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thatsgoodsquishy0 · 6 months

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Pairing: F!Reader x Ranger!Sam Coe Rating: M+ Bio: Set during Sam’s younger years working as a Freestar Ranger alongside his wife, Lillian Hart. Whether circumstance, or impossible luck, you're given a second chance at life, ultimately growing close to The Coes. You take a shine to Cora, but the family dynamic is something else entirely, albeit a little overwhelming, as you realize the toll Lillian's absence has taken on the family, but more specifically, her husband. Sam Coe is witty, charming, and ambitious; a man who knows what he wants and stops at nothing to reach his goals, but when his wife seems to prioritize her career over her family, it's hard not to notice the strain growing inside him. Your friendship may be just the support Sam needs, even if the temptations for something more linger, and when your past threatens your future, where will your morals lie? Will you end up back where you started? Chemistry is a cruel mistress

cross-posted to AO3 credit to @seracoe for the lovely Ranger Sam pic & @cafekitsune for the divider & @fangbangerghoul and @bearlytolerant for their unwavering support and feedback. thank you so much!! <3

i. BOUND

Your wrists were bound behind your back. Scratchy twine rubbed against your skin as you wiggled your hands. Alarms blared overhead. Your head rolled as your vision bobbed. Your knees were sore. You remembered the cruelty of your captor’s instructions to never sit or lay down; you could only kneel. Through the slits of your eyes you barely registered the urgency amongst the crew as they bounced around the cockpit, like bugs inside a terrarium.

“Fuck! Fuck! They’re headed towards —- !” a bloodied scream, cracks of gunfire, liquid gurgles over the intercom.

“They just wasted Fredericks!”

“How the fuck did they find us?!”

The rope chaffed against your wrists; a sick reminder that escape was futile.

You looked to your left. Your eyes shot wide and a deep, guttural scream left your throat as you met the endless stare of a dead woman. In refuge, you looked to your right. Another dead one greeted you just as forcibly. You flinched, averted your eyes, but in the darkness behind your eyelids the horror remained; splashes of red staining her hair, the ghostly whites of her eyes, mouth frozen in a permanent scream, the ugly circle in the middle of her forehead.

The kidnapper’s rampant states evolved to a frenzy as they darted their desperation towards you, like a missile locking onto a target. Shots continued past your range of sight, but you heard them; muffled and close.

One of the kidnapper's charged towards you, gun in hand.

Your mind in fragments, you tried your best to stand before they could reach you, but the kneeling rendering your knees useless. You fell forward, sharp pains stabbing your kneecaps as you fumbled up again. A woman delivered a shift kick to your stomach. You groaned and toppled back, your trapped wrists splashing against the puddle of wet blood.

“You did this, didn’t you?! ” the woman bellowed. “Who’d you send for?! Huh?!” She grabbed a fistful of your hair, locking her venomous glare against your quivering lips as you chased an answer on your tongue.

She yanked harder. “Answer me, you fucking rat!”

You opened your mouth and willed yourself to speak, but the words abandoned you. Tears pooled in your eyes.

Fed up with your sloppiness, the woman growled and released her grip. You stumbled back, falling on your side as you caught yourself from landing on your wrists, hair dipping into the red liquid. She cocked her gun. You squeezed your eyes shut. Sweat beaded atop your forehead, its saltiness mixing with the metallic stench of your hair as the tarnished concoction trickled down your face like runny hair dye. You felt the bloodied strands of hair gently brushed aside, making way for the cold barrel as it pushed into your forehead. You thought you heard the trigger click in anticipation. Your heartbeat convulsed inside your chest.

Then — a hatch opened. Two gun blasts. Bam! Bam!

The gun clattered against the floor, followed by a thud!

You popped open your eyes. The woman’s lifeless body lie face down beside your shoes, her brown rats nest a bloodied mess as crimson fluids leaked from her head across the floor. Your breathing blew out in bursts, in and out. Violent gulps of air choked your throat and stung your chest as you struggled frantically to break free from the restraints while hastily hauling yourself to a corner. Your stomach churned as you worked your wrists, the grip seeming to shrink tighter, down to the bone with every pull. The alarm sang like a sick cheer for your escape as you thrashed your wrists against the floor, screaming, wailing, fighting for absolution.

You curled into a fetal position, the pain from the kick resigning in your stomach as you felt your will crumble into hopelessness, like the last survivor on a sinking ship.

There was no direction for your gaze as you shut your eyes.

“Hey – hey -- stay with me now.”

Beneath your trembling, that anxious voice reached you, as if it were coaxing you along a bridge across treacherous waters.

Your mouth fell open, bottom lip shaking as any formation of a sentence betrayed you. You mustered a weak gasp as a man approached. His face was rugged, but determined as he peered down upon you, upon your sanguine soaked forehead. He sported a cowboy hat that seemed to provide a shadow against his face. His brows were thick and furrowed together as his hands attempted to reach the sides of your face. You suspended your gaze and tucked your body away from the room. Away from him.

“Ain’t gonna hurtcha!” he remarked, his voice silent amid the screaming buzzer. “Just wanna make sure y’ain’t bleedin’ a ton!”

Your throat was drier than a vase of forgotten flowers; tongue just as tied as the wrists behind your back — a spot the man captured quickly as he assessed your predicament. You heard the flick of a pocketknife and quickly looked up. A woman stepped into the room. She lowered her gun, but kept her finger above the trigger. A golden glint on her chest caught your eye. Your stomach dropped. Police?

Suddenly, you feared for your life again.

“Sam, don’t untie her just yet! We have no idea which side she’s on!”

“Pretty clear to me which side!”

“It could be a trap!” The woman stepped closer, her gaze fidgeting around the room as they hollered against the ringing. “This could be their ploy!”

“She’s banged up pretty bad, Lillian, and she can’t use her hands. Clearly, she couldn’t grab a weapon even if she tried!”

“I just don’t know about this, Sam!”

“You took a chance on a reckless kid once, and despite how you found him, things turned out pretty damn fine!”

The woman located the gun closest to you and immediately kicked it across the room. The man continued to hold his unsheathed pocket knife. The blade gave a serrated smile.

“Just trust me, alright?!”

She took a sharp breath, a sigh, then removed her finger from the trigger as she lowered the gun all the way. “Alright! Fine! We’ll take her back with us, get her all patched up, then ask her some questions! See what she knows!”

“Yes ma’am!” You caught a glimpse of a tiny smile swathed in success as the man leaned across your body and began to cut into the twine. Your hands trembled.

“Hold still!” he yelled, sawing through the restraints.

Your heart raced. What if the blade sliced through your skin by accident? You remained completely still, patient, until finally, the ropes snapped off.

You instinctively rubbed the twisted indentations embedded in your skin. Despite your hands being freed, you still couldn’t bring yourself to move, or speak. You gazed at your savior, the knife still in his grasp. He considered you with a tilt of his head, his eyes straight-lined with patience as he retracted the knife and slid it back into his pocket. The woman doubled-down on her stance, waiting for your next move. You exhaled, quick and shaky. The man offered his hand, but you didn’t take it, then he slowly crouched beside you, and urged you to stand up, his voice barely comprehensible over the squawking alarm.

You lifted yourself up, unintentionally pressing your hands into the blood of the dead. You withdrew your palms and swung your head around. Splatters of brain matter splashed against the wall and space-viewed windows. Your legs rocked from under you. Vehemently, your head shook in disbelief. You covered your hand atop your mouth and blinked away tears. Before you could look any further out of sheer morbidity, a pair of hands firmly gripped your shoulders and pulled your sight away. The man’s brows etched with concern. His stare linked to yours.

“Don’t look.”

In utter shock, both words swam through your eardrums in smooth, purposeful strokes. and you obeyed, keeping your eyes on him. Your muscles were weak, but appreciative, as you tried again to stand up. The man threw your arm carefully around his shoulder and the woman followed, a grunt passing from her lips as you adjusted to their rescue.

“Don’t make me regret this, okay?” She muttered close to your ear as you exited the cockpit hatch.

Blood rushed from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes. Each blare of the alarm mimicked the pounding in your head, like thousands of birds squawking as they pecked your ears raw.

You whined as you passed under one of the sirens.

The man yelled something, but his voice remained unintelligible, however, you thought maybe he was reassuring you. You lifted your head and peered to your right – the woman focused forward, aware of the next steps as you moved further down the ship. The man adjusted his hold on you, and you caught the faintest scent of cologne mixed with salt and blood. The pounding in your head grew louder, angrier, as they pulled you past their victims. The air smelt of tarnished pennies. The soles of your shoes dragged along the floor through puddles of red, leaving a evidence of a retreat behind as you exited the ship and entered another one.

You were ushered through a series of rooms, each one more scientific than the last, until your body was gently laid onto a cot. Exhaustion consumed you. You battled with your brain to keep your eyelids open as they slowly began to close; not for the sake of sleep, but for asylum against the ringing in your ears. You curled into a ball — the dead woman from the ship accompanying the darkness that began to swallow you.

“Get her a trauma pack.”

“Sam, we only got one left. Once we get to The Rock, Doc will look her over just fine.”

“Then, I’ll buy another one. Lillian, don’t fight me on this.”

There was a long pause, followed by the decrescendo of footsteps, then you heard the faint sound of an object being placed beside you. After a few minutes you heard voices, but the words were too distant to hear or understand, however the tones were defiant, combative. One of them raised their voice, but you couldn’t tell who. Then, they stopped.

Finally, as your body lulled against the rolling ship through space, your heartbeat steadied. Boots softly thudded into your room as you lay on your side, your face against the cool of the ship’s wall.

“I, um – I don’t know if you can hear me, but there's medicine next to ya, if you need it. I’ll be out on the nav-floor if you need anythin’.” He cleared his throat. “Alright then.”

You were grateful, even if tonight stole the words right out of your blood soaked mouth, you saved. Saved from death, from a fate worse than death, from something you’d never experience again, because you had an idea how you ended up here in the place.

Despite this, you tapped the inner recesses of your mind searching for something, anything, hinting whether or not this was a stroke of luck or if someone knew you would be on the spaceship and called for help.

Was this all part of Anton’s plan?

A sudden warmth encompassed you. You set those worries aside and reached your hands forward feeling a softness draped over you. The fabric blanketed your body as you allowed yourself this moment of vulnerability. Anton didn’t exist right now.

You’d use the trauma pack later. You were in need of a shower, too. You scrunched your face, the blossoms of your cheeks popping as you listened to the sickening way the dried blood cracked. Shudders flowed through your warming body. You pushed your appearance aside, craving the nurturing arms of slumber; at least for a little while.

You pulled the blanket closer until it covered the tip of your chin. You licked the dryness off your lips, careful not to lick off any blood that had slid its way down. You parted them, releasing a low breath, a safe breath, as the blanket melted into your body.

You weren’t sure if the man was still there, or if your voice would even reach him, but you knew the second those words left your parched throat, you’d never forget this day, or this man’s unabridged kindness.

In the dark of the spaceship, as the hum of the grave drive soothed your weary muscles and the pillow held your blood soaked head, you sleepily whispered, “Thank you.”

#I hope you enjoy it if you take a gander <3 #i'm having a lot of fun with this with this fic #starfield fanfiction #can you believe this started out as a silly little au #coemancer #sam coe x reader #reader x sam Coe

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fangbangerghoul · 3 months

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Header originally made by @thatsgoodsquishy0

Hello everyone! I am pleased to share a great event we had in our Comrade Coe's Spouses discord server for Valetine's Day!

This server is full of wonderful creatives who all share one thing in common, our love for Starfield. Okay...maybe two and our love for the bisexual single dad space cowboy! We love to support each other in our creative endeavors and to showcase this this post is going to have all the pieces from our Valetine's Day Art Trade!

Each person who signed up was randomly paired with another. We had a channel to fill out a small form of what they preferred, what they were willing to create, and their do's and don'ts in receiving other creations! We allowed about 8 weeks for people to discuss, plan, and create their own masterpieces!

Our server is always open for incoming members and there are only a few things that you need to know before requesting to join.

You must be over 21

You must love or at least appreciate Starfield

And you are joining for a good time, some creative vibes, and with an open mind!

Just tap or click on the link embedded in the server's name above for more information on how to join!

banner made by @bearlytolerant

Everything you will see below is crafted by a member of our server! There will be links to their Tumblr and ao3 links to check more of their work out!

Please feel free to show their blogs some love and their fics on ao3 as well! You can also check out their other works under the tag The Coemancer Crew. One of the core values of our community is supporting each other's creative pieces and we hope you all would love to participate in doing the same!

@atonalginger's

Anton x Sam Astral Haze

@thatsgoodsquishy0's

From Death; A Life

You almost died. Sam's grateful you're alive.

“Wait until Constellation hears about this,” you say, accompanied by a shaky laugh. “I wonder if they’ll even believe us.” He shakes his head. “They should, they don’t have to. We were there. We survived. You survived. That’s all that matters in my book.” His realism brings your gaze to the table, though a swirl of gratitude rises in the back of your mouth, coming out in a weak smile. This was nice. Peaceful, but not enough. There was still untouched territory to discuss. You lift your head, eyes soft and sincere. Unsure. “I wouldn’t be here without your help, Sam.” A pink flush spreads across his cheeks as he smiles. Averting his gaze, his pupils dart across the wall, and you notice they focus on nothing in particular. He shuts his eyes, and you suspected he was replaying the evening. You cock your head, curious. If you could pry open the contents of Sam Coe’s brain, you would, and you would soak up everything about that man, a fact you hadn’t truly believed until tonight.

@fangbangerghoul's

Crimson Slut

@bearlytolerant's

Paint It Crimson

Delgado is tired of Ghoul not resting so he takes matters into his own hands. His attempt means trying to teach her a new hobby.

She chuckles and he chooses not to engage any longer. He’s been toyed with enough. Even if that’s what they do. Argue and bicker. Pull their claws and bare their fangs until eventually he walks away with enough of his pride beaten down, dragging his ego behind him a little broken and worse for wear. It happens often enough that he can’t say he always comes out the winner. But he is weary of the game today. He wants to be nice. Try to be nice. He is determined to be nice. Another step and he reaches around her head and tugs at the blindfold. The knot unravels. Unfurls. He removes it in one smooth motion, tossing it to the floor. Then he thumbs her chin, tilting her head up to get a good glimpse of her. He gazes into her citrine eyes. The warm glow from his hanging lamp, hovering over the tall snake tongued leaves of the sansevieria in the corner of the room, reflects off her irises and they glimmer and shine just like a gemstone. Thoughts waxing poetic, he blinks them away before he speaks them aloud. “I wanted to surprise you.” He releases her chin.

@silurisanguine's

So coy

@eridanidreams's

Twisted Towards the Light

Seren and Sam run into a little bit more excitement than they expected when taking down Tawny Adams...

Sam leaned against the wall. "We having fun yet?" He was breathing a little harder than usual; she gave him a quick once-over, but his suit seemed intact. He caught her look and gave her the grin she'd come to love. "I know you like what you see," he purred, "but maybe look a little less like you want to rip my suit right off until we're done? Mercs might get the wrong idea." Seren couldn't help but laugh. "Arse," she growled. "And a fine one," he agreed. "Though yours," he eyed her up and down, "might be even finer. Pity that your suit hides it, or we could do a real close comparison. Hands-on, even." "Focus, Sam," she reminded him, hitting the 'cycle' button. "Bad guys that way." "I am focused," he said, sounding innocent as the day was long. (In the case of this misbegotten little moon, that was only 4.5 UT hours, so… not all that innocent.) "I'm just a busy man. I have to work in all that quality time of thinking about me and you."

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eridanidreams · 3 months

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WIP Wednesday

Tagging: @bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon, @violenceandviolets, @therealgchu, @staticpallour and @artemis-crimson

I'm late to the party tonight, so enjoy!

from stars through my fingers like grains of sand

Lillian agreed, then took a deep breath. "But Sam, I need something. I need to see my daughter more. These messages, they're just a tease."

"And she misses you," Sam countered, before Cait could draw breath to speak herself. "But, Lillian, the last three times we planned something, you bailed twice. Twice." His jaw set, his eyes burned the hot blue of stars, and his anger fueled the embers of her own. Before it could go out of control again (she'd wanted to—what? the memory had gone up in smoke), she leashed it, channeled it into words.

"Cora knows you're not really invested in her, Lillian," Cait said, choosing every word with exquisite care. "She certainly knows that you put being a Ranger over spending time with her. And pretty soon now, she's going to figure out that you aren't actually interested in your reading club. Right now, she just thinks you're a slow reader."

Lillian flushed. "How dare you say that?"

Cait felt a slow, angry smile cross her face. "Life is a storm, my young friend. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. You must look into that storm and shout as you did in Rome: Do your worst, for I will do mine! Then the fates will know you as we know you." Lillian still looked confused. "That's only one of the most famous quotes from the book you're supposed to be reading right now."

"Do you have any idea the looks I get when I'm reading Dumas around the other Rangers?" Lillian demanded.

"If you really cared about Cora," Cait said softly, "it wouldn't matter."

"For crying out loud, Lillian," Sam added, "where do you think the whole 'Rangers always have each other's back' thing comes from?" Lillian looked at him in complete astonishment. "I'm not the reader Cora or Cait is—" His anger was dissipating, replaced with a sort of grim amusement that damped Cait's anger like a fire extinguisher "—but I'm not immune to a rousing adventure. Like, oh, The Three Musketeers." He let that hang in the air.

"All for one, and one for all," Cait murmured.

"And books aside, what this all boils down to," Sam said, "is that every time you bail out on Cora, it destroys her. And I'm the one left to pick up the pieces." Now that her own anger was more-or-less quenched, Cait could clearly sense the memory of Sam's devastation as it shivered coldly through him.

"Be honest with yourself, Lillian," Cait commanded. "Do you really think you can put Cora first? Every time? Because if you can't, then you need to stop pretending that you can."

Lillian winced, shaken to the core by Cait's brutal honesty, as Sam added, "Whatever you've got going on with Cora right now, I won't stand in the way of that. But we're not going to make plans again if you can't be sure you're going to make them. Even if there's an emergency."

Lillian sighed. "It's so often a matter of life and death, you know that—" There are other Rangers, Cait thought, but did not say. Lillian needed to make this decision herself. "—but you're right. Maybe—maybe when she's older." When she's older, Cait knew, would never happen; Lillian had just driven a stake through the heart of any hope of a closer relationship with Cora. Unless she changed drastically, and soon, this was the most she would ever have. Cait couldn't find it in herself to be sorry—at least, not for Lillian. Silently, she vowed to do everything she could to make the inevitable easier on Cora.

Sam nodded solemnly; Cait wondered if he'd heard the same thing she had. "Okay. Friends, right?"

Lillian set herself, and underneath all the turmoil, the anger, the resentment, Cait thought she heard a faint note of relief. "Friends." She gave a soft, rueful laugh. "You and me—we were over before we ever began." Cait hadn't expected the turn of conversation, and now she did feel like she was intruding. She took a half-step back, intending to make a discreet exit, but the ice cracking beneath her foot betrayed her. Lillian offered her a soft half-smile, but her emotions had sharpened into something almost—speculative. "No need," she said. "Sam and I—we didn't really choose each other, we just sort of—fell into it. I admire him, and he's one of the few people in the Systems that can make me laugh… but he's right. What we had, was never love. Not then, and not now."

"Truth," Sam agreed.

"All right," Cait said, feeling like the ground itself was shaking underneath her. She was teetering on the edge of emotional overload, and she knew it. "Do you think you two can go on from here? Is there anything else you need to address?"

Sam shook his head in silence. "No," Lillian met her gaze without flinching; after a moment, a half-smile curved her lips. "Sam's found himself one hell of an advocate."

Cait shook her head. "Sam didn't need me to support him—he did just fine." Sam's surprised appreciation curled up through her, adding itself to the storm already raging inside of her. "He needed it for Cora." She breathed deeply of the cold air, trying to use the shock to steady her for just a few moments more. "I'll go take a walk while the two of you finish up whatever you need to. Lillian, I presume we're dropping you back at Neon?"

"No need," Lillian said. "I've arranged for pickup. But I will make sure to say goodbye to Cora before you lift off." She gave Cait a long, considering look. "And thank you. You've given both of us a real gift. Not a comfortable gift, but…" she let out a sigh. "Honesty is the best way to go... however painful. As if I didn't owe you already."

"I'm not one to keep score," Cait said. "But I'm glad I could help. If you'll excuse me…" She nodded to them both, then walked away quickly before either of them could draw her back in.

#starfield #sam coe #fanfic #starfield fanfiction #eridani writes #caitlyn lynch #coemancer #wip wednesday #stars through my fingers like grains of sand

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therealgchu · 3 months

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WIP Wednesday - Valentines Style

i'm not a fan of valentines. i'm not a fan of holidays, in general. but, i thought something fluffy and waffy might be nice for WIP wednesday. the coemancer crew did an art dump for valentines (sorry for not being involved, but i have almost no free time. this has been a hell month for me at work), but i'll tag them anyway @silurisanguine, @fangbangerghoul, @eridanidreams, @staticpallour, @bearlytolerant, @a-cosmic-elf, @aro-pancake, @atonalginger, @samcoesclub, and anyone else i'm forgetting.

i'm planning on publishing the next chapter on friday. it's written, but needs editing.

so, a fluffy little piece. i'm not sure if this will be part of the next chapter, or as a stand-alone vignette.

if you want to read from the beginning on ao3.

Valentines fluffy sneak peek

Hwa felt like she was on a cloud, and was grinning from ear to ear like a maniac. As she and Sam walked back to the Razorleaf, she kept looking up at him and found him looking down at her, with the same grin. “I have never really walked much around Akila. Can you play tour guide for me?” she asked.

Sam smiled, “We’ve got time. Sure.” He grabbed her hand and started leading her around, pointing out his favorite places, where he got in trouble for spray painting a wall, where he had his first kiss. She honestly was only paying half attention to him. What was really occupying her mind was him holding her hand. While they’d held each other’s hands many times before, it was always when they were alone together. She had never in her entire life held someone’s hand in public. Public displays of affection were utterly alien to her, and even something as innocent as holding hands was making her feel a bit dizzy. She felt like she was vibrating and wondered if Sam could feel it through her hand.

Hwa realized he must have, as he paused when they rounded a corner in Midtown. He peered down at her, “Are you OK?” he asked. They had stopped right next to a stairwell that was shaded from the sun. Sam pulled her into the shadows away from the pedestrian traffic.

She tried to speak, but ended up emitting a high pitched squeak instead.

“What was that?” he asked, wide eyed and laughing. “I didn’t think I caught that!”

Hwa laughed, covering her mouth and turning bright red. She tried again, “Umm…this will sound weird, but…I have never held hands with anyone in public before,” she said in an unusually high, whispery voice.

“Seriously?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes. I mean, I’ve never really been in a romantic relationship before,” she stuttered out. “Not a lot of romance going on in organized crime, frankly. At least, not for me.” She tried to affect an airy, casual voice. It came out sounding slightly hysterical instead.

“Heh, I feel like I”ve been lied to by movies and vids,” he mused. “You’ve really never been romantically involved with…anyone?”

“I told you, all relationships were transactional. I mean, sex is just sex. It has nothing to do with emotions.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s necessarily true, but I can see what you mean,” he interrupted. “So, when we’ve had sex…”

Hwa shook her head, “That was different already!” she said a bit frantically. “I was already in love with you, but I didn’t know how you felt. I mean, the attraction was there, but…”

Sam nodded, “sex is sex.”

“Yes.”

“Ok, so what is it about holding hands that has you…well, you’re kinda physically buzzing. I can feel it in your hands.”

“This feels,” and she held up his hand in hers, “this feels really, really intimate.”

“But, sex doesn’t?”

“Sex is a physical need. Biological imperative, and all. It has nothing to do with intimacy.”

Sam shook his head baffled, “I don’t know if I agree with that, but I can see what you’re saying. How is holding hands more intimate than sex?”

Hwa sighed, seeing she wasn’t making much sense to him. Frankly, it didn’t make a lot of sense to her, either. But, he asked, and she could only respond honestly. “Because holding hands isn’t necessary. It’s a choice. And, it’s a…a public choice. It’s like saying, ‘this is mine’. I’ve never had anyone…I’ve never had anyone,” here she looked at the ground, “I’ve never had anyone who wanted me.”

“Ahh,” Sam said after a moment, “sex is sex.” Hwa nodded, seeing he understood what she was saying. “Oh, Hwa, I love you. I’m madly in love with you. Do you want me to shout it to the stars? Because I will.”

She looked back up into his eyes, “No, that’s not necessary.”

He tilted up her chin and kissed her softly, which made her shake a bit. Sam looked at her critically again, “Let me guess, first kiss in public?” She nodded and blushed again. “Oh wow. Then, like…” here Sam grinned lasciviously at her, “I’m your…first?”.

“Oh my god, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Hwa blushed an even darker red.

“No, no! It’s cute! And, you’re even more beautiful when you blush,” he said, and with his body pushed her against the wall, deeper into the shadows.

Hwa started shaking her hands again, which Sam grabbed with one hand. With his other, he leaned up against the wall, pressing her body against it, and kissed her more passionately. He broke the kiss, and stared into her eyes, “I want you,” he said throatily.

She involuntarily squeaked again, which made Sam laugh, breaking the mood. “OK, might be a little too much?” he asked, backing off a bit. She nodded, noticeably trembling and shaking her hands. He kissed the top of her head. “What do you think of public displays of affection?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said in another squeaky voice, her eyes wide and confused.

Sam laughed and took her hand and kissed it. “You are the damndest woman,” he said, shaking his head. “Just when I think I have you figured out, you go and blow all of my ideas out of the water.” He led her back out onto the walkway, smirking, “But, I like the idea that I’m your first.”

#starfield #sam coe #fanfic #space husband #fanfiction #space cowboy #coemancer #to the shore #hwa kim #spacefarer #coemancers #the coemancer crew #valentines #wip wednesday

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order-of-the-eye · 11 days

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List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers (ू•‧̫•ू⑅)♡

the details of every tree

finding cicada shells

how one of my cats likes to bump her head against me to get my attention

when my favorite youtube channels upload

the smell of recently cut grass

thank you <3

#fangbangerghoul #asks #answered

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a-cosmic-elf · 4 months

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#11 from the WIP GAME!

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

Thank you for asking @fangbangerghoul and for allowing me to explain myself because I feel like a terrible writer for not updating in what feels like an age.

Yes. Unfortunately, I’ve hit a roadblock on both.

There’s a spoiler-free vent under the cut.

The next scene in my Mass Effect fic is an action scene, which I struggle with. I know what I have to do; it’s just doing it. I love this fic too damn much, and I often think it deserves a better writer than I could ever be. I’m scared that I don’t have what it takes to write it well, and it’ll end up a half-baked pile of crap. That’s why I procrastinate writing this fic, it’s fear of failure. I’m not sure how to get past that.

I will get past it, I know. I opened the doc just the other day and re-read the next chapter and it’s not actually as bad as I feared. It just needs that action scene and it’s done.

I also have the next chapter more-or-less ready for my ongoing Legacy of Kain fic. The final chapter is perhaps the most whumpy, heartbreaking, torturous end to any fic I’ve ever written.

I’m worried that readers are going to scream at me for what I’ve done - even though it happens exactly as it does in canon, it’s just I’ve made it a whole lot worse by writing it as an enemies-to-lovers p(with)p and then cue that horrific scene. 🫣

…which I want to write, don’t get me wrong. I need to write it. It will be very interesting to see everything from a different perspective. I’m covering the aftermath, all the bits you don't see behind the scenes, all the way up to the final climatic scene in the game. It’s glorious how it all slots together, even if I say so myself. I’m as proud of it, just as much as I am scared to finish and post.

There’s also a half-dozen or so plans for Starfield fics spilling out of my head and into notebooks all over the place. There’s so many I can’t keep up, and I doubt I’ll ever get around to writing then all. I did think about putting one or two plot bunnies up for adoption; it’s that bad, they’re multiplying, like, well, bunnies. 🐰😅

But I promised myself that I would finish the other two before writing any more Starfield fic, but ugh… hyperfixation is in full swing. I don't normally like to force my creativity in any particular direction, I like to let it flow where it wants to go.

I’d just really like it to go in the Abby’s direction, please, please, for the love of all things good, I need to finish that fic 😭🙏🏼

wip ask game for procrastinating writers

#ask game #wip ask game #asks answered #cosmic writes #fanfiction #fangbangerghoul #thank you for sending me this #are you accepting asks for this game too?#much love #💜✨

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lisa-and-shadow · 1 month

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Ok this DnD character quiz was enlightening and I feel seen and attacked quite honestly.

The quiz is here.

I'm the smartest, least charismatic bard ever. 😭🤣 It feels right honestly.

Tagging @staticpallour @atonalginger @eridanidreams @silurisanguine @a-cosmic-elf @warlock-enthusiast @therealgchu @fangbangerghoul and anyone else who wants to play 💜💜💜

#dnd #it's a long quiz but fun

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bearlytolerant · 15 days

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15 Lines of Dialogue Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

Tagged by @thevikingwoman thank you!

These are from a wip and it’s Gwyn from dragons dogma 2. Putting below the cut for length.

1. “A senseless request when you are all that consumes my thoughts now.”

2. Ah, another pretty boy in distress. Shall I throw you over my shoulder then?”

3. “You can leave, if you wish. Know I would miss you dearly, if you choose that path, but my joy is brightest when you are defying what destiny has ordained for you.” She reaches up to tuck a stray hair behind his ear. “And you shine brightest when your actions are of your own volition.”

4. “Raise your hand against her again and I’ll wear your fingers as charms on a chain around my neck.”

5. “Now if I told you that, it would no longer be a well kept secret now, would it?”

6. “Do you three gossip about me as well while I am away?”

7. “Have you lost your senses?” She reels on him in the dark recesses of the dim lit halls, a draft sending a chill down her spine and raising the hairs on her neck. “Times such as these require playing the part of the feckless dullard. Either play the part with me or wait here.”

8. “No, it does not bother me that he takes Disa to his bed. In another world perhaps—“ She laughs. “I have always enjoyed a bit of sugar with my cream.”

9. “If this is my destiny,” she spits, fists balled in seething anger. “If this is only what I was made for in this world, then perhaps I should unmake this world.”

10. She hovers in the doorway, eyes fixated on the bandit leader. “You can milk him all day but I believe this billy goat is better repurposed for slaughter.”

11. “Fear grips my heart nearly every waking hour, but when we are yoked together, I know only courage.”

12. “Senseless from the moment I met you.” She tsks. “You are a fool to think my heart does not ache for you. Not just your touch but those words whispered and carried off by the winds during our midnight trysts.” She takes another brave step toward him. “I miss you and long for you. I did the night we met and even more so now.”

13. “Have you seen the view from here? How unfortunate to have been made arisen. I should have liked to have been made with wings.”

14. “I hear the brine calling and it sounds like it’s begging for supper,” she says and delivers an arrow to its eye.

15. “His objective is dubious at best but I admire him. Though I believe his thorough research methods could be used for better means, his spirit is unwavering in resolve.” She offers a wry grin. “And I’m not just saying that because he carries the same resolve in the bedroom.”

Tagging @ellstersmash @fangbangerghoul @lisa-and-shadow @myreia @staticpallour @a-cosmic-elf @roguelioness and anyone else who sees this and would like to do this for their oc (and no obligations of course)!

#15 lines of dialogue #bear writes #oc: Gwyn #dd2 #she is my life and my muse right now #thanks for the tag viking!#this one was really fun!

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atonalginger · 2 months

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WIP Wednesday and a big update to Reclaiming Home

yes I'm doing another massive update because it's all been sitting banked and I'll feel better once it's out. Also, because it's Wednesday and this is my main WIP atm so boom, two birds and all that jazz.

tagging the coemancer crew, @silurisanguine, @fangbangerghoul, @staticpallour, @eridanidreams, @bearlytolerant, @aro-pancake, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @order-of-the-eye, @toxiclizardwrites and anyone I might have forgotten <3 here's a snippet of the WIP that was posted to ao3 below. To start from the beginning of the update (chapter 5-11 is the big update) click here.

Cora stared back at the monitor, at her unfinished letter, “when I was younger I tried really hard to get him and my mom back together. I didn’t want things to change. I liked having my dad more but I was still scared of the changes. She just stopped coming around and I tried really hard to rebuild my family.”

“Changes are scary,” Frost agreed.

“I know my dad and Doc are trying to take it slow, to start over. I don’t want him to think I’m trying that again with Doc. I don’t want them to think I’m trying to rush them.” Cora felt her voice going shaky and she didn’t like it. Big girl, no tears.

“You could tell them that,” Frost reasoned, “it doesn’t matter the original purpose of the album, it’s just pictures now.”

“I like Doc a lot,” her voice broke and she stopped, trying to stop the emotions from coming.

“That’s natural, she’s a delightful soul,” Frost said.

Cora laughed, a tear breaking through, “Right?”

“Why does that make you sad?” Frost asked.

“I don’t want to drive her away too,” Cora whimpered and pulled her knees up to her chest, sitting in a tight ball on the big chair.

“I don’t see that happening, little bookworm,” Frost assured her.

Cora hugged her shins and steadied her breathing. Hearing that from Frost was comforting and she was trying to hold onto his words, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything,” Frost said. He leaned against the wall, his arms relaxed at his sides.

“Do you remember my mom?” she asked, “Have you ever met her?”

“I have,” Frost nodded, “I do.”

“Do you think she loves me?” Cora asked, her eyes glued to the monitor.

“I think she loves having a daughter,” Frost said.

It wasn’t what she asked and yet answered so much. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, letting her legs relax to sit crossed-legged in the chair, “Does she like our secret book club?”

“She is proud of your little secret,” he said.

Another half answer that said so much with so little, “Do you think she’d notice if I stopped picking books? If I stopped?”

“Yes,” Frost nodded.

“Thank you,” Cora said as she went to finish her letter, “I should get this done while we’re closer to the FC satellite so it’ll get to her faster.”

“May I ask you a question?” Frost asked.

“Yeah,” Cora looked over.

“Do you enjoy your secret book club?” he asked.

Cora sat quiet, pondering his question. They’d started the book club as a way of sharing one of Cora’s interests and giving them more to talk about. Mom wanted it to be a secret because mom mentioned her dad not liking it, which Cora thought silly but then again they fought so much whenever they talked that it was possible. She didn’t like keeping that secret from her dad, she felt bad every time she lied about it, but it was what mom wanted.

Then there was the fact that mom took so long to read the books Cora picked. She knew her mom was busy with work but she was pretty sure it was actually taking so long because her mom didn’t like the books. She frowned, “I wish it didn’t have to be a secret.”

Frost nodded, “secrets can weigh heavy on the soul.”

#starfield #sam coe #starfield fanfiction #fanfic #coemancer #the coemancer crew #atonalginger writes #wip wednesday #Cora Coe #Doc Melody #DocCoe #Reclaiming Home #Frost

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eridanidreams · 3 months

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WIP Wednesday

I'm late today, and missed Sunday; sorry, all, it's been a long week for me.

She jerked her head up, barely missing his chin, and stared at him; a single tear escaped to draw a bright trail down her cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb, then cupped her face in his palm. "I've talked to you about things that no one—I mean no one else knows about. You know everything that's important to know about me, good and bad, and if there's something I forgot, I'll tell you. Because I trust you. And because I want you to know." He wrapped his arms around her a little more securely; not so tightly that she couldn't escape if she wanted to, but enough to emphasize how much he loved her, loved having her close. Pressed his head against hers, breathing in the faint scent of roses from her hair; he just wanted to take a quiet moment to appreciate something that mere hours ago had been a distant dream.

Slowly, he felt her relax in his arms—not all the way, but enough that he thought they'd gotten past that particular worry. "I never thought of it that way," she murmured. "I just—you didn't have any choice in it. Wouldn't have blamed you for getting mad about it."

Sam took a deep breath, deciding to just face that problem head-on. "My temper scare you?"

"No." Cait sounded pretty definite about that. "I mean, I know you have one, but you seem to have good coping mechanisms for it. And the few times I've picked up on it getting loose—well, I figure Lillian would drive even the most controlled person to fits, so…" She shrugged, and he chuckled at her apt description.

"I was angry at the world in my younger days," he admitted, "but when Cora was born, I knew I had to get a handle on it. Ended up talking to someone about it for a couple years; got rid of some of it and better tools to deal with the rest." Now it was her turn to reach up and lay a comforting hand against his cheek, and he made a soft hum of enjoyment. "Mmm. Did me a lot of good." He turned his head to look her in the eye. "Regarding this—connection, I don't see any reason why I should be upset with you. Not like you did it on purpose, right?" She shook her head. "And it's not hurting either of us—" a sharp spike of worry jolted through him "—it's not hurting you, is it?"

He felt her tense right back up. "I don't… think so…" she faltered. "It's always seemed… right. Like—like that's how I'm supposed to be." She let out a bitter-half laugh. "Should I be scared that it doesn't scare me? And it's—it's all tangled up with the way I feel about you. Loving you." She ducked her head, half-burying her face in his shoulder, a note of shame entering her voice. "I've—I've never felt like this. About anyone." Her voice dropped to a bare whisper. "Love, desire, any of it—I never even dreamed it was possible. Not for me." He could hear the tears fogging up her voice. "Never thought I could be this—happy."

Sam just held her, rubbing his hand comfortingly up and down her arm and back, and letting his feelings do the communicating while he considered what she'd said. Since their first visit to Neon, he'd been keeping an ear out for things that might indicate one of her mental landmines. The most glaring sign was when she hadn't thought about something, which meant her comment about love and desire was waving all the red flags. It didn't surprise him—he already knew home and family were on the list—so he chose his words carefully. "Then I guess it's a good thing we both want the whole package, isn't it?" He smoothed her hair out of her face, relishing both the silken feel of it on his fingers and the soft sound of happiness she let out at his touch. "Gives us time to court each other right and proper." And time to work through the things someone didn't want you to know.

"Are you sure?" Cait whispered. "You couldn’t have expected me to be so… high-maintenance.” But Sam was also paying attention to how she was almost buried against him, like she was trying to soak in as much of him as she could. He wrapped his arm a little more tightly around her, reassuringly.

"Not gonna lie," he admitted, "if you were to say, 'Make love to me right now, you sexy beast,' I'd happily oblige you." She made a choked little noise that he thought was a laugh. "But Cat—I love you as you are. If all this is new to you, you should have the opportunity to enjoy it, figure out what appeals to you. I don't mind if we take some extra time to make you comfortable; it'll be time well-spent." He smiled down at her. "And even if this is all you ever want, then it's still more than I ever expected to find."

"I, um, don't think that'll be a problem…" she said, more than a little hesitantly.

"Dare I ask?" The question of whether he desired her, of course, had been answered for quite some time; his libido perked right up at even the hint that she returned his interest, but he shoved it right back down. Time enough for that later. "You've piqued my curiosity," he added.

Cait tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "I've had some… interesting… dreams lately." She grimaced a little—he was prepared to deal with her embarrassment, but she didn't seem embarrassed so much as uncertain. "It—took me a while to figure out why."

Sam waited a few moments. "You gonna finish that thought, darlin', or just leave me danglin'?" he teased her gently.

"Because I love you," she said softly. "And because… you see a person when you look at me." She closed her mouth tightly, as if afraid she'd said too much, the specter of what she hadn't said hanging in the air between them.

"Yeah," he said, keeping his eyes level on hers. "I do. A person who managed the epic feat of getting me to fall in love with her. A person who deserves every bit of happiness I can give her. A woman who loves me right back." He felt himself smile again at the thought of it. "Truth be told, I've had a few interesting dreams about you, too." That brought a blush to her cheeks, and she ducked her head back into his shoulder. "Hell," he let out a sigh. "Too much too soon?"

She shook her head quickly and muttered something that sounded like youdidnthavetotellmethat.

"Cait," he said softly. "Just say it."

"I already knew," she blurted out. "You've been having them since Denebola." When—oh, hell. When he'd realized that he loved her. When he'd pulled away from her, terrified of how far and how fast he'd fallen. When she'd retreated to the Eye, claiming nightmares.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, his voice gone rough and tight with contrition. "I should've told you. I was…" he let out a sigh. "I was just afraid, because happened so fast. It was like I turned around and you were… so much more than I ever dreamed possible." He smoothed his thumb across her cheek again. "Why the blush?"

"Felt like I was eavesdropping," she muttered. "I mean, the inside of your head's supposed to be private. Surface emotions are one thing, but dreams… they're harder to keep out when I'm also asleep."

"Mmm. I can see that," he replied. Funny, though, how it didn't bother him one bit. "I meant what I said, love. Not going to blame you for what you can't help." And he couldn't help but tease her a little bit, try and lighten the mood. "And since you've already shared mine, we could always discuss your dreams." He grinned. "A little more of that turnabout and fair play business."

"You jerk," Cait started laughing, and he watched the faint hues in her eyes shift back to a good-humored blue-green. "You would, too, wouldn't you?"

"'Course I would," Sam said easily. "I have standards, you know. If dream-me isn't doing the job properly, well," he gave her a smirk. "Someone's got to rise to that challenge."

Her laughs turned into fierce little giggles—the double entendre clearly wasn't lost on her—and it purely warmed his heart to see her unreservedly happy for once. Her giggles faded into a bright smile and an intent gaze; her hand stole up to touch his face again, tracing the line of his cheek and caressing down the line of his jaw. He let out a little sigh of pleasure at the touch. "So soft," she said, in a voice of wonder. Her fingers trailed down toward his lips, and then paused—he could feel them tremble. "Sam… can I—" She breathed in unsteadily. "I'd really like to kiss you," she whispered.

#starfield #sam coe #fanfic #starfield fanfiction #eridani writes #caitlyn lynch #coemancer #wip wednesday #stars through my fingers like grains of sand

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