the spot. Jon notices. Scrubbing both hands down his face in resignation, he takes a step closer to her and Sansa realises for the first time, that he had dirt beneath his fingernails. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “It was a shitty thing for me to do,” he offers, his words low and husky. Sansa feels the timbre of his voice set off a trickle of gooseflesh down her spine. “I’m sorry.”

She blinks at him, momentarily confused.

“About this,” he explains, brows high on his head as he points to his patch. “I shouldn’t have sent that old photo of before this happened, but – fuck – even my ex-girl won’t acknowledge I exist anymore with this and I knew I shoulda been honest about it but-“

“This ex-girl...” Sansa suddenly found herself left with a sour taste in her mouth. “... does she still mean something to you?”

Jon licks at his lips, his eye falling briefly to her own. “No, ma’am,” he shakes his head.

[ectogeo-art]

omg i want to hear about romulan embassy siskarak

WIP ask meme

Omg, yes, thank you for asking, I’m so excited about this one!!!! :D The fic idea appeared to me fully formed as soon as I saw this post by @the-last-dillards about how in a scene cut from “The Wire”, Sisko mentions that he and Curzon were at an embassy on Romulus when Sisko was about Julian's age, and dillards speculated that it would be funny if Sisko and Curzon happened to be there at the same time as Garak was on Romulus posing as a gardener. Most everyone else who saw that post was like "lmao Curzon/Garak <3" and while that is extremely funny too, the Sisko/Garak implications are soooo much more interesting to me personally.

I think Sisko would be an interesting parallel-but-not-quite to Julian. I feel like young Sisko would be similarly bright and passionate and idealistic, which we KNOW is a type Garak is attracted to, but unlike Julian, Sisko would NOT put up with Garak’s bullshit mindgames, he would NOT find Garak inherently charming.

And then there’s Garak, still young, on top of his game, feeling confident and powerful and indestructible (but ultimately just Tain’s pawn... he’s been indoctrinated to love Cardassia unconditionally and hasn’t really had that challenged in any way yet).

They would both find each other extremely grating. Sisko embodies everything Garak hates about the Federation, so Garak would want to take him down a peg, make him sink to Garak’s level. Sisko would be infuriated by Garak’s duplicitous and condescending nature, but maybe Garak also keeps saying things that are juuuust provocative enough that Sisko can’t seem to help arguing back against his points (and Sisko really doesn’t get how that’s somehow turning both of them on...).

So that’s the gist why I’m obsessed with the potential for this pairing during pre-canon in general. Now onto the fic itself! Juuuust in case I never get around to actually writing this, here’s my detailed plan for the romulan embassy siskarak fic:

Sisko and Curzon are on assignment at the Federation embassy on Romulus. The Federation embassy is holding an open house next week. Sisko offers to help cook the food for the event, because he has an idea to incorporate ingredients from other cultures into his jambalaya recipe to Symbolize how cultural exchange can lead to amazing new technological advances and/or art and/or political alliances (or idk, whatever overwrought metaphor an excited young Sisko decides is galaxy brain levels of diplomacy). Curzon's just like “hell yeah, sounds great, kid! go for it!”

So Ensign Sisko (or whatever his rank is at that point idk) asks around at the other embassies nearby for ingredients native to their homeworlds. They give him some recommendations, but he’d have to replicate or import the ingredients. But then he gets to the Cardassian embassy and they have this beeeeautiful garden, overflowing with native Cardassian produce. Sisko asks the gardener there (Garak) if he can possibly use some of the vegetables for his jambalaya of interplanetary diplomacy.

Garak is instantly annoyed by how performative and insipid Sisko’s project is... but Garak knows he has to play nice and hand over the vegetables. He also knows how much he doesn't want sisko rendering these vegetables he's been diligently tending into tasteless inedible garbage that an unrefined Federation or Romulan palate couldn’t possibly even appreciate... So he smiles politely, and offers to show him the proper way to cook it. Tonight. In Sisko’s quarters.

Garak internally justifies this unnecessary dinner date by deciding that it will be a good opportunity to scope out the inside of the Federation embassy. And so what if he’s also getting a little riled up thinking about all the delicious arguments he might have with this headstrong and attractive Starfleet officer? So what if he kind of wants to figure out what he has to say in order break Sisko’s composure? What he can say that would make Sisko, despite his self-satisfied demeanor of peace and acceptance and understanding, angrily slam Garak into the wall hard enough to trigger the pleasurable rush of the implant...?

Meanwhile back in sisko POV... Sisko gladly accepts, actually quite eager to learn more about cooking, and a little curious about this strange Cardassian gardener who seems a little bit interested in him. (He’s not annoyed by Garak yet, because all he’s seen is his mask, his poker face.) Curzon’s taught Sisko everything about diplomacy and how to be a Starfleet officer and how to be a person, and sisko looks up to him in a bit of an unhealthy way. Sisko knows that the easiest way to impress Curzon is to score with an alien. Sisko’s maybe a little curious to see if that’s what Garak is interested in, so that Sisko will have something to brag about with Curzon.

[sidenote: idk where Jennifer is in this timeline (but also the canon timeline of when Curzon and Sisko were off on adventures that included banging twin alien chicks and getting falling-down-drunk together seems inconsistent with the canon timeline of when Sisko and Jennifer met lolll)... anyway, maybe bennifer are on a break bc of the long-distance while he’s on Romulus, and/or bc she maybe doesn’t particularly like the influence Curzon has had on him and they very recently got in a fight about it.]

Okay, so now it’s that night in Sisko’s quarters. For now let’s just gloss right over the (presumably horny as hell) scene about the chopping and stewing and seasoning of the vegetables—during which the arguments (and resulting tensions) between them build and build, from little things like vegetable chopping techniques to the fundamental paradigms of their worldviews and senses of morality—and let’s fast forward directly into the middle of their fight about whether the federation sucks more than the cardassian empire: Garak out of nowhere just starts undoing his shirt while saying something inflammatory questioning the federation’s true commitment to cultural exchange... Garak basically implies that Sisko is a hypocrite who has been arguing for ideals he doesn’t believe in if he doesn’t want to bang Garak RIGHT NOW...

And then they bang, And it’s a mess, and they HATE each other, and it’s really hot. Or at least, that’s the idea. ( @delicatetrashstranger volunteered to help write the E-rated part, for which I am very grateful, lol.) In the end, the weird space jambalaya burns while they are going at it, and everything is ruined and smells terrible, and Sisko doesn’t even WANT to brag about this one to Curzon, because he is not proud of how he let Garak get under his skin. Garak maybe experiences A Consequence of some kind that makes him realize he can’t recklessly throw himself at Federation hotties (like... maybe something Sisko says makes him question a Truth he was certain of, or maybe this fling has jeopardized his assassination plans somehow, or maybe there is a close call where he almost reveals something personal about himself, or almost accidentally leaves behind his underwear, which is where he keeps some of his sci fi Spy Gadgets, lol idk).

The end!

Hope you’ve enjoyed this summary of my fic... I hope I actually write it one day XD (If anyone feels inspired by any aspect of this and wants to run with it, PLEASE DO! Also, if, like me, you desperately Need this fic to exist, feel free to let me know that you’re excited about it! My brain is all garashir all the time, so any WIP that’s not garashir sometimes needs to be helped along by external motivation lol.)

[drowningbydegrees]

Fanfic Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @lokibus! <3 <3 <3

How many works do you have on Ao3?

54. I've written quite a bit more, but I just can't be bothered to carry over most of the fics from my LJ days. Also, once upon a time I had a super insecure streak and I went on an orphaning spree, so... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What’s your total Ao3 word count?

Apparently 457,241! Kinda same as above.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Though I Try Not To (The Witcher)

I'm so weirdly pleased about this. I fell into Witcher fandom totally by accident. I don't usually do fixit fics, but I couldn't help myself. This is, I think, the only fic to date where I've started posting as a WIP and actually followed through and finished.

Where All Roads Lead (MCU)

If there is one plot device I'm just eternally a sucker for, it's time travel shenanigans. This was one of the two time travely fics I wrote for Stucky fandom.

For The Space of a Heartbeat (The Witcher)

I'm honestly really surprised by this? This was totally just a self indulgent spur of the moment kinda thing, and it's only a couple thousand words.

Even in the Dark I Know You (The Witcher)

Okay, I lied. There were two WIPs I actually followed through and finished. This started as a random oneshot for a whump week thing, and then the prompt for the next day fit so well with a follow up chapter that this just turned into a whole story. I really enjoy subverting tropes and with witcher biology I see a lot of sensory overload kinds of fics, so I decided to play with the idea in reverse.

Even if it Hurts (Even if it Makes Me Bleed) (The Witcher)

So, most of the time when I settle into a fandom, there's one fic idea that I feel like I cannot leave without writing. For Witcher fandom, this was that fic. I have a lot of complicated thoughts about soulmates as a romantic concept, even more so when you're involving characters like Geralt, for whom fate is so often a double edged sword. This story was very much an excuse to dig into what soulmates mean for personal agency under the guise of a narrative. XD

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Admittedly, I do this with embarrassing inconsistency. Basically, what happens is: * Something gets a good response. * I respond to a few comments and then find myself overwhelmed (mentally, not as in there are a truly overwhelming number of comments). * I step away for a bit. * A month later I realize I still haven't replied. Cue paralyzing indecision about whether it's too late to reply. * Rinse and repeat.

I do want to! And I'm working on it. I've gotten a little better about it, but my apologies to anyone who I haven't responded to. Please know I'm not intentionally ignoring you. ;_;

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Oh hmm. I had a reputation for a really long time as primarily an angst writer, but pretty much all my stories have a happy ending for some given quantity of happy. I guess it kind of depends on how one qualifies that.

Noonwraiths and Other Woodland Forest Creatures maybe. It's got a got a pretty fluffy ending.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

It's a tossup.

I, The Paradox, which is my other time travel fic from my Stucky fandom days, with a paradox (shocking) that lands Steve with two versions of Bucky. For plot purposes even! It's not a particularly smutty story. It ends sort of ambiguously. There's a sequel outlined that was meant to resolve said ambiguity, but alas, it's still sitting in my WIP folder.

Truth in the Periphery. It's a psychological horror story I wrote for an event. I think it's the only fanfic I've ever written that was really intended as a hurt/no comfort kind of story.

Do you write crossovers?

I haven't, but not because I specifically don't. I've just never had an idea that felt compelling enough to follow through on.

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Maaaaybe once or twice a long, long, long time ago, back when FFN was still the best option for posting outside of LiveJournal. I don't think it was even about the writing. I think it was someone was mad that my much younger self tried to sneak smut onto FFN.

Do you write smut? if so, what kind?

I have such a love/hate relationship with smut in my own work. I used to write it a lot because I felt like I had to. It was until I came to terms with being more or less ace irl that it occurred to me why I didn't enjoy writing it. Weirdly, I like reading it just fine.

The thing is, while I don't really care for the physical aspect of it, I like the emotional touchpoints of it, so I do still write smut sometimes. It just tends to be a little cursory in terms of action details and heavy on character dynamics.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. But I used to RP a lot, and it's always been a lot of fun, so I wouldn't be opposed to the idea!

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Oh shoot. From a romantic standpoint that varies so much depending on what fandom I'm currently feeling enthusiastic about. It's pretty much always a specific character that draws me to a fandom, so I think the most consistent ship I have is favorite character/unconditional love and support. XD

What’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

The sequel to I, The Paradox I mentioned earlier.

What are your writing strengths?

If there's one thing I feel like I have a consistently good handle on, it's emotional impact. I put a lot of thought into why people make the choices they do and how they relate to each other, and I would like to think I'm reasonably adept at leading readers to the emotional response I'm going for.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions. I'm just forever in awe of people who can just write settings/action naturally. It's a constant effort for me, and it's the thing I always feel like I fall short on. I can write navel gazing in my sleep, but an action scene? Pfftttt.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Very situational. Kind of like in movies and television. I don't have any kind of always x or y opinion on it though.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Inuyasha. It was back when I didn't have a computer of my own and would write at the library, so the only record of it was the site I used to draft and post to that is now defunct. No one is happier about this than I am. 😂

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

I think I'm genuinely pretty proud of everything I've written in the last couple of years, but if I had to pick right now, it'd be It Doesn't Break But it Bends. It's a time loop fic. Someone left "Recommended but you will sob." as their bookmark note for it and I think that might be my crowning achievement in fandom.

Tagging (if you want!): @mikkeneko @goodheavensgwen @writinglizards @plotdesigner And anyone else who wants to <3

[bigskydreaming]

Seven Sentences Game

Challenge: post the last 7 sentences you wrote and tag 7 people

Tagged by @romanticism-is-maudlinism so here’s a bit I wrote for It’s The End of the World As We Know It (I Don’t Feel Fine), part of my Ric Grayson fix-it series Bury Your Dead. This part is Jason and Cass because I absolutely love pitting the two of them against each other as I view them as capable of getting under each other’s skin in a way nobody else can. Also, they’re not having a good day here, and they’re letting it out.....another part of their dynamic in my view is I see them as being unafraid to NOT pull their punches with each other, emotionally speaking.

Tagging @rose-blooms-red and whoever else still hasn’t done this, since I’m like, days behind lol. Also, its been way too many days since I opened up a WIP document so I used this to just start writing and I’m just posting what I wrote instead of just seven sentences. Also also, counting is hard.

******

“You used me.” Jason voiced the realization with what he thought was admirable aplomb, all things considered. He didn’t even reach for his gun or anything. Course, if that had less to do with the fact that this was his sister and more that this was his sister who would just take his gun away and smack him with it if he ever drew on her, well. No one would ever know. This was his internal monologue, dammit.

For her part, Cass said nothing. Not that he’d expected her to. Most people assumed her carefully constructed silences were all just a control freak issue born of her aphasia, but they were a conversational tactic in and of themselves. Leave no trait unweaponized, after all. 

That was their family credo, wasn’t it?

“That’s why you pulled me into this instead of doing it yourself. It was never about doing this together. It was because all your information gathering resources run through B or Oracle’s networks, and they would have wanted to know why you were looking into these particular names. But you know I have my own networks for when I want their noses butting out of my affairs, so you outsourced to me.”

Lacking little sister’s comfort with the quiet, Jason filled it with his continued musings, as he circled her like a creeper. Then he stopped the circling because her refusal to shift even to track his movements made it impossible to avoid being aware of the ‘like a creeper’ part while doing that. Ugh, she was just the worst.

“Were you looking for a denial?” She asked at last. Her bored tone made it obnoxiously anticlimactic.

“Nah, just pointing out that you’re as manipulative as the rest of us, oh much vaunted ‘best of us.’“

She smiled sharply. “I see that now Dick’s not here to project your insecurities onto, you’ve shifted them to me. Fun.”

Damn. He’d been mostly going for some kinda annoying sing-song rhyme thing there, but he might have to give her that point regardless. Fucking Freudian slips.

“And I know who I am,” she said. “The only one here afraid of a little introspection is you.”

“Challenge accepted!”

Cass rolled her eyes.

To be fair, the dramatically pointed finger might have been a bit over the top.

“See, you know what’s still curious to me? The why of it all. Why you’ve been going to such great lengths uncovering these little secrets of Dick’s, leaving no stone unturned when it comes to his potential unfinished business. Why you were so worried that Julienne might have been his. And you know what I think?”

She raised an eyebrow sarcastically. Jason didn’t know how else to describe it, but it was definitely what happened. That was a sarcastic eyebrow raise.

“I think its because you feel guilty.”

“Guilty,” she repeated, with a full speech’s worth of skepticism packed nice and tight into just the two syllables.

“Yup. Guilty. Because you don’t want there to be any reason he has to go back to being Dick Grayson,” he said with a flourish, relishing the way her gaze narrowed. "Anything making him feel an actual need to get his memories back. Because you don’t want him to be Dick Grayson. You want him to stay Ric. And you feel guilty about that, but its the truth all the same.”

“And why would I want that?”

“Because you want to keep believing I’m just an outlier.”

She stilled, which was a testament to him for being able to note the difference at all. Muscles vibrating with the faintest of microtensions. Here there be dragons.

Just meant he was right.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. You’ve always been able to explain away the old man’s certain....aggressiveness towards me because of how much time I’ve spent physically at odds with the fam. Muddies the water. Makes it hard to see clearly where its just him reacting to a potential threat to his family and where he’s being the threat. But what if its not just me?”

Again, still, additionally, she remained quiet.

“And I think you know its not. I think you’ve suspected for awhile, even. But there’s a difference between knowing, and knowing.....and as long as Dick is still Ric, there’s no way to really know, right? But with all the dots he’s dropped without being able to connect them the way people with more of the whole picture can, like us.....once he gets his memories back, you couldn’t just not ask anymore. You’d have to know, once and for all. And you don’t want that. You’re afraid of that point of no return, because once past it, you might have to face that what you see when you look at B isn’t all there is to him. And if you can be that wrong about him? Well. You could be wrong about everything. And I think that scares the shit out of you, so yeah. You want Dick to stay Ric, and you feel guilty as fuck about it, but that doesn’t change the facts. And that’s what I think.”

She pursed her lips, the portrait of calm acceptance as she absorbed his tough love or total bullshit, depending on your point of view, and nodded once. Great. He was out here laying down harsh truths like he was.....someone who lays down a lot of stuff, whatever, look he was exhausted from all that unpacking, leave him alone, he needed to rest, but the point was.....all that and the best he got was a fucking nod? Screw it. Next time he was just gonna cut his losses and try for getting blood from a stone instead. Felt like that’d be more rewarding. Might see some actual dividends there.

Cass raised her hands and started making swift, fluid gestures that took him an embarrassing couple seconds to recognize as speech. Never as quick to transition from spoken word to signed as she was, he was left mentally running to catch up. Course, he suspected that was at least partially her intent.

“That’s what I love about you, little brother. Even when you have no clue what you’re talking about, you’re not afraid to commit and take it all the way.”

Punctuating with a middle finger, she pivoted sharply and stalked off into the darkness, vanishing within seconds. 

Ever the conversationalist, his sis.

[bao3bei4]

fellas is it gay (lesbian) to have mommy issues?

or, this post explained.

somewhat flippantly, i think mommy issues are more interesting than daddy issues because almost everyone has the latter in a boring way because men are terrible and we all know this, even if we don’t admit it. for mothers, however, we have an expectation of care that’s too often abrogated (to vastly varying degrees).

binghe to me has very typically gay mommy issues. but tshirt, you might say. his mother was very nice until she died. that’s true but that starts the abandonment. and she gets replaced by the worst mommy of all, original shen qingqiu. 

in a brief detour, i want to draw your attention to the section of unhappy queers by ahmed that destroyed my brain. she quotes lost and delirious, the bit where mouse is writing a letter to her mother:

"But the truth of it is I am addicted to you like chocolate. I always want to be around you. I'm some like stupid little puppy and you keep like kicking my teeth in with your words and your tone. Sometimes, I wish you were dead.”

that jettisoned my brain out of my skull, i think.

i think that that ambivalent stance towards the mother between attachment and degradation and identification and animosity is incredible. in that heady cocktail of emotions, the mother becomes both a generative & a destructive force. the generative is more obvious, but the mother figure encapsulating a death wish in both the annihilation of self and the literal self-harm sense is rich territory. she’s a scab we return to, as if by picking it we make her permeable again.

original shen qingqiu himself also has an evil mommy (yue qingyuan). actually, shen jiu, yue qingyuan, shen yuan, and luo binghe all form this awful mother quadrilateral. each of them is a failed mother or has a failed mother. and shen jiu is both and he haunts the narrative even as (in the main story) he never actually appears on screen.

he’s who shen yuan thinks he should be; and he’s who luo binghe thinks he should be. he’s also who they think the other ought to be. he’s very vers that way. so the mommy lens is play on the ways he’s made them both in his own image, and how he himself was made monstrous, and how bingqiu fit themselves around that.

back to the ambivalence of the mother figure. i wanna be clear here i’m using mommy super loosely. i think i should have clarified that sooner. i use it in the sufjan-ian sense, referring to the 2015 mommy issue ur-text “all of me wants all of you,” in which he elides SO neatly between

all of me wants all of you

and

all of me thinks less of you

and

all of me pressed on to you

each of which is ambiguously addressed to a mother or lover or savior -- some nurturer or icon to which hope has been abandoned.

we expect that mothers want the best for us. we hope that what she makes us into, she does for us. when we are not happy, we turns towards her to redress that. and as we move into mommy issues territory, we project our intense unreciprocated attachment and our deeply felt hurts, and our inability to reconcile the two in one figure. which. you know. shen qingqiu.

anyway here’s some of the particular scum villain tidbits i’ve been reflecting on. 

[watchmojo voice] epic mommy moment number 1: the endless abyss. 

there’s this bit, julia kristeva argues, from 4-8 months where babies began to realize that the mother is separate from them. in that separation between mother and child, the distinction between subjects and objects is formed. in doing so, we leave that prelingual state behind along with something else: the abject, which cannot be named or reconciled. kristeva repeatedly identifies the abject with the maternal. she describes it like this:

It is a violent, clumsy breaking away, with the constant risk of falling back under the sway of a power as securing as it is stifling.

so true queen. 

we see binghe’s understanding of shen yuan’s motivation take a sharp turn here. 

Unbeknown to him, Luo Binghe automatically took his silence as, “Very good. You wicked disciple, you actually hid this from me for so long!” (ch 27) 

so we see silences (absence of language) identified with the horror of separation from the mother. so true queen (mxtx this time). 

epic mommy moment number 2: when yue qingyuan didn’t just tell shen jiu about his sword----

actually this post is getting out of control. i’ll stop talking here for now. i will begin again when i’m ready 2 publish the horror canon rework wip on these themes.

[hargrove-mayfields]

okay so I saw this amazing post by @deardmvz and it reminded me that I had a similar wip laying around somewhere and she requested I finish it!! so here it is!!

Billy thought it would be a breeze, taking a road trip to Tennessee with Steve sounded like nothing compared to the thirty some odd hours he’d spent in the car from California to Indiana.

But twice on the way down the Camaro, on her last leg after repairs, had threatened to give up on them, the brakes getting testy until he had to pull over and give her a rest. It was the summer, and the a/c kept cutting out. Everyone seemed to have the same idea as them, and the roads were packed.

With the car giving them trouble, Steve refused to let him go any more than five over before he started gripping the seat and demanding he slow down, so what had been supposed to be a six hour trip turned into closer to ten.

So much for an easy trip.

By the time they were finally rolling into town, of course struggling to find a parking space anywhere near their destination, Billy was already dreading the drive back to Hawkins.

Because the only reason they were even here was because Steve had a craving for some taffy he’d gotten as a kid when he was down south visiting his grandma, so the minute they popped into that little candy shop and got what they were here for, they’d be back on the road within the hour.

This was a tourist trap kind of town too, 3D movie theaters and putt-putt courses and tacky museums galore, so he seriously doubted they would even be able to afford much more than a little bag of candy if they tried to stick around.

It’s decidedly worth it though, having spent all that time in the car, because he gets to see Steve all excited like, acting just like a kid again as he drags him through the crowded streets, stopping at the window of the candy shop with a smile pressed against the glass. Excitedly, he declares, “It’s still here!”

So Billy tries his best to return the smile and not let his grimace at the unexpected difficulty of the trip or the frankly ridiculous prices the place was charging for candy show. He remembers how he’d felt when he realized he would never have a cake from the local bakery back in his hometown for one of his or Max’s birthdays again, so he’d let Steve have this. Even if it cost ten bucks for a pound of taffy logs.

He buys himself a bag of cordial cherries too, figures he might as well get a little something out of it if the trip was going to be such a pain. The smile that Steve gives him when he has his own purchase at the checkout doesn’t go unnoticed either.

With their mission achieved, Steve practically skips back to where they’d left the Camaro in a pay-to-park lot a few blocks over. He stops at the drivers side door, hooks two fingers through the handle. “So who’s driving?”

“Uh-uh. You’re not taking my baby anywhere buzzed on sugar.” Steve pouts, but he doesn’t argue. Just circles around the other side and gets comfortable in the passenger seat.

Billy’s glad, because he doesn’t think he would’ve made it the whole way back home with Steve ‘drives like his late grandma’ Harrington behind the wheel.

Not too long into the ride back it’s already starting to get dark. It’s much quieter this time around, much calmer too, with the roads seeming to clear out as the sun disappears behind the mountains.

Were it not for the occasional crinkle of a candy wrapper, Billy probably wouldn’t have even known Steve was still awake, the way he was leaning so far back into his seat.

But in the same way that Steve’s back seat driving on the way up had made him feel tense, the silence makes him feel jittery, and the dark makes him paranoid. The prospect of at least another four hours in the car makes him feel trapped.

He reaches over and turns the radio on to distract from the emptiness, probably pushing the dial a bit more aggressive than was necessary, and a talk show, some sad sap call-in station where you overshare with the dj and they dedicate you a song that’s supposed to make you feel better, fills the silence, drowns out the irritating sound of tires on pavement.

He isn’t paying any attention, he’d turned it down as far as he could and still be able to hear it, so he must have missed something, because Steve sits bolt upright, bringing with him the previously reclined seat with a creak of the springs to exclaim, “Oh my god, Bill.”

He glances over at Steve for the briefest of seconds before his eyes quickly flick back to the road ahead, his heart skipping for just a second when he realizes he hadn’t been watching. “The taffy not as good as you remember it?”

“No it totally is. It’s our song, it’s on the radio.” His sounds like he’s going to burst from excitement as he explains himself and cranks the volume way high. Definitely too much sugar.

Though it’s not quite as extreme as Billy usually keeps it, it's still loud enough it takes a moment for his ears to adjust and recognize what is indeed the piano intro to what Steve had declared ‘their song’, of which he insists, “You gotta sing it babe.”

The concept of having a song was a fairly recent one, something that had been decided when Billy had started moving his things into Steve’s place, and he’d found some old record albums of his mothers that he’d kept hidden in his room for years.

Most of them were warped and scratched so badly they skipped through entire songs until they were unrecognizable as music. Others were covered in so many layers of dust and dirt they’d have needed hosed off before even thinking about putting them in their player.

Among the very few records still undamaged after being moved and stored for far too long were Farewell Andromeda, Electronically Tested, and a 45 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart/Snow Queen.

John Denver was so not their speed, and Mungo Jerry was just a little too far out there for their tastes, so they kept the 45 and trashed or gave away most of the rest, if the sentimental value wasn’t too strong.

That little record was the sort of middle ground of their tastes, though neither would have ever fessed up about the soft spot for old pop to the other were it not for finding that old single under Billy’s bed, but from then on they’d spun it in Steve’s old console player more times than anyone should have been able to stand.

Over time, in the storage side of the player, they amass quite the collection of similar albums, more Elton John, ABBA, and god, Billy would never admit this to anyone, but goddamn Bees Gees, both on vinyl and cassette, but Don’t Go Breaking My Heart/Snow Queen forever held a special place in their hearts, and in their music rotation.

Everytime it came on the little battery radio in the kitchen or either slipped it into the player, it was tradition that they’d drop whatever they were doing and sing along with Elton and Kiki.

Just because, the romantic that he was, Steve had decided it was their song.

And honestly, Billy couldn’t argue with that, for obvious reasons the lyrics were special to the both of them, and the song was designed to be insanely catchy anyways, but right now he was busy driving, focusing all his attention on every dark corner of the road ahead. “‘M drivin’ Stevie.”

“Pleeease?” Steve glances between the radio and Billy with those puppy dog eyes of his, and offers a pointless bribe, just to help make his case. “I’ll give you a taffy.”

“Alright, alright.” Billy didn’t care about taffy, in all truthfulness he thought it was disgusting, definitely not a treat worth a minimum six hour drive for, but even watching the road he could see the expectant look in his boyfriends eyes from the passenger seat, so it didn’t take much convincing.

They’d missed the first few lines while they were debating it, so he tells Steve, “You start it then.”

With a smile that made it worth it, he does. He turns the volume up even higher and jumps right in on Kiki Dee’s “You take the weight off of me”

That was the indisputable rule Steve had established the very first time they’d played the record, that he would always sing Kiki’s parts of the song, and Billy Elton’s. Billy still didn’t really know exactly why that was, but he didn’t see a reason to argue.

So he does his line, “Oh honey when you knock on my door” and Steve gives him the biggest smile he can muster, as though he wasn’t expecting him to actually join in, and goes straight into his next with all the more enthusiasm. “Ooh, I gave you my key”

Ooh, nobody knows it

When I was down

I was your clown

Ooh, nobody knows it

Right from the start

I gave you my heart

Oh, I gave you my heart

Billy’s been known to get super into the whole thing, dancing like a goof, using anything he can find as a microphone just to get a rise out of Steve, but there’s a definite lack of that enthusiasm this time around.

It’s not that he doesn’t care about doing things like this like this with Steve, quite frankly, just the fact that they were even to a point in their relationship to have something as cheesy as their own song meant the world to him. He just was feeling, a little off.

So don't go breaking my heart

I won't go breaking your heart

Don't go breaking my heart

Steve definitely catches it, he’s the master at being able to tell when Billy’s not feeling his best. He calculates, and waits until the next break in the song to put his hand on Billy’s thigh. To let him know that the lyrics are directed at him. To remind him of the reason why they ever picked a damned Elton John song to be theirs.

And nobody told us

Because nobody showed us

And now it's up to us babe

Oh, I think we can make it

So don't misunderstand me

You put the light in my life

Oh, you put the spark to the flame

I've got your heart in my sights

It’s like an unspoken conversation, carried out entirely through the touch of Steve’s skin against his, the few seconds of eye contact Billy’s willing to allow before he’s back to watching the road, through the song on the radio that was theirs.

Ooh, nobody knows it

When I was down

I was your clown

Ooh, nobody knows it

Right from the start

I gave you my heart

Oh, I gave you my heart

Ever since being discharged from the hospital, no matter how hard he tried to appreciate being alive and what not, Billy still had moments like these where he was distant, only engaging with part of himself. It made him feel ungrateful, selfish. Like he didn’t deserve it.

Don't go breaking my heart

I won't go breaking your heart

Don't go breaking my heart

Now that he really thought about it, he’s guessing the only reason Steve had even made him drive all the way to Tennessee for a bag of candy they could have just bought at the dollar store was because he knew it was one of those days.

Ooh, nobody knows it

When I was down

I was your clown

Right from the start

I gave you my heart

Oh, I gave you my heart

It’s certainly the reason he’s belting his heart out in the passenger seat of Billy’s car to a lame old pop song, and it’s at least, in some small part, the reason why Billy’s heart feels so full at the sight of it.

Don't go breaking my heart

I won't go breaking your heart

Don't go breaking my

Don't go breaking my

Don't go breaking my heart

Don't go breaking my

Don't go breaking my

I won't go breaking your heart

Don't go breaking my heart

Don't go breaking my

I won't go breaking your heart

Don't go breaking my heart

Don't go breaking my

The song fades out before it’s over, the last few lines of the chorus cut off by a dj on a time schedule, but they finish it anyways, shouting over each other and the next song as it begins to play.

Steve dissolves into a fit of giggles, and Billy’s sure if he wasn’t driving he’d kiss the life out of him right then.

The radio gets turned back down to just background noise, and Steve gets settled back in again. He keeps humming to himself from where he’s settled back against the door in his reclined seat. It’s most likely an unconscious action, he does that a lot when he's drowsy, but it’s successful in keeping the tension out of the car.

At least, Billy doesn’t feel even half as on edge about the estimated three hours still left before they’d be back in Hawkins as he did before.

Because even if it started a little shaky, he was glad to have spent the day with nobody but Steve. No nosy teenaged brats refusing to mind their own business, no bosses calling them into work, no doctors appointments or friends dropping by for unannounced visits.

It was just him and Steve and the open road, and EJ and Kiki Dee, and a little bit of expensive candy, that helped too.

[hoochieblues]

100 Days of Writing: Day 37

Post your favorite line of dialogue that you’ve written recently.

for @the-wip-project 

Uh, well there are a series of smutty electricity-related puns from another prompt fill that’s gotten totally away from me, so ‘Care to ride the lightning, Captain?’ has to be a contender. (Pre-DA2 Anders/Isabela coming soon....)

Otherwise I’m going to say this line from a (very) heavily reworked section in the Feasting on Dreams series, which deals with in-universe speculation on Alistair’s mother, and whether or not Maric was actually a “good” man:

“I don’t know. Even heroes aren’t perfect.” I frowned at the flames, watching sparks soar into the darkness drawing close around us. “Especially heroes, if you think about it. When people build them up, make them into stories, they only want the shiny parts. The bits that reflect all the things they need to believe in, the best of what they want to make real. It’s never the whole truth of anything, though. Maker, nothing really is. Why beat yourself bloody over what you can’t know?”

under the cut - cw: sexual assault mention etc.

I like this line because, in the context of the scene, Alistair and Meri are dissecting the disastrous visit to Goldanna. He’s been brooding for some time over the fact she believes Maric raped their mother, having grown up used to thinking of himself as an accident, a mistake born of a drunken tryst or a woman other boys in the village/monastery/etc. called a whore, but never - sweet summer child - considering that Maric might have assaulted her. He was Maric the Saviour, etc. etc. - a hero and a good man - an impossible ideal for an unwanted bastard and potential embarrassment to live up to.

Meri doesn’t do a great job at comforting him as her first thought is well, yeah... that happens a lot. Shem men do that. Doesn’t matter to her whether Alistair’s mother was elven or human - she was a servant, and it happens. It’s reason #32 on her list of Why Nobles Are Assholes, but her lukewarm condemnation comes across almost like apologism. 

By the end of the scene, both characters have shifted their positions a bit, and the groundwork is laid in to look more at Eamon’s behaviour and motives. Why didn’t he offer a place in the castle to Goldanna too? Why separate the siblings, or send her to Denerim but keep Alistair at Redcliffe, unless it was about control?

Alistair’s left to ponder this, and the question of whether anyone ever does anything without an ulterior motive, while Meri has another brick in her wall of assumptions about humans knocked loose. It leads to some interesting thoughts about injustice, which eventually pays off in beginning to erode the worst of her crippling guilt over Vaughan and the purge his murder caused.

...That’s the plan, anyway. 

[autumnslance]

Rose House Edit for the WIP files please!

WIP Ask Game:  Post the names of files in your WIP folder, regardless of how  non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title  that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell  them something about it! and then tag as many people as you like.  

I’ve maybe realized a chunk of my in progress fics involve people getting it on that I just don’t finish/post for various reasons...A lot of my “Naughty” file fics are really meant more for me to figure out character dynamics, I think

This version is called “Edit” because it’s a draft I mucked with in ProWritingAid for grammar and redundancies way later than I meant to on Monday during maintenance after having @dragons-bones look at the base file. I keep feeling like this fic is “missing” something, but that may be a feature not a bug. Or it needs some pieces for setup and follow up, not to stand alone.

Because “Rose House” is the night in the Sea of Cloud, after Emmanellain’s little misadventure with the Vanu when Bismark’s existence was revealed early in Heavensward. It’s the night Aeryn Regrets because she gave in to emotional turmoil and physical reaction--and then never actually talked to Haurchefant to follow up on how she really felt, or how to otherwise deal with things like adults and then...yeah. Yeah.

Technically it DOES have followup, in “Ache” from the 2020 FFXIV Write, which is Aeryn’s PoV in the immediate aftermath where she realizes she screwed up and this was a Mistake (and also the more recent “Girl Talk” where she tells Lyse what happened). “Rose House” itself, however, is Haurchefant’s PoV of the actual event. If I were going to write this with setup and follow through, it’d be a bit more building up their relationship in Dragonhead and early Ishgard, and then Aeryn avoiding Haurchefant and deflecting Ysayle and Estinien’s teasing/queries (Alphinaud takes a bit to catch on, bless him), and then the fallout of the Vault and how she deals with the Fortemps family afterwards.

But for now, I wrote this to determine how and why things went between them, and while I have a vague idea of the rest, it was deciding “yes this happened” that also determined some things about how her relationship with Thancred ended up working out, and how that was different.

Excerpt under the cut:

---

She seemed so small, but he knew her to be stronger than anyone else in the realm. He could feel it in the steadiness of her heartbeat, the warmth of her form—and the tension in her muscles. He shifted behind her and began rubbing and massaging, trying to work some of that tension from her. She made a tired little grunt.

“You mustn’t strain yourself so,” he said in a low voice. This was a repeated conversation; her next words did not surprise him.

“If I don’t, someone else would have to. They may not be able to bear it. I can.”

“Not forever,” he countered. “Not alone.”

She turned to look at him, grey eyes dark. “There is no one else.” There was pain there, and guilt, and he knew she was thinking of the missing Scions again.

“There’s me.” Feeling bold, Haurchefant brushed his lips over her cheek and left a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. “I shall always be at your side.”

“No, you won’t,” Aeryn replied. “Not so long as Ishgard needs you, and my journeys take me elsewhere.”

The words stabbed his heart, but he could not deny the truth to them. He was sworn to his nation, his house, his god. He had duties, responsibilities.

And yet.

If she asked—if she invited him beyond Coerthas’ borders, to stand at her side through whatever adventures and dangers she faced—

Aeryn turned abruptly, interrupting his thoughts with another kiss of her own—this one full on his mouth, taking him by surprise. He held her close, melting into her embrace, enjoying this sudden expression of affection. She let out a small noise in response to his hands running along her sides to her hips and he shivered to hear it, his grip tightening further. She pressed even closer, and he was aware suddenly that she was in his lap, legs straddling his thighs, and by the Fury, there was no hiding what that was doing to him.

He pulled away from the kiss, clearing his throat. “While I am...more than happy to see such passion from you, my dear, it does put thoughts in my mind.”

“That’s the idea,” she replied, resting her head on his shoulder, lips brushing his neck.

Haurchefant stilled and took a measured breath. He had to tread carefully here, lest he fall through the snow into a hidden ravine. “And if we were to, perhaps, give action to those ideas…?”

Aeryn was quiet for nearly a minute. “Please,” she finally replied.

Gods, he wanted to throw her down that instant. Instead, he kept his stillness, his measured breath. A knight was always in control. “Why?”

She lifted her head and looked at him, perplexed.

“Why now?” He continued, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face. “Believe me, I am more than willing—as you might be able to tell—but...you have always set such boundaries before.”

Aeryn leaned into his touch. “After everything,” she closed her eyes, and he wondered what—or who—she was thinking of. She opened them, and they were as dark as a cloudy night over Dragonhead. “I do not want to have an opportunity and miss it for my own fears. I will have to confront that primal someday, and the bards will make its terrors sound epic. But tonight, I want...simple, safe. You...make me feel safe.”

He drew her closer and kissed her gently as another surge of warmth rushed from his heart. “Very well, my dear. Your wish is my most fervent desire, of course. And should you find it too much, and need to stop—say so, and I shall do naught more than hold you close, or return to mine own chamber, should you command.”

“Haurchefant?”

“Yes?”

“Shh.”

[themerriweathermage]

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Hiya, Nonnie! Honestly I saw this and was really confused until I realized that I was the dumbass who reblogged the Director's Cut post. You sent me five stars?! Of my choosing?!

So I have five series running right now (three are published, two are not.) It would take me way too long to talk about why I wrote each one, so I'm going to pick a set of lines from the published WIPs, most likely from unpublished chapters and give some of my thoughts about it. Under the cut because of a long post.

House Enduring (Celeborn X OC)

“My marriage is annulled and I do not love her in the way you speak of! If Eru has given me another chance to find love again, then why should I reject such a gift!?” Celeborn finally snapped. “Get out!”

Sensitive subject, Elrond thought, unfolding himself from the chaise and trying to check Celeborn over but the ellon in question bared his teeth at the touch, smacking his hand away. “OUT!” Something dangerous sparked in Celeborn’s eyes. He may not have had the strength to pick up a sword and fight, but he was exerting his presence over Elrond, daring the other ellon to challenge him. Celeborn set his jaw, drawing himself to his full height. He still barely met Elrond’s own and Elrond seemed hardly intimidated by the show.

“I am not some whelp of an ellon that I would cower beneath your presence, Celeborn.” Elrond replied.

“You will leave. Or I will make you leave.”

“With what strength? With what power? You have exhausted yourself in the pursuit of healing.” With one fluid movement, Celeborn had picked up Elrond by the collar of his robes and slammed him so hard against the door that it cracked where Elrond’s shoulders made contact with it.

My thoughts on House Enduring...

Why did I choose Celeborn?

He's not particularly popular character and I see even less content of people shipping with him.

But he's married!

Yes, he's married to Galadriel canonically. I mean, technically, even in the beginning of this story, he's married to Galadriel. So why did I choose to annul their marriage rather than just twisting canon so that the relationship never existed? There's a concept that elves can fade to heartbrokenness, that they can simply just wither and die-- so what if after centuries upon centuries of being in a political marriage, Celeborn starts to fade. Does it mean that his soulmate lies elsewhere? Galadriel seems to think so; that's why she lets him go.

Brenior is a shapeshifter? What does that mean? And why did you make the pronouns switch from time to time?

Brenior is a shapeshifter. I went with animals, mythological creatures, and people-- and not people in the sense that he can change into other people he sees, but he can shift his features to look the way he wants to.

So, this brings me back to my own questions. Why do I have multiple pronouns in this story?

Ah, this was a question in my mind that initially made me extremely nervous about posting House Enduring. Brenior identifies as male. He would be what is considered AFAB (assigned female at birth). Does he have multiple forms, including a female form? Absolutely. Does that mean he is not male? Absolutely not. For purposes of the story, I intentionally point out she/her for female forms. That being said, Brenior is comfortable with she/her, they/them pronouns, but prefers he/him pronouns. I am not trying to invalidate anyone's experiences in this story; I am trying to explore myself. If it is offensive to you, I encourage you not to read it. This story may have a plot that is fantasy and be set in a world beyond our own, but I based Brenior on me, my traumas, my past... and paths what could be my future.

Beauty in Brokenness (Glorfindel X Reader)

He recognized the signs on you. Arda has become the home to many wayfaring strangers and you were not the first. You’re just now realizing the bleakness of the situation you were in. You’ll be the first one to survive longer than the other humans. You’ll be the first to survive longer than humans borne and raised here. Valar knows, you might even outlive the race of elves. You looked so torn, and there was no way that you weren’t mourning the loss of everything you’ve ever had, and for once, Elrond looked at you and even saw the same twinge of darkness that had frightened you so badly. Your path was unset; only you had the power to set it.

My thoughts on Beauty in Brokenness...

Reader is in a courtship with Glorfindel. What happens next?

A lot of things happen next, but the path of healing must be the first thing. After that, I'm considering merging some modern human ideas with Elvish culture. Also this is set during the timeline of The Hobbit so there will at least be a little bit of leeway and peace in between the two timelines.

Reader is immortal?

Reader is immortal! Reader does have the chance to outlive the race of elves. Interestingly enough, I have a feeling that Valinor will eventually be a question for Glorfindel and I think... I think it's likely he'll raise hell if Reader can't sail with him.

My Loyal One (Rewrite) Lindir X OFC

“Do you have other family, elven-kin?” Lindir asked, curious about Eryniel. He’d only ever seen her in passing, delivering messages to Erestor or to Lord Elrond, never actually meeting her himself.

“I do. I have three brothers.” Eryniel replied, sitting back on her heels for a moment, considering the family she had left behind in Lorien.

“I suppose they chose to sail as well?”

“No. They are part of the Galadhrim. They stayed behind to fight. And they cannot care for a mortal, I don’t think. I know now that my parents’ decision was to leave me in the House of Elrond, although I think I would have preferred knowing that decision myself.”

“Elrond has been like a father to many.” Lindir murmured, although he certainly did not agree with the decision that her parents had made. How cruel.

My thoughts on My Loyal One...

Why are you rewriting it?

Simply? Because it has way more detail than an X Reader fic should have. Because I want to include way more detail than would be appropriate for an X Reader fic.

Eryniel?

Means daughter of the woods. The root will probably seem familiar-- Eryn Galen, Eryn Lasgalen, etc.

Are you really changing that much detail in the rewrite?

Immensely so. I'm not just changing it from second person to third person. I'm adding in details, smoothing out scenes, solidifying the brother/sister relationship between Haldir and Eryniel, and revealing the internal struggle within Haldir as he wars with telling her the full truth right out the gate.

[isanyonetoknow]

[ID: black screen with a vulture on the right. It is looking to the left at a block of text. The header of the text says “Writeblr (re)Introduction” and the text underneath says “aka @isanyonetoknow has been here for a while and realized they never actually made a writeblr intro. oops.” End ID]

*waves* hello! so it turns out that i apparently? didn’t do a writeblr intro? at least, if i did, i can’t find it. so here is mine + a bit of a wip/writeblr search, because it has come to my attention that there’s not enough content on my dash.

who am i:

absolutely not a vulture posing as a human

like come on. where on earth would you get that idea. 

anyways i’m not a vulture. obviously. and you can call me ash. 

they/them pronouns please and thank you

i mainly write + draw on here, content wise

from time to time i’ll put out a post asking if anyone has something they want me to draw, like an animal. you’re free to send these recs anytime as long as they are safe for work/not outrageous/not you being entitled to my time. you know, basic things like that.

i also post thoughts into the void, as you do. 

what am i looking for:

fantasy (low/high/urban, it doesn’t really matter) ; scifi ; heist-esque ; containing crime families ; containing revolutions/rebellions ; containing road trips or people on the run

found!!! family!!!!

preferably minimal to no romance

SFW

character driven / character-centric

oh yeah and preferably a happy ending or at least, things aren’t as awful and terrible at the end. 

if your WIP has any or several of these, then i’m probably going to be interested. if not, let me know of your WIPs anyways, because i’m interested in learning about more WIPs!!! (i only ask that you only let me know about SFW/not overly filled with romance WIPs, though. i’m not comfortable with a lot of romance or things that are NSFW)

and of course, i have to plug in my own stuff, so under the cut, i’m going to talk about the WIPs i talk about on here.

the WIPs you can find on here are To Win A Prince, The Prison, Narrations, In the Name of a Capitalized Lord, and This Time Around. 

To Win A Prince | intro

After receiving three ridiculous tasks from the king, ex-Knight Aurelius Lijne embarks out on a journey to accomplish them so that they can finally marry their best friend, the crown prince, in peace.

Along the way, they’re saddled with people from all forms of life–from the bard who’s only here for his finals to the elf who might be a spy but is definitely a convict and fugitive to the Fae who’s spent more years among cowboys than their own kind.

Then again, what did Aurelius expect, when one of their tasks involved stealing the Dark Lord’s shoes of all things? 

fantasy + found family + a road trip essentially + forgiving (yourself) + healing + prying the teeth of the past from you because you can’t live there anymore, you can’t, that land only exists as long as you let it, it only exists as the teeth and the memory of pain. 

The Prison | intro

A traumatized teenager, the magic that they’re a vessel for, and the human experiment they rescued along the way journey together to save the last remaining sources of magic, while trying to avoid their tumultuous pasts.

found family + magic + mystery + some things you can’t get over and some things you shouldn’t get over and some things you’ll get over regardless of if you should or can because getting over it is the only way to live

Narrations:

One: a rebellion in a city that’s been stretching on for years; magic churning when before, it had been barely stirring; we finally figure out where the missing go. 

Two: people fall in between the cracks, and it hasn’t been a problem, except that the cracks have been growing larger and larger with each passing day. 

Three: the story is never what it looks like. no one knows where the truth ends and the lies begin. 

Four: a conversation between two prisoners, and their subsequent escape. 

aka four interconnected parts that span worlds. intro(s) + more details coming soon. 

found family + magic + space + time/dimension/reality travel + corrupt governments/agencies + revolution + possible apocalypse but not in the way that you think + fighting apathy and the desire to watch the worlds that failed you crash and burn because there are people worth saving 

In the Name of a Capitalized Lord:

Sasha has been wandering between lorddoms for almost as long as they could remember. And if there was anything they had learned, it was to never try and gain entrance to the walled lorddoms. The walled ones always had something to hide, something to protect, or something to fight against, and none of those was what Sasha, who always wished for a simple life, wanted. However, when hunger and fatigue grow too great, they try to gain admittance into a walled lorddom. And they get in. 

And they can't seem to leave. 

So they’re stuck in this walled lorddom, avoiding the lord that absolutely no one wants them to encounter, without anyone ever telling them why. 

It looks like they have to do all the work themself. 

mystery + historical fiction-esque + family dynamics + found family (literally) + mending relationships + sometimes it’s so much better to think that no one’s there watching and sometimes it’s so much worse

This Time Around

The one time Aleksei Aband tried to be of help, they got kidnapped and thrown on a pirate ship. The one time Hiro Kumagai tried to make his life interesting, he almost got killed, and then kidnapped, along with the resident “Kid You Stay the Hell Away From”, by pirates. 

Well. 

At least he did make his life interesting. 

pirates + curses + found family + healing + redemption + you shouldn’t have to owe your family for taking care of you or for being existent but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel that way and that doesn’t mean you don’t feel guilty every time you think you’ve let them down. 

[yangsrose]

Blurbs of my WIPS

The order of these are not the order of them being released, but rather in a random order

if you would like to be added to the tag list for any of these please send an ask or reply to this post!!

WIP #1: Xiaojun Fic (heavily based off of the book "Son" by Lois Lowry)

Water. That’s all you felt around you. Water sloshing up and taking over every little part of you, leaving little to no air for you to breathe. You slowly felt your body get submerged by the harsh waves, and before you knew it, you were sucked into the black abyss. You closed your eyes to stop the harsh stings of the salt water, feeling a peaceful spirit come over you as you sunk deeper and deeper into the water.

The next thing you felt was a burning sensation in your lungs. Wanting to get rid of the water that was forcing its way up, you coughed out the cold, bitter liquid that was congesting your lungs. A pair of sweet, warm lips met yours, serving as a contrast to the sea water, and you felt air being forcefully pushed into your airways. You opened your eyes and blurrily saw a man towering over you, his small yet muscular frame hovering over you in worry. You closed your eyes once again, feeling tired from the effort put into taking out the water in your lungs and once again sunk into the familiar black abyss.

WIP #2: Ten FBI AU (based off of this time stamp)

Ten’s job was fairly easy. Or so he liked to believe that. I mean, all he did was just sit in front of a computer and monitor people as they surfed the internet on a daily basis, and make sure that they didn’t do anything suspicious or out of the ordinary. Since he was one of the newer recruits, he was scheduled to look over the more innocent people such as the ones who never searched up anything bad or out of the ordinary. His daily searches consisted of “how to bake a cake” or "how to make a necklace". Innocent stuff as these topics whizzed by his computer screen daily, leading for an easy job on his end. That however, changed when he got assigned to you.

Your searches weren’t… bad or anything, they were just more on the questionable side. In the beginning, your searches were always definitions to words, or just memes that you didn’t remember to save but really needed to send to a friend since you thought it was appropriate. For example, once you searched up “chicken with a knife meme”. Since your search included the word “knife”, Ten was alerted of it, but he dismissed it, not taking the search seriously since he too had that same meme saved as a contact picture for one of his friends.

It wasn’t until your searches became a bit more... progressive for a lack of better terms that Ten began to grow worried. Your searches started pretty innocently, such as “How to erase fingerprints from a surface” and he just suspected that you accidentally got fingerprints on a laptop screen and just wanted to erase them. But after a while, you began searching up things like “acids to get rid of blood stains” and “blunt surfaces that can cause a head trauma.” That caused him to become concerned. He began to monitor your searches more closely, and it wasn’t until recently one day when you searched something extremely concerning that he realised that you were someone that required to be monitored at all times.

Ten called for his boss, showing him the most recent search on your end. “Non-lethal stab wounds'' popped up on the bright screen, and Ten looked back at his boss to see a mirror expression of wide eyes looking back at him.

“I think we have to send you undercover.” Ten’s boss said. He simply nodded and got up from his seat, walking over to his apartment to get everything ready for his mission.

WIP #3: YangYang Zombie Apocalypse AU

"Wait wait wait don't shoot I'm a human I promise!" the young boy held up his hands and walked out from behind the wall the he was using as his hiding place. You refused to lower your weapon down, not wanting to let your guard down out of a fear of being tricked into your own death. You made eye contact with him and felt your hands shake, fearing that the worst might come to you.

As he walked closer, you realised that he was in fact who he claimed to be, the light tan colour of his skin glowing under the moonlight. You felt the gun drop from your hands and your body seemed to work on its own, causing you to run up to him and do the unthinkable.

You kissed him right on his lips.

WIP #4: Kun Astronaut AU

Being one of the only female biomedical engineers in NASA led to some pretty beneficial aspects of your workspace. For example, you were never asked to stay longer than an hour before sunset, out of a fear that you wouldn't be able to reach home safely. The only downside was the fact that you were the smallest one on the team, which put you in some... well, for a lack of better terms, unfortunate circumstances.

If anyone asked you how you ended up face to face in a underwater lab with your workplace crush, you would not be able to tell them why you were in this situation, but what you could tell them was that even after working strenuously underwater for the past 48 hours, Qian Kun still had the softest skin known to mankind.

WIP#5: YangYang Racer AU

why did this take so long to find an except that actually made sense😭

“You'll love YangYang trust me. He’s a first year just like you, and he’s single” Hendery said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Why does that matter.” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the older boy’s antics.

“Just saying.” Hendery said, shrugging his shoulders. You sighed and shook your head, being hit with the smell of freshly roasted coffee as soon as you entered the cafe. Hendery looked around and spotted his roommate, whose back was currently faced towards the both of you. Hendery walked up to him and tapped his shoulder, causing the male to turn around. As you made eye contact with him, you felt your breath hitched up in your throat.

The boy in front of you was absolutely ethereal.

His dark brown hair swept over his forehead, parting a little in the middle. HIs wide eyes scanned over the both of you, scrunching up as his gummy smile overtook his face, standing up to greet you. He was absolutely adorable, resembling a small puppy or sheep with his fluffy hair flopping over his eyes. Hendery noticed your state and smiled before muttering a soft “whipped” under his breath before introducing him to you.

“This is my roommate YangYang. He’s studying automotive engineering as well but secretly he wants to be a formula one racer- OW why are you hitting me? That’s the truth, right?”

“No one’s supposed to know that!” the younger male gritted through his teeth, sending Hendery a fiery glare.

“Sorry about him, Hendery has trouble keeping his mouth shut.” YangYang said, glaring at Hendery in the process.

“I’m y/n.” You muttered, feeling shy all of a sudden. YangYang beamed and stuck his hand out to you to shake, which you took gratefully. You felt your hands get clammy at the thought of holding hands with him, and you felt as if you were stuck in some sort of a trance as you shook his hand.

“Okay love birds you both can hold each others hands at the table let’s get going come on now.” Hendery walked towards the table while turning back to smirk at the both of you. You and YangYang let go of each other's hands and followed Hendery to the table, feeling your faces grow warm at his comment. You gritted your teeth and walked over to the table, silently vowing to never let him use your notes the next time he asked for them.

WIP #6: YangYang Haunted House AU

"YangYang I swear if you try to scare me one more time I will leave you here all alone and I don't care if you're the only way that I can get out of here."

"Uhh y/n? That wasn't me. I'm over here." YangYang said, appearing from the small passageway that was in front of you.

"Wait. If you didn't tap my shoulder, then who did?" you asked, feeling the hair on the back of your neck raise. You turned around and found yourself face to face with a bloodied man holding a pickaxe who was currently swinging it uncomfortably close to you. You felt a scream rise up on your throat and you screamed while grabbing YangYang's arm, using all the strength in your body to pull him along with you. YangYang soon began running faster than you, and he started pulling you after him through the numerous twists and turns.

"Next time you ask me to go anywhere with you I'm saying no" you said, venom seeping through your voice along with deep gasps for air.

"Agreed" YangYang said, regretting every action that led up to his decision.

WIP #6: YangYang Gamer AU

"So you're saying you've never played a single game in your life."

"Do coolmath games count? Because if so I am a beast at fire boy and water girl." you said, your eyes lighting up at the fond memories of playing that game. YangYang sighed and rubbed his temples, feeling stressed at the fact that there was a lot more than he expected to have to teach you.

"Okay how about this. You, me, tomorrow after school in my dorms to learn how to play games because there is no way that I am letting my best friend go their entire life without knowing how to play anything other than coolmath games."

WIP #7: Sungchan Spider-Man AU

"You're Spider-Man. The one who was just on the news." you said, feeling your heart rate accelerate.

"No? What are you talking about? I think you had too much caffeine and too little sleep let's get you to bed now." Sungchan said, maneuvering you over to the door.

"Sungchan, I just saw you crawling on the ceiling and you just shot a web out of your wrist. I even pinched myself so I know for a fact that this was not a hallucination." you said, your speech accelerating with every word. Sungchan sighed and tried to look for a way to cover up his odd behaviour, but in the end opted against it when he realised he was still wearing his suit.

"Please tell no one." he pleaded, turning around to face you with the biggest puppy eyes.

"So it is true" you whispered, your eyes growing wide at the revelation. The last thing you remember was seeing Sungchan's panicked eyes as he lunged forward to catch you before darkness enveloped you.

WIP #8: Johnny Secret Agent AU

"What do you mean run?" you asked, turning to face your partner.

"I may or may not have accidentally set off a bomb timer somewhere around here and if we do not book it out of here in the next two minutes we are going to be like the toast that you had this morning."

"Hey! Just because I like my toast slightly burned does not mean that you can make fun of it."

"You call that slightly burnt? The whole bread was a different colour and the house smelled like smoke." you scoffed and rolled your eyes before turning away from Johnny, wondering why the both of you were still here.

"What's taking Mark so long?"

"Listen here Mark if I die I will haunt you in my sleep please find a way to get us out of here." Johnny said, speaking into the in ear that was directly connected to your "man in the chair" back at the headquarters. You heard frantic typing as Mark tried to find a way out of the room, but as every second passed, it was apparent to you that you and Johnny were one second closer to your great demise. Thinking quickly, you grabbed Johnny's hand and ran out of the room, hearing Mark's voice as he directed you throughout the area, leading you two to safety only a few mere seconds before the bomb went off.

WIP #9: WayV Social Media AU

You think your roommate is going to take you out sometime soon, but you don't know whether it's with a knife or on a date.