#Sarah Writes

[911-on-abc]

I am tired of SEAL!Buck AUs. Where are my superstar football player!Buck fics?

Where are my fics where Buck gets drafted into the NFL instead of flunking out of college? Where are my fics where Buck could pull any girl he wanted, but feels emptier and emptier after each hookup? Where are my fics that have Buck at the top of the world, but no one ever told him it would be this lonely?

Where are my fics where Eddie pulls overtime by being the on call EMT for Buck's home team games? Where are my fics where Eddie doesn't know shit about the NFL (baseball is more his speed), so when a guy offers to give him a ride home after his truck breaks down in the arena employee parking lot, he doesn't recognize who he is?

Where are my fics where Eddie has Buck swing by Pepa's house and Christopher comes running out, smiling into his fathers arms, and Buck wants, wants, wants. Where are my fics where Eddie finds out who Buck is and doesn't care? Where Buck can't remember the last time he was at his penthouse, because when he's not on the road, he's at Eddie's, sleeping on his too small couch (and he knows it's not good for his back – he's a pro-athlete – but he's never played better since he met the Diazs) and making them waffles in the morning?

Where are my fics where Buck's leg gets broken during a game and Eddie's there holding his hand as he sobs in the ambulance? Where Eddie helps Buck through the recovery process, and stays by his side even when Buck curses, and cries, and doesn't know who is without the sport that got him away from his parents, out of his hometown, and all the way to Eddie?

Where are my fics where Buck is on top of the world, but when the stands are empty, and the locker room clears out, Eddie is waiting for him, leaning next to the passenger side door of his jeep? Where Eddie hands Buck the keys, and Buck gives Eddie a kiss, and they hold hands as they drive home together and Buck doesn't feel alone anymore

#911 fox #911 abc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911 fic #I guess? #more of a ficlet #evan buck buckley #I know nothing about the NFL #like at all #but I'm surprised that I haven't seen any fics that touch on buck's past as a "football star” #if u like this let me know #and I could write more idk??? #NFL au #NFL!Buck #sarah writes #my post

[aringofsalt]

Writing a thing. Here's a lil snippet 💕 Gareth & co are trying to get Eddie laid so they drag him to a kink dance night at a local gay bar that Steve&Robin help run. Eddie's taking a minute in the bathroom cause he's overwhelmed and Gareth is waiting in the hall for him when Steve finds them.

---

“So, what d’you think so far?” The voice outside the door wasn’t one Eddie recognized.

“It’s pretty cool,” Gareth’s voice replied. “But honestly, from the Facebook group I thought there’d be more spankings. I’ve only seen one since we got here.”

“Oh, more spankings, huh?” The strange voice said with a laugh. “Why, did you want one?” Eddie opened the bathroom door and froze, finding himself face to face with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. He was tall and athletic, with big brown eyes and a swoop of hair that defied gravity. He was wearing a mesh top dotted with little glittery stars and jeans that looked even more form-fitting than Eddie’s, which was saying something.

“No, I don’t, but he does,” Gareth the Betrayer said sweetly. Before Eddie could protest, Gareth hooked an elbow into his and shoved him toward the stranger, who just laughed and reached out to steady Eddie’s shoulders with his big, warm hands.

“I only spank the willing and no offence, sweetheart, but you look a little unsure tonight,” he said kindly, giving his shoulders a firm squeeze before stepping back.

“No, I—what, I was just not expecting—I’m—yep, totally willing,” Eddie sputtered, still feeling the warmth of the stranger’s hands on his shoulders. “I’m Eddie?” He winced a little, practically feeling Gareth’s eyes rolling from behind him, and resisted the urge to hide behind his hands and hair as he usually did.

“You sure?” The stranger gave him a little smirk, and oh Jesus he was wearing lip gloss. Eddie was learning a whole lot about himself tonight.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay, Sure, I’m Steve,” the stranger—no, Steve—joked, poking Eddie in the shoulder. “But no, seriously, no pressure, man."

#steddie #sarah writes #my fic #why can't i do read more on mobile 😭 #anyway steve's got dad jokes and i love that for him #stranger things

[sunshiinnne]

I hope you heal from the things you don't speak about.

#for i know you've been through a lot #🕊️🩷 #spilled feelings #wishes #light academia #self care #sarah writes #writerblr #girlblogging #txt post

[luckydicekirby]

happy yuletide reveals! i wrote a post-canon some desperate glory fic about kyr, magnus and avi dealing with All Of That (the events of some desperate glory). badly <3

no prayers nor bells, t, 8k.

Three sleepless nights in Raingold. Or, Kyr gets drunk with the worst person in the universe, Avi plays a game, and Magnus loses a fight with his sister.

#also there's ddr. #avi&kyr worsties is SO important to me #sarah writes #some desperate glory #i listened to the audiobook to reread and did y’all know the audiobook fucks

[writer-inthe-dark27]

It's not that I intended to take the slower, harder path

I didn't choose to be wrenched from safety's loving arms

And plopped onto a crumbling road in the back country

But I have trekked through these valleys for so long now

I can't imagine turning back to the highways I used to drive

And going the easy way at the cost of the strength I've earned

-S.A.

#poetry #poets on tumblr #poem #my writings #sarah writes #sarah's poems #my words #creative writing #free verse #spilled ink

[grey-water-colors]

Try Losing One

Jason Todd X Fem! Reader

It's another Song Fic because I like writing these and they're theraputic for me. I found this song and all I could think of was a relationship with Jason Todd. It's based on Try Losing One by Tyler Braden.

Link to the song: https://youtu.be/2IoiLh0jPfY

Summary: All the times Jason loses her.

Warnings: Angst! cheating, mentions of violence, alcohol mentions.

Pairing: Jason Todd X Fem! Reader

Word Count: 1,491

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's hard to get a number

It's hard to get that dance

It's hard to talk a girl

Into ditching all her friends

It's hard to get that first kiss

It's hard to make one fall

It's hard to get the courage

Up to give her dad a call

And if all that ain't hard enough

Try losing one

Jason hadn’t been much of a flirt before he died, he hadn’t thought much about girls at all really, but he was grown now and had seen so much more of the world than anyone ever should. Now as an adult, he didn’t want to, couldn’t, place the burden of what he did on another’s shoulders.

But then he met her. She lived in the apartment across the hall from him. She was so nice, so polite, and charismatic. It went against every barrier he had put up, every lesson he had ever learned, but he wanted to know her like no one else did. He wanted to be the one she smiled at, the one who made her laugh, who did everything with. Building up the courage was ironic, he fought villains all the time, but asking a girl if she wanted to get dinner with him was making his knees shaky.

And of course, you had said yes, and of course you were as lovely as he knew you’d be, and even though he was new to all of this, you made it seem easy. You were easy to love.

So easy to love, so why did he keep messing up the only good and right thing that had happened to him.

Try walking through the door of an empty house

Try staring at the wall pouring whiskey out

Try living with knowing that you let her down

Try trying like hell not to think about

That hurt in her eyes as she turned around

If you think finding a girl you can't live without

Is the hardest thing you've ever done

Try losing one

The first time was an accident, he waited to long to tell you about the second, bloodier, part of his life. A call from his older brother to tell you that he wouldn’t be home for a few days because he got shot too close to the heart.

Understandably, you asked for a few days, but your absence in his apartment weighed heavy. He tried to convince himself that what he did was right, that dragging you in the know would put you in danger. He tried not to think about that look on your face as you walked away.

At the end of the day though, he decided that no matter how right he knew he was, losing you would be worse.

It's hard to come home early

Them last call home come so late

Pride is hard to swallow

And sorry is hard to say

And taking her for granted

Is an easy thing to do

And if you wanna see the kind of hell

A girl can put you through

Try losing one

Now that you knew, he crept in through the window of your shared apartment. You were asleep and he kicked himself for not coming home sooner. You tried to stay up, but he knew you couldn’t wait up forever, not when the morning was so harsh to you.

He tried to apologize in the morning, a sincere apology he reserved only for you, but his stupid pride. It turned into an argument, and you left with tears in your eyes.

Later that night, after real apologies were made, and you were smiling and laughing, he told you about the Gala that Bruce was putting on. He had to go, but he asked if you’d be his plus one. His heart soared at the excitement in your eyes. You had never been to a gala, never had a reason other than prom to dress up in a fancy dress.

The night of the gala you were a sight, a dress that made him want to never let you go. The awe and joy in your eyes made his heart glow. You were so special.

And so easy to love, and he took that for granted, and dropped it like a glass balloon.

Try walking through the door of an empty house

Try staring at the wall pouring whiskey out

Try living with knowing that you let her down

Try trying like hell not to think about

That hurt in her eyes as she turned around

If you think finding a girl you can't live without

Is the hardest thing you've ever done

Try losing one

Maybe if he had gone with you to get some champagne then he wouldn’t have ended up in the mess he’d made. You walked away for one second, a joy laced in your tone, and a girl he barely remembered from Gotham Academy was suddenly on his arm.

She was also charismatic, nothing like you, but she was also persuasive and before his mind could catch up, he was walking to a corner and she was all over him.

He didn’t know how long it’d been, but he knew he had to get back to you. And just as he thought that he heard you.

“Oh,” you said just loud enough to be heard, your shoulders dropping like the world fell on them. He watched the joy and excitement in your eyes turn to confusion, turn to sadness. He wanted to shoot himself, oh, that’s all you said, like you knew it was bound to happen to you eventually, like reality had come up to meet you and he hated himself for it.

You turned to leave and as you were walking away, you turned back to look at him, pain and hurt in your eyes, and he let you go. Nothing he could say could mend the mess he’d made.

You weren’t there when he got home. No sign you had even come home at all. He grabbed some whiskey and sat on the couch.

For tonight, he would pretend that he wasn’t the biggest joke the universe had made. Pretend that he hadn’t just lost you, hadn’t just screwed up royally.

Like he wasn’t facing the possibility of losing the girl he couldn’t see himself without.

Try losing one

Try missing her every night

Holding on

Barely getting by

A love like that

It might be hard to find

But try losing one

You had been gone for a week, and he let you have your space. He had tracked you down after that first night just to make sure that you were safe. Your chosen refuge was your art studio, armed with extra clothes and a pull-out couch.

Sleeping without you was hard. Living without you was harder and Gotham felt it.

Crime rate had dropped by percentages, and even thugs were afraid to go out at night in fear of facing the Red Hood’s rath. How pitiful he looked and how pathetic he felt.

You knocked on his door, a look in your eyes that he couldn’t quite place. You asked what happened, and he was honest.

After a while you said you didn’t want to break up, that you wanted to get past this. He leapt at the second chance. He wouldn’t fail you again.

Except, when you were threatened, and his reality, the one he had been avoiding, finally reached him.

Try walking through the door of an empty house

Try staring at the wall pouring whiskey out

Try living with knowing that you let her down

Try trying like hell not to think about

That hurt in her eyes as she turned around

If you think finding a girl you can't live without

Is the hardest thing you've ever done

He packed his things, if he was going to abandon you like this, then he certainly wasn’t going to make you move after. He left the things he knew you would’ve kept anyways. Left the things that meant the most to him, that he knew you would pour over hoping to find an answer. He was selfish like that, he wanted you to still think of him even though he was about to break your heart.

There was a tiny thread of hope though, and it lived in the darkest corner of his heart where he hoped to smother it, that he could come back to you, and you would let him, and everything would go back to normal.

He left a letter on the kitchen table where you set your keys when you got home. It was an excuse that he didn’t want to burden you anymore, that it would be easier if he went back to being a one-man-band.

And, as he closed the door behind him, he knew that losing you was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done.

Try losing one

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #the batman #batman #x reader #red hood x reader #red hood #dc #dc fic #fanfic #writing #sarah writes #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #alfred the cat #bruce wayne #titus the dog

[just-sarah--things]

My Castle Crumbled Overnight

Here is a new Alex and Henry Fic inspired by Taylor Swift. My requests are open if you have any you want to submit. If you enjoyed don't forget to like and Reblog and send me any feedback you may have.

My Castle Crumbled Overnight

Henry POV:

“‘My castle crumbled overnight…

They took the crown but it's alright

All the liars are calling me one…”

The Waterloo Letters. A moment that will forever define his and Alex’s relationship, Whether they wanted it to or not this is how the world finds them. The walls of the safe castle him and Alex built have been torn down. His mind is stuck on two thoughts and two thoughts only.

1. The Crown

2. Alex

First off not only is it the crown, it was his family, and the whole country of England. How could he have let this happen, let his family down, but did he truly let them down by taking directions from his heart. And his heart led him directly to thought number two, Alex. His Alex, the person he was slowly falling in love with, the person he wasn't sure he wanted the world to know about. But when you live a public life (whether he wanted to or not) there are no such things as secrets.

Alex POV:

“Bridges burn, I never learn

At least I did one thing right

I did one thing right

I'm laughing with my lover

Starry eyes sparking up my darkest night”

Alex Should know better. He was reckless when it came to almost everything Prince Henry George Edward James Hanover-Stuart-Fox, he was careful when it came to protecting his heart. The memory of that day after his polo match when they were still figuring things out is burned into his memory. 

“Prince Henry Belongs to Britain. Henry Fox has to belong to himself or else he’ll vanish. ‘Can he ever belong to someone else?’ Only momentarily.” 

And Alex barged his way in and made him belong. And somehow he doesn't regret it one bit. He also thinks of all the wonderful memories he has made with Henry from the start of their forced friendship, to a new years kiss, to polo watching to making love in Paris. He Did one thing right, falling in love with Henry and barging his way in, and even if it was momentarily Alex has never regretted it once. He hopes to God that it is more than a moment  And he knows on the other side of the world Henry’s eyes are lighting up the English night and he hopes he will guide him back to Henry.

“I want to wear his initial on a chain 'round my neck

Chain 'round my neck

Not because he owns me

But 'cause he really knows me

Which is more than they can say, I

Before all hell breaks loose  Alex and Henry finally give each other  a physical reminder of their love. Alex gets to wear the initials of the one he loves on his finger because he was let into Henry Fox’s life for more than a moment and he has really gotten to know him. I recall late November, holding my breath

Slowly I said, "You don't need to save me

But would you run away with me?"

Yes (would you run away?)”

Before they Both know it Ellen’s election day comes and Henry has to keep reminding Alex to breathe. Behind closed doors Alex says to Henry “I know it will be what it will be, but would you wanna run away with me if we don’t turn Texas?” Henry just shakes his head with a small chuckle “Yes” without hesitation flows from Henry’s mouth. Before Henry Can continue Alex notices a glint of color with Henry’s navy blue suit.

 “Your Tie–” “Oh. Yes,” he says, “yellow rose of Texas, is it? I read that was a thing. Thought it might be good luck.”

In the end they did turn Texas and happened to Run away to Texas too.

Direct Quotes from:

Red, White and Royal Blue by: Casey McQuiston Call it what you want by: Taylor Swift

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #fanfic #alex claremont diaz #prince henry rwrb #rwrb movie #henry and alex #firstprince #taylor zakhar perez #nicholas galitzine #Sarah writes #my writing #light angst #Spotify #rwrbsource

[feckyeswriting]

Alina’s heart rose into her throat as they approached Fjerda. She’d never left Ravka before. And now she was heading into - rather than away from - drüskelle territory?  Madness. It was some sort of madness, she suspected. Then she would look to her side and see the Black General riding beside her, remember the stag, the amplifier, and her purpose, and find it within herself to collect her runaway worries.  Plus there was the matter of Mal. The final letter that he had last sent had all but confirmed that he would be the one in Fjerda searching for the stag. He had claimed they were the only ones going through the permafrost - himself, Mikael, and Dubrev. Of course there was an entire troop traveling through Ravka. But it was obvious to Alina that the small, stealthy ventures over the border must have been assigned to those three.  Did she feel responsible for him? Was that the reason for the anxiety clutched tight in her chest? Maybe. It explained a greater sum than her fear about the drüskelle, at least for now. Mal made his own decisions - he always had, regardless of Alina’s protests or advice - but perhaps after weeks of silence when he was writing to her, Alina had indirectly caused him to take this path. 

#sarah writes #darklina #darklina fic #s&b #s&b fic #alina x darkling

[911-on-abc]

Buddie RWRB AU Snippet

I'm never going to write this, because the suspension of disbelief involved is just too much for me to wrap my head around, but this spilled out of me before I could stop it. Enjoy!

"Why do you hate me anyway?" Eddie asked once they rearranged their limbs to sit next to each other in the cramped space of the supply closet.

Buck shot him a glare.

"What?" Eddie shrugged. "We're stuck in here for the foreseeable future. We have to talk about something."

As much as Buck hated to agree with the man, Eddie was right. Supply closet notwithstanding, they were going to spend the next 6 months pretending to like each other. Might as well get it all out in the open.

"The Olympics," Buck said.

"What?" Eddie's brows were scrunched together, in a way that Buck would never admit was almost endearing. He clearly had no idea what Buck was referring to, and Buck hated it. Buck hated how the interaction that was so significant to him, that he spent hours and hours replaying in his mind again and again, meant nothing to Eddie.

"Is 'what' the only word in your vocabulary?" Buck shot back. If Athena was here she would reprimand him for being petty – like she wasn't the pettiest person he knows.

"Wha-" Eddie caught himself and then rolled his eyes. "No. I just don't understand what the Olympics has to do with anything."

"The Winter Olympics in 2018. I went up to you and introduced myself and you turned back to your handler and asked them 'When this would be over.'" To his credit, Eddie looked stunned.

"I was the adopted son of the Democratic Nominee thrust into the public eye and I thought-" Buck had to stop himself, quickly becoming overwhelmed with emotions. He was never good at expressing himself, but he took a deep breath and continued. "I thought you would get what it was like. Empathetic even. But you looked at me like I was mud stuck on the bottom of your shoes."

There it was. He finally said it. Years of feeling inadequate and embarrassed now out in the open.

Eddie turned his head to meet Buck's eyes. He looked... sheepish, almost like he was ashamed of himself.

"In my defense, my girlfriend had just told me that she was pregnant four months earlier and I was set to ship out on mandatory military service right after the games."

Oh wow. Now he felt like a dick.

"Yeah you kind of were," Eddie chuckled after he said just that. "But I was a dick first. I'm sorry."

"I– I forgive you?" An apology was not what Buck expected, but the situation was already so absurd. There he was stuck in a broom closet having an honest to God heart-to-heart with the Prince of fucking Texas. How was this his life?

Eddie must have felt the same way, because the next time their gazes connected, they burst into giggles. Which is how Hen found them when the Secret Service opened the door.

Tagging: @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life @jesuisici33 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley (let me know if you don't want to be tagged or if u do 🫣 no hard feelings!)

#911 abc #911 fox #911 #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #posted w/o editing so pls forgive any mistakes #if u like it let me know!! #my post #sarah writes

[aringofsalt]

56!

(+ steddie, mentioned in another ask)

thank you!!! this one was fun haha i hope you enjoy 💕

56 | FALL OUT BOY - THE PINK SEASHELL

So I take pleasure in the detail, you know

It starts small.

It may even start before he notices it.

The first one he notices is a tiny wooden baseball bat on a keychain. It’s not something he would’ve bought for himself; it’s definitely not something his parents would’ve bought for him, or themselves. It’s sitting on his dresser, behind a crumpled-up shirt that had been there for longer than he cared to admit, and under it is a little post-it note that just says YOURS IS COOLER in scratchy block letters.

The handwriting isn’t Robin’s, or Dustin’s, or Nancy’s; and that’s pretty much the end of the list of people whose handwriting Steve knows by heart, so he shrugs, sticks the note to his mirror, and pockets the keychain.

He puts it on his keys the next morning, and it makes him smile every time he sees it.

The little gifts continue, and they don’t always have notes. There’s a little silver thimble one day the following week, with a single yellow flower bud in it; the following morning there’s a chocolate bar left on his windshield with a note that just says EAT UP. He finds a little pink seashell sitting on his windowsill one evening, practically glowing in the sunset. Another week passes and he’s cleaning up a few hours after a D&D session to find one of their little painted minis. This in itself isn’t weird, but this one has SIR STEVE scrawled on the bottom, and it’s a clearly heroic figure wielding a mace—thanks, Dustin, for the vocabulary—and posed like he’s rushing into danger. It has a more than passing resemblance to him, too, the hair and the eyes, and the armour painted in Hawkins green and gold. This trinket, more than any of the previous ones, gives him a hint to who may be leaving the little gifts, and he hopes he’s right as he jumps in the car, figurine still clutched in his hand.

He drives straight to Eddie’s.

It’s getting dark by the time he gets there, Eddie’s porch light a beacon in the night. The door swings open as he’s setting foot on the stairs, Eddie stepping out to lean casually on the doorframe.

“Sir Steve! To what do I owe the honour of your presence?”

“Well, funny you should mention Sir Steve,” he said, holding up the mini. Eddie stared at it, then snapped his eyes back to Steve’s.

“Um, look, I’m sorry, that’s probably weird, I can get rid of it—”

“Dude, no, if you think I’m giving this up you’re crazy,” Steve laughs. “I love it. But. It was you, leaving the other stuff too, wasn’t it?”

“Yeee-eees?” Eddie drawls out, clearly unsure what reaction he should be having. Steve can practically see the mental battle he’s having over whether to apologise again or turn it into a big joke.

“I liked the seashell,” he blurts out, before Eddie’s expression can fall any further. “I mean, I liked all of them, drove me nuts trying to recognise the handwriting, but. They were all pretty cool. I just… I just don’t get why.” He takes a step forward, emboldened when Eddie doesn’t step back. Why did you do something so nice for me is what’s flying through his head, unsaid, but he can tell Eddie sees the question anyway.

“Because you deserve it,” Eddie tells him quietly. “It’s something stupid my dad used to do for my mom when I was a kid. He always said that life is meaningless anyway, you know, you should take pleasure in little things. He’d find the most random things that made him think of her and leave them around the house for her to find. And you always do stuff for other people so,” he shrugs, “I wanted to do something for you.”

“Oh,” Steve breathes. Eddie grins back, then holds up a finger.

“Hold on, I had the next thing already, may as well give it to you in person now.”

He disappears down the hall, leaving Steve to his own devices for a minute, the sounds of clattering and shuffling papers and muttered curses flying as he searches. It only takes him a moment and then he’s back, holding a fist out, dropping the object into Steve’s waiting palm.

It’s a guitar pick, the twin of the one Eddie always wears around his neck, but instead of red and black, the one in Steve’s hand is swirled in yellow and white. Eddie’s fingers linger, tracing the contours of the pick and brushing Steve’s skin.

Steve closes his own fingers, trapping Eddie’s hand in his, smiling when the other man blinks owlishly in surprise.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “It’s perfect.”

—

send me a number 1-100 and a character/ship and i’ll write you a mini fic 💕 original post

#asked and answered #auroraplume #steddie #spotify wrapped drabble challenge 2023 #sarah writes #steddie fic #i am struggling with a couple of these but i'm getting through them damnit

[sunshiinnne]

میںپڑھتا ہوں کتابیں ،وہ شاید پڑھتا ہو انسان ۔۔

"Mein padhti hu kitaabein, vo shayad padhta ho insaan"

#sarah writes #inspired by oneof talha anjum's songs #desi dark academia #bookish #desi tumblr #shayari

[luckydicekirby]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: KinnPorsche: The Series (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham/Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun Characters: Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham, Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun Additional Tags: Post-Canon, various love languages including hand-feeding and pulling out your boyfriend's tooth with pliers Summary:

Vegas was like an animal when he was hurting; he went quiet and cagey and rude, but clingy too. Pete and Vegas both had the same impulses: to hide away from the world and lick at each other’s wounds, and to give each other more. It wasn’t practical. But part of Pete did wish they could stay here forever, Vegas hurting and snarling but safe, with Pete. It was probably selfish. Pete would feel guilty if he could, but he’d never seen the point in feeling guilty for wanting what you wanted. Everyone was greedy for something they shouldn’t have. That was just life. And if you were really lucky, you could have it anyway. Pete had never been that lucky, but Vegas had a strange way of making his own twisted kind of luck.

-

Vegas and Pete go on the run.

#vegaspete #kinnporsche the series #with thanks to fx's the americans. lmfao. #this has been in my docs since september so i'm kicking it out like a football #WHAT is more romantic than pulling your boyfriend's tooth out with pliers. do not answer that. or speak to me #sarah writes #by volume this is actually barely tooth related. but it's fine. #sometimes you end up writing like 8k of leadup to what you actually meant to write about

[writer-inthe-dark27]

My parents' generation has the nerve

To dig ditches and topple trees

Onto the road we trudge down

When their parents broke their backs

To clear these same paths for them.

-S

#poetry #spilled ink #poets on tumblr #poem #sarah's poems #sarah writes #my writings #my words #creative writing #free verse

[sarah-in-disguise]

Sarah’s Masterlist

Hey, everyone!  Welcome to my masterlist.

Here are a few notes before we get started:

While the pieces I write might not necessarily fall into the 18+/no minors category, I do share works from other authors that are.  Out of precaution, I’ve decided to make my blog 18+/no minors.

I do NOT consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third-party site or app.

Anything I write is a work of fiction and I do not own any characters in these stories.

By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms listed above.

Any questions?  Good!  Let’s get started with the fun stuff.

Run:  Steve made your world fall apart.  Can running with Bucky put you back together? (One-Shot, 6/22/22)

Free:  Building a life with Bucky has been everything you could’ve dreamed and more.  When Steve wants to give you and Bucky closure, will you take it? (Sequel to Run, One-Shot, 7/5/22)

Open It:  Over the course of a few short hours, your life flipped upside down.  Plans for yourself.  Your future with Ransom.  All the pieces you’d used to build a foundation for your future, blown away in the breeze.  What does your future look like now?  And, most importantly, will Ransom be in it? (One-Shot, 8/2/22)

Home:  Falling in love and planning your life with Jake was almost too easy.  After Jake goes on a last-minute mission, what does the future have in store for you? (One-Shot, 6/1/22)

Love on the Rocks: As you prepare for an upcoming curling match with Steve (your partner in mixed doubles curling and in life), an out of sorts day may put your game - and your love - on the rocks. (One-Shot, 6/6/2022)

Hot Stuff:  As you try to start Sue and Reed’s baby quilt for their upcoming baby shower, your iron breaks.  What is a girl to do?  (One-Shot, 7/27/2022)

#masterlist #sarah writes #jake jensen x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #johnny storm x reader #ransom drysdale x reader

[just-sarah--things]

An AU fic where Alex and Henry Breakup after the leak. Set in the book universe. First time trying to write angsty fics. Inspired by Adele.

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #alex claremont diaz #prince henry rwrb #firstprince #henry and alex #fanfic #taylor zakhar perez #rwrb fic #rwrb book #AU #light angst #angst #nicholas galitzine #sarah writes

[feckyeswriting]

Err so... I decided to write something entirely self-indulgent?? After playing about 2 hours of MW2 and watching Doc on and off finish the campaign, I have attached myself to the two best boys Soap and Ghost. So. Have some absolutely crack-treated-seriously nonsense where Johnny rescues a street cat and Simon has to be the only goddamn adult.

(also huge props to @darkworkcourier​ for the support and ~inspo~ and being the best :3 )

---

“Absolutely fucking not.”

The noise that Soap made in response was downright disrespectful. So, not altogether unexpected. “No one said I was asking. It’s quiet. I’ll be right back.”

“You’re going nowhere, Captain. Chain of command,” Simon replied. That should have been the end of the conversation altogether, but of course Soap wasn’t going to just roll over and let it go. That would have been far too mature of a response. 

“It’ll take two minutes. Three, tops. And besides, what’re you going to do about it, LT? Remember who’s on the ground and who’s up a tree,” Soap said. He was in fact serving as the boots on the ground while Simon provided cover from on high. That was how things worked during ops like these. The past four or so missions had gone smoothly. Perhaps that was why Soap was pushing the envelope now - things had been too routine. 

So Simon gritted his teeth and watched through the scope as Soap deliberately ignored the outcome of the argument in favor of doubling back. Exfil was right fucking there underneath Simon’s sniper perch. 

“Johnny…” He’d get one more warning, that was it.

“LT,” Soap bandied back after a heavy huff from dropping back over the fence he’d cleared only a handful of minutes prior. “I know you’re not going to exfil without me. No man left behind, yeah?”

“This isn’t the corps, and you don’t tell me what I will or won’t do.” 

Cheeky didn’t even begin to cover how Soap looked through Simon’s scope as he threw a wink and what definitely wasn’t a fucking kiss blown over his shoulder. Then he gamboled down the alley where Simon had to rely on IR and audio alone to follow along. 

The next time that Soap spoke it wasn’t directed at Simon. “Yeah, yeah. Real tough guy. I can tell. Don’t worry, we’re all quite impressed. But I need you to hush. Yeah. Shh, shh.” 

His mic captured the quite distinctive, if thready, caterwauling going on in the alleyway. Simon could only guess based on volume and the occasional muttered curse from Soap just how well the captain was managing to extract his target from wherever he was holed up. 

“He doesn’t want to come. Leave ‘im.” If Simon didn’t try at least one more time then, really, what was he here for? 

Another long minute of complaining from both parties. Then - “Ah-ha!” Triumph from Soap. 

Simon didn’t relax when he finally spied Soap’s head poking out from the alleyway. Nor did he appreciate having to re-check the way for the captain. To make the assumption that everything was still clear after a seven minute - not two, Simon had been watching the time tick on - detour would have been a rookie mistake. 

“Two in a patrol coming from north east. Setting ‘em up for you,” Simon called. He swapped from his spotter to the rifle scope and clocked the lead time needed. One shot took care of the driver and the collision along the sharp city street corner would stun the passenger long enough for Soap to come with his sidearm. 

There wasn’t an answering retort along comms or in the distance from Soap’s pistol. Now it was Simon’s turn to swear under his breath while he attempted to follow the rapid movement from the patrol car passenger side. The door snapped open with the passenger remaining low, out of Simon’s view save for a few wrinkles of fabric. 

Laying down suppressing fire was a viable tactic, assuming that Soap was still able to finish clearing the area. Or Simon could bide his time and let the remaining patrol soldier leave their secure position to eat some lead. The first option was preferable, if he was being honest, but it wouldn’t work well with the muffled shushing he was hearing over the comms from Soap. 

Oh, the “I fucking told you so” would be fantastic. 

“Don’t mind me, cleaning up your messes,” Simon grumbled as he levered himself up from the windowsill he’d called home for the past hour. There was only so much space in his selected perch to move across but there was a small balcony available through the attached room. 

“In what world is this my mess?” 

“Just shut up an’ let me clear.” 

“You hear that, Biscuit? We’re supposed to shut up now.” The continued chatter between Soap and his unhappy rescuee was more or less easy to tune out. Simon bided his time. The patrol soldier would get twitchy, would get confident that he could take on one chatty Scottsman hunkered down in the street. He’d rationalize that the shot which took out the driver had been from down there, not from up high. 

Or maybe he’d just be an imbecile and decide that standing up with a piddly assault rifle on his shoulder would be enough to outpace and outgun Simon. 

It was a stupid thought. 

Simon scanned for any sign of backup trundling in their direction and was pleased to find no such indication. He hiked the rifle onto his back and drew his sidearm as he began the descent downstairs. “Clear,” he stated and was treated to an actual confirmation from Soap that the captain was loading into the truck already. By the time that Simon made it out the back door, he was pleased to hear the engine running and everything. 

Regrettably all was not yet tied up in a beautiful bow. Johnny was trying to wrench the truck into gear with one hand trying to turn the wheel, work the gear shift, and pull off his gear bag that was pushing him directly against the wheel. All the while his other hand - far from free - clutched a yowling street cat who was quite literally spitting mad. 

Simon scoffed as he held the handle of the door rather than directly getting inside. “Remind me again how this isn’t failure to comply with a direct order?” he said. 

“Because Biscuit here isn’t enlisted, and even if he was, he wouldn’t report to you,” Soap retorted. The swipe that landed on his cheek was rewarding enough to watch that Simon finally threw open the door to haul himself inside. 

“Sure he would,” Simon said. “Again, chain of command.” He gestured for Soap to pass over the tomcat if only to get them actually moving away from the gunshots that would bring scrutiny for the area. The decision was quickly followed by regret as the riled up Biscuit redirected his fury - and his miniscule yet piercing claws - to the one now holding him. 

Soap finally managed to disentangle himself from his pack and get the truck moving. This stopped the scratching from Biscuit, replaced instead with the cat desperately clinging to Simon’s clothing and skin for dear life. This was not a marked improvement. 

“See,” Soap said in a blindingly congenial fashion, “you’re already pals.”

Each time that Simon removed one paw’s worth of merciless claws from his flesh the others would dig in harder. Gradually he maneuvered the cat to velcro himself to the thick padding of his vest. It was not what he would define as a friendly bit of cohabitation between the cat and himself. 

“Next time I’m leaving you on your own to exfil,” Simon said. 

Soap reached over to roughly pat the cat on his head, ignoring the complaints from both parties. “I wouldn’t have been on my own, so that’s fine by us. Right, Biscuit?” 

It was a long fucking ride back to base.

#MW2 fic #sarah writes #this doesn't even have a title yet. don't look at me