#wip:snippet

[indestructibleheart]

Thanks to several people for the tag, including @myheartalivewrites, @piratefalls, @kiwiana-writes, and a few more included below the cut because Tumblr is an asshole and STILL won't allow more than a few tags in a single line. I wish this website a very merry fuck you.

This week, you are getting a very silly snippet of text messages from my canon divergence coffee shop run-in. Pay no attention to the fact that I haven't named the coffee shop just yet lmfao. #Priorities.

11:12 a.m. guys you won't fucking believe who just walked into [name of coffee shop] irl chaos demon 11:13 a.m. carmen electra  BUG 11:13 a.m. Barack Obama irl chaos demon 11:13 a.m. Mitch McConnell eating a banana BUG 11:13 a.m. Reese Witherspoon, but specifically as Elle Woods irl chaos demon 11:13 a.m. the ghost of alexander hamilton BUG 11:14 a.m. Nicholas Cage carrying the Declaration of Independence 11:14 a.m. are you done irl chaos demon 11:14 a.m. shirtless jeff goldblum

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, 

@firenati0n, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, 

@hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, 

@kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, 

@myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, 

@notspecialbabe, @orchidscript, @piratefalls, 

@priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @three-drink-amy, 

@treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, 

@orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stellarm, 

@stereopticons

[indestructibleheart]

Tagged by @stellarm, @welcometololaland, @kiwiana-writes, plus a few others tagged below because apparently I still can't tag more than three people in one line. Fuck you, Tumblr. 🙄

Remember when I said I needed to start small and do a couple prompt fills to get myself in the swing of writing again before I actually try to tackle my unwieldy list of WIPs? Well.

Here are seven sentences from that effort:

"I've got an Earl Grey—"  Like Pavlov's bell, the words pierce through Alex's hyperfocus to ring loudly in his ears, but he doesn't let himself look up until: "—for… Henry?" But it's not going to be him.  His Royal Highness, Prince Henry of too many names (and Wales), is not ordering tea at a tiny coffee shop in Brooklyn, New York. [...]  Sure, it's weird that whoever-this-is shares a name and tea order as Alex's whatever-they-could've-been, but Alex is sure he's just some middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a briefcase. Alex is so sure, all the way up to the moment when—for the first time in over six years—he catches the blue-eyed gaze of the goddamn James Bond offspring that slipped Alex the tongue and ghosted him on New Year's Eve.

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise,

@firenati0n, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf,

@hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar,

@junebugclaremontdiaz, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious,

@mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied,

@nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @orchidscript,

@piratefalls, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes,

@three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00,

@welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail,

@stellarm, @stereopticons

[indestructibleheart]

Thank you @stereopticons, @kiwiana-writes, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @three-drink-amy, @cha-melodius, @maxbegone, and @cricketnationrise for the tags!

I've been struggling lately. I've got two projects that are this 🤏 close to being done (probably), and my brain has completely stalled on them... Also, y'know, what can I say? The depression do be depressing lately. SO. I'm sharing a completely out of context snippet from my (loose) The Magicians AU because I do really want to get back into it.

I did not write it this week, or even this month. I actually think I wrote it at the end of last year, lol. AND it's more than seven sentences. So, clearly, I am considering the supposed ~rules of this game to be optional, lmao. Either way, here you go:

Henry's lips taste like salt. Alex pulls back slowly, regrettably, only to find a wet trail from Henry's ocean eyes to his lips. Henry looks away as his hands drop from Alex's hair, but then Alex's hands are the ones on Henry's face, carefully brushing the tears away with his thumb. "Sweetheart," he breathes. "What's going on?" Henry shakes his head. "We almost lost you," he says, voice coming out a bit louder than Alex would've expected. "Alex, I almost lost you." "Okay, I already got an earful from Nora. I don't need—" "—This isn't about what you need." Henry says it with such impressive force that Alex shuts his mouth with an audible clank of his teeth. "Besides, I think you do need to hear it." He swallows. Hard. "And I need to say it."

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @cha-melodius, @firenati0n, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @itsmaybitheway, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

[indestructibleheart]

Y'all... I know this is truly shocking, but I have worbs. Thank you to @hippolotamus for the tag!

As you know, it's been a struggle the last couple of months for many reasons, and my ability to focus on fic was the first thing to go. But, as of this week, I'm back to being medicated, caffeinated to high heaven, and getting my shit together one piece at a time.

I decided to work on my Dead Boy Detectives AU this weekend, hoping to finish it for Halloween. The jury is still out on the timing, but I'm happy to report that the ending is done.

...Now, I just need the plot. 😅

Anyway, here's seven nine sentences:

"You'll make a great Dead Boy Detective." As Henry's blood roars in his ears (metaphorically), Nora smiles. "That's a terrible name," she says. Alex nudges her. "We'll workshop it." And that's it. Henry shoves his chair away from the desk and stands up; the loud scrape of the hardwood surprises them, if the way they both jump is any indication. "Will we, now?" he asks. "Does the founding member of this business get a say, or shall I give you both the room to continue flirting about it?"

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, 

@firenati0n, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, 

@hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, 

@kiwiana-writes, @lilythesilly, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, 

@missgeevious, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, 

@nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @orchidscript,

@piratefalls, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, 

@three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, 

@welcometololaland, @ships-to-sail, @stellarm, 

@stereopticons

[indestructibleheart]

Y'all, I actually have words this week. It's a miracle in July.

Thank you to everyone who continued to tag me the last few weeks, despite my persistent absence, but especially thank you to @cha-melodius and @hippolotamus for tagging me today. ❤️

(Thanks to one frighteningly long sentence, this is exactly seven sentences. Look at me go.)

Anger is much simpler. Anger, Alex has learned, can be molded into a shield—just ask his father, or anyone who saw his rivalry with Henry before the cake fiasco. Pain, on the other hand… Alex only knows how to bury that beneath sharper, louder feelings like the burn of whiskey down his throat, or labored gasps from his lungs; it's not as noticeable next to the blistering of his heels in his tennis shoes, or the ache of his neck and tired eyes when he throws himself into work. Anger is something he can burn until it runs out. It's why his feelings for Henry—once all consuming—are now flickering embers at his feet. If he'd let himself linger on the pain the same way, Alex would've been the thing to burn out.

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, 

@firenati0n, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, 

@hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, 

@kiwiana-writes, @lilythesilly, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, 

@missgeevious, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, 

@nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @orchidscript,

@piratefalls, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, 

@three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, 

@welcometololaland, @ships-to-sail, @stellarm, 

@stereopticons

[indestructibleheart]

Tagged by @cha-melodius and @priincebutt! 🥰

I'm pretty sure I've complained publicly about this obnoxious phenomenon that's been plaguing me for almost a year: I can write a fic until I've got two or three scenes left to finish, and then my brain refuses to go any further with it. I just get stuck.

And I don't know what it is... but it's so fucking annoying and I'm about to start biting people at this point.

This one particular fic is, to quote @rmd-writes, "a conversation and a kiss away from being done," but it hasn't budged more than a handful of words in like a month. I'm hoping that, if I share some it, something in my brain will come back online.

Here goes:

"Your country doesn't make Cornettos," Henry continues, "but the fellow at the supermarket recommended something called 'Drumsticks'?" He scrunches his nose. "They were not even remotely comparable, but… Then, I remembered another recommendation…" With that, Henry pulls open the freezer and Alex immediately clocks the yellow box of paletas in the drawer. "Dude, these were my entire fucking childhood," he says, immediately snatching the box and fishing out a coconut bar. "When did I…? I don't even remember talking about…" Henry chuckles, politely taking the box and selecting one of the strawberry ones.  "Christmas," he explains. "You mentioned Helados when you rang me at Christmas. I was walking aimlessly down the freezer aisle when I first arrived in the city, and…" "And you just happened to remember some random brand of ice cream I mentioned?" Henry's answering smile seems sad.  "Alex," he says, achingly sincere. "I remember everything."

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, 

@firenati0n, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, 

@hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, 

@kiwiana-writes, @lilythesilly, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, 

@missgeevious, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, 

@nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @orchidscript,

@piratefalls, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, 

@three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, 

@welcometololaland, @ships-to-sail, @stellarm, 

@stereopticons

[indestructibleheart]

Hi, fam! Okay, so I'm going to be out at an appointment tomorrow morning, so I'm kicking this off a little bit early. It's technically Wednesday in several timezones and very nearly Wednesday in mine. I'm... also a bit eager to share this, ngl.

I know that I've shared a lot of angst lately, but I swear that's not all I'm doing. 😅 In fact, the actor/playwright AU decided to wallop me in the face out of nowhere after sitting in my WIP folder for months. I'm really excited about it, so I'm gonna share the first scene!

(Also, those of you who have been to New York with me will recognize my favorite brunch spot in this scene lmao.)

---

You probably didn't even know I was in the room, but I noticed you straight away. You were talking with your friends, happy and animated and fully alive—a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access—and so beautiful. Your hair was longer then. You were the center of attention, but you weren’t afraid. You had a yellow ipê-amarelo in your pocket. I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen; I'd better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.

INT. MOM'S KITCHEN & BAR - HELL'S KITCHEN - LATE MORNING

"I'm telling y'all," Alex is saying, punctuating with dangerously large bites of his pancake burrito. "The dude's a dick." 

It's been two hours since the nightmare audition, but Alex has been on this tirade since June and Nora first slid into the retro diner chairs across from him (at least forty-five minutes ago).

They're at Mom's: a restaurant-bar in midtown that can only be described as millennial nostalgia incarnate. The trio fell in love with it two years back—post-karaoke, stumbling in right before closing—when Alex saw God in their Fruity Pebble pancakes.  Since then, it's been his favorite place to eat his feelings.

Mom's is just really fucking comforting in general, honestly; whether it's the televisions cycling through episodes of 'Rugrats,' 'Dexter's Laboratory,' and 'Hey, Arnold!' or  the rainbow straws and Lisa-Frank-looking menus, Alex can't be sure. It doesn't hurt that they've made friends with several of the waitstaff, including an eccentric bartender, Pez, whose pink hair and painted nails fit right in with the decor. 

Today, it's the combination of breakfast sausage, bacon, eggs and cheese wrapped up in a syrup-soaked pancake that's really doing something for him. It could also be the margarita the size of his face, which Pez placed in front of him before making himself uncharacteristically scarce. But it's fine. He's probably just busy.

Alex won't admit it out loud, but what really helps is having June and Nora here to talk to… even though Nora is scrolling on her phone.

"I'm sorry," June says. She pokes an ice cube with her straw, and Alex watches as it bobs around her mimosa like a buoy. "That sounds like it sucked, but if he's really that rude… maybe you didn't want to work with him anyway."

Nora doesn't look up as she pops a home fry into her mouth. 

"Several sources say he's difficult to work with," she adds, evidently reading about Henry on the internet. "Though, in his defense, his dad did just die, like, three years ago… and there was that whole thing when he came out after. Remember?"

Alex does remember. Henry's grandmother, Mary Mountchristen, runs a pretty major company that used to own half the theatres on the West End. When Henry came out last year, she tried blacklisting his shows from her properties to punish him—which totally backfired when it got around. At least a dozen other queer writers and producers started talking about how they were also denied the space, and Mary was stoned on the streets of the theatre district. Like, metaphorically. 

Alex, Nora, and June had just moved to New York, but between June's position at Newsday and both Alex and Nora on the audition circuit, it was all anyone in their new circles could talk about. They were some of the first to know when the Mountchristens were bought out of their properties and Henry moved to the States.

This show is the first of Henry's being produced here—and it's autobiographical, which Alex has to admit is pretty fucking baller. So, yeah, Nora's not wrong. He has reason to be standoffish. Still, it doesn't explain why Alex was only halfway through his audition monologue when Henry abruptly stood up and exited stage left as if pursued by a bear.

He shoves another forkful into his mouth. "It's just, like, they're the only people who let me into the room," he says, barely finishing chewing. "Nobody wants to take me seriously, and I really thought this was my shot, you know?"

June and Nora both know Alex is having a hard time landing serious roles after growing up on a sitcom—Nora more than most, as his former co-star. What they don't know is that losing this role, specifically, feels like a kick to the stomach. From the moment Alex saw the script, he wanted to be a part of it. He can't even explain why, and now he'll never figure it out. Henry wouldn't give him a chance.

"It wasn't your only shot, and you know it." Nora fixes him with a look. "Seriously, I get it—I do—but it's just one play, buddy."

June nods. "Something will happen for you, baby brother."

At that, Alex finally groans. "Okay, calling me baby brother doesn't help me feel better about the entertainment industry infantili—"

"—itty bitty, teeny weeny—"

Alex throws a home fry at her face. 

It bounces off her forehead and into the giant gauntlet holding her mimosa with a very unappetizing splash. Just as Alex throws his hands into the air with a victorious whoop, his phone buzzes on the table. 

A glance is all it takes for him to see that it's his agent, Zahra.

"Damn," he says, deflating. There goes that upswing. "You answer it."

June balks. "Me?"

"I don't need to hear how fucking badly it went. Trust me, I got the message." Alex blinks innocently, like he's six years old again, asking her to lie to their mom about that broken vase. "Please, Bug? Besides, Zahra actually likes you."

"Everyone likes me." June rolls her eyes, but she caves—answering the phone with a haughty, "Alex Claremont-Diaz's office," before breaking into a smile. "Yeah, Z. It's me… No, Alex is feeling a little sensitive today."

(He throws another home fry at her. This one misses.)

To her credit, June's face remains totally blank as Zahra no doubt tells her how Alex insulted Henry Fox's name and all of his inbred ancestors just by showing up, or whatever—which is extremely annoying and unhelpful—but, once she says goodbye and sets the phone back down on the table, her face breaks out into a grin.

"Guess you didn't suck too bad," she says. "They want you for the part."

He doesn't know if it's Nora throwing herself at him or the shock that knocks him onto the floor.

Tagging some lovelies. If you haven't been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @barbiediaz, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

[indestructibleheart]

Tagged by @kiwiana-writes and @hippolotamus this week. ❤️

I haven't done a ton of writing between my freelance work ramping up and my mental health taking a spin in the garbage disposal. However, to quote one of my most beloveds this week: "writing is not coming easily but unfortunately it is also the only way I know how to feel good about myself so here we are persevering etc."

In that spirit, I am back with the same WIP from the last two weeks. My strategy is to spend my limited writing energy on one, smaller project in hopes that will be more conducive to finishing something.

It's just a couple more than seven sentences, lol.

"Alright," [Henry] says, reaching across the table to take Alex's notebook and the pen lying across it. "I am writing down an address to a brownstone here in Brooklyn. It's mine. If you type this code, it will buzz you in and Shaan will escort you up." He's given Alex so much to unpack, and yet… "You live in Brooklyn?" is what his brain shakes out through his mouth. "Is that even… legal?" Henry's lips twitch. "I haven't been banned from the States, insofar as I am aware."  "Not yet," Alex mumbles, and Henry fixes him with a meaningful look. It says, 'Not here.' 

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, 

@firenati0n, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, 

@hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, 

@kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, 

@myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, 

@notspecialbabe, @orchidscript, @piratefalls, 

@priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @three-drink-amy, 

@treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, 

@orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stellarm, 

@stereopticons

[indestructibleheart]

Happy Wednesday! Thanks to @firenati0n, @thesleepyskipper, @myheartalivewrites, and @priincebutt for the tags. ❤️

This week and next are extremely busy for me, so I haven't had a ton of mental energy to write, but I did get a little bit down this weekend. Here's a piece from the same WIP I shared last week:

After a moment, Henry asks, "How have you been?" politely enough despite his voice cracking around it. "How's June?" "June is killing it, obviously," Alex says, but doesn't elaborate. He does not tell Henry that June found a way to write about issues that matter despite (maybe even enriched by) her status as a former First Daughter, writing news and lifestyle pieces for Teen Vogue. He also doesn't mention that her status as a style icon has only increased in the years since.  Alex also decidedly ignores Henry's first question. If he'd really cared to know, he could've called— texted, even, sent an email, a smoke signal, anything—at any point over the last half-a-decade. Instead, he volleys: "How's Bea?"

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise,

@guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus,

@inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @kiwiana-writes

@lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @myheartalivewrites,

@ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe,

@orchidscript, @piratefalls, @priincebutt,

@rmd-writes, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4,

@vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript,

@ships-to-sail, @stellarm, @stereopticons

[indestructibleheart]

Happy Wednesday, friends! We've made it halfway through the week (kicking and screaming, in my case—idk about y'all). Shout out to my beloved @kiwiana-writes for the tag. ❤️

Here is another piece of my 'Dead Boy Detectives' AU:

"I cannot believe you asked her to stay."  Alex sighs—more like petulantly huffs—and throws his arms out to his sides. "What was I supposed to do, Henry?" he asks. "Throw her out on her ass? She has nowhere to go. Nora doesn't even remember who she is." "And while I'm certain you'd love to be the hero and help sort it all out," Henry blurts, "we can't carelessly invite a living person into our business on a whim just because you fancy her!"  From the look on Alex's face, the blow landed in the center of his chest. Henry did always have a stellar aim. "Wow." Henry sighs. "Alex, I—" He cuts himself off before he apologizes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, we must be careful, all right? You know we can't go about making waves, and the living… Well, they're messy." "Messy," Alex echoes, then wets his lips. "That's a pretty flimsy excuse." "An excuse?" Henry balks. "What ever for?" Alex steps right into his space, his defiance seeming to erase the few inches Henry has on his height. He's so imposing when he gets like this—shoulders rolled back and his jaw set—and it is truly, painfully attractive, even (perhaps especially) when that contempt is directed at him. If Henry had a functioning heart, he's certain it'd be hammering at an alarming rate now. Yet, blissfully unaware, Alex jabs his index finger at Henry's chest. "You," he declares sharply, "are jealous."

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @barbiediaz @cha-melodius,

@cricketnationrise, @firenati0n, @guillermosfamiliar,

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine,

@itsmaybitheway, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz,

@lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully,

@myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes,

@notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes,

@rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4,

@vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript,

@ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

[indestructibleheart]

I was tagged by the incredible @cricketnationrise, @ninzied, @cha-melodius, @kiwiana-writes, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and @stellarm this week. Thank you, beloveds!

Like my Inspiration Saturday for this same fic yesterday, this is one of those things that you will know if you know... You know?

Here are several sentences I wrote yesterday:

"Well, thanks for getting David out of me." Nora pulls a band from her wrist and wraps her curls into a bun atop her head; a few too-short ringlets slip from her fingers and fall to frame her face. "Too bad you can't do anything about the taste of raw fish inside my mouth." Alex blinks several times, long lashes fluttering like those of a baffled cartoon. "Wait," he says flatly. "You're telling me that the horrifying and powerful demon that was possessing you… is named… David?" "Mmm-hm." Nora grins crookedly and tucks her hair behind her ear. "Menacing, right?" "Yeah, I'm quaking in my boots, sweetheart." Alex snorts. "What, was he your fucking tax attorney, too?" Nora laughs loudly in response, the force of it throwing her head back. Henry turns to the file in his hand, trying to ignore the clench in his stomach as Alex's gaze traces the length of her throat.

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @cha-melodius, @firenati0n,

@guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus,

@inexplicablymine, @itsmaybitheway, @jettestar,

@junebugclaremontdiaz, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious,

@mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @nontoxic-writes,

@notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes,

@rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4,

@vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript,

@ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

[indestructibleheart]

Thank you to @kiwiana-writes, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @three-drink-amy, @junebugclaremontdiaz and @itsmaybitheway for the tags!

My tags on MJ's snippet notwithstanding I'm sharing a snippet from our project that I wrote this morning. Apologies in advanced.

Alex, I’ve stared at this vile text box for what must be an inordinate amount of time, trying to decide how on earth to start this email—but it seems I ought to begin with the simple, universal truth that is the beginning (and perhaps even the end) of me: I love you, Alex. From the moment I wake, I think of you. I open my eyes and trace my fingers over the unruffled sheets on your side of our bed, which have long-since grown cold. I think of other mornings, on which I awoke to the sight of you sleeping peacefully. Your curls, unruly, spilled across the pillow, serving as the only reflection of your chaotic waking mind. You’re so beautiful, always, but it’s in those private moments, where everything is still, that I am reminded of what a privilege it is to know you the way that I do. 

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @firenati0n, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

[indestructibleheart]

Thank you @kiwiana-writes, @wordsofhoneydew, @cha-melodius, and @hgejfmw-hgejhsf for the tags... though, once again, I've done little writing outside of my drabbles so far this week. Work continues to kick my ass—it made me cry not once, but twice today.

So, yeah, we're doing great.

Anyway, this week's WIP Wednesday will be in the form of tweets from The Coma Fic™️. I'll be pausing it briefly to work on a Christmas project, so this might be the last you see of it for a minute:

BuzzFeed News ☑️ @ BuzzFeedNews ROYAL ALERT: Prince Henry of Wales was spotted in Washington today. Could he be visiting his BFF Alex Claremont-Diaz after yesterday’s runway incident? Catch up on their friendship timeline: bit.ly/2jp6sl 11:42 AM · 2 Sept 2020 Oliver Westbrook  ☑️ @ BillsBillsBills Anyone—in the GOP or otherwise—buying Richards’s performative sympathy for Ellen Claremont or the FSOTUS probably needs to hear this: the IRS isn’t texting you about your taxes. Don’t click that link. #FraudAwarenessWeek 4:38 PM · 4 Sept 2020 Julie Thompson @ drjthompson Look, all I’m saying is that nobody questioned Kennedy’s ability to run the country after losing his child. Or Roosevelt. Or Coolidge. Or Lincoln. If you’re questioning Claremont’s dedication to her duties while FSOTUS is in a coma… Your sexism is showing. 1:06 PM · 8 Sept 2020 m. @ hortonhears Sooo we gonna talk about how Prince Henry showed up in D.C. last week and legit hasn’t left the hospital once? Or we just gonna let that one go? 3:12 AM · 12 Sept 2020

Tagging some lovelies under the cut, even though it will only be Wednesday for 15 more minutes. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@blackandwhiteandrose, @cricketnationrise, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @lilythesilly, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @maxbegone, @myheartalivewrites, @nontoxic-writes, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons 🥰❤️

[indestructibleheart]

Tagged this week by my beloved @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @firenati0n, @three-drink-amy and @itsmaybitheway! Thanks, y'all!

Here's more-than-seven sentences from a fic I've briefly referenced before and recently renamed "texas hold 'em" for reasons:

His own sister crosses into his line of vision then, being lightly tugged by Nora. Their hands are clasped tightly, and Nora's hips are moving to the beat as she more-or-less dances (not walks) her way past him. "Aren't you going to join us, Henry?" Bea asks without coming to a stop. "I rather think you could dance circles around us all. Remember our classes?" Henry rolls his eyes as he bites back a smile. Unlike when Alex had asked, there is sarcasm there; the playful curve of her lips betrays the faux-genuine lilt of her voice.  "Nice try, you," he half-shouts after her, "Our waltz lessons certainly did not cover this." "Yes, well…" Bea continues trotting backwards towards the floor, hand wrapped around Nora's. "When in Rome!" she chirps, then properly turns to follow at full speed. As their dancing troupe grows by two, Henry can hear Alex and June singing along—more accurately, shouting along a melody—right in each other's faces. He can't quite make out the slurred jumble of words but June's arms are stretched into the air as Bea and Nora fold in to create a circle, and Alex… Well, Alex just looks radiant, lit up by the neon signs in the window. He's so bright, Henry has to look away, looking down into his gin and tonic before the color burns his eyes.

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @guillermosfamiliar, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

[indestructibleheart]

Thank you for the tag, @three-drink-amy!

I just got home from a much-needed vacation. On the way home, I ended up watching Castle on the flight and my brain started going WHIRRR while watching a particular episode. After a conversation with @lilythesilly... this happened:

It's only five in the morning when Alex walks into the New York field office, only to find it's already been thrown into total chaos.  Phones are ringing in nearly every cubicle. His fellow agents are gathered around their computers in clumps, probably squinting at blurry street-cam footage. The director is talking emphatically with her deputy behind the glass doors of her office—which are, regrettably, fairly soundproof. Worse: on the television screen along the back wall, a news report is playing on mute like a twisted backdrop.  "HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, PRINCE HENRY (29), FOUND DEAD IN NEW YORK CITY"—on a red banner across the bottom third—is a much tamer description than what Alex had gotten on this morning's briefing with Deputy Director Bankston… but, he guesses "The Prince of Fucking England: Bludgeoned to Death on American Soil" wouldn't pass the SMELL test. He accidentally makes eye contact with her through the glass. Before he can pretend he didn't, she points and motions for him to come upstairs. It's a gesture he only sees on his worst days. And, you know… His nightmares.

I will offer you only two pieces of context: This is not actually a Castle AU, and things are not what they seem.

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, 

@firenati0n, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, 

@hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, 

@kiwiana-writes, @lilythesilly, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, 

@missgeevious, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, 

@nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @orchidscript,

@piratefalls, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, 

@three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, 

@welcometololaland, @ships-to-sail, @stellarm, 

@stereopticons

[indestructibleheart]

Thank you for the tag, @kiwiana-writes!

Back in September, @b13-maybethistime suggested a canon divergence based on a certain episode of a certain wee-woo show that I don't even watch anymore... but something about it spoke to me. It promptly got a playlist, but I got distracted by trying to finish my The Magicians AU. Out of nowhere, it started writing itself in my head at 2am this morning and I wrote the following in my Notes app:

The news of Alex’s accident is delivered to Henry through a muted television.  By this point, his ex smiling at him through the static of passing screens isn’t unusual. It hasn’t gotten any less painful, of course — the longing to return to the lake house only claws the chasm in his chest open wider, in fact — but he’s gotten used to the sensation. He’s entirely prepared to tell [whoever] to change the channel to literally anything else, but the words across the bottom of the screen have him blurting a request that the volume be raised instead. “FSOTUS IN CRITICAL CONDITION” glares at him from the bottom of the screen, above a no-less-alarming sub-headline: “Alex Claremont-Diaz among three rushed to the hospital following accident on private airstrip.” The anchor describes the incident in such detail that it nearly makes Henry wish he’d left the report muted. Photos and short video clips flood the screen as she speaks, showing security camera footage, cell phone shots from onlookers, and professional photographs taken of the aftermath — apparently, a jet skidding across the runway into a vehicle makes quite the mess. Knowing that Alex was somewhere in that black SUV as it bent into a truly horrifying shape turns Henry’s stomach. When he looks to Shaan across the room, he’s already tapping away at his tablet. “I can get you there by half-past four.”

Tagging: @stereopticons, @this-is-bwr, @lilythesilly, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @maxbegone, and whoever else wants to play! Please tag me if you do!