w2writesstuff

[w2writesstuff]

And this was my story this round!

by shukyou illustrated by 2013

Manny woke and something was different. For the first time in a painfully long time, something was different. It was Tuesday.

He knew this because it said so on the clock beside the bed, and also it wasn’t his clock. His clock had bright red numbers and no date. He felt like he had its bright and boxy 6:08 burned into his retinas. These numbers were a gentler blue, and its digits were a somewhat more graceful 7:14. The display also told him the temperature outside was 23 degrees F (-5 C), the sunrise would be at 7:22, and, maybe most importantly, it was Tuesday.

Manny just lay there for a minute, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t know what to do with a Tuesday. It had been so long.

Other things were different, too. The sheets were soft flannel against his skin, which was especially noticeable because he wasn’t wearing any clothes. There was someone in the bed on his other side, and that someone was starting to stir. Manny held his breath and cautiously rolled over.

It was Emmett. The bed was Emmett’s, and so was the clock, and so was the room, and so was the come still probably inside of him, because he had said to hell with condoms, because why the hell would someone bother with condoms when the day wasn’t going to matter? Not in a million years had he shut his eyes expecting that the next time he’d wake up, it wouldn’t be to 6:08 and his boxers and college t-shirt and his own bed and his own room and Monday all over again.

Oh, and it was his birthday, finally. Happy birthday to him.

Emmett stirred a little, rubbing his hand across his face. He had the most darling face, the most kissable lips in the world. Manny had gotten very good at knowing just how Emmett liked those lips kissed. He opened his pretty brown eyes, blinked away the confusion of waking, and — oh thank God — smiled. “Hey,” he said sleepily, his hand for Manny’s face.

It was all Manny could do not to bolt like a startled deer. He let out a long, shaky exhale. “I, um.” He swallowed hard. “It’s Tuesday.”

---

Read the rest of this story in the full issue, Shousetsu Bang*Bang Issue 113: Nine to Five

[w2writesstuff]

What W2 Wrote in 2024

tl;dr: Not much!

January

[crickets]

February

Ideal Pairing (@shousetsubangbang) Sexy times in a wine cellar. I wrote this in, what, a day? And it shows.

March

Nope.

April

Heavyweight (DMBJ, Pangzi/Wu Xie) A Pangzi Birthday Exchange 2024 piece for @scaredysap, with some romantic face-punching.

never love someone who could love someone like me (@shousetsubangbang) The only good thing I wrote for SSBB this year, and it's a long prequel to an even longer story.

May

The Part Where You Kiss Him (Legend of Fei, Li Yan/Yang Jin/Ying Hecong) This is that part, cute teen threesome and all.

A Ten-Course Banquet Made For (and With) Love (Otoko Meshi) I wrote this piece expecting a total of three people would appreciate it, and behold, that is what has happened. More people should watch this silly show, is what I'm saying.

June

Nothing Under My Skin But Light (Mystic Nine, Fo Ye/Er Ye) Mixing movie and show canons for sexy times backstage at the Changsha opera house.

The Jewel Thief (Blood of Youth, Xiao Se/Wuxin) Xiao Se is the party bicycle, and it's Wuxin's turn for a somewhat more romantic ride.

Odysseus Didn’t Know What He Was Missing (@shousetsubangbang) I mean, you can't say I didn't go dirty with this one. It's pretty much just solid homoeroticism start to finish.

July

The Other End of the Line (Heaven and Hell: Soul Exchange, Hidaka/Mochizuki) This was unfortunately the point where I burned out on Small Fandom Summer '24, but at least I got some uncomfortably sexy bodyswap porn in there.

August

Paint the Town Vermilion (@shousetsubangbang) A tale about unintentionally going undercover in a gay bar, which was saved by having a cute narrator, but was again very rushed.

September

Nada.

October

Something Else (@shousetsubangbang) A tale about meeting a familiar stranger at a bar. Guess what? This was rushed too! Are you seeing a pattern?

November

Zip.

December

Nothing.

So yeah, this is the first SSBB issue I've missed in years. I tried, I really did, but it seemed like idea after idea just flamed out while thing after thing piled on elsewhere. And in the end, there wasn't anything left to say.

Fingers crossed that 2025 will be gentler on me, and I will in turn be gentler on myself.

[w2writesstuff]

by shukyou (主教)

“Easy, pal,” I said, giving him a pat on the back. “Take it slow. We got you.” He had the brightest green eyes I’d ever seen, and believe me, I’ve seen plenty. They blinked at me once, twice, and then he started coughing. I held him forward a little so he could spit up the rest of what was in his lungs on the deck. Look, coming back from almost drowning is hardly a dignified process. He was doing his best.  Luke passed me a canteen of fresh water, which I put to our visitor’s lips. He drank gratefully — a little too gratefully, in fact, which meant I had to pull it back. He made the cutest little sound of disappointment, but to no avail. I’m fairly well-practiced at saying no. “Take it slow,” I told him again, never taking my hands off him. “We just got plenty of water out of you. Let’s take our time putting it back in, hm?” He had a sweet face, as chubby and pink as the rest of him, freckled from exposure to the sun. There’d been a strange little fog that had rolled in earlier, one of those curious little nautical things that just seem to happen from time to time, but it was gone now and the sky and sea alike couldn’t be clearer or calmer. The sun blazed high in the center of it, turning the surface of the water so bright you could hardly look at it. They made the word empyrean to talk about the sky on a day like this, did you know that? English-speakers use it to mean heavenly, which is fair, language being what it is and all, but in my home tongue it literally means on fire. “Where … what happened?” he managed. The words rasped a little out of his throat, parched from the salt water he’d swallowed. A little disorientation was normal in situations like this. He seemed like a sharp kid. He’d adapt.

from Issue 109: The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

[w2writesstuff]

“Easy, pal,” I said, giving him a pat on the back. “Take it slow. We got you.” He had the brightest green eyes I’d ever seen, and believe me, I’ve seen plenty. They blinked at me once, twice, and then he started coughing. I held him forward a little so he could spit up the rest of what was in his lungs on the deck. Look, coming back from almost drowning is hardly a dignified process. He was doing his best.  Luke passed me a canteen of fresh water, which I put to our visitor’s lips. He drank gratefully — a little too gratefully, in fact, which meant I had to pull it back. He made the cutest little sound of disappointment, but to no avail. I’m fairly well-practiced at saying no. “Take it slow,” I told him again, never taking my hands off him. “We just got plenty of water out of you. Let’s take our time putting it back in, hm?” He had a sweet face, as chubby and pink as the rest of him, freckled from exposure to the sun. There’d been a strange little fog that had rolled in earlier, one of those curious little nautical things that just seem to happen from time to time, but it was gone now and the sky and sea alike couldn’t be clearer or calmer. The sun blazed high in the center of it, turning the surface of the water so bright you could hardly look at it. They made the word empyrean to talk about the sky on a day like this, did you know that? English-speakers use it to mean heavenly, which is fair, language being what it is and all, but in my home tongue it literally means on fire. “Where … what happened?” he managed. The words rasped a little out of his throat, parched from the salt water he’d swallowed. A little disorientation was normal in situations like this. He seemed like a sharp kid. He’d adapt. I gave him another little drink from the canteen. This time he let me control the pace and didn’t object when I decided he was done. Good boy; he was learning. “Why don’t you start by telling me what you remember?” We could piece it together, together.

Here's my new story for Shousetsu Bang*Bang Issue 109: The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea! It has handsome men and orgies on a yacht! And a narrator that was very fun to write.

[w2writesstuff]

by shukyou (主教) illustrated by The Winter Cynic

another round of soulmates are stupid I love you on purpose

-

She didn’t look real to Jo at first; between the hazy colored lights that pulsed in time with the music and the oncoming storm of whatever was in those pills Dominick had sold her, Jo’s first thought on seeing her was, I’m looking at a ghost.

She was solid, though, or solid enough as she sat down on the ratty old couch next to Jo, and her knees bumped against Jo’s. She had long legs, made even longer by the high-heeled platform shoes she was wearing. When she stood up, her head must hit the ceiling, Jo though, or maybe that was the pills talking again. They made everything seem close, almost claustrophobically so. But Jo wasn’t claustrophobic. She wasn’t anything-phobic. A phobia was a fear and she wasn’t afraid of fucking anything.

Not even of this creature, who had nails painted the same red as her ill-fitting dress. It looked like it wasn’t even her dress, like she’d borrowed it for the evening. Maybe that was what made her look like a ghost, the part where she looked like she was just visiting the skin she was in. She had two huge brown eyes framed by red eyeliner. “Hi,” she said, her red lips forming the syllable. Maybe it was her favorite color. Maybe it was the only color she owned.

“Hi,” Jo said back. Her bones felt like they’d been replaced with mashed potatoes. On instinct, her fingers drifted to the knife in the pocket of her ratty cargo pants. Never leave home without it. That was a lesson she’d learned a little too late.

“This is my first time,” said the woman, glancing around the room. Bodies twirled and staggered around them in equal measure, all the bright young things here to get trashed off their asses at one of the south-of-South-Street warehouse parties. Jo didn’t even know who was throwing it tonight, if anybody was throwing it at all. Maybe these things were like natural disasters, popping up unbidden and unstoppable. Maybe they were nobody’s fault.

Jo nodded. “Okay.” She didn’t know what to say to that. There wasn’t a greeting or secret handshake. Jo barely remembered the first time she’d found herself here. After her parents had kicked her out, was all she could say for the timing. So, any time in the last two years. They were all a blur anyway.

The woman in red raised one knobby hand and held it out to Jo, not like a handshake, but like she expected Jo to kiss her knuckles, like she was some medieval princess. “I’m Winnie.”

[w2writesstuff]

Sometimes you fight an idea for weeks and finally wrestle it to the mat! ...And sometimes you fight it, realize it's not going down, concede defeat, and slap something else together at the last minute instead.

Anyway, here's a little story -- and I do mean little -- about some secret smutty nonsense in a wine cellar.

[w2writesstuff]

What W2 Wrote in 2023

Considering that I'm prrrrrobably not going to manage to put out anything else this year, yeah, let's do a roundup now while I've got a moment. (Note: Only includes fun stuff; no professional shit here.)

January

I can't even remember January. Nothing happens in Januaries.

February

to the beat of your heart, ch. 3 (MDZS) The ongoing adventures of a self-indulgent happy-ending everybody-lives-and-also-bones WangXian canon-divergent AU; a joint project between my wife and me.

It’s Hard to Say “I Do” When You Don’t (@shousetsubangbang) Original story about a guy whose long-time crush asks him to pretend to be his boyfriend at a family wedding. Fake dating ensues.

March

Kintsukuroi (DMBJ) This heihua piece may be the best thing I've written all year? Look, I'm just very proud of how I made it exactly what I wanted it to be.

April

Head (@shousetsubangbang) This was a last-minute fill because the story I wanted to write failed to make itself writeable. Oh well! Still a funny and cute blowjob.

May

to the beat of your heart, ch. 4 (MDZS)

I want to be where all the stupid shit I say sounds so romantic and true (Guardian, WeiLan) Someday I will write a longer and more complicated series of Guardian sex pollen shenanigans, but until then, enjoy this one.

The Rightful Ruler (The Blood of Youth, Lei Wujie/Xiao Se) Still the only English-language story on AO3 for this pairing! Includes maybe the funniest line I wrote all year? You make the call!

The Doctor is In (Psych-Hunter) I know nobody watched Psych-Hunter, and with good reason, but I did, and I think Jiang Shuo should get to spy on the sexy gay doctor if he wants to.

June

A Single Explosion (DMBJ, Pangxi + Xiao Ge) For PingPang Week, with @pangzi in mind. Here's the missing part of Ultimate Note, where Pangzi takes care of Xiao Ge in the hospital.

Dog (The Disguiser, Ah Cheng/Ming Lou) This was actually written before I saw the post going around about how the sexiest thing one guy can be is another's dog. But it's true!

And I am green, and you are wood (DMBJ/Mystic Nine) Another exchange fic, where Liang Wan gets a chance to meet all of Zhang Rishan's old (boy)friends, especially Ba Ye.

Reverse Cowgirl (Not Gay as in Take Off Your Pants and Jacket, Queer as in Dude Ranch) (@shousetsubangbang) Is this the hottest thing I've ever written for SSBB? Might just be. Lesbian ranch hands recruit a city girl.

July

Stay (Beyond Evil, Oh Jihwa/Yu Jaeyi) Because you know what that show needed? Small town lesbians.

Little Spear (The Blood of Youth, Sikong Qianluo/Xiao Se) This show has some cute het, but how it would work in bed is another matter entirely; or, two gay people try to have straight sex.

动须相应 (live-action Hikaru no Go, Yu Liang/Shi Guang) It's hard to get much gayer than the actual show without adding explicit sex, so ... here you go! Post-series boyfriends.

One Quiet Night (Kingdom, Seobi + Lee Chang/Yeongshin) This is the other thing I'm really proud of, because it too came out pretty much exactly the way I envisioned it. A nurse, a prince, and a scrappy piece of shit more or less all fall in love.

August

Hooks in My Sides (Beyond Evil, JWDS) This certainly was the most popular thing I've written all year. It's unfortunately easy to write poor Juwon having a gay meltdown.

A World Made Up of Silver and Copper (@shousetsubangbang) A prince-and-pauper scenario, this time focusing on the prince's adventures in being mistaken for himself. (Hint: they are sexy.)

September

...Funny how the first months of each semester are usually a complete wash for me creatively, huh?

October

to the beat of your heart, ch. 5 (MDZS)

Over My Dead Body (@shousetsubangbang) Nothing like the romance of possessing a corpse only to find he's not actually dead. (Note to DMBJ fans: This should taste like heihua.)

November

A fair amount of November was spent writing something that I just couldn't finish for December's SSBB, once I realized how long it'd have to be and how little free time I had. Maybe next year!

December

Antivenin (@shousetsubangbang) A mean bisexual and an even meaner lesbian team up to distract their gay boss from his terrible crush.

-

And that's it! It always feels kind of weird to see it all gathered in one place, like ... wow, that's not nearly as much as I thought it was. But at the same time, it involves a couple of pieces I feel very good about, so overall I'm going to take the win.

The most fun I had was doing my Small Fandom Summer thing, where I wrote fic for fandoms that had <1000 English-language works on AO3. Maybe I'll do that again next year!

Anyway, if you do wind up reading something, especially the original stuff, thanks. A lot of this can be a very lonely process, especially when there's not much of a built-in audience. Saying you liked something makes me feel a little less like I'm screaming into the void.

Onward to 2024!

[w2writesstuff]

by shukyou

-

He strode through the event like he was supposed to be there — which he was, or at least Jayes Tal was, and tonight he was Jayes Tal. Jayes Tal both existed and did not exist, in that he was not an actual person, but a mask that could be stepped behind as necessary. Tonight it was necessary, at the gala being held to showcase the imperial fleet’s newest mastermind-class vessel. Invitations had gone out to all the major players in the imperial economy, and as such, one had been addressed to Jayes Tal.

After an hour or so of his meandering about at an aloof distance from the rest of the partygoers, a waiter in a crisp black suit passed him with a tray of champagne flutes. One was only half-filled; he plucked that one from the batch without even so much as glancing the person carrying it. He placed his fingers under the base and felt the contours of a small, nearly flat square. With the slightest pressure, it stuck to his fingertips instead.

There. Now it was time to make a scene.

She was easy to find in any crowd; just follow the sounds of men talking about the most beautiful woman they’d ever seen. Surrounded by a dozen grinning gentlemen, she was laughing with delight every time one of them said something even vaguely witty. When she laughed, her ample bosom bounced enticingly over the plunging neckline of her dress. That was incentive enough for them to be as witty as they could be.

He broke his way into her circle of admirers with no hint of mirth on his face. When she saw him, her lovely face fell, her plum-painted lips inverting into an expression of dismay. She regained her smile a moment later, but it was diminished now, forced. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?” She had an accent neither high-class nor low-, one that vaguely sang of some far-off point of origin, but only just enough so as not to be placed.

“Julianna, please,” he said, his voice low. His eyes darted back and forth among the faces in the crowd, all of which were eyeing him with suspicion. “One dance, that’s all.”

That, she would laugh at, though the tone now had a sharp edge to it. “I’m afraid you have me mistaken for someone else,” she said with a haughty sneer. “Someone who would put up with this brutish treatment.”

He set his jaw at that. He was a powerful man; he wouldn’t let a woman speak to him like this, particularly not in front of his peers. “I am owed a dance,” he told her, his voice even with the calm that spoke of some great violence roiling beneath it. “And I collect what I am owed.”

“Is this cad bothering you?” asked a gruff career soldier with grey peppered throughout his thick black beard.

She sighed deeply and placed a hand on the concerned general’s forearm, letting it linger there long enough that he must have felt the warmth of her hand through the fine fabric of both his dress uniform coat and shirt beneath. “Don’t worry about it, my dear,” she said, then turned back to the dance-demanding intruder who had so rudely imposed on her time. “One dance, then? And you’ll let me be?”

He nodded and extended his hand. Of course he would. He kept his word. He was a gentleman.

-

[Read the rest of this story, other entries in the issue, and our complete back catalog of original queer erotic stories and art for free on the Shousetsu Bang*Bang Website]

[w2writesstuff]

Chapters: 5/7 Fandom: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) Rating: Explicit Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

New tags to this chapter: Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wedding Night, Scar Care, lots of people yelling

I'd say what this chapter is about, but the tags have got you covered.

...Also, we've broken the 100k mark? Yikes. Well, enjoy what is currently the longest chapter, at least until next chaper, which will be pretty much entirely porn. Something to look forward to!

[w2writesstuff]

by shukyou

Eyes first. If I can get the eyes open, I’m good. If not, the meat’s too far gone, which means I have to try again, and I hate fucking trying again.

This time’s okay, though. Eyelids roll up surprisingly easy, even if it takes the eyes themselves a minute. That’s fine, though; everybody’s eyes are different, even if nobody but me knows it, because how many eyes do you get to see through in your life? Me, I’ve lost count. The soft jelly settles, the focal centers slowly pull themselves into place. I can hear the pupils contract against the light. Eyes blink once, twice. We’re in business.

Next are the lungs, which will do their thing on their own once I get them going, but first I’ve got to get them going. Take the chest and imagine making space inside it. Feel the tight cage of the torso begin to shift. Pull against the meaty strain of muscles and tendons against bone until they remember how this all moves. Stretch the damp sacks of lung tissue out until the tiny spaces in them slide wetly open, one by one. Open wide and the air comes in on its own. Close and it leaves. Nobody can make air do anything. You give it a space and it fills where it can. Kind of like me.

I don’t strictly need to breathe, but it’s weird how much people tend to notice when you don’t. Same with the heartbeat. You can leave a heart still, but the blood pools in places and drains from others. I have it on good authority that shit’s unsettling. Pun slightly intended.

Plus, when you ignore the basics, everything rots faster. And then, sooner than you wanted, you have to try again. And you know how I feel about trying again.

There’s a weird roar of distort in my head, something making the world look even more unreal than it usually does. Everything’s a little like staring at the sun. So that’s what did it. Probably not any one something so much as a bunch of somethings at once, some fancy-ass substance cocktail for rich people that costs more than a car and fucks you up for a long time. In this case, permanently. I’ll have to take it slow. No sitting up too fast; learned that lesson the hard way. Bit by bit, rolling over. Trying not to roll into the … I don’t even know what all is on the sheets. I need to hose it down. If you know anything about what death does to a body, you’ll know why.

Fortunately for me, it’s naked already. It’s fairly young, too, or maybe closer to middle-aged but well-preserved. Seems like all systems are intact, all senses more or less functional, all limbs under control and responsive. Not that it’s impossible to work with absences, but workarounds take concentration. Concentration means it’s easier to fuck up. And then we’re back to trying again.

[w2writesstuff]

by shukyou

Eyes first. If I can get the eyes open, I’m good. If not, the meat’s too far gone, which means I have to try again, and I hate fucking trying again.

This time’s okay, though. Eyelids roll up surprisingly easy, even if it takes the eyes themselves a minute. That’s fine, though; everybody’s eyes are different, even if nobody but me knows it, because how many eyes do you get to see through in your life? Me, I’ve lost count. The soft jelly settles, the focal centers slowly pull themselves into place. I can hear the pupils contract against the light. Eyes blink once, twice. We’re in business.

Next are the lungs, which will do their thing on their own once I get them going, but first I’ve got to get them going. Take the chest and imagine making space inside it. Feel the tight cage of the torso begin to shift. Pull against the meaty strain of muscles and tendons against bone until they remember how this all moves. Stretch the damp sacks of lung tissue out until the tiny spaces in them slide wetly open, one by one. Open wide and the air comes in on its own. Close and it leaves. Nobody can make air do anything. You give it a space and it fills where it can. Kind of like me.

I don’t strictly need to breathe, but it’s weird how much people tend to notice when you don’t. Same with the heartbeat. You can leave a heart still, but the blood pools in places and drains from others. I have it on good authority that shit’s unsettling. Pun slightly intended.

Plus, when you ignore the basics, everything rots faster. And then, sooner than you wanted, you have to try again. And you know how I feel about trying again.

There’s a weird roar of distort in my head, something making the world look even more unreal than it usually does. Everything’s a little like staring at the sun. So that’s what did it. Probably not any one something so much as a bunch of somethings at once, some fancy-ass substance cocktail for rich people that costs more than a car and fucks you up for a long time. In this case, permanently. I’ll have to take it slow. No sitting up too fast; learned that lesson the hard way. Bit by bit, rolling over. Trying not to roll into the … I don’t even know what all is on the sheets. I need to hose it down. If you know anything about what death does to a body, you’ll know why.

Fortunately for me, it’s naked already. It’s fairly young, too, or maybe closer to middle-aged but well-preserved. Seems like all systems are intact, all senses more or less functional, all limbs under control and responsive. Not that it’s impossible to work with absences, but workarounds take concentration. Concentration means it’s easier to fuck up. And then we’re back to trying again.

[w2writesstuff]

Fandom: 괴물 | Beyond Evil (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Han Joo Won/Lee Dong Sik (Beyond Evil) Characters: Han Joo Won (Beyond Evil), Lee Dong Sik (Beyond Evil) Additional Tags: Pining, Masturbation, Breaking and Entering, Han Joo Won is Bad at Feelings (Beyond Evil), i love that that’s a tag, Post-Canon

Summary: Han Juwon is breaking into houses again.

It’s time for another piece of Small Fandom Summer ‘23! This one is skating the edge of the parameters I set up for “small” – there are over 1000 works on AO3 for this pairing alone, to say nothing of the fandom as a whole, but only before you sort by English.

I have to say that one of my particular joys as a writer is indulging in narrators who aren’t just unreliable in retrospect, but are clearly unreliable even at the time, confidently assessing situations in ways that the reader can clearly see are not accurate. Couldn’t tell you why that came to mind.

Anyway, should you want to read a story where Han Juwon reverts to old habits, has a lot of emotions, and jerks off about it, here you go!

[w2writesstuff]

by shukyou

He stared into the mirror in horror as his hideous visage stared back at him.

His breath stank in his own nostrils, coming back to him with a smell so hideous, it seemed only the underworld could have produced it. The eyes that met his gaze were familiar, but everything else was horribly wrong. The lower half of his face sported a terrifying grin of pointed yellow teeth, black lips stretching back skin the color of fresh blood. His hair was gone, rendered into a smooth crimson dome that hugged the shape of his skull. From either side of his head, pointed ears stuck out and wiggled every time he so much as inclined his head. Try though he might, he couldn’t manage a return to his prior state. The change, it seemed, was permanent.

He hadn’t even wanted to go to this fucking party anyway.

[w2writesstuff]

JULY By luck, or chance, or maybe fate, I was the only wait-er in the waiting room when the neurosurgeons came in, one walking, one wheeling. The latter had the blank, semi-human almost-face of cutting-edge medical droid technology. Maybe its partner had brought it along so she could teach it how to tell friends and family that a loved one had passed away. Empathy lessons in real time, with me as today’s case study. The human surgeon pulled a white mesh down from over the bottom half of her face. “The surgery was a success, and Senator Rask is in stable condition.” For what felt like years, I just stared there, my gaze frozen on her wide, pretty mouth, trying to use my mind to will her to repeat that sentence, just in case I’d somehow managed to misinterpret the words ‘he’s’ and ‘dead’. I had seen the bright red fan his brains and blood had painted all over the white marble wall, after all; I still had some of both on my otherwise silver tie. The surgical droid whirred softly as it leaned a little closer to me. Its own appendages were clean. “May we speak to the family of Kayin Rask,” it said, its voice dropping pitch slightly on the last three syllables as its voice synthesizer composed proper nouns to insert into its otherwise-prepared script. “I’m—” I scrubbed at my face. Sunlight was still streaming in from the windows outside, but this was high summer north of the Arctic Circle, so I had no idea what time or even what day it was. Mauri and Clio had been here earlier, but now they were both gone without so much as a coat left on a chair. “I have power of attorney,” I said, because it was true, and because sometimes for people like us, that’s even better than family.

[w2writesstuff]

by shukyou

“Of course, you should never pop the cork. If you do it right, the sound should be” –and there it was, that gentle exhale– “as soft as a lover’s sigh.”

Two tables over, Avery was trying not to shred his cocktail napkin into too many small pieces. It wasn’t even the first time he’d heard Baldwin do this, or the tenth, or even likely the hundredth. It was his same song-and-dance every time patrons ordered a bottle of champagne: come over to the table, introduce himself as the proprietor of the establishment, chat with them about what special occasion had inspired such a purchase, and open it for them with gentle southern charm so thick it hung in the air long after he’d walked away again.

It was a quiet night at the Pearl Club, which was why Avery was still there. Well, that, and he was on a deadline. The cocktail bar rarely filled on Tuesday evenings, so Avery didn’t feel so bad about taking up a whole table by himself, which was what he was doing at the moment, covering the small surface with his laptop, two different stacks of handwritten notes, a half-empty bowl of spicy ginger peanuts, and a glass of black coffee.

Just two more pages to go, and then he could send off this chapter. It might not be good, but it would be done, and that was what mattered.

[w2writesstuff]

Category: M/M

Fandom: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)

Relationship: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Mò Xuányǔ; Wēn Qíng (Módào Zǔshī); Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín; Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín; Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén; Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī; Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Burial Mounds Settlement Days (Módào Zǔshī); First Kiss; First Time; Frottage; Plot With Porn; Time period jumps; much more to be added with later chapters across the board; we're going on an adventure; Golden Core Reveal (Módào Zǔshī); Alternate Core Reveal; Canon-Typical Violence; Discipline Whip (Módào Zǔshī); some well-earned breakdowns and crying

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Chapter 3 is up! We're halfway there! (We're not almost halfway there. We're at 48182 words and there's going to be so many more. This is what happens when you leave my wife and me alone for too long. I'd apologize but I'm not sorry.)

[w2writesstuff]

My 2022 Writing Output

January A Little Off the Top (Guardian) Two Truths and a Lie (Word of Honor) Excuses (The Untamed) Borrowed Skin (Guardian) Creative License (Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty) You're the Voice that Calls Me Home (Word of Honor) Family (follow-up to Walkies) Water and Solutions (Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty)

February Additional Tags: RPF, First Time, Bandmates to Lovers, OTP (SSBB)

March

April All This Damn Gravity (SSBB)

May I'm just going to list the entirety of Dragon City Interior Design (@dragoncityinteriordesign) here, with the understanding that it spans most of May-September

June Unseemly (SSBB) this one post about Guardian that someone recorded????

July

August to the beat of your heart chapters 1 & 2 (Untamed, co-written with The Wife) Good Chemistry (SSBB)

September Pépito is Out (DMBJ) (that someone else recorded????)

October The Long Dark (SSBB)

November Sounds Like (DMBJ) The Homecoming (Qi Ye) The Spreading Rot (The Untamed) One, Two, Three (Nirvana in Fire) Your Legs Over My Thighs (Guardian) Bed and Breakfast (DMBJ) Big Talk (DMBJ)

December All That Rises (SSBB)