#writers' iron chef 8

[prolix-yuy]

Writers Iron Chef #8: Falling Asleep

[PROMPT] Accidentally falling asleep together

[TIME LIMIT] Optional 10 minutes prep time, 30 minutes writing time, optional, 10 minutes editing time

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x GN!Reader

Rating: T, some suggestive themes, angsty fluff.

Summary: Words left unspoken come to a head...when there's only one bed.

Notes: Written for Writers' Iron Chef Prompt 8.

Oh no, not me trying to retcon a lived experience by making Frankie more emotionally mature than the dumb men I've crushed over before...

Enjoy a little sweetness, a little insecurity, and a whole lotta soft in this one!

The blood pounding in your ears must be audible to Frankie. It certainly is to you, all whooshing double thumps to the march of time. It’s barely been two minutes. You can do it. You can be okay with this.

The ski trip was something you’d been looking forward to for months. The boys hadn’t invited you in the past, which miffed you. When Santi realized you did ski, had been since you were old enough to walk, he was ecstatic. 

“Oh shit, we thought you weren’t into it! Yeah, totally, come this time! We rent a cabin and get shitfaced at the end of the day and eat way too much junk. It’s a great time.” You hastily agree. It would be an excellent time, snow under your skis, the cold bite of wind…and Frankie, who you had the most devastating crush on.

You thought he might have an inkling about your crush. You weren’t exactly subtle, but you weren’t throwing yourself at him either. However, he hadn’t made a move, and you hoped maybe this weekend in close quarters would tip the hand in your favor. A few drinks together, cuddled up on the couch. Maybe a wandering hand, a knowing look. That’s all it could take.

What you hadn’t anticipated was how much of a shit Santi would be.

“We’re short one bed. I couldn’t change the reservation,” he says, but with considerably less concern that you thought appropriate. If anything he’s practically beaming at you. You swear you’ll never tell him a secret again, no matter how much alcohol and longing loosens your tongue.

“Frankie, you’re the gentleman, why don’t you share?” Santi suggests. Frankie snorts out a laugh.

“I’ll share with you, pendejo,” he shoots back. Santi shakes his head.

“No way, I made the arrangements, I get a bed to myself.” He crosses his arms and winks surreptitiously at you. You fume under your polite smile. 

“Benny,” Frankie says but he makes up some excuse about flatulence. Will shoots Frankie a look that stops him from even trying.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” you offer, met with a chorus of negatives. Frankie offers the same, but his bad back wins that argument.

So now you’re here. In bed. With Frankie.

It was easier than you thought, sharing the queen bed. He’d asked you what side you wanted (the one closest to the window). You’d asked him if it was okay if you didn’t wear your pajama shorts under the covers (he grunted noncommittally, which you took as an affirmative). After arranging pillows and blankets for your dual comfort, Frankie turned out the light.

That was…three minutes ago now.

Fuck. You were never going to sleep. Not with solid, dependable, gentlemanly Frankie next to you, breathing slow and deep. Was he already asleep? You wished for that bliss.

This is exactly what you wanted, hoped for, but now that you’re here you’re terrified. Could you reach over and touch him? Would he be receptive? Or would he think you were looking for a grope under the sheets and nothing more? You couldn’t handle that. You’d need to tell him, ask him. Frankie was always kind to you. Hopefully he’d be that again. 

The darkness makes you bolder than in your daily life. Sitting up, you look at Frankie, his striking profile barely perceptible in the darkness.

“Frankie?” you whisper. 

“Hmm?”

That was quick. Not asleep apparently.

“I just…I need to ask you something. Or tell you something. I dunno,” you stammer out. Frankie is silent for a moment, then he rumbles out a tentative, “Okay.” You take a breath, willing your jaw and lips to move, to take the plunge.

“I don’t think it’s a secret that I like you. At least, I haven’t been trying to keep it a secret. I thought maybe you were interested too, but we haven’t really…addressed it. So, I guess, I’d like to know if you feel the same way.” Without thought, you twist the bed sheets into your fists. “If you don't, it's okay. I like being friends with you. I don’t want to stop being friends. But I’d like to know if you just want that, or if you want something more. So I know to stop thinking it might happen. It’s…it’s easier. For me. Just to know. I promise it’s okay, either way.”

The air lies thick with your words as you wait for Frankie to say something, anything. Finally you hear the scratch of his fingers in his beard, the slow inhale and exhale of him filling his lungs.

“I’m not sure what to say,” he finally whispers, and it both drops your stomach to the floor and lightens you in a peculiar way.

“That’s okay, Frankie. I understand,” you say. Your voice is remarkably strong. “Friends?” you add, holding your breath. You couldn’t stand it if this conversation drove him away from you.

“Yeah, definitely friends,” Frankie replies, but almost like an afterthought. You nod, a small lump in your throat forming then passing. You asked. Tomorrow the relief, the knowing, will feel less bitter.

“Goodnight Frankie,” you say, turning your back to him and curling up on your side. A peace that comes with revelation washes over you, and you start to drift off. 

Just as you’re on the edge of dreams, Frankie’s voice wakes you.

“Wha?” you slur out, Frankie’s deep voice saying your name again. “Y’okay?”

“Fuck, no I’m…shit. I’m sorry,” he says, and a hand blankets your shoulder, turning you on your back. In the dim light Frankie is hovering on one elbow above you, a frown barely visible on his full lips. 

“I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean that, at all. I fucking…shit, I…where’s your face?” he asks, his words jumbling over you. His fingers glance off your temple, dangerously close to your sleep-heavy eyes, before he cups your cheek.

You’re wide awake now, melting into his touch as his thumb caresses your skin.

“I do like you. I should have said it the moment you did, but I got too fucking nervous, just like every time I want to tell you, and blurted out that stupid thing and…fuck, let me kiss you, please,” he begs, and your fingers find his unruly bed head and draw him down to your lips.

The softness of your mouths together, sliding over your skin and exploring each other, lulls you both to sleep.

In the morning the boys will cheer when you walk out with a barely-contained smile and Frankie’s hand on your lower back.

END

LJ's Writers Iron Chef Masterlist

[thedeathwitchescats]

Okay, review time!! If you are one of the oddballs who thinks you cant be critical of something you love I suggest you stop reading now before I ruffle your feathers. Iron flame, second in the empyrean series. I am gonna start with what I was not a fan of and then go into the shit I adored.

1) what in the actual fuck was the pacing of this book?? I can tell you what, it was non existent. There was none. Where I thought there was a lot of filler in the last book there was none in this one. We got snap shots of conversations and then *boom* more plot flew at you. The timeline of this book greatly suffered for it i think bc we end only a couple weeks, if that, after threshing, which happens sometimes in October. This book was actually so wild with times.

2) while it was a spectacular cliff hanger, xaden becoming venin pisses me off. Especially if Rebecca yarros isnt going to have him tell violet. Like if that small tid bit of a conversation we got wasnt him telling vi that he was venin then the entire romantic conflict of this book was rendered pointless and their going to be having the same fucking fight for the rest of the series and at rhat point I give up.

3) I understand that the revolution is trying to take down basgaith and make the world better or whatever the fuck but can someone actually formulate a real plan for me?? Because I feel like their mission is just, giving violet and xaden something to be pissed at each other about.

4) the entirety of cats character. I get that she was set up as a spin on the typical jealous ex. Like having her be bitter about xaden picking violet over her but OH WAIT it wasnt actually about the man it was about the crown, oohh not like other girls. Im a writer too I see the point. I dont care. I think it was trashy. If you wanted her to be a bitter spiteful ex then have her be a bitter spiteful ex, the whole crown thing was shallow.

OKAY haters your time is up now onto the shit that made my heart hurt with joy and sadness

1) xadens arc in this book. I really liked that he went from "transparency is never gonna happen" to losing his fucking mind over violet and giving her everything. I love feral men and he qualifies. I think his arc was really well done and i liked it.

2) I appericiate that violet stuck to her guns for this book. She wouldnt let xaden off without a fight and I loved that. She made him bow and scrape and I was eating it up. It was spectacular.

3) the throne room scene. Violet on the throne. "Im making a temporary point not a lasting vow of maschocism" xaden being feral.

4) that gets its own point actually, just xaden being completely feral this entire book healed a part of my soul.

5) andarna's little speech at the end where she was like "I waited for you violet" made me ugly cry. That was just so hopelessly good I loved it. Andarna in general heals my heart but that part was just *chefs kiss*

6) tarin being completely and utterly ready to eat people this entire book. Just, at every turn "I want lunch their pissing me off " was spectacular

7) every scene their squad was in. Rihannon, violet, sawyer and ridoc are my roman empire. Their bond is so amazing. The fact that they launched a rescue mission for violet. Rihannon being ready to kill xaden at every turn. Ridoc being so platonically and adorably in love with violet. Just- augh happy cries happy cries. I love it all. Their so special tbh.

8) I love xaden actually, just, the whole book every scene hes in lives in my brain.

9) I liked that we saw a small bit of violet being feral this book too. I hope that we get more of that in future books. I want more of violet losing her fucking mind. Hot, badass women covered in blood

10) Liam. Fucking Liam. When violet was kidnapped and Liam was there. Now, do I logically understand that he was a hallucination, yes, do i care?? No. He was a gift from Maleck I will be hearing no critiques on that. It was so fucking sweet and amazing. I love violet and Liam and Liam being dead so horribly breaks my heart. I loved Liam. Liams death lives rent free in my skull.

[metaphorical-goblin]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @aawrightworth!

1. How many works do you have on A03? 31!

2. What's your total A03 word count? 259,660! ...woah

3. What fandoms do you write for? Mostly Ace Attorney! Though I do have another published fic for Dungeons and Daddies, and a couple more WIPs for other fandoms in the future

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Woo fun!

The Things We Agree to Believe are True

Double Date

Taking the Lead (NSFW)

The Essential Guide to Avian Development

And I Will Stay with You Through Spring (NSFW)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? *Yes,* absolutely! Honestly, comments (and responding to them) are probably one of my favorite parts of actually publishing fic. I get a lot of joy from writing them, but seeing and hearing from other people that liked them too, or share the same headcanons? *chef's kiss*

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Honestly, probably my most recent one, Her Brother's Keeper. I don't typically write "bad ending" fics, so this one was definitely a big step for me haha

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Again, most of the things I write have happy endings, so this is hard 😂

I personally really love it when "the war is over" and they can finally just get married and be CHILL so I'd have to say either "The Things We Agree to Believe are True" or "The Essential Guide to Avian Development."

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not really, thankfully! I've had a couple comments from John Phoenix here and there but I don't take it personally.

9. Do you write smut? Sometimes! I have a bad habit of writing smut that Must Have 10K Words of Prelude First, and while I am trying to "break" that habit, I actually really enjoy a story to go with it!

10. Do you write crossovers? I actually did write one for the Wright Anything Zine a few months ago! Of course, it was DnDads x Ace Attorney, and I... need to publish it lol

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Oh goodness, not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No I haven't! I haven't had much of anything with that much traction though, but it would be cool in the future!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but I would love to! I was actually talking through it with a friend a while back.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Of course I love Narumitsu, but I don't know if it's my "all time favorite..." I'm not sure what it is off the top of my head!

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Ironically enough, it's also the first Ace Attorney fic I ever wrote! It's a farmer Phoenix AU in which Miles also has amnesia, and over the course of his recovery they of course fall in love (dawwww). I would also love to add more to the Elfworth series! I have. His whole life planned out lol

16. What are your writing strengths? To be honest, I'm not completely sure! I like to think I can come up with original plots or ideas, but I know I still have a lot of work to do.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Sometimes I have some trouble connecting my points or writing "effective" scenes, amongst other things. (dang now these questions are making me want to keep up with this...)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I don't do it too often! Typically if I do include it, I'll either use something that is very common knowledge or provide a translation in the author's notes. Having said that, I've written some unpublished stuff for Avian AU where Phoenix and his mother are talking, and in *that* case I just wrote the dialogue in English with a clarification that they are speaking a different language. I'm always so nervous about getting a translation wrong though lol

19. First fandom you wrote for? Ohh man. Probably My Little Pony or Minecraft to be honest. Don't ask; you'll never see them and they're written in missing notebooks anyway 😂

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? AHH THIS IS SO HARD! I love a lot of my fics just so so much. I absolutely adore Avians and the Elfworth series, just because I love writing AUs and coming up with lore and everything. I also really really enjoy Kindergarten Cop and Great Big Leaps because I love writing little kids and how they act because they make me laugh.

I think overall, though, my most favorite would have to be "The Things We Agree to Believe Are True." It was fun, experimental, and just a really euphoric way to write a new story as I was getting through my senior year. I had a blast with it, and I'm always so thankful that it got so much support, as well!

Feel free to ignore the tags if you like (I know I'm hopping on this a little late lol), but answer if you feel like it! @kbots @edwirdon (and also just a blanket tag for anyone that might feel like answering!)

[hojichasunrise]

Finally finished NATLA. Thoughts:

They ruined Yue's character. Why would a princess be helping casually in the kitchen. Why would a princess display 0 manners around someone she just met. personality completely different.

They had Yue faint repeatedly just to magically sit back up when they needed an exposition dump, then faint again.

They made Hahn a good person? Why is Yue suddenly a waterbender and traipsing around the spirit world? It doesnt add anything and feels out of place.

The interactions between Pakku and Katara were stilted and forced. In the cartoon she had a training period and earned his trust, but here it was just instantly granted that she was the person to report to during battle, yet she doesnt know AQa's defense layout or anything else because she just arrived.

battle pacing in Agna Qel'a is weird. too much standing around talking.

The dialogue is so Marvelized. quip quip quip quip quip.

Aang is joyless and talking like Iron Man. (not the actor's fault.)

Zuko is perfect, 11/10. Every change they made is perfect.

Combining arc beats (e.g. Jet + mechanist) worked surprisingly well.

They made Bumi into an asshole and his dialogue was repetitive, that arc dragged out way too long.

Wasn't atmospheric enough. everything felt like a set.

How did Momo, half the size of a housecat, push that girl out of the way? physics are not mathing.

Why did they take Momo to the spirit oasis to heal but not any of the battle participants or injured civilians. Scene ate too much screen time and sapped urgency from the battle. Makes AQ'a look stupid.

Jet was perfect.

Multiple issues with logic, too long to post. Writing is shallow.

Azula is snarking to her father too much considering she just watched her brother get half his face melted off for one instance of disrespect.

Pecs. 🙏

not enough in-series justification for why Ozai wanted Zuko out of the way in favor of Azula. We know why, but they aren't standing on their own for this beat and have to lean on the cartoon.

Katara and Sokka getting btfo by Koh felt... really strange. they were just there to job and create stakes.

Kuruk and Kyoshi were great inclusions.

Jee/the 41st was a great detail, best part of series.

Azula being the puppetmaster behind Zhao is strange. She knows things by magic I guess, they made a 14 year old girl not just plausibly cunning but straight up omniscient. Logic breaking keikaku doori with her and Ozai.

Ozai using AQ'a as a distraction to take Omashu makes zero logical sense and I don't want to write an essay so just think about this for 5 minutes. I almost screamed.

bf's contribution: "this feels like it was written during the writer's strike."

Visually it was beautiful and the scenery and costumes were great. Other than Yue and Pakku the actors were all fine. Zuko's actor was beyond perfect and his firebending was next level gorgeous.

Sokka's new backstory was a good inclusion. Sokka got a lot of great scenes and the actor is a perfect fit.

Gyatso was also astonishingly perfect. chef's kiss to the actor, his performance was beautiful.

Very much noticing the Kataang scenes were all removed and we got some Zutara allusions. I ship that so yay.

The Sokka/Suki scenes were spicy. However she removed her makeup in 3 seconds flat and that broke my immersion. Please ask a woman next time. otherwise yes I ship that. Just kiss already!

I like the beautiful older lady they put in charge of Kyoshi Island. Nice to see more females in leadership positions.

The lack of the Azula chime is criminal. Her using feminine charm to lure rebels into a trap was a great scene to introduce her. Glad to see rebels, it makes it feel more politically realistic.

The opening scene in ep 1 had Mulan's opening scene vibes in a good way.

Overall: enjoyable with a few caveats but writing quality falls apart upon critical inspection. Much better than I expected, rewatch-worthy. 8/10.

[artemiseamoon]

Anywhere but here

Dave York x ofc

Will eventually be part of a multi chapter work called After All These Years

Words: 982 | Theme: angst / comfort

Warnings: guns, blood, mentions of a shootout, wounds and bruises, a kidnapping, deaths, and a rescue, mention of drinking

An: I was so torn who to pick for this, but I haven’t written Dave in forever. So I chose him.

This is a preview ~ read in full on A03

Submission for @littleferal writer’s iron chef | week #16 @writersironchef (thank you so much for creating and hosting this challenge) I needed every minute for this one, and ran out of time to edit. 💕

[PROMPT] “Just take my hand and close your eyes. Pretend we’re anywhere else but here."

The masked man groaned and tried to get up. Dave forced him back against the ground with his booted foot. Dave presses his body weight into the man's chest, then shoots him in the face.

Blood starters and Dave uses the back of his free hand, and wipes his visor with the glove.

Leaving him there, he can hear commotion inside of the decaying house. It was in the middle of nowhere, and a nightmare to find. But he found it. And now, he’s going to get them out alive.

He’s already killed 8 men before reaching the house. At first, the silencer bought him time, but now, they know he’s here.

Two men attempt to ambush him, bullets fly and after a brief struggle, he kills them both. As he walked down the long hallway, he counters another man. The fight and he disarms him.

Shoving him against a wall, he chokes him with one hand and shoots him in the kneecap with the other.

“Where are they!?”

Read more on A03

More Pedro

More writer’s iron chef

Update only blog @artemiseamoon-updates

[writersironchef]

lissie's writers' iron chef masterlist

The purpose of this writing exercise is to challenge yourself to write something in a limited time. What you produce doesn’t have to be a perfect, polished, piece and it doesn’t have to shared.

You can find all of the posted writers' iron chef challenges below, plus the tag to track completed challenges reblogged to this blog. If you're curious you can find out more about the origins of this challenge here, and a break down of how it works here.

Please feel free to take part whenever 💖

New challenges are posted every other Friday at 9am GMT

#1 Slow Dancing + tag for completed challenges

#2 An overwhelming desire to kiss that is not, or cannot, be acted on + tag for completed challenges

#3 “Stop that, right now.” + tag for completed challenges

#4 Taking a bath together + tag for completed challenges

#5 🎶 And oh, what a way to die 🎶 + tag for completed challenges

#6 “Midnight, on the bridge. Come alone.” + tag for completed challenges

#7 They had to work together so they were going to have to learn to get along + tag for completed challenges

#8 Accidentally falling asleep together + tag for completed challenges

#9 🎶 She might just be my everything and beyond 🎶 + tag for completed challenges

#10 Half the names on the list have already been crossed off + tag for completed challenges

#11 “I’ll be here the whole night, okay?” + tag for completed challenges

#12 "You don’t mean that.” + tag for completed challenges

#13 Patching up a wound + tag for completed challenges

#14 A well-kept secret is revealed + tag for completed challenges

#15 🎶 Can we make love like it’s our first time 🎶 + tag for completed challenges

#16 "Just take my hand and close your eyes. Pretend we’re anywhere else but here.” + tag for completed challenges

#17 “I miss moments like this more than anything.” + tag for completed challenges

#18 + tag for completed challenges

[the-blind-assassin-12]

First Watch

Writers’ Iron Chef #8

A/N: Thank you so much to @littleferal for putting together this prompt challenge! I’m not going to lie - I had other plans for this one (several other plans, actually, and I might still write one or two of the others...) but once that teaser dropped, all of my other ideas took a back seat and this one came sprinting to the forefront. This can be read as prequel to the Survivor Blues timeline, but it can absolutely also be standalone. 

Word Count: 1,585

Warnings: mention of guns, discussion of violence, explosions, brief mention of sex

Summary: Nothing ever goes according to plan. 

Prompt: Accidentally falling asleep together

They hadn’t planned on spending the night outside the walls. It was just supposed to be a day trip - a monthly meet up with Bill for supplies that were in high demand. Sometimes plans changed, though. 

And he hated when they did. 

Tess and Joel had run the route so many times they could do it in their sleep. They’d perfected the art of interacting with the soldiers at the border, cycling through sets of paperwork as needed so that their IDs wouldn’t be flagged, always having an alibi on hand for why they were traveling through a certain part of the city. They would rotate through the checkpoints so that their trails couldn’t be traced for suspicious patterns of movement, and then use the closest hidden exit that would take them beyond the towering concrete barrier keeping the Infected out and the citizens of the Boston QZ in. 

It did neither of those things perfectly. People still snuck out. Cordyceps still crept in. 

There were exploitable weaknesses, and with a dwindling number of trained and well-equipped soldiers to shore them up, it was more than just the smugglers and the stray runners that sought to take advantage. Marlene and the Fireflies had been active again, hitting checkpoints and holding up rations trucks, capturing guardsmen and taking their weapons. If he wasn’t so inclined to despise her and the foolish fantasies she spun about revolution and finding a cure, Joel would admire her level of commitment and her ability to inspire others - like his brother - to follow her. 

But just as they’d gotten through the gates at checkpoint 5, explosions rang through the already crumbling streets in a coordinated bombing of three other checkpoints. It was the largest scale that Marlene’s militia had ever attacked on, and though it made the rest of their journey out of the city easier, the commotion drawing all of the on-duty soldiers away from their regular posts and into the fray, it was going to make getting back in more difficult. 

Leave it to the damn Fireflies. 

They were good at disrupting things. Good at killing. Good at taking things temporarily into their own hands. But once the skirmishes had settled and the corpses were counted and cleaned up, the army would be on high alert for any unplanned comings or going. There would be fewer weaknesses in the wall because there would be lookouts stationed every hundred yards or so. It would be safer to wait it out on the other side, let a day pass to diffuse the tension and slip back unnoticed the following evening under the cover of twilight. 

“Looks like we’re camping out under the stars tonight, Joel.” Tess smirked at him from over her shoulder as they picked their way through the overgrowth, the sounds of chaos fading from earshot.

“Yeah,” he sighed and adjusted the straps on his backpack. “Guess so.” 

She clicked her tongue. “Oh, come on. Is spending time with me really that bad?” 

It wasn’t. Since Tommy left, Tess had been the only person Joel had allowed himself to trust. “You know that ain’t it, Tess. I just wanna get this done and get back in one piece.” 

“And we will.” She winked, pulling back some wire fencing and cocking her head to indicate that he should walk through. “Just as soon as those boys calm down enough to put their guns away.” 

That’ll be the day. 

They hadn’t run into any trouble on the way out, and the handoff with Bill had gone smoothly. It always did. Bill was all business. With him there were no negotiations, no haggling. The man was a combination of paranoia and aggression, which meant that he never allowed Joel and Tess to set foot in his territory, so he always arranged for the meeting place to be somewhere close to midway between the town he’d claimed and the outskirts of Boston. It was a good deal, even if it was a pain in the ass to meet him in the middle of nowhere. He got what he wanted from Joel and Tess - ammo that they’d stolen from the military, usually - and in turn he handed over medication and other in-demand items that often ran short in the city. The dealings were always wrapped by deciding on the date and location of their next meetup, and then the man would disappear, covering his own tracks behind him. 

It all went that way this time, too, but as they headed back towards the city to find a suitable place to wait out the shitstorm of bullets and bombs, they stumbled upon a herd of infected migrating aimlessly through the weedy streets. Dealing with a runner or clicker from time to time wasn’t anything that either of them were unfamiliar with, and they fought well in tandem, something almost choreographic in the way that they worked to dispatch their attackers and protect one another. But after killing nearly twenty of the things with nothing but their fists and a pair of baseball bats so as not to draw any unwanted attention with gunfire, they were dead tired. Both of them. 

Still, they needed to find a safe place to lay low for a while, and by the time they did that the sky had darkened and night had fallen. An old shed with half of one wall and a portion of the roof torn off turned out to be their best bet, and as the two of them eased their tired bodies down onto the ground Tess spoke. “Not too shabby, hmm Texas?” Hardly covering a yawn, she insisted on taking the first watch. “Get some shut eye, I’ll wake you up in a few hours and we can switch.” 

Joel knew better than to argue with her, even when she was exhausted, and especially when she knew that he was just as exhausted himself. “Yes, ma’am,” he responded, the formality only mildly sarcastic. He closed his eyes and let himself sink, let all of his muscles go lax and loose as he focused on the sound of cicadas in the distance and Tess’ breathing right beside him, and within a matter of minutes sleep had come to take him under. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the sound of a twig snapping startled him awake, eyes flying open. Holding his breath, he listened for any other signs that someone - or something - was close, but after a full thirty count there was nothing. 

Must’ve been an animal, or- 

His train of thought was derailed when he glanced down to find Tess slumped against him, her head resting on his shoulder. 

Shit. 

What was worse was that in sleep his arm had wound around her. 

God damnit, Tess. 

She liked to joke about the two of them acting like an old, ornery couple, bickering like they’d been married for years. Maybe in another life they would have been. But this wasn’t another life, it was the only one that they had and it was broken, dangerous. In an alternate version of their story - in the past, maybe, before the world went to shit and before his heart had known nothing but loss - the simple act of accidentally falling asleep on his shoulder would have meant something soft and safe. An unwillingness to separate and end the night, a silent and subtle shift between the two of them that meant that things had grown. Innocent. Sweet, even. 

But now? Falling asleep without meaning to could be disastrous. It could be the difference between life and death. It could mean both of them being ambushed at their most vulnerable. 

I should’ve insisted. I should have- 

She inhaled through her nose and shuffled closer to his side and though he knew he should wake her, Joel simply stared. If he woke her now, she’d know what she’d done and he didn’t want to hang guilt on her shoulders. 

Nothin’ happened, we’re fine. 

More than that though, he didn’t want her to wake up to him holding her the way he was. Their relationship had never really gone beyond sex. They used it as a way to blow off steam, and it was beneficial for both of them. Their natural chemistry didn’t end with fighting and smuggling. They were good together in bed, too. But it was always a means to an end. There was never anything sentimental or emotional either during the act or after, and even though they were both still clothed and covered in a day’s worth of dirt, sweat and who the fuck knew what else, the way that his arm curved around her waist and the way that she fit against his side were far more intimate than they’d ever been with each other while they were awake.   

Retracting his arm carefully, Joel waited until she moved away on her own, a small sigh falling from her lips as she twisted in her sleep, and then he closed his eyes again and let out a sound that might have been a snore or a grunt. Eyes still shut, he waited until he heard her hiss out a shit and a fuck, and then her hands were on his shoulder giving him a small shake. 

“Wake up, Joel. I fucked up. Fell asleep. I’m sorry, I-” 

“Well, shit, Tess,” he frowned, blinking at her, far more awake than he was pretending to be. “That’s the last time I let you take first watch.”         

.

.

.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags for this or any of my stories, please feel free to let me know by sending a message or filling out the form on my masterlist!

tags:  @something-tofightfor @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @amb11 @mindidjarin @jk7789 @tentacruels @harriedandharassed @joelmillerscoffee @woodlandmouth @swtaura  @thescarletfang @sleepylunarwolf @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @prolix-yuy​ @littleferal​

[littleferal]

Writers’ Iron Chef #8

[PROMPT] Accidentally falling asleep together

[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time

[WHEN COMPLETED] Please create your own post, then reblog this and add link to it. You can reblog this post if you want but it did get messy than I had anticipated. Please link back to this prompt in your own post if you do one. Please use the tags “lissie’s writers’ iron chef” and “writers’ iron chef 8” so we can all find each other’s works :)

[COMPLETED CHALLENGES #8]

[THE IRON CHEF]

For more information on this challenge you can find the masterlist here.

The purpose of this writing exercise is to challenge yourself to write something in a limited time. What you produce doesn’t have to be a perfect, polished, piece and it doesn’t have to shared. If you take part please make it a goal to interact with at least one other piece of writing :)

[RULES]

Set a timer and stick to it. The goal is not to finish something, it’s to start something.

Outlining and brainstorming can be done in the 10 minutes prep time. You do not have to take this prep time and you don’t have to use the full 10 minutes. However, if you choose to use it make sure you stick to the time limit.

You must always work the prompt into the scene.

The additional prompt is not essential but a bonus if you can make it work.

If what you write has sections missing but you still want to share it, put what happens and is missing in [square brackets] on a separate line.

If you want to share your writing, reblog this and post whatever you write. Remember, it doesn’t have to be a finished piece - think of it as posting an excerpt.

If it makes you feel more comfortable to post please take the timed 10 minutes after to edit. You don’t have to use the full 10 minutes but be sure to not go over it - we’re not looking for perfection. Otherwise share your writing as it is.

[saradika]

BENEATH THE BRANCHES

Bodyguard!Din Djarin x Princess!Reader

Rated T | 700ish words

An entry for @littleferal’s Writers’ Iron Chef #8!

Prompt - Accidentally falling asleep together

Tags - mentions of canon-typical violence, nightmares, implied mutual pining / yearning

The path is well-worn beneath your feet. Each step over the smooth line of stones leads you further into the garden, the soft echo of steps as he follows just a step behind.

Your journey is slow, winding, meandering. Past waist-high lines of lush, green hedges, through the curved arches covered in ivy.

A basket tucked in the crook of your arm, with the intention to trim a stem, a branch, here or there. Picking a cluster of gardenia first, the milk-white petals soft to the touch.

Fingers smoothing down your pockets, looking for the small set of shears. Coming up empty, until there’s a shift beside you - the Mandalorian drawing a thin knife from his belt, making a cut at the base.

A long pause, your eyes resting on the blade. He moves as it to offer it to you, but thinks better. Slipping it back into its sheath - handing off the flower instead, the first piece of your bouquet.

You add to it - a handful of greenery, tiny buds of baby’s breath. Daisies and a long sprig of lilac. Anything to bring the summer into your room, to brighten it up.

Working your way to the center, crossing a small wooden bridge to reach the ancient willow. He walks ahead now, parting the reedy branches like a curtain, letting you pass through. Letting it fall back into place behind.

Finding the old, moss-covered bench at the base of the thick trunk.

You sit. Not on the bench, but on the thick blanket of grass, your back pressing against the stone as you reach to unlace your boots. Digging your toes into the ground, slouching as he carefully lowers himself down to sit next to you.

Not very Princess-like, but really - there’s no one to see.

It’s nice here. Your favorite spot - through the thick branches it’s hard to see the tall, stone walls that surround you. A place where you used to pretend, make up stories with your friends.

Now, your head tips back, your eyes heavy as the summer breeze washes over you. Letting yourself close your eyes, for just a minute. Face turned up to the sun, watching the peek of clouds passing by through half-lidded eyes.

Ever since that night, it had been hard to sleep. You wake often, the phantom feeling of the iron blade touching your neck - a cry breaking through to reality as you’re wrenched from your nightmare.

The chill of beskar greeting you instead, a hushed whisper soothing you, “Shh, mesh’la. It’s just a dream. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

He didn’t sleep either. Your bodyguard. The Mandalorian - still furious that the assassin snuck into the ball, had found you alone on the terrace.

You barely had time to scream before there had been a press of a knife at your neck, a heavy arm wrapping around you.

But he was there - moving fast, blaster already drawn. The scream of a bolt as it flew through the air, an unholy snarl ripping through a vocoder.

It had frightened you, until you realized the sound had come from him. He hadn’t let you out of his sight since. Hadn’t forgiven himself.

When your eyes open, the blue is streaked with pink. The sun rosy and golden above, your eyes and limbs heavy as you push yourself up.

“Din?” You whisper - because you can call him that, when you’re alone.

Turning to see him, still as stone next to you. Head tipped back against the ancient bark, the barest sliver of skin in the space between his cowl and helmet.

You’re soaking it in as he stirs. Where he had drifted off next to you, just as weary as you were. Lulled to sleep, by the warm summer afternoon.

You should be afraid of him, but you’re not.

Because you’ve felt his hands on yours, when he ripped off his gloves. Carefully checking you after, tipping your face up to his. Ensuring the bloom of red against the blush silk of your dress wasn’t your own.

Thumb brushing away tears, his voice hushed as he told you it would be okay.

His helmet snaps towards you now, and you smile. It’s sleepy - your nap was the best rest you’ve had in days.

“That was wrong of me.” Din’s voice breaks the silence - the tone flat through the helmet, “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

“Its my fault.” You shrug, trying to comfort him, “Besides, you would have woken up if anyone came. I trust you.”

And you know he would have - had seen it with your own eyes. That’s why it had been so easy to sleep here, the solid weight of him next to you.

Guilt and tension strings his shoulders tight, until your cheek brushes against his shoulder, where the green velvet of the cape had been warmed by the sun.

Leaning into him as you sigh.

“Just a little longer, okay? I don’t want to go back yet.”

Your eyes fluttering shut again, curled up beside him. Where he slowly relaxes.

Until there’s the slightest brush of his helmet against the top of your head, your hand tucking unconsciously into the crook of his elbow.

You drift off again.

Beneath the branches of the willow - where it was safe.

He’s here. He’s got you.

Thanks for hosting the event, Lissie! It’s definitely great practice and it was fun to try to get all your thoughts down within a set timeframe! 💕

[something-tofightfor]

Chilled - Writers’ Iron Chef #8

Pairing: Marcus Pike x female reader (Just Be-Claus pairing)

Word Count: 1,602

Rating: M? There’s some steamy thoughts, but it’s VERY tame for 99.9% of this. 

Summary: Marcus has been extremely busy at work, but he’s able to carve out a few hours of time for you in the middle of a job. 

Prompt:  Accidentally falling asleep together

Author’s notes:

This is based on this prompt from the weekly Writers’ Iron Chef event that @littleferal​​ created and runs!

I have missed Marcus Pike and writing yet another short and sweet little piece for him was absolutely necessary this week. Who wouldn’t want to fall asleep with this man? You can read Just Be-Claus and Watercolor if you want to know more about this pair, but it’s not entirely necessary. 

In the almost two weeks since Marcus’ newest assignment began, you’d seen him in person for about an hour total. Video chatting was a different story, and you were thankful that he’d made the time to call before going to bed each night. But those calls were short, too, no more than a few minutes at a time, conversation hurried as he tried to get a decent amount of rest. 

You saw it happen - the man’s appearance growing more and more disheveled each day, the bags beneath his eyes darkening. He wasn’t sleeping much, and even though you worried, you understood why that was the case.

Marcus’ team had uncovered a cache of art in Rockville, a massive warehouse that seemed to be a hub for the storage, sale and transport of stolen artwork on the entire Eastern seaboard. There were hundreds of pieces there, along with various sale records, logistical books and a ton of other useful information that would take a long time to completely assess. To put it simply, it was a huge find - and it needed to be dealt with as quickly as possible. 

The catch was that none of it could be moved until all of it had been catalogued, and that meant almost around the clock attention on the warehouse from Marcus and his team just to get it done as quickly as possible so that the next steps could be taken.

It kept him away from you, and it kept him away from his home, but you knew that it was temporary, and so you were willing to wait as long as it took - because Marcus was worth it. 

When he called on the second Thursday, letting you know that he was available that night for longer than an hour, you jumped at the opportunity, telling him that he could let himself in if he made it there before you did, like usual. 

Marcus was waiting on your couch when you got home from work, the man leaning back against the cushions with his socked feet on the table, a dark t-shirt stretched across his broad chest and a pair of jeans covering his legs. He looks great. Exhausted, but … great.

He stood when you entered, crossing he room and taking you into his arms, the man holding you tight against his chest and not saying a word. You spoke first, leaning back and looking into his eyes, a tiny smile on your lips as you let yourself enjoy the feeling of him holding you again in the quiet comfort of your living room. “Hey, you.” He nodded, eyes bright as he said the same in return. “Hope you’re hungry. I ordered a bunch of food, and it should be here in a few minutes.” 

“I am.” He sighed. “Been eating like shit lately. Sleeping like shit, too.” You hated to hear that, but instead of continuing, Marcus only squeezed your hands and led you over to the couch, urging you to sit with him while you waited. 

You spent a few minutes catching up, Marcus asking how work was and what you’d been doing for the previous few weeks. Before you could get deep into conversation, the food arrived and the two of you carried it into the kitchen, dividing it up before moving back into the living room and retaking seats on the couch. 

It made you happy to see him eating - real food, taking the time to chew and swallow and enjoy what he consumed, Marcus groaning in appreciation as he worked through what was on his plate. “Did I tell you that there’s no air conditioning in the warehouse? That’s one of the reasons we have to work fast.” He finished his beer, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.  “Everybody’s hot and miserable, and all we can do is take breaks and sit in the cooling tents out front, or in our cars with the AC blasting.”

“That’s awful, Marcus.” You finished your dinner, setting your plate on the coffee table. “So I bet getting back to the office every night is -”

“Oh, it’s hot there, too. But it’s a little better, because at least the couch is comfortable.” He used one hand to gesture to the room you were in. “This, though? This is perfect.” 

“Yeah, it’s been hard to sleep at night, so I dropped the temperature in here a little bit.” He thanked you, winking, and then Marcus launched back into another story, telling you more about what they hoped to uncover by going through all of their findings - though he didn’t go into detail because he couldn’t. 

After you finished eating and dumped the plated into the sink, the two of you moved back to the couch. Marcus sits next to you, one arm around your shoulders, your head leaning against his arm as you watch whatever’s on the TV. “I wish I could stay the night.” His words are quiet, the man sighing. “But I need to stop at home and pack a bag with new clothes. We should be done by Tuesday or Wednesday, so -”

“So you’re going to sleep at the office again?” Frowning, you, turn your head to look at him. “Or at your place?” 

“My place. I’ll go home, shower, pack a bag and get a couple hours of sleep before I head out. The earlier I get there, the better.” You can hear in his voice that he doesn’t want to leave, that the arrangement isn’t what he hopes for. “I can stay for a little while, though. Maybe another hour?” 

“I’ll take it.” Sitting up, you turned your head to face him, reaching out with one hand to touch his cheek, and letting your fingers sweep slowly over the stubble there. It’s not often that he lets his facial hair grow out without trimming it, but you can tell by the way it looks that he’s been very busy with other things, the man not even worrying about shaving. “C’mere, Marcus.” 

Usually, when Marcus kisses you, it’s sweet and slow, but you can still feel the underlying passion in it. That night, his kiss is slow because he’s exhausted, and even though you can tell that he wants it, the man’s heart isn’t all the way in it. That’s fine. He’s just tired. His smile is bright when you separate, and with a contented hum, you settle back into position, just happy to be able to give him a cool, dark place to relax, even if only for a few hours. 

But the next thing you know, you’re opening your eyes and you know that it’s late, a glance at the cable box proving that you’re right. Shit. It’s almost three in the morning, and even though your first instinct is to wake Marcus, you pause instead. 

Over the previous few hours, both of you managed to move without waking up. You’re leaning against the arm of the couch, one of the cushions folded behind your head. He’s sleeping - deeply - the man’s head on your lap, his arm slung over your thigh and the rise and fall of his chest steady in the glow of the TV screen. He looks peaceful, and you can’t help raising a hand to drag your fingers through his hair, smiling down at the man. Just a few more minutes. Then I’ll have to - 

“We fell asleep.” Marcus’ voice is full of gravel, but when he rolls onto his back and looks up at you, he’s smiling again, eyes wide open. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You needed it, Marcus.” Your hand is still moving, and even though you can see him fighting against the urge, he relaxes under your touch, closing his eyes. “When’s the last time you got five uninterrupted hours of sleep?”  

“Before this job.” He answered immediately, both hands on his chest. “I could sleep for another five, but -”

“What time do you have to be on site?” Still dragging your fingers against his scalp, you keep your voice low. “Because -”

“By eight.” Marcus’ eyes are open again, staring up at you. “Which means I need to leave a little after 7 from my place.” 

“Stay here.” You shrug, saying his name. “Wake up at 6:30, take a shower. Pack some of the stuff you have in my closet. They don’t expect you to work in a suit in this heat, right?” 

“No, but -” Then that’s what you’re doing. 

“Marcus, you don’t need to make this harder on yourself. You have another pair of jeans and a bunch of shirts here. Just use those. If you drive back home now, that cuts an hour of sleep.” You use your chin to gesture to the hallway that leads to your bedroom. “We can be in bed in five minutes here, and I bet you’ll be back asleep in under ten.” 

It takes a few seconds, and you can see that he’s weighing the necessity of being professional by showing up in his usual clothes with the luxury of more sleep. You feel it the moment that sleep wins out, Marcus sitting up and then standing, holding his hand out to you. 

“Fine. You win. I’ll sleep here.” It felt like a victory for you, and you hoped that he agreed. “But I’m not waking up in the morning to take a shower.” No? “We’re going to take one right now and then we can both sleep later.” 

It was more than you expected from the night, and all you can do is grin, eagerly moving toward the hallway. “I like that plan, Marcus.”

—

tag list coming separately! 

[prolix-yuy]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you for the tag @oonajaeadira! Funny enough I saw this go around a couple months ago and meant to do it, then life got crazy. This seems like a great time to jump on in!

How many works do you have on ao3?

48! Wowza! That's not counting fics I only post here (like my Writers Iron Chefs and the Bangathon)

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

338,089. That's kind of crazy, I'm not gonna lie. And some of those words aren't filthy :P

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The Pedro Pascal Cinematic Universe!

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

Something New, One Very Good Night, Both Sides of the Door, A Sweet Response to Tragedy, and Good Company. 4 out of 5 of these are from I Think of You, which does warm my little heart. I did laugh that their popularity is completely out of order from the series.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes yes yes! Every single one I get! I'll even yank your tags out and comment on them when they make me especially happy. It's the best part of sharing my stories.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

TECHNICALLY One Very Good Night had the angstiest ending before I continued the series. Same with Cognitive Dissonance! Apparently I get to an angsty end then just write a part 2.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think that's tied with the real ending to my Whiskey & Westworld series, and all the gooey soft fun of my Javi G series. Both make my heart glow in different ways.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Knock on wood, nothing so far. I've gotten a couple of interpretations of my fics that have made me cock my head because I just don't think the person read the story, or if they did they skimmed over the character development part. But otherwise I've had a very nice time with everyone here <3

9. Do you write smut?

If you don't know by now, I'm not sure what you've been reading...

10. Craziest crossover?

100% Whiskey & Westworld. Golden Circle meets android theme park? Lusting over cowboys and having existential crises? It fit better than I ever thought it would and I still love the crap out of it.

(though as a side note, having Javi P be the person who helped Santi find his girls in the SW!Frankie AU is another fav)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not? Yeesh.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but that would be pretty neat!

13. Have you co-written a fic before?

No, but I have had the distinct pleasure of @psychedelic-ink writing a fic in the SW!Frankie AU that made my whole life.

14. All time favorite ship?

HELP I'M TORN. It's a tie between Din and my Reader in I Think of You and Dieter and Murch in Best Laid Plans. I think about both of them so so so much.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will

I have a handful of small WIPs in a folder that who knows if they'll come to fruition. I think the greatest contender is probably the Post-Apocalyptic Frankie I tossed around because The Last of Us came out and it might just meld into a Joel story instead.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm good at pacing and giving enough description to keep a reader engaged but not bogged down with details. People connect with my reader characters in a way that makes me super happy. And I write damn good smut.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I can't write outlines or my brain says "it's done :)" and I never write the story. I can't write out of order. I struggle with making characters have meaningful fights and arguments because I'm non-confrontational IRL and it makes me anxious.

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language

Flavor! I love reading it! I tend to shy away from writing it because as someone who knows another language, it never feels natural to me to throw it in. Pet names are a nice way to use it, and I'll allude to speaking other languages in descriptions, but it's difficult so I tend to not add it much in my stories.

19. First fandom you wrote for

Gundam Wing when I was about eight or nine. Part of my username is in homage to that! My friends and I would write our fanfics and then read them all out loud at sleepovers together. Pre-internet, this was my Tumblr lol.

20. Favorite fic you've written

You know, I love all of my fics a whole damn lot, and my top ones are still hard favs. But I think for a story that came out of my heart in a really nice way and that I hold a little closer than the others, The Plan might just top them a tiny bit.

NP tags: @iamskyereads @psychedelic-ink @julesonrecord @wannab-urs @ezrasbirdie and anyone who wants to play!

[faunbarnes]

The Night After: Writers’ Iron Chef #8

[PROMPT] Accidentally falling asleep together

[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time

[WHEN COMPLETED] Please create your own post, then reblog this and add link to it. You can reblog this post if you want but it did get messy than I had anticipated. Please link back to this prompt in your own post if you do one. Please use the tags “lissie’s writers’ iron chef” and “writers’ iron chef 8” so we can all find each other’s works :)

Based on this Prompt by @littleferal in her Writers' Iron Chef Challenges.

After the Mall fire, you, Robin, Steve, Nancy and Jonathan found yourselves at Steve’s house, It being the biggest. You all sat around a pizza in his living room just going though the motions.

“I am so tired.” Robin complained as she sat her pizza down. You agreed as you took a bite of your cheese pizza.

“I cannot believe Hopper’s gone.” Steve said; Jonathan nodded yawning. Nancy stood and held out her hand to him. “you guys can take the guest bedroom upstairs if you want.”

They nod and headed towards the stairs. Robin shook her head and looked at Steve who was still pretty beat up despite the EMT cleaning the wounds and patching him up.

“are you sure you shouldn’t be at the hospital right now?” she asked; Steve shook his head and pus his arm around you as he glanced down at your leg where the EMTs had stitched up from Billy’s attack.

“I’ll be fine. There’s a spare room down from the bathroom, it’s small; Mom usually puts grandma in it to be a bitch.”

“Thanks, I’m going to shower.” she also stood up and walked away. Steve looked at you only to find you asleep in his side; he picked you up and began carrying you to his room. He gently laid you down on the bed and covered you up with the blankets. He went to leave the room when you grabbed his hand. He sat down on the bed next to you as you touched his face gently.

“Thank you for taking care of Dustin and Erica.” you whispered; he smiled softly,

“Thank you for noticing that something was wrong with Robin and I when we showed up.” he said; you smiled.

“You weren’t exactly hiding the fact you two were high. But you're welcome. Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?” you asked; Steve nodded before getting into bed with you; you laid your head on his chest.

When you awoke, arms were wrapped around you and a body was pressed into your back. Whispers were heard from the door as you opened your eyes. Nancy and Robin stood as the door a camera in their hand as she snapped a picture. The body next to you began to shift and a blush appeared on your face when you realized it was Steve.

“What'sgoingon?” he muttered as he pulled you closer causing your two friends in the doorway to smile and walk away, “Shit. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He went to move his hands from you but you quickly grabbed his hands to stop him. He chuckled softly under his breath before pulling you closer to him. You turned over to face him and smiled softly.

“I’m still tired.” you whispered; he smiled kissed your forehead and tucked your head under his chin.

“Sleep as long as you need, I’m here.” he whispered. You fell back to sleep feeling safe in his arms.

[insomniamamma]

Changes: Frankie Morales x F!reader

A/N: so this was written for @littleferal‘s Writer’s Iron Chef #8. The prompt was accidentally falling asleep together.  I feel like this might be the start of an interesting AU. I may have to do something else with these two. Reader has had to move back in with her parents after some unspecified setback. Reader is younger than Benny but otherwise not described.

Warnings: A little angst. Small town. Overbearing parents. Alcohol consumption. Food mentions. Oh no, we’re snuggling for warmth. One very soft kiss. Brief mention of spiders.

          Things change, but some things stay exactly the same. Coming home was like hitching a ride on a time machine, the shit-splat town you grew up in much the same as when you ran from it. The shitty little carnival still comes through town at the beginning of summer like clockwork, the train still rolls through what passes as a downtown several times a night.  The dog food factory still stinks. The house is much the same as you remember it, only older, your ma and pa older. We won't charge you room and board, says your pa, but we do expect you to help out with groceries and such. And if you are going to live in this house, we expect you to follow certain rules. Yes, sir, you say, falling into the old patterns.          They've set you up in your old room, still painted an eye-watering purple that 13 year old you had loved.          I talked to Jerry down to the store. He'll hire you on.          Yes sir.          It's good pay. You'll have to work for it though.          Yes sir.          You'll be just fine, says Ma, you'll get back on your feet soon enough.

         Things change, but some things stay exactly the same. The Millers still live next door, their back field and yours butting up, separated by a fringe of scraggly honeysuckles. Benny practically knocks you over, sweeping you up into a bear hug.          "Hey, Squirt! I missed you! How've you been?"          "Honestly, I've been better." Will's greeting is more subdued but just as warm, pulls you into his arms and squeezes you tight.          "You'll be okay." And somehow when Will says it you believe it.

         "Hey Squirt!"          "Arrrghh. I am a whole five minutes younger than you Benjamin Miller!" Benny throws up his hands in mock surrender.          "We're gonna have a fire tomorrow," he says, "Pope and Fish are gonna be there. You should come."

         Things change, but some things stay exactly the same. Will is telling embarrassing Benny stories, like the time he caught the curtains on fire using a lighter and hairspray to kill a spider that Will planted in his room. You've heard this story a million times but the man sitting next to you hasn't. The boys call him Fish but his name is Francisco. I'm Frankie, only my mom calls me Francisco. He has a brilliant smile that turns his eyes into crinkled crescents. Curls peek out form under his ball cap, you find yourself smiling at him, wanting to be near him.          Will's got a pie iron and is using it to make the campfire equivalent of Cinnabon rolls. Cinnamon raisin bread stuffed with marshmallows and toasted over the coals. You've had two of those and several beers and now the fire is low and red and the boys are trading stories. It's getting chilly and the five of you move gradually closer to the fire. Closer to each other. Which is how you end up nestled against Frankie. He curls an arm around you like its the most natural thing in the world.          "You ok?"          "yeah. I'm just cold."            "Hey Ben, can you get the extra blanket out of my truck? It's unlocked."          "Sure, Fish."          The night blurs and the fire grows dimmer. You're not sure how, but you end up draped across Frankie's lap. Your head pillowed on his thigh. Wrapped up in a blanket that smells a little like motor oil and a little like a basement. The boys tell their stories and laugh. At some point the conversation gets softer, regrets and lives lost, but all the while Frankie smooths his hand over the curve of your shoulder up and down, a mindless, soothing motion.

         "Hey." Someone is shaking you, "Hey."          "mmmnnn?"          "My leg's asleep."          “Oh Shit! Sorry." You sit up. The fire is nothing but dim winking embers. Pope and the Miller boys are nowhere to be seen. The sky above is awash in stars, like sugar spilled across black velvet. Frankie stands and does a little hopping dance, trying to get blood-flow back into his leg and you laugh.          "Sorry."          "There's nothing to be sorry for." Frankie offers his hand and pulls you up. "Can I walk you home?"          "It's just across the field." His hand is warm around yours.          "I know."

         You and Frankie stand in the ugly yellow porch light. Moths tick against the hot bulb. All the windows are dark. You've still got his blanket wrapped around yourself like a robe.          "I'd like to see you again," he says.          "You will. I'm not going anywhere. Not for a while anyway." He smiles, lovely and tired, and squeezes your hand, still folded in his. You lean in and kiss his stubbled cheek, right over his dimple.          "Thank you."          "For what?" He asks, his cheeks tinged red, and earlobes rapidly following suit.          "Keeping me warm."          "Any time, princesa."

[artemiseamoon]

Coming up

1. Decided by Fate

2. Update for Damage Control

2. Alternative ending 1 for After this is over

4. Draft release: TF Rick flag , the guys & ofc

6. Vampire John wick #3/ finale

7. Bonus (post finale) chapter for Milk & Honey

8. A Steven Grant drabble for writers iron chef

- subject to change, this is based off my current mood and what comes to mind first -

If looking for links (in progress works), go to my masterlist or here, my recent writing round up.

A03 news, why i temporarily set my fics to users only

[writersironchef]

Writers’ Iron Chef #8

[PROMPT] Accidentally falling asleep together

[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time

[WHEN COMPLETED] Please create your own post, and link back to this post. Tag me if you want your post reblogged to this page. Please use the tags “lissie’s writers’ iron chef” and “writers’ iron chef 8” so we can all find each other’s works :)

[five-rat-lore]

Hackett’s Quarry Summer Camp Tag!

I’ve been tagged by a few people in this and wanted to give it a go :3

original tag list by @lowonmelatonin

Favourite counsellor and least favourite counsellor. Why?:

My favourite has to be Dylan. I read ATLITW a few weeks before I played the quarry and that already set me off struggling with my gender (again), but the moment I set eyes on Dylan something snapped in me. He’s my gender euphoria <3 I wrote A Guy Like Me literally as soon as we finished the game.

First time I played I liked Laura the least (ironic because she’s my husband’s favourite), but I have a new appreciation for her after replaying. I think maybe Abi is my least favourite, but only because I wish she’d had more to do! Same with Nick tbh.

Favourite chapter and least favourite chapter. Why?:

Chapter 5 is my favourite, hands down! I love the scrapyard, but the radio hut is just superior imo

Me and Chapter 8 have personal beef because when me and my husband picked our characters at the start of the game, I chose Dylan, Abi, Nick and Emma, and he picked Ryan, Laura, Jacob and Kaitlyn. Which means I didn’t get to play for the whole of chapter 8!!!

Favourite ship (you can pick a maximum of 3)?:

Dylan/Ryan (also Dylan/Ryan/Kaitlyn)

Biggest counsellor crush:

Dylan. At first I joked that I didn’t know if I wanted to be him or be with him, turns out it’s both lol

How would you survive The Quarry?:

my toxic trait is thinking I would survive the quarry. I’m scrappy and I’ve been waiting my whole life to go horror movie feral.

Favourite The Quarry fanfic writer and fanartist:

My all time fave is @drylan his work is *chef’s kiss* and then I also love @dylan-lenivy-appreciation-day works too, Better Left Unspoken has me in a vice grip. and I can’t talk about my fave fics without mentioning @cloudycaffeinatedcryptid obviously :)

I need to follow more fanartists, I’m like really bad at using tumblr so I pretty much just live in the radioheads tag. But I do love @divomria art, it’s so good!

Also @needsmorewlw for their fandom content, their headcanons and fandom content are up there with the best fanart and fanfics for me

Shoutout some friends you have made being involved in the fandom!

Okay so heres the thing, I have this constant crushing fear that everyone finds me annoying and does not want to be friends with me. I desperately want fandom friends but I’m such a coward. And I also feel that everyone else is already friends and I’m just... here. I think I make content as a way of reaching out but I never know where to go from there.

but my special shout outs go to @mothamcity @stressedanime and @me-ladie (as well as everyone I’ve already tagged)! Maybe this is me finally taking that next step to actually become friends with people in the fandom.