#I do have another WIP for Mary- who in this scene is stood in front of Stede- against the fireplace- which has just | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

asirensrage · 1 year

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Find the Word Tag Game

I was tagged by @residentdormouse.

This should be interesting... lol. Let's see if I can find things that aren't already shared.

My words: hushed, cried, screamed, laughed, shuddered

Hushed (so apparently I rarely use this word...this is from At The End of Everything which was a SPN fic that was left open to be a Dean x OC one... - written back in like 2010)

Ace was leading the way out when we heard something behind us. I turned quickly to see a couple of people covered in blood. Ace hushed Mary and they spotted us. "Fuck!" We ran for the entrance as they ran after us. I stopped and turned, letting Ace lead Mary out. There were three of them. I aimed and shot, sending one of them flying back. I turned and jumped through the broken glass front. Ace had stopped in front of the car. I turned and aimed at the two that were coming through the store. I heard two shots and they both went down. They didn't come from next to me though where Ace stood.

Cried - Tammy Thompson Takes on the Upside Down

“Shit!” Dustin cried out again. “Go!” He led us through a side door and we ran down an empty hall. It felt like ages but he finally stopped. “Come on,” he strode out casually and we all tried to follow. I recognized the movie theatre instantly. We went into the first theatre we saw. I was hungry but Steve actually stopped at the garbage, grabbing popcorn out of it. “Ew,” I grabbed onto Erica instead.

Screamed - This is from an abandoned LOTR wip lol

"You are certain?" "Yes." "Then send her." It hurt. Unable to describe it in words, she screamed. "Where is she?! Where is my sister?!" "We don't know. She was gone in the morning. She must have left in the night." "She wouldn't leave! Not without letting us know." "She was not here." "We could shield her from the pain." "She needs to go through this to understand."

Laughed - (not me writing out the scene I tried to draw yesterday...)

I don’t know how I did it. I’m scared of heights, if I’m honest, so I’m not sure how I ended up behind its head, legs over its shoulders and my feet crossed under its neck to make sure I didn’t fall off. All I knew was that I needed to stop it. I wasn’t going to let it eat her. I had one hand under its jaw, trying to keep it closed, while the other was on the side of its head, helping me keep balanced. It just laughed at me. “You can’t…kill me…” “Run!” I shouted at her as she stared at me in shock. “Get out of here!” “I’m going to eat you–” “No you’re not,” I ground out, pulling back as hard as I could in order to keep it from reaching her. It sounded like a rip, like the crack that ice makes when you step on it. The thing’s laughter stopped suddenly and I kept pulling, hoping maybe I was giving her some time to get away. I almost fell backwards when the pressure suddenly released.

Shuddered - Another abandoned WIP. This one for From Dusk to Dawn

“How the hell are we supposed to know who we’re looking for?” Seth grumbled, passing around the drinks after paying the bartender. “It’s her,” Richie said. He motioned at the stage. “She’s the one.” “How the fuck do you know?” Seth snapped. Kate sipped at the coke and listened. The woman was staring at the three of them as she sang. “They used to be just like me and you They used to be sweet little boys But something went horribly askew Now killing is their only joy” “Well that’s creepy,” she heard Seth mutter. Kate shuddered, an eerie sense of déjà vu upon her as she stared at the stage.

this entire search just made me realize I need to work on my descriptions lol

Your words: tremble, blood, little, asking, cracks

soft tagging: @chickensarentcheap @ninjasawakenedmystar @stanshollaand @starcrossedjedis @nadja-antipaxos @reyofluke-ocs and anyone else who wants to join

#I need to be better #lol #this was hard to find things I haven't shared before #find the word game #tag games

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ithinkthereforiamfandom · 5 years

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Teaser for S3 fix it!

(Untitled, WIP, BAMFcroft, BadMary. For @superwholocklmt who won't stop feeding me ficfuel so I'm posting this as a snack. And @imrisah who's art inspired BAMFcroft and it the Only reason I had to write The Rescue)

It had been six months since Sherlock jumped and John was still drowning so when Mycroft called about a piece of Moriarty's network that was sniffing around he was only too happy to return to the war. The mission was not what he expected though, "Mary" was under orders to befriend him as well as monitor him for signs of Sherlock being alive and John had laughed bitterly at Mycroft's explanation but agreed that Sherlock would find it amusing to be bluffing their agent. So John took the mission and it was surprisingly easy as Mary was pretty, and kind in her cover story. She was always eager to listen to stories of Sherlock, probably trying to gain information but it helped his own grieving to talk and as months turned into a year he moved in with her as an expected progression to the relationship.

There was still movement in Moriarty's web but when cells rapidly started going dark Mycroft asked John to step closer to the target. It had been two years since the fall when Mycroft suggested that John propose as a final test of Mary's orders... but he’d then buggered off for a few weeks afterwards so John had had to make his own plans and this is how he ended up at The Landmark with an overpriced ring and sweaty palms when a thinner but otherwise normal looking Sherlock Holmes appeared on the scene, and it had been a scene. John was furious at Sherlock for not telling him and at Mycroft for not warning him so they knocked about the streets for a while and John knocked Sherlock about a bit too. He was so hurt and just so done with the bloody Holmes brothers as he went home with his assassin almost fiancé… and how fucked up was his life that he breathed a sigh of relief when their front door swung closed on the world.

…

He was not shaving for Sherlock Holmes and he was not going to see Sherlock after work, he was going to see Mycroft and tear him a new one before they rearranged their whole plan because Sherlock was alive and that changed everything, the network had been quiet for ages but that meant nothing while he shared a bed with Mary. Would she make a move for Sherlock or one of the sniper targets, would she kill John in his sleep... He had no idea so he just went to work.

(The Rescue MycPoV "flashback")

Mycroft had prepped in short order as contrary to his brothers opinion he was in fact in condition and up to date on the tactics and protocols for field work agents. He had started the process with the commencement of Lazarus and it had been the only part of the plan that made his brother smile but now he had to go undercover, learn Serbian, find his brother and get them out alive. He had not informed Sherlock of Mary as there were more important things for his brother to be doing and John had his mission well in hand. The plane would land soon so he checked his uniform, firearms, grenades and marched off the plane to collect his sibling.

…

It took almost a day to gain fluency in the language which was more guttural than lyrical, the last few years in the office were starting to show. Getting in had been easy as authority moved and stood in the same way in every country and watching that simpleton beat his brother had been necessary to endure but getting out was becoming another story. He had his injured baby brother in tow and these idiots just did not understand that Mycroft Holmes CBE was leaving the premises! He pulled the second uniform shirt he had been wearing over Sherlock's wounds before settling him in a safe corner and pressing a light hand gun into his shaking grasp. The brothers shared a nod and Mycroft left to Unleash Hell. He could still hear the echo of his brother’s pained cries as he walked away from the crumpled form of his sibling so there was no reason for these people to keep breathing.

The pin slid out of the grenade like it had been oiled and a second one followed it through the double doors before Mycroft brought his gun to bear on the screams in the mess room, it was a mercy really the food was terrible in this place. He had already set a small storage room alight intending the small blaze to draw emergency responders before the main event and on cue a while later there was a resounding percussion through the compound as they lost a good portion of their firefighters and medics, the burning bodies had already been dead though.

He put two bullets into the head of the last man who was choking too slowly on a throat full of shrapnel and slammed in a fresh magazine while turning to go but he spotted Sherlock, never one to stay put, standing in the door way long haired like his Uni days and it was only the bruising and pained stance that stopped Mycroft from smiling. Sherlock was staring disbelieving at the bodies and Mycroft bit down on reminding him that he had passed MI5 training with the higher scores and just got a gentle arm around Sherlock instead. The car was where he left it and Sherlock had slumped into the passenger seat at once, Mycroft found getting himself into the car was easy now that he was no longer wearing large amounts of ordinance, the grenades were spent and he had dropped the first two guns when they ran out of ammo, magazines were annoyingly bulky after a while too.

He pulled away from the compound and barked a seat belt reminder to Sherlock before locking the belt himself and shoving his cap at Sherlock to hide his curls. Belgrade airport had enough bustle that two extra uniforms would hardly stand out and the military struck enough fear in the general population that they would not be questioned. He bullied the ground staff through a barely efficient flight check and the chartered plane took off in short order so Mycroft began first aid as soon as they were in the air. They were due in Slovakia but if money could not turn the plane to Italy the gun would, he would fly the damn thing himself if he needed to. Italy would see proper medical care for Sherlock before they drove home via France to avoid detection, the emergency supplies they’d collected from boot of the car would ensure that they fit in and Mycroft was looking forward to returning to a first world country after weeks hunting for his precious cargo.

…

The Italian government was only to happy to assist Mr Mycroft Holmes, Commander of the Order of the British Empire, in aiding the injured and nameless MI5 agent in his care and smiling eyes met as the brothers remembered Mycroft accepting the knighthood and Sherlock's endless teasing, they shrugged in unison. It came in handy now though as they settled into a hotel room, knowing her Majesty would pick up the tab and that a few nights billed in a hotel would hardly be noticed. Mycroft had a long hot soak before he made calls for clothes and simple foods, Sherlock had been starved and would need to take things slowly. He had never been good at that and Mycroft wondered if bringing John along would have helped, he was the only one who ever got Sherlock to simply slow down.

Sherlock stared at the tomato and pasta his big brother had brought to his bedside, Safe, Food, Clean. It didn’t feel real, he was going to wake up at some stage but for now he ate like his brother told him and lay down as instructed. He had learned that following instructions helped so he closed his eyes and waited for it all to start again…

So much for Safe, and Food, and Clean. Sherlock shook in his brother’s arms, they were in his dreams waiting for him. The simple pasta marinara had been ejected but he couldn’t figure out if it was because it was too rich or because of the night's terrors. The sweat was the worst of it, it clung to him as a tangible reminder of that horrible place in his own skin. He had scratched frantically trying to get it off but Mycroft had climbed onto his bed and restrained him like he was a child again, having the old nightmare of fire and digging. He leaned against Mycroft hoping that those nightmares did not return as well and he missed John; unfamiliar medics had attended him with cold professionalism where John would have had something to say, or mostly likely would have scolded his annoyance affectionately at the state Sherlock was in, John would understand the nightmares too but he was dead to John Watson and the comfort of his friend.

Mycroft didn’t think Sherlock knew he was crying but he wept and mumbled about the Italian doctors not being John Watson. Mycroft had checked in on John's mission with Anthea who confirmed that everything was on track and that John had forwarded an impressive invoice for the ring.

(End of flashback)

*EDIT* Part 2

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arirashkae · 7 years

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whatevertotesyourgoat mentioned you in a post

“*pokes head out from underneath the metaphorical rock I live under*...”

…@imsorryabouttheangst @4ever-tuckington-lover @everywriterneedsfanart @ arirashkae (I know you were…

bizarrebird mentioned you in a post

“I got tagged by @wordsysayswords and @sroloc–elbisivni for the post...”

…@confessionforanothertime, @whimsical-writer, and @ arirashkae . I’m a little…

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“Heyo! I was tagged by @wordsysayswords. The meme is to share the first...”

…@riathedreamer, @a-taller-tale, @whatevertotesyourgoat, @ arirashkae , @anneapocalypse, @overlyzealousegg and…

secretlystephaniebrown mentioned you in a post

“Tagged by @littlefists and @a-taller-tale to post the first line of...”

…@whimsical-writer @hakanakiki and @ arirashkae

birdsbeesandlemonadetrees mentioned you in a post

“First Lines Meme”

…@littlefists, @confessionforanothertime, @whereigowhenimnothere, @ arirashkae , @texelations, @jennypen, @shir-oh-no,

birdsbeesandlemonadetrees mentioned you in a post

“I was tagged by @littlefists for the WIP meme thing. the meme thing...”

…@thebettersawyer, @zasmine599, @cleverest-url, @ arirashkae , @whereigowhenimnothere (*whisper screaming*…

illumynare mentioned you in a post

“First lines meme! List the first lines of your last 15 stories. See if...”

…@a-taller-tale, @littlefists, @hakanakiki, @ arirashkae , @alak-cool)

LMAO I LOVE YOU GUYS

First lines meme! List the first lines of your last 20 15 10 stories. See if there are any patterns. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Also!

Write down the first line of your WIP and tag as many people as there are words!

ok, rather than continue the feedback loop of tagging, I’m gonna merge these two memes and answer them all at once, and then not tag anyone

Gonna alternate between my AO3 and WIPs here

‘Oh, that is not fucking fair.' : Quod Cattus Respice In Trahebatur, 2017 Fluff Week prompt, outtake from the Cat!AU

(WIP) “Boss? I need to talk to you for a minute.” (I feel bad about this one, because normally I like the ship that’s upcoming, but this brain weasel will. not. go. away.)

“Wash! Dude! Where the hell have you been?” : Agent Washington, Chick Magnet, another fluff week prompt, and I am predictable XD

(WIP) It shouldn’t be reassuring, hearing meaningless rambling coming from a flash of orange just out of the corner of his eye. (little bit of Locus & Grif on their way to do a Big Damn Heroes)

“I’m sorry, Sam, but this is exactly why we put you down as an emergency contact.” : What Little Girls Are Made Of, 3rd Fluff Week prompt, in another Universe, Locus stays with the Wus (this one went a bit sideways XD)

(WIP) Emily Grey is a miracle, determined to save her friend. (ok, those of you who were in chat with me back in February might remember the moment when I first experienced “seeing red”. this is the fallout of that and, uh, is not happy. probably won’t get posted, but another brain weasel that won’t leave.)

Maryland knew the stages of dehydration and starving. : Poor Mary Is A-Weeping, 2017 Angst War prompt that went very sideways

(WIP) Locus stared at the cleaning bot in his hands. (Stabby the Space Roomba vs. Felix, aka Locus is a little shit)

He opens his eyes. : An Eye Opening Experience, other Angst War prompt, asking for Locus traveling back to the beginning of the CHorus Arc. (Have you noticed prompts tend to go sideways? XD)

(WIP) Wash muttered his way through every curse he knew as he strode over to the "Red Base" end of the canyon. trying to write Sarge teaching Wash to knit as stress-relief/therapy

Six paces from the bars to the back of the room. Spare Key, for the 2017 Bingo War (the next handful are all Bingo War XD), Medic square: trapped in a small space together. Locus and Tucker both get nabbed by Sangheili fanatics that hate the thought of a human with a Key, not realizing there are two of them now

(WIP) “I’m not like him,” Tucker snapped. amusingly enough, the continuation of Spare Key

Donut sat back on his heels and stretched. Pine Nuts, Medic square: Mutual pining. Doc & Donut setting up their garden, and both being idiots in their own heads.

(WIP) Sam let his pencil doodle idly as he skimmed through the book in front of him. College AU, Locus accidentally screws up a translation assignment and summons a Luck Demon (Felix), who won’t go away. (Somehow turned into “How many people can I hook Locus up with in 1 fic” when I wasn’t paying attention)

“Did Santa say ‘the people of this planet?’” Touch Me and You’ll Sink, Medic sqaure: Temple of Procreation (These two were willing to cooperate until I actually started writing. Assholes.)

(WIP) Samuel Ortez, codename: 'Locus', stood at parade rest before his superior. Black-ops AU, hand to god an exercise in A/B/O dynamics and the worldbuilding that would evolve around that

When the New Republic rebels attacked and managed to cut the power to the base, Wash was in Medical with Dr. Grey, having been unsuccessful in his attempts to avoid her. Elevator Music, another “Trapped in a small space together” fill. Locus & Donut stuck in a freight elevator, with a bit of Wash panicking over the concept.

(WIP) "Ummmm, ... sirs?" A collection of scenes from my ridiculous self-indulgent BS with an OC Freelancer. (favorite bits are any time she’s at breakfast with the mercs and brain-breaking the underlings. it makes sense in context. i hope.)

“Felix, are you sure this is a good idea?” La Petite Mort et La Grande, also for “Temple of Procreation”, wherein Felix turns on the ToP while on their way to the Purge, as a distraction. tag highlight: “holy fuck you guys ‘Felix being a dick’ doesn’t even begin to cover it”

(WIP) It wasn’t music. I couldn’t end this list without touching on HeartSong, my musical not-soulmates AU. Don’t expect this one any time soon, as I’m still trying to untangle the plot threads enough to see what goes where. (Next two sentences: No one could agree on what exactly it was, but it wasn’t music. But until someone came up with a better description, most people called it music. )

So, I apparently have a tendency to start with dialog or action. :shrug: not sure if I want to stretch past that or not XD

I have some WIPs I didn’t use b/c they’re in my “drafted, needs editing” folder. This is just the things that are “actively” being written (define “active” XD)

#whatevertotesyourgoat #bizarrebird #what happened to agent georgia #secretlystephaniebrown #birdsbeesandlemonadetrees #illumynare #fic meme thingy #wip meme thingy #as I was writing this I got tagged *again*#so I had to update the replies XD

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idristardis · 7 years

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WIP Week - Day 3: Favorite WIP

Again with the posting in the middle of the night...yeesh!! At least I’m a little bit earlier than I was last night. Tomorrow, hopefully, I’ll actually get the piece posted on the day it’s meant to be posted!!

This piece is actually not that far from finished, and it just needs a couple more scenes and a bit of polishing for it to be fully ready. This was a CSSS gift that I started for Christmas 2015 and I grew to have a real soft spot for it - and the way that musician!Killian let me weave mentions of specific music into the story. I’m a bit ashamed to admit I’ve not finished it yet...but writer’s block hit, then life got in the way...hopefully though, fingers crossed, I will have it done well in advance of Christmas 2017.

This is a fragment from the beginning of Part Five of Winter Song. Part Four (with links to Parts One through Three) can be found here if you want to catch up. Enjoy a little Christmas in the summertime!!

Emma stood quietly in the semi-darkness of the kitchen in Ruth’s sprawling old farmhouse, staring out the wide window above the sink and sipping slowly at a steaming mug of hot chocolate. She watched in contemplative silence as the pale rays of the winter sun broke over the distant treeline and began to spill across the field that lay beyond the front yard and the long, winding driveway. Bit by bit, the weak beams lit up the snow-covered grass, turning the sea of white fluff that had accumulated overnight into a glittering expanse that dazzled the eye.

She smiled to herself – it’s a bit clichéd to be up this early on Christmas morning, she thought to herself, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. Like I’m impatient for my presents. But, in truth, she’d woken up nearly an hour ago and despite being very cozily bundled up under thick blankets and a downy comforter in her old room, she just couldn’t seem to fall back to sleep. She’d spent about ten minutes looking at her phone, scrolling through messages from the night before in hopes that she’d feel drowsy enough to slip back under and doze a bit more. She’d had no such luck, though she’d not been able to help the chuckle that had escaped when she’d seen the selfie Killian had texted her. In it, he and his bandmates, Will and Robin, were wearing matching elf-hats and making similar disgruntled faces at the camera. The message that had come through with it had only made her laugh harder – you should see the grouch this company’s hired to play Santa, Swan…he’s bloody awful…far more grumpy than jolly. And just look at what they made us wear!

A pang of disappointment had run through her as she’d gazed at the photo of his handsome, yet pouting face. As happy as she was to be home for the holidays, there was a fairly large part of her wishing she’d be able to see Killian today. You’ve barely been kind-of dating for three weeks – it’s a little early to be bringing him with you for family holidays, she’d admonished herself before giving up on the idea of sleep and getting up. Still, she’d not been able to curb the wave of longing that had washed over her as she’d shrugged a navy hoodie she’d borrowed from him on over her pajamas and stuffed her feet into her slippers. She’d made her way quietly down to the kitchen, hoping that the house’s perennially creaking floorboards wouldn’t give her away – she didn’t want to disturb Ruth this early, and she wasn’t up for a round of David’s over-protective big-brothering or Mary Margaret’s well-intentioned prying. She’d just wanted some cocoa, and – since sleep was apparently no longer on the cards for her – a chance to collect her thoughts.

That was how she’d found herself where she was now, enjoying the peaceful familiarity of the dim kitchen. It had always been one of her favorite rooms in the house – when she’d first been placed with Ruth, she’d gravitated towards the room’s homey warmth, and after Ruth adopted her and she officially became part of the family, she often did her homework at the large, round table in the corner while Ruth made dinner. Sometimes, she used to go downstairs in the middle of the night and make herself a cup of cocoa and sit at that table with a well-loved book until the wee hours of the morning. She smiled to herself. I guess some things never really change – middle of the night raids on Ruth’s hot chocolate supply being a case in point.

Sighing, she leaned her hip against the counter, taking another sip of her drink as she watched the sunlight creep ever-closer across the snowy expanses outside. She knew she didn’t have much more time before the rest of the household was stirring, and she still didn’t feel any more settled than when she’d gotten out of bed. Pulling her phone out from the pocket of the hoodie, she opened Killian’s selfie and found herself involuntarily smiling at it once again. She flicked through her camera roll before stopping on a different selfie, one she’d taken of the two of them, curled up in the corner of her couch just a couple of nights ago. She stared at it, a soft grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, and let her mind drift back over the past few weeks.

After their first, near-marathon length date, they’d managed to squeeze in a couple of meet ups for coffee, one night of drinks and dancing at a bar Killian somehow didn’t have a gig at, and one proper dinner date at Nico in the North End. (She’d been particularly impressed that he’d managed to get them in there, during the holiday season no less – they were notoriously busy even during a normal week – but when she’d asked he’d simply smirked and murmured something about having friends in the right places). Add to that the near constant stream of texting and phone calls that had passed between them and her social life had pretty much gone from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye.

One Friday night, Killian had come over to her place bearing pizza and craft beer and the two of them had settled down for a quiet night in on her couch with a holiday-themed movie playing softly in the background. They’d eaten, half paying attention to the movie while they chatted a bit about their respective days and shared soft smiles. Afterwards she’d tucked herself into his side to watch the rest of the movie, and that was when the realization had washed over her.

She was well and truly on her way to being in a relationship with him. A real one.

Her typical flight instinct had never kicked in that night at Granny’s when she’d decided to see where this thing with Killian would go, and her urge to follow her typical one-and-done pattern hadn’t reared its head in the time since. But it was still startling to her to think that there was something real, something bigger growing between them. She didn’t usually make time for this kind of thing in her life – she’d long since understood that her time in the foster system and a couple of really bad experiences with men in her late teens and early twenties had caused her to put up emotional walls. For the sake of self-preservation, she’d focused on work and school, family and friends, and had stopped really looking for anything in the way of romance or a relationship.

She’d had no qualms about satisfying her physical urges when they inevitably arose – she was a big girl, this was the twenty-first century, there was nothing wrong with a one night stand so long as she took the proper precautions – but she’d stopped looking for more than that, kindly but firmly shutting down any of the guys who had wanted to see her again. And that had worked just fine for her. Till now.

Killian was different, somehow. From the moment she’d first gone to listen to him play in the park, she’d known she was drawn to him – even if she’d not wanted to admit it to herself at the time – and though they’d had trouble connecting at first, once they had it seemed as though he’d slipped into her life nearly effortlessly, as though he’d always been there. The thought should have scared her. Normally, it would have. But as she’d had this revelation, that Friday night on her couch, curled around him as he chuckled softly at something happening onscreen, all she felt was contentment – there wasn’t a trace of fear to be found.

“Can’t say I’m surprised to find you down here,” Ruth’s soft voice pulled Emma from her memories with a jolt.

She turned to face the older woman with a smile. “Yeah, well, you know me, some habits are hard to break.”

Ruth nodded, smiling back at her. “Indeed, though you all were up so late last night I would have thought you might have slept a bit longer.”

Emma shrugged and drained the last mouthful of hot chocolate from her mug before placing it in the sink and turning to face her mother more fully. “I had a few things on my mind, I guess,” she said. “Woke up a little while ago and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Anything to do with your young gentleman there?” Ruth asked evenly, gesturing towards Emma’s hand, and she realized that she was still holding her phone, the photo of her and Killian still visible on the screen.

Emma looked down at her phone, feeling the warmth of a blush spreading across her cheeks. Apparently, it was always embarrassing to have your mother catch you mooning over a boy, no matter if you’re in your late twenties and not a gangly sixteen-year-old thinking about your first crush. “Oh, um,” she fumbled over her response, dismissing her camera app and tucking the phone back into her pocket before looking back up at Ruth. “Maybe?”

#ouat #ouat ff #cs ff #captain swan #wip week #my fic #winter song #i'm so close to finishing this one #i know i said that yesterday #but it's true of both pieces #i can't believe this one's taken me so long #i feel so bad for my poor giftee #it WILL be finished WAY before this coming holiday season

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