#these two are actually some of my furthest along WIPs

[biromanticbookbabe]

I’m in editing mode today again. I’m reading some of my old drafts to see if they’re salvageable. It’s been a while since I’ve been in these worlds but it’s like traveling so it’s kind of fun. 

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Untitled Fantasy Wip Ch.2

What it says in the title, this is a rough draft for a piece I'm working on. I already know that there will be things changed in the final piece but I'm hoping putting a little of it into the world will be enough to motivate me to keep working.

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Chapter 2

Discord is actually up well before dawn. If the new high spirit is so dangerous he did not want to risk his name being known, and spent the early morning sealing it away behind wards of his own. A paranoid practice perhaps, but one does not become a Witch because they have a healthy relationship with boundaries or magic. He hides his name, charms his clothes against the cold, and then steps out of the house. He starts with the wards around the clearing. This is all tedious work, but not difficult work. It's a matter of feeling along the connection to the land and air that surrounds this section of the forest, how each of those little tendrils keeps the strangeness of the spirits and monsters inside and away from the thin trail that splits it in half. It's thirty miles of forest to tend to. Not insurmountable, a full day of travel to go to the farthest edge, but he will have to do it before the snow comes and makes it more difficult. He secures the eight wards around the house. Those are simple and he needs to have somewhere he is sure is safe before he starts to venture further out. Then he goes back inside. The house has been enchanted thoroughly by previous tenants, the kitchen spelled to always provide, the bath upstairs always full of hot clean water, the hearth never dies, the oil in the lanterns never runs out. 

He packs enough rations for the day as well as a generous portion of salt, figs, and two wrapped, raw pheasants. Hopes he won't need more than that today. Then he exits the house again and starts to make his way in the direction of the furthest wards from the house. It will be a full day, probably a little into tomorrow as well, but he will take a day of rest if he can make it all the way out and reinforce those wards well before the first snow. 

Discord has only been walking for an hour before he smells lilies again. He pauses this time, waiting. The nymph steps out from behind a tree with a wide grin. 

"Will you talk to me now?" 

"Are you going to say something interesting?" He counters lazily. She looks beside herself with her joy. Can't step onto the path he's following, but just like yesterday, gets as close as she can and moves parallel to it. 

"I'm Thylia, what's your name Scholar?" 

"I can't introduce myself to you before meeting the new High Spirit," he tells her. Based on the slight sharpening of her eyes, she's well aware of that fact. "I'm also not a Scholar." He adds absent-mindedly. 

"What are you then? You don't smell like a Druid." 

"Witch." 

"That's just a Scholar who doesn't like books." He hums, a simplistic explanation, but he's not going to start a debate on the arcane arts with a nymph. "Do you have offerings?" 

"I do." 

"Vigil was stingy on his way out, are you going to be more generous?" 

"Not until after I've met the High Spirit." 

She whines. "Ugh, if you want to see him so badly I can show you his cave, but he's not gonna like you." 

"He doesn't need to like me." But he actually pauses and gives her his full attention. Getting to the furthest wards is important, but establishing some kind of communication with the High Spirit is equally so. If only so he can know for absolutely certain how badly he will be screwed if he fails. "Alright, you can escort me safely to his lodgings and I will leave you something at your tree after my business with him is finished." 

She brightens considerably. "Deal!" Thylia takes a sharp turn and Discord takes a slow breath before he steps off of the path. The cutting above the hearth should keep him safe, but he can't shake the little thread of wariness as he leaves the relative safety of the reinforced wards along the paths. If he has time, if he finishes with all of the others before the snow comes too heavily or if it melts early enough in Spring before his contract has ended, he'll make a new set and path going to the High Spirit's dwelling. If only to make things a little easier for whoever ends up assigned this station after him. 

Thylia chatters as they walk. She points out other sections of the woods where dryads and other nymphs live, tells him that there were elder awakened trees who called a section of the forest home, but who have decided to settle into a long sleep with Caterel gone. There are other monsters too. Large beasts, wild animals, displaced spirits of travelers who never made it out of the woods despite the wards. Things he would expect from a place steeped in so much magic. 

It takes the better part of two hours for them to slowly break away from thick trees and underbrush to what appears to be a rock quarry that spills out into jagged stony hills. She can't go much further once his feet move from grass to dirt and rock and she lingers at the edge, "Follow the trail and you'll find the entrance." She tells him. 

The trail isn't a path as such. It is scattered belongings. A broken pocket watch here, a scrap of torn fabric there, he's already more than on edge by the time he starts to see the fragments of bone. It becomes more than fragments as he sees the looming entrance of the cave, each picked clean and discarded. He stops a few feet from the dark entrance and steels his nerves. This is not the first hostile spirit he has encountered. 

"High Spirit, I have come to seek an audience as the new Order Bringer of the Valchill Woods." There's a long pause and then a frigid wind comes from inside of the cave. He doesn't hear the creature move, but after a moment he emerges from the shadows. 

The spirit, he can immediately see, is likely some form of ascended ghoul. He is far too solid to simply be a ghost. His aspect is also apparent in each line of him. They stand at the same height but his skin is truly the pallor of death, tinged with blackened frost-bitten skin around his eyes, across his cracked lips, along his long fingers and creeping up his arms. His hair is long and wavy, hanging to his collarbone in messy layers, white as fresh snow. His build is more solid than his own, muscle corded along his arms, across his chest and stomach, exposed save for a tattered woolen cloak clasped around his neck in a deep indigo. Dark trousers over his lower half, feet bare and equally frost-bitten. His irises shine silver as they roll over him, taking him in as much as he is doing for the other. The spirit is ethereal, beautiful as all spirits are, but there is something monstrous in the damaged frost-bitten skin that speaks of what he was before he became this. 

"Your audience has been granted, Order Bringer." He speaks and the air goes colder, speaks and Discord can see two rows of sharp white teeth behind his frost-bitten lips. His voice is flat and uninterested. 

He bows slightly. "Thank you. I have brought you several offerings--" he starts to reach for his bag, for the pheasants and figs. 

The spirit sneers at him, all sharp fangs on display. "I do not accept." 

He blinks, pausing and turning his attention fully back to the spirit. "I don't understand." 

The spirit's eyes drag over him assessingly. "I do not accept offerings." 

"What do you mean? You have to--" 

"No, I don't." He waits but Discord fails to find his words. "I am the Grasp of the Frozen Death, High Spirit of the Valchill Woods, and I accept no offerings from you nor any other Order Bringer who pollutes my domain." 

"If you don't accept then I can't make offerings to any other spirits within the woods." 

Grasp of the Frozen Death smiles, a slow, cruel thing that looks painful on his cracked lips. "I am well aware of that, Witch." 

Discord's temper spikes. "How long has it been since you ascended? You can't refuse offerings. If you don't accept then the lesser creatures bound to the land will starve--" 

"Yes." 

He is nearly gaping at the creature. "You are the High Spirit of the woods! It's your responsibility to care for the others bound to serve you." 

Discord realizes his misstep a split second too late as he's suddenly standing nearly nose-to-nose with the spirit. Didn't even see him move he did it so fast, and the air around him is so frigid that his breath escapes him in a cloud of white. So cold that the heating charms on his clothes feel like they're shuddering from the force of the raw elemental magic coming off of him. "I am the High Spirit and I will care for my charges in the way I see fit. Famine is a hardship that they will endure at my command. You will not change this, Order Bringer." He hisses the title like a slur. His breath smells like blood and snow. Silver eyes drag over him again. "I cannot kill you while you are bound here, but make no mistake, Witch, I can certainly make you suffer should you forget your place." 

He sneers back at the spirit, grabs a handful of salt and throws it into the scant inches between them. It hits the spirit's flesh and immediately begins to hiss and sizzle with fresh burns. Grasp glances at the burns, takes a step back and brushes the salt away from his skin like it's nothing. It practically is nothing to a spirit as powerful as him, but it made his point very clearly. He may not be able to use his magic against him for as long as he's bound here as Order Bringer, but he is just as capable of causing other slights and harm as the spirit is threatening. 

"I leave this offering," he snarls, taking the pheasants and three figs from his bag and placing them on a stone large enough to act as a table. "As the new Order Bringer of the woods. May we keep balance between the world of man and world of spirits." 

Grasp considers the offering, considers him. And then he takes another step closer, reaches for one of the pheasants. His movements are slow and deliberate as he wraps four fingers around its breast, his index finger held deliberately aloft. And then that finger drops too. The reaction is instantaneous, frostbite seeps out across the bird, turns the meat and flesh as black as the skin across his hands, freezes it so solid that Discord hears it crack with the cold. And then the High Spirit tightens his grip and the frozen body shatters into a million little shards of desecrated meat. "I do not accept this offering, as High Spirit of the woods. May you find no balance or respite in the world of spirits or man." If he wasn't bound, Discord is fairly certain he would have been cursed. 

"If you don't eat, the forest will die." The Valchill Woods are old, centuries old, teeming with raw, natural magic only found in a handful of other regions across the continent. The death of this forest would devastate the natural order. 

"I will eat." The spirit says, deadly hand wrapping around each of the other offered items and destroying them with the same easy touch. "But I will not be fed, Witch." He turns and starts to move back into his cave. "What false title am I to call you?" 

He grits his teeth. "Discord." 

"Aptly chosen for what you will bring to this land." And then he's lost in the dark shadows of the cave and he is left, fuming and confused outside of it. Doesn't dare call the other creature back. 

///

He follows along the path back to the edge of the woods where Thylia is still waiting, but she's laying facedown over a shrub now. 

"He didn't accept it." 

"How long has he been starving you?" Her, the other pixies, dryads, nymphs, and awakened greenery. 

"Since Caterel died, two moons now." 

Full moons, he imagines, two months of this. Two months. He's shocked she even has the energy to leave her tree at this point. "Why is he starving himself?" 

"I don't know, he's never been chatty." She sits up, pouting. He reaches into his pack and gives her a fig. It won't fill her stomach, not while the High Spirit is abstaining from food, but it will taste good and he made a promise. "Thanks," but her voice isn't as bright as it was before. Knows as well as he does that this isn't going to make her feel any better. "Vigil thought he was grieving, let it go on a whole cycle before he sent for you, but Grasp didn't even like Caterel." 

He rakes a hand through his hair, looking back out at the quarry. He's never met a High Spirit that would choose to starve their subjects. "I need to reinforce the wards throughout the forest." He tells her, "but I will make a point of bringing new offerings every day. I can't force him to eat, though." She grumbles something in a language he can't understand, but she doesn't really protest that. There's nothing she can do about it either. She is bound to the will of the High Spirit. Unless, "Why has no one challenged him?" 

Thylia winces. "No one wants to challenge him. We like Grasp." 

"He's been starving you for two months." 

"We like him." She insists stubbornly. "He has a reason. He's strong. We can endure until he chooses to share it." A disturbing level of loyalty really, but he's not in any position to try and convince her otherwise. He doubts she would even be able to challenge him in her current state. Doesn't know if a nymph could be a good match against something that was once a ghoul, let alone with a rot powerful enough to destroy anything he touches. 

He sighs, gives her a second fig and then starts back towards the path he was supposed to be taking. "You didn't introduce yourself!" She calls after him. 

"Discord," he tells her over his shoulder, but he keeps going. He still has a lot to do today, long distances to travel, and will need to be rested enough to make it back here again tomorrow with a fresh offering. He takes a breath. The wards are his primary responsibility. He needs to ensure safe travel through the woods. If the High Spirit wants to assist in that by killing his charges that is technically not his problem. He will still be paid one way or the other. But there is something deeply uncomfortable about the idea of the Valchill woods dying on his watch. 

As Discord continues on his way towards the furthest reach of the wards, he finds himself wracking his brain for any offerings that he thinks might be more tempting for a winter spirit.

///

He ends up getting back to the house barely two hours before dawn, kicks off his boots, barely manages to shuck his clothes, and get into his sleep stuff before he's face down on his bed and gone with the pull of sleep. 

Discord doesn't wake until well into the following afternoon and when he's finally up again he's immediately starting towards the kitchen. Raw pheasant and figs wasn't good enough so maybe something else, something warm, maybe? Winter spirits are always cold. Maybe something warm would be more tempting. He spends two hours making stew. It's been a long time since he's had a kitchen at his disposal, longer still since he was in a position to have access to any ingredient he could want with barely the whisper of the thought on the edge of his mind before the enchantments inside make it appear. So he certainly isn't begrudging the time it takes to make the pot. It fills his temporary abode with the smell of a home he hasn't known, hasn't even thought fondly of, in a decade. When it's finished he packs some for travel, charms the bowl and cover to the Sanguine Lake and back to make sure that it stays hot, and goes to get his boots and cloak back on. 

The sun is long set by the time he starts on his way back to the quarry. He doesn't pay it any mind, it's a matter of seconds and a negligible amount of magic to produce a globule of pale blue light to guide his way. He can hear other creatures moving through the trees, but none stray into his space as he goes. It's an hour walk to his destination and when he arrives he sets the bowl back on the stones and calls into the cave, 

"An offering for the High Spirit," before he turns to go. Would like to go back home and have his own meal before settling in for the night because tomorrow will be an early day again, another long one as he finishes the far wards on the other side of the woods. 

"I do not accept it." 

He startles slightly, glancing up. Grasp is on top of the jagged hills, makes his way down with a few practiced jumps that barely shift the air enough to make sound as he lands back on the path with him. Discord rolls his eyes. "Indulge me. You may change your mind." 

"I won't." 

"Is there a particular reason you're starving yourself or are you just being an asshole?" 

Grasp snorts a little which is a more merciful reaction than he'd really expected. "Would it matter either way? You've made your offering, you're not obligated to do anything else, Witch." 

"Would help me explain why the whole forest died unexpectedly when I leave this post." 

The spirit considers that with a slight tilt of his head. Discord tries to not shiver. He doesn't know if the spirit is chilling the air on purpose, but it's suddenly cold enough he's longing for his gloves and heavier cloak. "And how long will you be at this post?" 

"Through winter," he replies carefully. "I can recommend a Druid for the next Order Bringer if you would prefer that." 

"I don't care what magic you or any other Order Bringer practices, none of you are welcome within my woods." 

The little globe of blue light pulses and crackles slightly with his agitation. "An awakened forest has to have an Order Bringer, even if you starve the entire forest to death, a new one will come to watch over the corpse." 

Grasp clicks his tongue derisively, reaches for the bowl of soup and picks it up in a careful four fingered grip. "You cooked?" 

"Would be more than happy to bring you things like that," rather than the more traditional offerings of raw meats and fruit, "if you'll eat them." 

But Grasp is putting the bowl back in his hands. "You can bring me whatever you like, Witch. I won't accept any of it. Now shoo, I'm sure you have better things to do than bother me." The spirit steps out of his space and starts to move back towards his lair, the charms broke as soon as he laid hands on the offering, and the warmth is slowly being leeched out by the cold night air as Discord watches him disappear back into the shadows. 

He goes back home, ladles out a fresh portion of stew for himself, returns the cold bowl to the pot and places it into the pantry spelled to preserve all of its contents in a timeless bubble. It's been a long time since he's made this. It tastes exactly how he remembers it. Just the first few bites has his stomach heavy and warm. Can't fight off the rolling sickness of the nostalgia though and he only manages a few more bites before he has to stop. Doesn't know if he'll be able to eat any more of it. He finds the little shelf hanging near the spice rack, a collection of hand-bound books, messy uneven pages all written on different scraps of paper and in different handwritings, and starts to flip through. Recipes left behind by the other Order Bringers who lived here before. Food that he can make without being mired in memories. He still has at least three more days of the far wards to reach. He'll bring traditional offerings until he's finished, until he can dedicate more time to this kind. 

He finishes his meal, turns in. Five and a half weeks until the winter solstice. The first solstice since the forest took a new High Spirit. Grasp of the Frozen Death will become one with the land completely then. If he hasn't eaten by then the reaction could be immediate. The forest will already be weak and dormant from the cold, that connection solidifying could kill all of the younger spirits, will absolutely kill the smaller trees and plants. That surge will also be the moment where the wards will fully lock in on him too, will ensure that his influence is bound only within the bubble they create around the roads. If he is bound and determined to kill the woods then making sure the wards are solid is the most important thing he can do. 

It still takes him a long time before he manages to fall asleep. 

[tnc-n3cl]

fic stats meme

Rules: Give us the links to your fics with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and your fic with the least amount of words.

Thanks for the tag @unmaskedcardinal!

Most hits: The Amnesiac Hero's Quest, Rated T, It's the only complete segment of The Realm Walker that I have at the moment. Covers Link's POV from when he jumps off the Great Plateau to just after he frees Vah Ruta in a BotW AU where the Champions were possessed rather than killed. And he's got a friend, a mysterious magic wolf he calls Ada, helping him out. (Second to last chapter is guest starring Sidon's POV mostly...) I like to call it TAHQ for short.

Second most kudos: Link's Story: Finding Hateno Village, Rated T. Basically this is a rough draft of TAHQ, which covers what became the end of chapter 1 of TAHQ to around chapter 4. Originally I wasn't going to do a full Link POV story segment and instead just do this one and freeing the Divine Beasts. However, two things happened, one there was a fourth wall breaking moment in the story that I liked and decided to actually convert into a plot element (the Link hears voices thing in TAHQ's summary), and I actually tried retracing my steps in this story in BotW and quickly realized you couldn't do it in the time frame I wrote. So my need to be as accurate as possible kicked in and I expanded it into a full story and am glad I did it.

Third most comments: This gets a bit tricky... Shifting Tides of Fate, (Rated M) is the only story I've posted on AO3 that has any comments and half of them are me replying to the commenter. However, I have cross posted things on Deviant Art (as well as posted a story that I haven't put up on ao3 cause I'm planing on doing some major edits before rereleasing it.) Although, each chapter is it's own submission rather than one continuous work. If I go by this metric then it's Chapter 4 of The Ballad of Kass.

Fourth most bookmarks: The Ballad of Kass, Rated M. This fic has in a way become the backbone of The Realm Walker as it's probably the furthest along in the story and pretty much every thing else has synced up with it in so I'm taking a lot of care to time things out and what not. This story covers Kass' journey from when he sets out from Washa's Bluff to look for Link (though he won't wake up for a week or so at this point), Kass' sister Kalia had come to Hyrule from their hometown of Takandi Village (located outside of Hyrule directly west of Dragon Bone Mire) to visit him and his daughters and decided to follow him around.

Fifth most words: As I only have four works on AO3, I can't do this one really... Dipping into my unposted WIP's I can pretty safely say my story with the 5th most words is an untitled spinoff of The Ballad of Kass. I was going to give Kalia's consort Virli her own chapter (or two) but decided to break it into it's own side story. Takes place around the time of the most recently posted chapters of TBoK, Virli has to deal with a crisis in the Wildlands separating Rito territory from the massive Bahreyo (Bah-reoh) Alliance (a group of five nations to Hyrule's northwest). Will be rated M, big action scenes, will continue up until a certain unwritten part of TBoK where Kalia and Virli reunite.

Least words: Link's Story: Finding Hateno Village, outside of it, all my stuff is longfic. However, once I get to the point all the Champions are free, I'm planning on covering all the extra things I want to do as little short stories until the big battle with Ganon.

No pressure tags: @coconi, @ghirahimbo, @grooviestsadpapaya

[skinsharpenedteeth]

WIP Wednesday!

Okay, doing something a little different. I’m going to share a little bit from the three big WIPs I’m working on right now. Also, this Friday/Saturday is the next chapter update for AWT for keep your eyes trained!

There’s Only One Bed and Oh, Can We Explore the Area Between Tortured Lust and ‘Sup, Bro?’ With Our Dicks?

       “You’re going to smell like an old man all night with this stuff,” Michael commented before rubbing it between his hands to warm it up slightly and then starting to spread it on the leg furthest from him. Michael let his fingers start slowly pressing into the muscle under his hands, sliding up and slightly under the leg of Alex’s boxers. He drew back and pressed forward again, using slightly more pressure, and when Alex let out a contented hum, he knew he’d found the right amount. Michael slowly and methodically worked his way up and down the back of Alex’s legs. He tried not to concentrate on the sounds Alex made or the feeling of his muscles under his hands, but it was tough. He was ready to stop and end his torture for the night when Alex grabbed his wrist to stop him from capping the tub of Biofreeze. Michael looked at him with a raised eyebrow.       “Will you do my right hip for me?” Alex asked, hand falling away from Michael’s wrist. Michael held his gaze for a moment before nodding.       “How do you want me to…?” Michael asked, voice trailing off as Alex worked his underwear down until the band rested right under the curve of his ass cheeks. Alex was either the most obtuse person in the world or the cruelest and Michael wasn’t sure which as he stared at his naked ass in front of him.       “Michael?” Alex’s voice pulled him out of his trance. He blushed a little and scooped out a little more of the astringent-smelling gel. He pressed his hands against the side of Alex’s hip in a spreading, circular motion. Immediately, Alex was pressing his face against the pillow under his chin and moaning softly. Michael stared at his hands hard, trying to block out any other input but what he felt under his fingertips, but Alex’s moans broke through every time and by the end of his ministrations, he was half hard and hoping Alex couldn’t tell. Quickly, he capped the jar of Biofreeze and scrambled off the mattress to go wash his hands. When he turned back, Alex had pulled his underwear back up, but he was still laying on his stomach.       “Thank you,” Alex said simply as he watched Michael dry his hands on the towel he’d used earlier from the shower. Michael looked over his shoulder at him and smiled genuinely.       “No problem. Want some water?” Michael asked carefully. Alex shut his eyes and shook his head.       “Just the cover once you get back in bed,” Alex responded through a yawn. Michael tried not to be charmed, but Alex was already getting that adorably sleepy look he got when he was already halfway out. It was unguarded and made Michael’s chest hurt with how soft it made him look. Alex felt Michael crawl into bed a moment later and then draw the covers up over him. Once he was safely hidden, Alex turned onto his side facing away from Michael and reached down to adjust himself. The hip thing had been a bit much, but Michael’s hands had felt so good on him…. And if he was honest with himself, since letting the idea of having sex with Michael had entered his mind, all their interactions seemed to take on an entirely different tone. The stretches? How had he done that with Michael every night for over a week and not gotten a boner? How had he not been waking up from wet dreams every night? Michael had given him a massage before and actually straddled his ass, why were they not already balls deep in each other?       Their friendship had been hard won and this trip wasn’t supposed to change anything between them. Alex laid in bed with his eyes closed and stared into the dark of the hotel room, aware of every shift and breath of the person sharing the covers with him. He didn’t know how he fell asleep that night, but eventually he did. If he hadn’t been so absorbed in his own thoughts, Alex might’ve noticed that it took just as long for Michael to achieve sleep as well.

Undisclosed Desires

    Alex woke up feeling like he almost had a hangover. He was laying in a cold, porcelain bathtub with his knees bent up and his hands crossed over his chest. There was a rolled up towel under his neck in lieu of a pillow. He’d spent the last three days sleeping like this since it was the only relatively light tight room in Forrest’s apartment across town. He groaned loudly as he pushed himself to sit up and stretched. He had to go back to the house tonight. He needed to convince Forrest that by leaving the apartment he wasn’t leaving him. He probably should text Michael back and let him know he wasn’t dead… Or he could just wait until tomorrow to do what he dreaded today. 

    Forrest opened the bathroom door and flipped on dim vanity lighting above the sink.He climbed out of the bathtub and slipped on his shirt and jeans that he’d left folded on the toilet lid. Forrest looked at him from where he leaned his shoulder against the door frame with an appraising look on his face. 

    “Hello lover,” Forrest cooed, looking self-satisfied and a little lascivious. Alex internally groaned again. His dick was sore. His ass was sore. He’d had sex more in the last three days than he’d had in a long time and all of it was initiated by Forrest as some sort of validation for their relationship. Alex could not have sex again all night tonight. He smiled anyway, also not wanting to fight again.

    “Hey baby,” he replied, stepping close and nuzzling his nose against Forrest’s. Forrest kissed him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pushing up onto his toes to press more into the kiss. Alex kissed him for a few minutes until he felt his arms relaxing and his hands starting to travel south on his body. 

    “Mm, I need to go back to the house tonight,” Alex told him as soon as he could end the kiss. He grabbed Forrest’s hands and knit their fingers together, pressing their palms close. Forrest looked up at him with a pout and Alex kissed his nose affectionately. “I need to change clothes and check in with Kyle about the carriage house. Tomorrow we’re doing a parlor party. Come over, hang out, sleep over, whatever you want.”

    “Whatever I want?” Forrest asked, looking up at him with a sultry, mischievous smile. 

    “Within reason….” Alex amended, but he grinned at Forrest before kissing him quickly and then playfully swooping down to gnaw playfully at his neck with blunt teeth. Forrest shrieked but didn’t push him away. His hands tightened in Alex’s and only relaxed when Alex kissed the spot he’d sipped from the other night. He had no idea how Forrest had any energy left after the blood draining and sex. He’d seen other humans in bed for days after a single feeding. 

    “Maybe I’ll drop by, you know, just to see who’s there,” Forrest said overly casually. Alex clenched his jaw behind his smile. 

    “Sounds good,” he replied, before giving Forrest’s hands a quick squeeze and side-stepping around him to go grab his boots from the living room. He picked up his things as he went, a sock here, his phone there, and pocketed everything he couldn’t put back on. Once he was as put together as he was going to get, he started toward the front door. 

A Working Title

   “Did you make me something tasty?” he asked, leaning over to eye the quesadillas laid out on plates. 

    “Cheesesteak quesadillas. They go great with Guinness,” Michael commented, nodding his head over at the sweating six pack on the counter. Alex wrinkled his nose a little when he spotted them and Michael laughed easily at him. “Don’t tell me you’re a hop head?”

    “No, just… It always takes me about half a beer to remember that Guinness isn’t terrible. I prefer something just a few shades lighter,” Alex replied. He went ahead and grabbed two beers and transported them and himself over to the dining table. With a quick motion, he popped both the bottle caps off on the side of the table and set them between Michael and his seats. Michael brought over the food and set it down in front of them along with a bowl of strawberries. Alex raised an eyebrow at him in question at the strawberries. Michael’s cheeks pinked a little as he sat down. 

    “They’ll just go bad in the fridge. Might as well eat them,” Michael replied after clearing his throat. Alex tried to suppress a smile and failed spectacularly at Michael’s cheesiness and lack of subtlety. 

    “Did you buy chocolate dip too?” Alex asked, picking up a piece of his quesadilla and watching Michael’s reaction as he bit into it. Michael pointedly did not look up at him and if anything his cheeks went pinker. Alex put down his piece and scooted his chair over to where he could reach Michael to kiss one of his cheeks. “You’re seriously the cheesiest, most ridiculously romantic person I think I’ve ever met and it’s one of my favorite things about you so don’t you dare think about ever stopping, okay?”

    Michael turned his head to look at him, cocky smile back in place. He kissed Alex’s lips lightly. 

    “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied, lasting a full three seconds before his close lipped grin turned into a full fledged, teeth showing smile. Alex scoffed, but kissed him again quickly before moving his chair back so he could eat.

[blkmxrvel]

All Grown Up (PT. 1)

Pairing: Brie Larson x CollegeStudent!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Request: -

Summary: You’re In college, You’re dating Brie. Yeah there are some people who are gonna talk shit, but everything’s going to be alright as long as you have her… right?

Warnings: Fans being assholes, Angst, break ups, Heart break. Not edited. 

A/N: So, I’ve had this in my drafts for almost a year. Haven’t even looked at my docs since the last fic I uploaded. I wanna get back into writing since my life has calmed down quite a bit since October, so I just decided to post the furthest along fic in my WIPs. I may write part two, and finish the concept but I’m not too sure. And I may finish the requests in my inbox, but I’m not too sure about that either. For now, I just hope you enjoy this :)

You were walking hand in hand with Brie, your head down as to avoid the blinding lights being flashed in your face. Your body was up against hers and you pushed through the crowd, the loud yells of the paparazzi flooding your ears.

Brie! Do you have any response to the people who have called you a pedophile?! Any comments? 

Do you think this relationship is going to work? 

Why are you dating a gold digger!? I mean she’s practically a prostitute!

Brie usually could keep her cool when it was her getting the heat, but that made her lose it. She drew the line at you.

 She snapped her head around towards the man, eyes wide and furious. “What the fuck did you just say?” You pressed your hand on to Brie’s chest pushing her to keep walking. 

“Let’s go, Brie. Don’t pay them any mind, they don’t know anything.” She listened, albeit reluctantly, and made her way into the building. 

From the moment you and Brie had started dating, people couldn’t stop having an opinion on it. You were in college, finishing up your degree when you had first met her. She was 13 years your senior but that didn’t really matter to either of you. There was something about one that pulled the other toward them, besides you were more attracted to older women anyway.

You had done your best to ignore all of the comments being said about you both. The only people who really knew what was going on between you and Brie were….you and Brie. And you figured that it should stay that way. There is no need to justify or explain yourself to people who were just onlookers. At the end of the day, you and Brie were the only two people that mattered. 

None of your close friends and family made any comments or passed judgement either, they were completely fine and loved the two of you together. The only ones who said anything were even impactful on your life, so it shouldn’t matter at all. 

You walked past the theater doors, smiling at all of the familiar faces. It was the Avenger: Endgame movie premiere, and of course you were Brie’s plus 1. 

Brie barely even had a chance to breathe before an interviewer was flagging her down. 

“Brie and Y/N! Hollywood’s best couple, beautiful as always! Are you excited for the movie?" 

Brie was the first one to speak up. ”Super excited! I’ve never seen anything pieced together, just the individual scenes, I can’t wait to see what the whole thing looks like.“ 

"You’re not the only one! What about you, Y/N?” The interviewer held the microphone to your face, smiling encouragingly at you. 

“No, yeah. I’m stoked too! I’ve always been a fan of Marvel, comic books and the films and it’s a bit overwhelming to be at an actual premiere.” Brie’s hand came to rub over your hip, smiling down at you. “I’m supposed to be at home studying for an exam, but this is easily more important in my book.”

Laughs rang out as the reporter agreed. “I second that. Well I hope you too have a great time watching it! Congratulations, Brie on all of your hard work! You were amazing in Captain Marvel and I’m sure you’ll be just as great in this, if not more." 

"Hey!” You squinted playfully at the reporter. “She’s taken!” You placed your body in front of Brie’s, failing to hold in the laugh that was expelled from your body. 

The interviewer had left eventually, and you and Brie continued your walk down the red carpet. Pictures were taken of Brie by herself, with you, and some with her castmates. 

As you walked towards the main auditorium with your girlfriend, you began to feel eyes on you and hear hushed whispers. Looking around, you saw fans more than likely whispering things about you and Brie. It was pretty obvious, they were giggling slightly and rolling their eyes when you looked that way.

Just because you were dating someone who was so used to the limelight, didn’t mean that you were automatically comfortable with it too. You were 21 for god sakes, there were so many things that you didn’t like about yourself. You hated how people could judge and make assumptions on someone they didn’t even know, you ignored the comments, yes. But that didn’t mean the pressure didn’t eat away at yourself esteem.

“Baby, you alright?” Brie had stopped while walking inside, popcorn in one hand your face in the other. “You’re doing that thing again.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What thing?”

“The thing where you go silent and press your body into me when we’re walking. Plus your hands are clammy and your eyes keep darting everywhere.”

You secretly hated how Brie knew you so well, but after a year and a half of dating, what could you really expect?

“What’s wrong?” She asked again, her lips coming to kiss your forehead. 

“I can feel people staring, and then when I look up their whispering and giggling. They don’t do anything to cover it up!” You leaned into Brie more at the confession.

“Who was it?” Brie’s body pulled away from yours as she searched then hallway with squinted eyes. “I will fuck them up." 

You giggled, pulling Brie back toward you, resuming your walking until you got into the theater and sat down in your seat. 

"I just…I’m trying not to imagine what they’re saying. The things they say out loud are bad enough.” Brie frowned before pulling you from your seat into her lap. 

She kissed your cheek, then your nose, then your ear. “Don’t think about that, baby. Whatever they’re saying is incorrect. They don’t know you.” She wrapped her arms around your middle and pulled you down so that your head was on her shoulder. “They don’t know how hard you work, how smart you are, how brave and resilient you are. How much I love you. They don’t matter because they aren’t here. Just try your hardest to block it out okay?" 

You nodded, lifting your head up. Your eyes worked a little hard to find Brie’s eyes in the darkness. The movie hadn’t started yet, it was only the trailers. 

You found her eyes, holding contact as you smiling a toothless smiles. "I love you. So so so much, Brie.” You leaned in and sealed your words, your girlfriend kissing you back eagerly.

“I love you way more, baby.” She said when you pulled away. “Forever and Always.”

—-

Finals were a complete bitch, you’d decided. Whoever came up with the concept of a huge exam on everything you’ve learned and making it a big portion of your final grade could suck your ass. 

It wasn’t like you could slack on this one either, no. This was your first final of the first semester of your last year of college. You were graduating early and you couldn’t mess this up. You had no choice to but to do well. 

You sighed as a rattle of keys came from the outside of your apartment. Brie was home. You were excited, but so fucking stressed that you didn’t pay any mind to Brie. 

“Hey Y/N!” That was weird, she never called you by your name usually, oh well. You chalked it up to a one time thing and focused on your work. 

“Hey, how was your day?” You flipped the page, eyes glancing up to your girlfriend briefly.

“Pretty good actually, the scenes went really well.” Walked over to the couch, plopping down as she sipped her drink. She smiled down at you. You were still in your pajamas, a t-shirt two sizes too big and your hair unruly. 

“Well I’m glad at least one of us had a good day." 

"How long have you been studying?” You shrugged going over the flashcards in your head. “What time is it?”

Brie glanced at her watch, taking a minute to read the time. “Quarter till 10.”

“Then like 12 hours almost, I started a little bit after you left.” At that Brie’s eyes were as wide as saucers. 

“12 hours!? Y/F/N, that is way too much. And knowing you, you haven’t taken a break besides to pee, which means you haven’t eaten in 12 hours." 

"Hey, everything as a price- hey! Stop! What are you doing? Give it back!” You got up onto your knees and tried to snatch your book back from Brie, who held it way above your head.

“Brie, come on! I need to study!” You pouted as you stood in front of her. 

“You’ve studied enough, baby. You need to eat and rest. A rested brain is a passing brain.” You hugged again, reaching to grab your book again, failing when you fell right into Brie’s lap.

“I’m never gonna walk if I don’t pass this class. I need to graduate at the end of the year.” Brie pushed you back up and held your face. Her reys started right into yours and her furrowed her eyebrows. 

“I know, and you’re gonna pass. You’re going to ace all of your exams and finals and graduate with the Magna Cum Laude.” She kissed your cheeks, smiling brightly. “You’re going to walk across the stage, grab your diploma and your certificate, and you’re going to walk off a graduate, my little graduate.” She kissed your lips this time, allowing you to melt all of your worries away. 

“I know I’m too hard on myself,” you began when you pulled away. “But there’s just so much at stake. Graduating 2 years early is already a risk but doing so when you’re in the public eye and everybody hates you? It’s a different breed." 

Brie nodded in understanding. "I know, baby. But you gotta give yourself more credit. You’re going to graduate and you’re going to hear my loud ass cheering for you the whole time.”

Your eyes lit up at that. You hadn’t expected that. “You’re going? I thought you were going to be filming the day of the graduation?" 

Brie shook her head, hands coming to rest on your thighs. "I was, but I convinced them to give me a week off to see my girl graduate.” Brie smiled widely at you and you wiggled in your seat. You were giddy because Brie getting to be at your graduation, cheering you on and letting everyone know that she was proud of you, was worth all the stress you were putting yourself through. 

“You promise?” You held your pinky up, heart racing racing when Brie interlocked hers with yours and kissed the back of her hand. 

“I promise, princess." 

—-

"We need to break up.” You had almost dropped your glass. Your heart fell into your stomach and it felt like the wind was knocked out of you. 

“What?” Your voice was shaky at your addressed your….girlfriend? 

“I’m sorry, I just. I can’t do this anymore.” Your heart began beating faster as tears sprung to your eyes. 

“Brie, you’ve got to be joking. Please tell me you’re joking.” You let the tears fall, your fingers in a vice grip against the counter. 

“I’m not, and I’m so sorry I led you on like this, Y/N. So sorry that I let it get this far. The age gap is just too much. You need someone your age. We both do. We’re just…. Two people with two different experiences.” 

You sink to the floor, no longer caring about what you looked like. Your worst nightmare was finally coming true. You tried your hardest to tell yourself that the age gap between you and Brie didn’t matter. She tried her hardest to help you rid yourself of that fear. And here she was, breaking up with you over that exact reason. Was it all a lie? 

There was no point in arguing, Y/N concluded. No point in trying to convince Brie to stay with her, maybe change her mind and snap her out of it. No matter how bad it hurt, how bad she wanted Brie to stay, it was never going to work out. They were never going to have a real love. 

“Okay.” Y/N nodded, wiping the tears from under her eyes. Her heart hardened immediately. She stood up on shaky legs and a broken heart. She couldn’t let Brie see her care too much.  

“I’ll leave. I’ll probably send Scarlett or Chris to come and get my things. If you could just put them all in a box for me that’d be great.” She grabbed her book bag and her books, making her way to the door. “Just things that I bought, nothing you bought me. Please.” 

Brie felt her heart shatter at her broken ex-girlfriend. This was hurting her too, but it had to be done. She was crazy to go after a girl so much younger than her and think that they would actually last. Y/N deserved better. 

“Okay,” Brie wiped a tear from her eye and clenched her hands when she saw Y/N reach for the knob. “We can still be friends, you know. This is the end of the relationship, but it doesn’t have to be the end of our friendship. We were friends first.” 

A chill ran down Brie’s spine at the bitter chuckled that left Y/N’s lips. Her free hand came to run through her hair while the door squeezed the knob. “Well we ruined that friendship when we started dating. And besides, I can’t be just friends with someone I wanted to spend my life with.”

Brie pouted, and Y/N almost smiled, almost. “Don’t say that. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life with me, that’s all in your head. You’ll find someone else. I’m sure.” 

Y/N nodded her head once, a nod of hurt, acceptance and realization. “Yeah, whatever you say, Brie. Have a nice life.” Y/N opened the door as just like that she was gone. 

Brie felt the wind being knocked out of her. She immediately fell to the ground, sobs and desperate breaths wracking through her body. She had done it, she let Y/N go. And it hurt, it hurt so bad. 

 What had she just done? 

–

Neither Y/N nor Brie had gotten much time to grieve and heal, because once word got out about the break-up. Everyone was asking about it. Y/N would get stopped by everyone on campus asking why they broke up; if it was because Brie realized what a gold digger you were, or if she was only in it for the Sex and companionship. None of the questions were positive, or in the slightest bit respectful. Y/N didn’t know what she expected, everyone hated her and Brie together. If they didn’t like and respect her then, why would they do it now? Y/N just stuck herself. School, work and home was all she focused on. Without Brie, it was all she had. 

Most of her nights were filled with what went wrong, and what the absolute hell was wrong with her. Y/N blamed herself. If was maybe a little bit older, or maybe not in school or carried herself better. Maybe then Brie would’ve liked her enough to stay. If she acted older maybe then age wouldn’t matter. She didn’t really know, and it was killing her. But she had to live with it, live with the self-sabotaging demons in her head. 

Brie wasn’t doing much better either. She was in the public eye constantly. Everyone was asking her about the break-up: in interviews or at parties, award shows and meet and greets. It was exhausting, heartbreaking. Brie doesn’t even know why she broke up with Y/N. She thought it was for the best, that it would be better than way. But all it did was cause her more pain. 

She regrets it, regrets it all. She just feels so stupid that she let the thoughts and opinions of other get into her head. She hates how she allowed their words to fuel her insecurities and sent her down the wrong path. She could only blame herself though. She had the choice to tell everyone to shut up, to make the announcement that her and Y/N’s was just that: her and Y/N. And that everyone else should just shut the fuck up and go somewhere. But no. She allowed herself to be consumed in all of that and it led to her losing the love of her life. She had to do something.  

[theprodigypenguin]

👀

This is an excerpt from a WIP called “Yes Man” that I wanted to write a little after finishing “Moon Sick”. It’s a blend of Jeddy and Scorbus (and I almost never write Scorbus so this was supposed to help me get used to then yeet). It also had a bunch of really fun bits with Albus and James being bros, James having an oblivious crush on Teddy and not realizing it, also James being so stupid in love he’d say yes to anything Teddy asked, even if it meant helping him get together with a girl:

“Alright! Now this should be an excellent day!” was the first thing James said as he stepped onto the cobbled path down Diagon Alley, “Albus, let me see your book list.”

“What for? Do you not remember what you had to buy for your sixth year?”

“That was ages ago, Al,” James said, snatching the envelope from his brothers hand and opening it, “Can’t expect me to remember everything.”

“James this is only your first year out of school, stop acting like you’re Merlin.”

James just ignored him, “The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6; Advanced Potion-Making; Confronting the Faceless, that’s the text for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Dad also said I had to take you to get you new robes, because you just had to get taller didn’t you?”

“Why do I have to do this with you in the first place?” Albus asked, “I’m sixteen now, I should be allowed to shop for school supplies by myself without you. Hey why doesn’t Lily have to come with us?”

“Dad and mum both have work, Al, and Lily went with Rose and Hugo.”

“Why the hell does Rose get to go off on her own and I can’t?! She’s sixteen too!”

“Albus you know exactly why.”

“This is bloody unfair…”

“Ah come on, Al, you really hate spending time with me that much? I thought we had an understanding. We’re brothers, remember!” he threw an arm around Albus, “Besides, I love spending time with you!”

“Ugh…”

“That should be your motto, etched in stone on your grave. Ugh.”

“Can you shut up? Let’s just fucking get what I need and go home.”

“Hey, try a bit harder to be happy about this. We might run into Scorpius while we’re here.”

James felt Albus tense under his arm, but there was no more protest, so he released his younger brother and they headed for the closest shop to get Albus sized for new robes.

Maybe it was a bit unfair to use Scorpius against Albus like that, but it was so fun to do, to see his face change when the young Malfoy’s name was brought up.

Albus and Scorpius, inseparable friends since the instant they met eyes on the Hogwarts Express leading to their first year, had been dating for the past few months. James figured it started sometime during their fifth year, towards the end of it perhaps.

He didn’t pick up on it for the longest time, and Lily felt no shame in calling him an utterly dense airhead whenever he noted his confusion (“Didn’t even realize they were an item now.” “James, your head is full of Billywiggs.”).

The first time it occurred to him that they might have been something more than friends was during a trip to Hogsmeade, where he saw Albus and Scorpius over the heads of other students, leaning into each other, seemingly no personal space between the two of them and not at all caring. James had no idea what they were talking about, but Albus was grinning so big there were dimples in his cheeks that James never noticed he had before, and there was a flush of red across Scorpius’ nose that definitely could have been mistaken as caused by the cold.

They always stood that close, though, so it wasn’t until James saw them later entering The Hog’s Head that his interest piqued, following them into the dingy pub and sitting in the furthest corner to watch them from a distance and not be spotted. You didn’t go into The Hog’s Head unless you didn’t want to be bothered or seen doing something you shouldn’t have been doing. None of the other students went in there, normally preferring to take up at The Three Broomsticks (which was a cleaner and better kept establishment).

That was probably exactly why they went into The Hog’s Head, though. Even after five years, the rest of the school didn’t seem too fond of Albus or Scorpius, so they probably wouldn’t have had much fun in the crowded Three Broomsticks where so many of the students could be found. 

While The Hog’s Head had definitely been refurbished and tidied up a bit since the death of Voldemort, it was still quite a mess, and not nearly what The Three Broomsticks was. The lights were low, though the dust had been cleaned from the floor at some point, the glasses cleaner than they ever were before and likely ever would be again. There was still a lingering scent of grass and mud and goats, but it also smelt of malt liquor, chocolate, and incense, as if the old owner was trying to “spice things up”.

The pubs owner and operator, Aberforth Dumbledore, acted like he knew Albus and Scorpius, greeting them and waving them to a table in the far corner just across from James. It was hidden from most of the windows so no classmates would be able to spot the Slytherin boys if they happened to pass and glance inside (as if they would be able to see anything through the cloudy windows anyway). They didn’t even have to order, as Aberforth had returned minutes later with two tankards that were hopefully clean.

When he wandered over to James, who was slouching with his hood up (not at all unusual in the Hog’s Head), Aberforth just stared blankly.

“What can I get you, Potter?”

“What? I’m not- I’m just a humble traveler my good sir.”

“I can see the Gryffindor crest on your chest.”

“Bloody hell-” James tried to fold his cloak over himself to hide the red crest as Aberforth gave a snort. “I’m just-”

“I don’t care,” Aberforth interrupted. “Spy on your brother in a shadowed cobwebbed corner in a shady Hogsmeade pub, won’t make any left or right to me. What do you want to drink?”

“Just a warm Butterbeer please.”

“Fine.”

James eyed the old wizard as he shuffled away before looking back over at Albus and Scorpius. They’d pulled their seats together, leaning into each other with one hand on their drinks and grins at their mouths and a flush to their cheeks, though James didn’t think they’d even taken a sip of what they’d ordered (and they were only fifteen, James definitely hoped they weren’t drinking Firewhiskey).

“Pst, are they drinking alcohol?” James asked under his breath when Aberforth came and set down a steaming cup.

“I don’t sell to minors.”

“Right…”

It was then that it happened, when Aberforth started back towards the bar and James picked up his steaming mug, hugging it to his chest so the scent could waft into his face, warming his hands and raising the tankard up, watching his brother and the young Malfoy leaning closer while laughing about something, a joke or something stupid that one of them did, or saw someone else do; James wished he could hear them.

Their foreheads were touching now, laughing at their private joke, both tilting their chins until their noses were brushing, then their lips, interrupted quite suddenly when a rag smacked Albus in the back of the head, making him jerk back and spin in his seat to glare at Aberforth.

“What the bloody-”

“No snogging in my pub, Potter, you’ll chase all my customers away.”

“What?! We’re the only ones in here!” James sunk down in his seat. “We’re the only ones who ever come here!”

“Sorry, Mister Dumbledore,” Scorpius quickly said, grinning, and Aberforth gave another grunt as he walked away.

“Your father had to curse you with that name, boy, just like the original, snogging trouble makers in dark corners.”

“What was that?”

“I said you’re as gay as my brother.”

“Wow, what an honor.”

It was clear that they were trying hard to keep their relationship a secret, so of course everyone eventually found out. Maybe it was because James told Lily he saw them snogging, maybe it was because Lily already knew, but by the end of the year, Fred, Roxanne, Rose, Louis, Lily, and Hugo, all of their family still in school, knew about their relationship, either because they heard from James, saw the boys snogging for themselves (despite their attempts to hide it), or had already known about it.

Even Dominique and Victoire didn’t seem all that surprised when Fred and James told them. In fact, Victoire actually scolded James for spying on them, as if he’d never done that before.

Over the summer break, Scorpius had visited a few times, and Albus had even been allowed over to Malfoy Manor a few times, and somehow no one ever suspected. Maybe because the two of them always acted the way they did. Leaning into each other, sitting on opposite ends of the couch with their legs tangled together, Albus falling asleep on Scorpius’ shoulder at the table during breakfast; it was all stuff they’d been doing since they met.

The only difference that separated their long time friendship and their newly discovered romantic relationship was the occasional snogging in dark corners.

So yea, bringing Scorpius up was bound to get Albus to silently go along with James through Diagon Alley. The concept of bumping into his boyfriend was too good to pass up. James struggled to hide his snickers as they dropped into seats in front of Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour with wrapped parcels and bags of newly acquired school supplies.

Albus kept pivoting his head back and forth, glancing over one shoulder then the other, clearly searching for someone. Someone who just happened to have platinum blond hair and grey eyes.

“Well, he could be busy. Maybe he already picked up supplies, or intends to get his things later,” James tried to lift Albus’ spirits, but his little brother just slumped in his seat exhaling heavily through his nose. “Or you could just sit there sulking into your banana split like the Millennial you are, that’s also a fine option. Well done, Albus.”

“Piss off.”

“Wow.”

[palmettofoxesthings]

Original Story WIP

this is all a part of a larger story that I am currently not inclined to write but kinda works as a one off thing.

September, 2015

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” Celeste hugged her knees to her chest and dug her toes into the sand. “We’re actually growing up.”

“Yep.” Elena dropped down beside her and handed over a bottle of cider. “Proper adults.” She laughed and took a swig from the bottle. “Living life and being independent. Making mistakes and getting the hell out of here.”

“You’re really not going to miss home at all?” 

“No.” Elena shrugged. “It’s like… It’s like when you take an exam or something. You don’t think you’re ready for it and then when you’ve done it you could never think about going back.” Celeste laughed and drank from her own bottle as she fixed a quizzical look on her friend.

“That has to be the worst metaphor you’ve ever come up with, El.”

“Whatever. You get what I mean.”

“Yeah, I think I do. Sadly. Spent too much time with a crazy person. It’s affecting my sanity.”

“Hey!” Elena pushed Celeste a little and laughed. Celeste pushed back and turned to stare off to the horizon. The sun was setting behind them and the sky above the sea was dark. Celeste could only imagine what was in the ocean. Something about it tugged at her chest and suddenly her light mood dropped. Elena turned at the sudden silence of her friend and frowned. 

“Oh, god.” Elena moaned. “Don’t get all sad on me now. This is meant to be a celebration. I mean, you’re going to Oxford for fucks sake. Oxford. As in one of the best universities in the world.”

“Yeah.” Celeste said with no enthusiasm. “It’ll be great.” She took another drink from her bottle in her hand and half buried it in the sand to keep it upright, just like she had been doing on this beach for years.

“All right, we are not doing this on your last day.” Elena stood up and held her hands out to Celeste.

“Doing what?” Celeste took Elena’s hands and let herself be pulled up.

“Being miserable.” Elena said it so matter-of-factly that Celeste couldn’t even protest that she was not, in fact, miserable, she was merely contemplative. “We are getting drunk, and dancing, and not getting home till 3am.”

“My parents will kill me. We’re leaving at 5.”

“All the more reason to do it.” Celeste rolled her eyes but let Elena drag her towards to sea.

“You’ll take any reason to piss my parents off.”

“Meh.” Elena shot Celeste a look over her shoulder that Celeste knew read as Elena really couldn’t care less. Celeste couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her cheeks. This was pure and unfiltered Elena, a born trouble maker with mischief built into her DNA. She had been the person who had gotten Celeste into trouble over the years, but she had also dragged her out of it more times than Celeste could count. 

Elena kicked her shoes off near the edge of the water and ran in. Celeste watched her go and shook her head. They were going to freeze, she knew they were going to freeze, she knew this was an utterly awful, terrible, idea. But when she looked back at their little fire, at the bottles of cider left on the beach, at the scene that had been her best and worst times, she couldn’t help but follow along. 

The instant her toes hit the water, Celeste felt a shiver that seemed to wrack up her whole body. Northern England was not a place to go swimming at any time other than, well, ever in Celeste’s opinion. A few metres away Elena was knee deep in the water and getting deeper. Celeste braced herself for a moment to collect her thoughts and question why it was that she was going to do this. Then she charged straight at Elena and knocked them both into the water, head, shoulders and all. 

When they broke the surface again Elena had mascara streaming down her face and Celeste assumed she looked mostly the same. They grinned at each other, neck deep in the water and freezing cold, and couldn’t have been happier. The still silence of the night hung around them both as they stared up to the moon, shining in its full glory and leaving a trail of white across the top of the water. They bobbed on the water in time with the gentle waves.

“I’m gonna miss you.” Celeste broke the silence with a sad smile. “Won’t be the same living without you.”

“I’m gonna miss you too.” Elena pushed a piece of hair out of her face and went in to hug Celeste. At the last moment she whipped her arms out in front of her and splashed water into Celeste and swam away.

“Oh my god!” Celeste spluttered. “What the hell?”

“Too many emotions. It was gross.”

“I hate you!” Celeste swam after Elena. Elena’s eyes widened when she saw Celeste coming and started swimming for shore, both of the laughing the whole time. “Get back here and let me take my revenge!”

“Never!” Elena scrambled to get her feet under her and run along the sea bed back to the fire. Unfortunately, Celeste had always been the stronger swimmer and caught up from behind. She knocked them both down to the sand at the edge of the water. She pinned Elena beneath her and watched as the waves moved Elena’s hair around her.

Elena has always had fascinating eyes. Celeste had thought so since they first met in year 3. The two 7 year olds had spent five minutes staring at each other when the teacher sat them next to each other on the first day of the school year. Celeste had moved to the village over the summer so she has sat, chewing her lip, waiting for her first judgement. She remembered her parents telling her that she would be fine, she just needed to be herself. Elena had cocked her head to one side and then said ‘I like your hair’ and that had been that. Celeste smiled in relief and responded in kind about Elena’s eyes. Elena had given her a sharp nod and they hadn’t been separated since. 

Their noses were impossibly close. Elena wrapped her fingers around Celeste’s and closed the gap. The tips of their noses brushed against each other. They had been doing this dance for two years, getting close and pulling away at the last minute. Tonight, though, Celeste decided enough was enough. 

Their kiss was short. A tentative experiment between the two. When Celeste pulled away she saw Elena grinning. 

“You taste like salt.” Elena said. 

“Likewise.” Celeste huffed out a laugh. 

“Why have we never done that?” Celeste shrugged in response. She was too concerned with the ghost of Elena dancing on her lips. “Do it again.”

“Yeah.” Celeste ran a hand through Elena’s hair and brought it round to rest on her cheek. This kiss was longer, more confident. Elena brought them up so they sat with the water lapping around their legs. Elena braced then both with her hands buried in the sand behind her while Celeste moved her hands to Elena’s neck.

When they broke apart Elena’s heart was racing and Celeste was breathless. Celeste buried her forehead into Elena’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around Elena. 

Elena flicked her eyes towards their fire on the beach. The flames were dying and soon there would be no benefit to the flames. 

“We should go back to the fire.” Elena said. “Needs some more wood.” Celeste grumbled into Elena’s shoulder. “And you’re freezing.”

“Your fault.”

“Mm hm. Fire. Warmth. Dry.”

“Warmth sounds nice.”

“Then get up.” Elena laughed. Celeste stood up grumbling all the time. 

Sand clung to their feet as they walked across the beach to their fire. Celeste picked up her drink and finished the last half of the bottle as she watched Elena add some more wood to the fire. 

Elena grabbed her own bottle and took a seat next to Celeste. Celeste rested her head on Elena’s shoulder and smiled into the fire. For a while, at least, she could pretend that she wasn’t leaving in the morning. Elena wrapped an arm around Celeste’s shoulders and pulled her close.

Elena remembered the last time they had been on the beach this late at night. Celeste had just been dumped by her boyfriend so Elena had snatched her sister’s cider from under her bed. She had gone around to Celeste’s house as soon as she had eaten with her family and dragged Celeste away.

When the door had opened in front of Elena she had gotten her first look at Celeste since school the previous day. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks had been puffy with tear stains running down both of them. Celeste looked unsurprised that it was Elena at her door at 9 at night and she had given Elena a sad smile in greeting.

“We’re going to the beach.” Elena had announced and held up the pilfered alcohol that she had hidden inside of a reusable shopping bag. Celeste had blinked and looked confused as she processed the statement rather than question. Celeste had then looked over her shoulder towards the lounge where she could hear her parents watching TV.

“I can’t. My parents’ll kill me.”

“It’s a Saturday.” Elena shrugged. “They’ll be passed out in their in half an hour. They won’t even notice.” It had stung Celeste to know that what Elena was saying was true. Elena had seen Celeste’s face fall and knew she had said the wrong thing, not that her friend would ever have said it. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have come unannounced. I’ll come by tomorrow.” Elena had reached in to hug Celeste but Celeste pulled back. Elena had frozen and taken a minute to take in the sight of Celeste biting her lip. It was a quirk of hers, one that Elena had noticed when it started when they were in year 7 and Celeste wasn’t quite sure what to do. It was also a sign that Celeste was probably not going to do the ‘good girl’ thing.

They had ended up on the beach, without a fire since a heatwave had hit England and it was still over 20 degrees at night. Elena had pumped music through her phone and they had spent the night laughing and crying together and, eventually, sat wrapped in each others arms and staring out to the ocean.

Staring into the fire, though, Elena hoped that the heartache that Celeste felt that night was the furthest thing from her mind. She budged Celeste off her shoulder to free herself to stoke the fire and turn her back on it to dry off. Celeste followed suit and shifted so that she was looking out to the water. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on top of them. 

“Something’s on your mind.” Elena said.

“Yeah.” Celeste acknowledge but she did not move from her spot in the sand. Instead she curled into herself tighter and buried her face into her knees.

“Wanna talk about it?” Celeste mumbled something unintelligible and shook her head. “Ok.” Elena waited for Celeste to raise her head, like she had done so many times before when she had pulled into herself. Elena knew that she just had to wait for Celeste to gather the words and force them through her mouth. It had happened too many times for Elena to recall.

“I-” Celeste choked on the word. Too many thoughts were running through her head. Too many things that her parents had said to her over the years that were weighing down on her and felt like they were crushing anything that was Celeste and not a miniature version of them.

“You need to stop hanging around with Elena, she’s no good for you.” Her mother had said to her. Celeste had lost track of how many times they had had this very argument. Neither of them had ever gotten anywhere with the other. Celeste insisted that her mother refused to listen, that she refused to acknowledge her part in how Celeste felt, and nothing crushed Celeste more than being asked how her mother could fix things because what would that prove? That her mother could follow instructions, not that she was understood, or heard, or believed in.

“Just stop it!” Celeste said. “I’ve heard, I know what you think, but I love her so shut up.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous, you don’t love her.”

“Yes, I do.” Celeste’s bottom lip had begun trembling. It was an admission that she had never made out loud before, and had barely made it to herself in her head.

“You’re too young and too naive to know anything. You’re not ‘in love’, it’s ridiculous.”

“If you think I’m too young it’s only because you won’t let me grow up.”

“Don’t say such rubbish.” Celeste’s mother scoffed and brushed her off with the same casual dismissal as she had for Celeste’s whole life.

“It’s not rubbish!” Frustration was clawing its way through Celeste. She could feel tears building in her eyes and an overwhelming desire to tug on her hair.

“It is rubbish. Of course I let you grow up. I’m supporting you aren’t I? With your university nonsense.”

“University nonsense.” Celeste’s voice wavered with disbelief threaded through every word. As much as she wished that she could, Celeste had not been able to stop the tears that started rolling down her cheeks. “Get out.” Celeste had tried to keep her voice steady, tried to keep calm, but when her mother didn’t budge she shouted. “Get out! Get out, get out!”

“Ungrateful brat!” Her mother had shouted from the other side of the door. Celeste had closed it and dropped all of her weight onto it, letting herself slide down the door and onto the floor.

“Sorry.” Celeste wiped the tears from her eyes. At some point during the memory Elena moved to her side and pulled Celeste into her arms.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Elena said because she knew exactly what Celeste had been thinking about just as she knew the days of the week or the ten times table. It was a kind of intrinsic knowledge but she could not pinpoint when or where she had learnt it. “You’re gonna kill it, you know. University, I mean. You’re amazing at anything you set your mind to.”

“Well we’ll see if Cicero agrees with you soon.”

“It still baffles me that you know Latin.”

“Honestly? Me too.” Celeste laughed. 

“We should head home.” Elena said, a few hours later. 

“Yeah.” Celeste nodded. She held out an unsteady hand to Elena once she was standing and together thy covered their fire, which had gone out about an hour previously.

“You know,” Celeste slurred a little as they left the beach, “we should do this before I go every time.”

“We should.” Elena smiled.

Celeste’s house was not far from the beach, but several bottles of cider each later it felt like a trek up Mount Everest. Both Celeste and Elena were leaning heavily on each other and were barely upright. Celeste giggled as they both stumbled into a wall and Elena shushed her with a finger on her lips.

“I’ll call you every day.” Celeste said.

“You better else I’ll assume something terrible has happened and mount a full scale manhunt.” Celeste started laughing but paused when Elena did not join in. Celeste frowned.

“Wait. You’re not serious, right?”

“You’re too easy, oh my gosh.” Elena ruffled Celeste’s hair and laughed. Celeste looked up the street to her house. Neither of them said anything for the rest of the walk until they stopped outside of Celeste’s front door.

“I like your hair.” Elena twirled a piece of Celeste’s hair around her finger. The fire had dried it off for the most part so it sat a frizzy mess around Celeste’s head. They stood just far enough from the door that they wouldn’t trigger the outdoor light to turn on. 

“I like your eyes.”

[marmolady]

September WIP dump!

I’ve got a lot in progress (not even gonna count, lol), some fics that I’ve been working on for months on-and-off. I’ve got a bunch not previewed here (these are just the two furthest along), so if you’re not sick of me posting this crap yet, you soon will be!

Most excitingly; first Vaanu-ending fic! It’ll likely be in three parts.

The five years had been eventful. Seeing to it that Everett Rourke was brought to justice through the courts, whilst simultaneously working to clear Jake and Mike’s names had been all-consuming, making Estela’s completion of her degree an uphill struggle. But she did it. The hard part came when the dust settled, when all of a sudden there was time to reflect, to bask in grief. The part where Estela should have had her happy ending. If only her happy ending hadn’t been stolen away, ripped from her arms and catapulted to the stars, forever out of reach. She should have felt satisfaction. Rourke was answering for his crimes; he’d never see the light of day again. It just… didn’t feel like winning. Not without… her.

“Estelita! You’re ready? If we leave soon, we might miss the traffic.”

“Coming, Tio!”

She wasn’t ready. She never was. So accustomed she was to keeping her emotions behind walls, guarded from outsiders, returning to La Huerta, to face the inevitable tsunami of love and joy and despair, was taxing. Some years were better than others. The first had been hell. She loved her friends, utterly… more than she knew how to ever show them, but together on La Huerta, the gaping wound in their group would be inescapable.

And I’m bringing little Liv out again for another snippety thing, because I CAN. Including her first meeting with Tio Diego... I’ve actually gotta draw the two of them together sometime...

A hand to his mouth and eyes wide, Diego was struck by recognition; that tiny person in his friend’s arms… he’d helped make that person. The baby was about the size of a loaf of bread, her face creased as if she were burdened with all the worries of the world, her hair was dark, thick and fuzzy. “Ohmy… hi... oh my god…”

Taylor laughed and tugged him forward. “Livi, meet Tio Diego. Diego, this is the pretty little munchkin that I pulled out of my wife.”

“Wow. Wow, wow.” Tentatively, Diego reached out. “Can I… can I touch her?”

“Don’t worry,” Taylor said, “you won’t break her. I swear.”

Estela angled the baby so that Diego could get close. “If you do break her, I’ll snap you in half.” She giggled, delirious from lack of sleep, as he recoiled slightly. “Relax! I’m kidding… mostly. Here, you wanna hold her?”

Diego held out his hands and closed his eyes.

“Uh, Diego? Might want to have them open for this…” Taylor laughed. She adjusted his hands. “Liiiiike that, so you’ve got her neck supported, and then just hold her close to your chest.”

@greengroove

[swissmissing]

Fan Fic Ask Meme (self ask edition)

  I saw this going around and I figured no one is going to actually respond and send me any of these asks because I have like maybe 2 followers who ever interact with me, but I felt like doing it so I’ll just ask myself all of them. :)

A: How did you come up with the title to "The Best Picture of the Human Soul”?

I wanted an artsy-intellectual title because I felt like it’s a kind of pretentious little story that takes itselt too seriously. It’s about images and soulmates, so I googled picture, soul, and quote, and that’s one of the hits that came up. So it is actually a quote by the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein: “The human body is the best picture of the human soul.”

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

Probably all of them. But the one where I consciously put in something from a real-life experience was in “A Capacity for Love” (HP fandom fic). I don’t want to go into detail, but there are characters in the story whose experiences and actions were based on things I had knowledge of in real life.

C: What member do you identify with most?

I am guessing this means which character I identify with most, from the stories I’ve written? Hermione Granger, definitely. From the Sherlock fandom, probably Molly. But I don’t find her an interesting character to write about.

D: Is there a song or a playlist to associate with [insert fic]?

No, I am not into music in that way.

E: If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it be about?

The most obvious one of my fics to get a sequel would be “The Way to a Man’s Heart” which would naturally be about Sherlock and John’s wedding.

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Nothing specifically comes to mind and I’ve written too many stories to go back through them all and find anything. I think I’m pretty good at dialogue in general and enjoy writing it more than the prose in between. When I write dialogue, I really try to hear the characters/actors saying the words, with inflection and volume changes and speech patterns all of that. I think that makes it work well and feel real, rather than just me putting my own thoughts into the characters’ mouths.

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Mostly from start to finish, but I usually have one or two key scenes that I may jump ahead and write because I want to capture them in the moment. But the problem is, I will always end up having to rewrite them anyway because there are details that come up as I write that I hadn’t anticipated, that will need to be worked in.

H: How would you describe your style?

I have no idea. Probably too wordy.

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

For reading, really raunchy PWP. And I suppose for writing as well. I do feel some residual puritanical guilt when I write a PWP.

J: Write or describe an alternative ending to [insert fic].

I’ve seen other authors say they don’t want to answer this because they don’t think it’s fair or something, which I don’t understand. Why not? Anyway, an alternate ending for “Revenge Averted”, which is itself an alternate ending of VizardMask’s fic “Best Served Hot”, would be that Sherlock and John come up with a plan to neutralize the threat from Mary without John having to go back to her.

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

Sticking to the ones I’ve actually written, probably “A Capacity for Love”, which shows the aftermath of Snape raping Hermione from both of their perspectives. Usually we only see things from the victim’s perspective in those kinds of stories, but I wanted to get into Snape’s head as well. In the Sherlock fandom, I guess “More Earth Than Fire”, which deals with the death of John and Mary’s baby.

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

It’s constant. I never just write a whole first draft, then go back and revise. I re-read and revise every single sentence constantly. Like even writing this entry, I have already gone back through all of my previous responses a couple of times, re-reading and adjusting things. I’ll write a few sentences, then re-read everything from the beginning. Then write a couple more. It makes for extremely slow progress but it’s how my brain works. I can’t leave something untended.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

I have a couple of things that I’ve started that I’ll probably never finish. The one that’s furthest along is a Sherlock/Whisky Tango Foxtrot crossover. I also have an ACD werewolf fic that I started years ago for some Halloween exchange that’s pretty far along. I have probably around 10 other stories as well, in stages from vaguely sketched out to fully outlined to having a couple of scenes written.

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

All of my WIP’s! Probably especially the WTF crossover. I really want to read that one. ;)

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters?

I mean, if it’s a fic, then the characters obviously. They are already a given. I’m going to write about Sherlock and John (or whoever my current muse pairing is). I have some original story ideas too, and there it’s the plot that comes first. I have a harder time coming up with original characters, so it’s unlikely I’ll ever write one of those stories.

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an “architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

I like to plot out the entire story before I start writing so that I’m sure I won’t get stuck anywhere. Of course then as I write, things happen that necessitate adjustments to the outline. But yeah, mainly architect because my biggest fear when writing is getting stuck.

Q: How do you feel about collaborations?

I have seen some really brilliant products come out of collaborative writing projects, so clearly some people work really well that way. However, I don’t think I could ever be part of a collaboration, other than as a beta reader.

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

Every time I read a text, it influences me. I don’t have anyone whose style I consciously attempt to emulate, or who I aspire to be like, though.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

For reading? All the favs: Fake relationship, only one bed, roommates.

For writing, I have a soft spot for being in a relationship already without realizing it.

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

When I see Coffee Shop AU or Teen AU in the tags of a fic, it turns me off. Although I’ve read quite a few really good ones in those categories, so it’s not like they’re an automatic nope. Just, they make me wary.

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

There are too many to name and I don’t want anyone to feel left out. But basically, there are certain authors who I know will always deliver top-quality writing and a highly satisfactory reading experience, regardless of subject matter, fandom, genre, or pairing.

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Too hard to choose a specific one. Basically anything by any of those authors referenced in the previous question!

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

I have a hard time writing to prompts given by other people. So I guess I prefer general ones that I can take in my own direction rather than a tailor-made commission.

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

Sherlock and John both do it so beautifully. :)

Y: A character you want to protect.

Children, I guess. I have a hard time seeing a child character be hurt.

Z: Major character death–do you ever write/read it? Is there a character whose death you can’t tolerate?

I am okay with it if it is a natural death, such as occurs in retirement fic. I don’t see the point of it in other situations. The whole point of reading fan fiction for me is to have a happier conclusion than in the original.

Anyone who wants to do the thing, feel free to copy and share your own answers! And of course, if anyone wants to ask me one of these about another fic than the ones I chose, please do. :)

[quilloftheclouds]

WIP Tag Game!

Whoot whoot, more tag games! (I’m sorry guys these are just so fun and are so easy to procrastinate with. ^^’)

Thanks for the tag from @kidsarentallwrite! My apologies for how long this took to answer, and I’ll certainly get to the other tags, soon! 

I’ll be doing this with One Siren’s Soul, since that’s really the only wip I’m working on at the moment! (Be aware this is somewhat long, since I had quite a bit of fun with the answers.)

1. When starting something new, how much do you know about the story before you start writing?

With previous wips I would normally outline by going... this happens at the start, these major events have to happen at... some point, and the ending? I have no idea, I’ll figure that out when I get there. Honestly though, that was my philosophy for the entire story. I’ll figure it out when I get there, sprinkled in with a few major plot ideas and a somewhat planned out setting and characters.

Now, for OSS, something entirely different: I. Outlined. The. Entire. Thing. Chapter by chapter. I give about a sentence or two for each PoV, with longer parts for major plot events. Still, a lot of room is left for improvisation and new discoveries as I write. (And yet, the outline has changed dramatically since I started writing.) Overall, the outline as it is now for OSS book 1 is about 7 google doc pages at 11 size font. I know all of the characters extremely well (considering they were previous original characters of mine), and the setting is... ennnghhhh, I’m still in the process of researching. I’ll work on historical accuracy later.

2. What draws you to your WIP(s)? Why did you choose to write that/those over anything else?

The ocean. Yep. Short and sweet. I grew up by the ocean, I literally chose my university because it was by the ocean. I can’t live without the ocean.

I mean, I also really like pirates and action-y movies, and I love attempting to shift that into writing. Writing monstrous non-human characters (my siren children!) is also pretty darn neat.

The main reason, though? The characters. They’re so much fun, there are so many twists in their backstories and their motives, I just... really want to share their existence with other people.

3. Favourite writing spot? Why?

I don’t really write anywhere else but my bedroom desk. This may be because I am lazy, or possibly because it’s really the only private, quiet place I can go around here (without it being too cold since it’s still winter here).

4. Share your favourite line of what you’ve written so far! (Oh stars so many spoilers)

A clang of metal against metal resonated through the wood. I jolted, my eye wide.

Something was happening on the top deck. The noise was almost drowned out by the sea, but I could catch the edges of it if I listened. I held my breath.

The sound rang out again, a clangor of screeching, things whistling through the air, shouts and yells.

The clash of blades.

A gunshot.

I needed to get up there.

5. If you had to choose one OC to bring to life as an actual person, which one would it be and why?

HmmmmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMM. This is. Hard. I would say Colin because he’s the nicest and probably the only one that wouldn’t kill me immediately. (Also we have a lot in common.)

6. Are you looking to get published? If so, do you hope to make it a career?

I have honestly no idea. This is the first wip that I’ve actually made a good attempt at writing (and hopefully finishing!) so we’ll have to see when I get further along. If I were to get published, writing would most certainly not be my career. I’m too much of a science nerd. Plus, moneys. And time.

7. What’s something you would read but would never write (or the other way around)? Any reason?

High fantasy! I really, really love reading it, but for some reason... I just. Don’t think I would enjoy writing it? I’m not entirely certain why, but perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I have a lot of trouble not getting carried away with world building so much that I just... fail to write anything.

8. What’s something you are most proud of about your work so far?

Honestly? That I’ve come so far. And I know, I know it’s not that far, I’m only about halfway through the first draft. But that’s the furthest I’ve ever been in a writing project! It exists! I’ll go back and read sometimes when I’m bored and I just... can’t believe I actually wrote that! I did!

9. Badly describe your WIP(s) in one sentence

Magic thingies are stolen from magic people and someone gets accidentally cursed--now the magic people and the non-magic sailors have to work together to fix everything.

10. Why did you want to be a writer?

How does one... answer this question? Hm. I think it was because... I always have such marvelous worlds and people and adventures in my head. But other people can’t see what’s in my head. (At least, I hope not.) And sometimes I’d love to share them, to be able to enjoy them with other people!

I’ve tried many different ways of conveying these stories to others: drawings, comics, music, acting... but nothing seemed to suit my skillset as well as writing did. I read so much when I was younger and wrote so much that it became, well, the easiest, most enjoyable of the bunch!

Taggin’ taggin’ time: @alinakerrin @inexorableblob and @bookish-actor!

If you’re curious about the wip I was talking about, check out the main page of One Siren’s Soul here!

[tirashouldbewriting]

11/11/11

thanks so much @millionsoftea for tagging me :)))

1. How do you feel about writing diversity?

I always aim to write diverse characters because representation is sooo important, whether it’s poc, lgbtq+ rep or strong female characters, I will always strive to make sure my wips are full of diverse characters

2. Remember that one WIP that's unnamed? Quick, give it a name!

I actually have names for all my current wips

3. How do you keep yourself accountable for keeping writing goals?

Badly

4. What would be a good crossover with your WIP?

Hm that’s hard, if we’re going with Kindling I think it would be interesting to see how my kids would interact with some mainstream superheroes like the avengers, that would be majorly badass — but bad for eriks self esteem

5. Which of your characters will the fandom misinterpret the most and why?

Hm, I feel like people could just instantly label Gabe as a ‘typical white bad boi’ but he’s a lot more than that

6. Did you eliminate any characters from your original cast? Did you kill any?

Not in Kindling, in Gingerbread I had to combine two semi characters to create Tavia

7. Kill, kiss, marry with OCs that start with A, J and S (don’t have any) N

A- Ashfall

J- Jai

N- Nona

I’d kiss Ash because he’s supposed to be a great kisser and he’s just a sweet beautiful guy. It would be an epic experience. I’d have to marry Nona because she’s gorgeous and courageous and I can’t help but adore her, I feel like she’d be a fun wife, nervous and jumpy but she’s so caring I feel like we’d get along well. And...sadly I’ll have to kill Jai, simply because he’s an awful kisser and staggeringly idiotic. Sorryyyyy

8. Is there anything unusual that gives you motivation?

Hmmm, I really get motivated by music but honestly...spite, if people tell me that I can’t do something then I become wayyy too motivated trying to prove them wrong

10. What was the best scene you've written so far?

Hmm, I just wrote a romantic scene which was prettyyyy fun, no spoilers tho

11. Which of your characters has surprised you the most since writing your WIP?

June 100%, She practically writes herself

—-

I want to tag @theforgottencoolkid @the-ichor-of-ruination @lofnes @augi-goes-writing @thekeyten @anzwrites @maskedlady @vampireboyfrlend @drowsy-quill @esoteric-eclectic-eccentric

Here’s your 11 questions

1. If your wip could be turned into a movie who would you want to direct it?

2. What’s your favourite writing snack?

3. What’s your favourite trope?

4. Favourite line you’ve ever written?

5. Do you have any AU’s for your ocs?

6. What’s your favourite writing song at the moment?

7. Which of your OC’s is the furthest from your personality?

8. If another writer could write your WIP who would you choose?

9. What’s a fun fact about your world/characters?

10. What common writing tip makes you roll your eyes?

11. Which of your ocs would you most like to be?

[smokedstorybara]

WIP Priority List

August 2019

10. Grey - a comic about an autistic boy who gains superpowers and decides to become a superhero(I plan for there to eventually be spin-off comics about the other heroes he meets) - still higher priority than any wips not on this list, but the complete lack of plot makes working on it difficult so...

9. Eternity and Forever - a three part comic about the goddess of carnage and destruction’s plan to destroy all life on earth and those trying to stop her(she’snot the main character but each part has a different main character and the same villain)- I have no idea how long any of the parts are likely to run so I’m somehow putting it off and working on it at the same time

8. Mythicals - six kids in different parts of the world each find an artifact that gives them a magical transformation and powers, years later they all meet at a performing arts school in New York and team up to protect the world - mostly just at this exact spot cause it’s not a drain like the two above but not as important to me as those below

7. Kings - Bandit King Vakhtang joins a rebellion, headed by a young man prophesied to be the next king of their country, because he’s perpetually unsatisfied with life and because the boy offered to pay, they end up teaching each other valuable life lessons - practically interchangeable with Sisa, actually, just that one takes place earlier chronologically

6. Sisa - secluded and lonely king Tupakusi sneaks out of the palace to finally meet his people and makes some distressing discoveries; at the same time, young thief Viper sneaks into the palace to be the first to steal from it and find something he maybe shouldn’t have - yeah

5. Consequences - a college student from our world is transported to another and finds themself physically changed, they set off on a quest to find a way back to their own world and their original shape and happen to learn some things about themself along the way - my One True fantasy story, only one not set in a dubious parallel to our world, so I’m equal parts looking forward to writing the whole fantastical setting and terrified

4. The Completely Unrelated Adventures of Four People Who Had Nothing to do With Each Other Beforehand - four teenagers in a small town in Texas discover that magic is real and that all four of them have it, over the years they get caught up in a dangerous race between two secret organizations for something known only as The Artifact - this is, like, my most Iconic story in title alone, one of the most exciting to write entirely by virtue of the pov character, and the one I’m actually furthest in writing

3. Vagabond Baron - a collection of stories following the life of Konstantin Panotnik as he gains a Barony, gets married, and becomes a national hero - very important to me because I’m drawing from my own disabilities for the main character and also because of how I’m doing the main romance(of course I’m also a little worried about handling either or both of those things wrong but since I’m, again, drawing from my own experiences, it’s not as much of a concern as some of the other things I’m writing)

2. Angel - Angel Prince, in the middle of an internal struggle between identity and religion, discovers a terrible secret and decides they must take action, even if it might tear their family apart - is this far in the list because it pulls the most from real current events, so it feels a little more urgent if I want it to be the social commentary most my wips secretly(or not-so-secretly, depending) are

1. Shadow Warriors - every year, all the twelve year olds in a small mountain town are sent up into a certain mountain for the dragon who lives there to choose a number of them to stay with him and learn his ways, to help him as he gradually loses strength from curse laid on him while he protected the town from an invading army - this story has existed since I was, like, twelve and is literally my oldest story, so it feels only fair to give it top priority