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lurking-latinist · 1 month

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For the meta for writers questions, 1, 3, 8, and 20!

Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

Ah, the Ace Longfic! Which still doesn't have a title to itself. It is supposed to be like ten chapters but will probably be more than that, and I'm in chapter four! I'm trying not to talk about it too much online because then I won't want to write the actual thing, but without spoilers, it's a series of solo adventures for Ace that explore her parallels with/similarity to the Doctor. I'm trying to actually write full adventures and I'm having fun coming up with interesting characters for her to meet. Plot less so, but we'll get there.

Since she is on her own and filling the Doctor's shoes, I've found she works less and less well as a POV character. So I'm writing from the perspectives of people she meets along the way, which also allows me to show how she's growing and changing and getting weirder (as she should). My current POV character is a wet-behind-the-ears military officer posted to an isolated space station where secret scientific experiments are being done. I'm sure you can guess whether the scientific experiments go wrong or not. My young officer has to step up and make complex moral judgment calls (which she does not want to do but discovers she will if she has to) when both her superiors get their brains taken over.

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Hahaha I always do just write it anyway! That's why I have so many ficlets. The things I dream about and don't write are the big sprawling daydream AUs that won't distil into one scene.

Oh fine OK I do have one key scene but the reason I haven't written it is because no one will have any idea what it's all about. Remember you asked for this! This is from the viewpoint of an agent of the Gallifreyan CIA who's been spying on the Seventh Doctor during the events of the novel Set Piece.

It's a shame to see a good agent--never reliable, but brilliant at his best--end up in such a state. A shame, but not surprising. He's not the first agent to end his career like this and he won't be the last, especially being a renegade as he is. They know from his file that nine centuries' hard living has put him in his seventh body already. Most of his career he's believed he was defying the Agency. Some of it he actually was. They've retrofitted quite a bit of their timeline planning around his entirely unauthorized interventions--and it's always turned out better than you'd hope. Now he's stranded, sponging off an old friend, health broken, nerves shot all to pieces. He's lost that TARDIS of his--gossip says they'd grown hopelessly into each other--if she's dead he'll have a horrendous psychic wound. Perhaps that's even the root of what ails him; perhaps that's the reason he's drinking French wine laced with opium at ten o'clock in the morning local time. Not much else he can hope to do for it, not without a Gallifreyan medic. And he won't come home, they know that too. He'll wither away there, jumping at shadows, country servant-girls pitying him, before he'll come home and be properly looked after. Some of the agents think he can't anymore; after so long away, they say, he can't take his place in Gallifrey's telepathic web. The closest he can get, now, is the buzz and chatter of human voices around him. They note how he haunts the kitchens. He's made a wreck of his lives and fortunes, probably his ship as well. He's reduced to drifting about in the local skirmish called the Franco-Prussian War--a purely human conflict, not even a branch of the War, which would be something--and he isn't even doing anything there. He's serving as a dreadful warning to young agents: the renegade life may seem exciting but this is how it ends. There's some suggestion they should inform Cardinal Braxiatel. If you want to speak to him, you should do it soon. Before nineteenth-century drugs and living on his nerves and the loss of his ship and the unknown wound in his shoulder he keeps rubbing take their toll. Even the humans say he isn't quite all there. And wherever else it is he's going, it's somewhere the CIA can't reach.

It's a weird book, Set Piece. Don't worry, Seven has a very complicated plan going behind all this. But he does have something of a breakdown. It ends up being quite cathartic for him actually. (He's drinking the drugged wine because someone else is drugging it and he doesn't want them to know that he knows. He claims.)

8. Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?

I like to read the sort of thing I write, certainly! (Although there's some things I've written that I'm pretty sure if someone else had written them I'd find hopelessly saccharine.) But there's also things I like to read that I could never write. Novel-length fics, for sure, I really appreciate but don't write; I also love a good pastiche of a book series with a strong authorial voice, but avoid doing them myself, after a really harrowing experience doing cod-Pratchett. (Although I had a really fun time doing that Stevenson-in-space bit. Maybe I just need the amount of distance provided by an AU to enjoy doing author pastiches? I should try space!Aubrey-Maturin sometime and see if that'll do it.)

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

These questions assume I don't shove all that in the notes already! :P

Oh yeah, I did do a bit of research for that Hornblower fic that I forgot to put in the notes! I wondered whether the superstition that it's bad luck to toast in water was old enough for the characters to think of it. The few minutes of research I did were pretty inconclusive, actually--one source did say it originated in the Royal Navy but didn't say when, which was not very useful to me, but I decided it at least sounds old enough that I could project it back to the 1800s. Apparently the superstition is specifically that someone who drinks a toast in water will die by drowning, which... well, both of them avoid that at least....

#doctor who #seventh doctor #ace mcshane #fic #writing

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traumxrei-archive · 2 years

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Yay, someone requested Ruggie in your event! May I also request Ruggie for #4?

【 steal some covers, share some skin 】

prompt #4: They slept in the same bed for reasons but now he was waking up and there’s something about their bleary eyes and mussed hair (ft. ruggie bucchi)

gender neutral! reader, includes book 3 plot spoilers, 600 follower event ficlet

author's note: OK SO I MESSED UP- i have two ruggie reqs for the event n i started writing one thinking that it was the first one...but i was wrong... *cries* but that's okay ^^ i hope you have fun reading some blushy hyena content bc i was mentally crying at how cute ruggie was while writing this aaaa

Sleep was important to Ruggie. So when he opened his eyes because of the sudden chill that hit him, he felt robbed of his precious minutes of sleep. Savanaclaw wasn't the coldest place to be, but nighttime brought about cooler temperatures that had the hyena curling up under his blankets.

And currently, his blankets were not around him. A whine lodged into his throat as he sleepily pried open his eyes in search of his blanket. He turned, only to be half-scared to death as the Prefect's peaceful face came into view.

Ruggie's heart started beating wildly as he basically jumped backward right into his wall. What were they….? Little pieces of lucidity started to return to him amidst the sleepy haze. Right. They had that deal with Azul and their dorm was being seized. And his housewarden had pushed the responsibility of their temporary quarters onto him. Which led to their current arrangement.

He snorted, before lowering his hackles. Well, he couldn't be all that mad when they were looking absolutely adorable wrapped up in his blanket like that, could he? And especially not when they wrinkled their nose as Ruggie prodded a finger at their cheek. How surprisingly trusting even in their sleep. There was no harm in letting them catch a few more winks while he got ready, right?

But Ruggie found a slight…problem when he tried to get out of bed: their legs were tangled so closely together that he most certainly would wake them if he wasn't careful. Luckily, he was a seasoned thief. He'd gotten out of scrapes worse than a sleeping herbivore before. With a few groans out of the Prefect and a shift so they were buried deeper into Ruggie's pillow, he was finally out.

He made an immediate beeline straight for the Savanaclaw bathrooms. They were communal bathrooms and they filled up quick in the mornings, so coming early was a must to get them all to himself. He quickly brushed his teeth, washing the sleep out of his system entirely with the cold water before donning his dorm uniform.

When he made his way back, he was surprised to see that they haven't budged an inch from where they were sleeping before. He let out a chuckle before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Prefect~" Ruggie gently placed his hand on their shoulder, shaking lightly. "Ya gotta get up now, it's mornin' time."

What he certainly wasn't expecting was for their hand to shoot out only to grab his arm and tug. He let out a yelp as his back hit the bed, their body landing squarely on top of his.

"You're so warm, Ruggie," Their hoarse whisper sent a shiver down his spine.

He snapped himself out of it by pushing at their cheek, "C'mon, little birdie. Leona-san's gonna be real mad if ya don't wake up on time. Today's the big day, right?" And something in Ruggie's chest sank when he thought about the fact that this was the very last day that he and the Prefect would be sharing a bed. He frowned; because why would he be sad, again—?

"But I'm sleepy 'n you're comfy," They whined softly as they buried themself deeper into his shoulder. He pushed his head back to make room as he felt soft breaths hitting his skin; leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He swallowed, "After the stunt you 'n the gremlin pulled last night? 'Course you're tired, shishishi~"

He remembered the absolutely annoyed look on Leona's face as they made a clamor right inside his room. And he also remembered the pleading look Leona sent him, trying to get him to get them out. Well, one of the perks of living in a big family was that he wasn't bothered by the racket. So he could've slept just fine. But a pampered prince like Leona? He cracked within an hour, agreeing unconditionally to their plan; much to Ruggie's delight.

There was a non-committal grunt before they tightened their grip on him. He sighed before attempting to sit up slightly, "Let go already, I don't got all day, y'know."

"Give me a kiss first."

Ruggie's ears twitched as he blanked slightly, "What?"

"A morning kiss," There was a small sigh as if they were exasperated that he didn't understand what a kiss was. In reality, he was just trying to wrap his head around the fact that they wanted a kiss from him- "Like a prize for waking up."

Ruggie wasn't sure which way to spin this. Was this just a joke, or were they being serious about this? He couldn't tell, especially without being able to look at their face.

"I'll…" He hesitated before his voice took on its usual teasing tone. "I'll give you two if ya sit up." He hoped that they'd say "no way" and push him away. Then he could give them his signature laugh, and they could go on their merry wa–

What he wasn't expecting was for them to suddenly sit up— so suddenly, in fact, that he almost got head-butted in the chin— with their bleary eyes blinking expectantly at him. And that coupled with the fact that they were precariously perched on his lap was not helping him recover his face any quicker.

"My prize," They simpered; a sly quirk to their lips. And Seven's above, Ruggie was doing all he could to not just give in to their whims. There was an order to things that they clearly weren't following! How was he supposed to just kiss them when it barely dawned on him that he liked them in the first place!

"That was a joke," Ruggie tried for a smile; tightly-lipped as it was.

But they surprised him yet again when their hand stubbornly cradled his chin, "It's just a kiss. Are you scared or something?"

"'M not a chicken," Ruggie muttered before leaning in to give them a kiss on the cheek. "There." He ignored the way his tail went stiff behind him and the too-loud beating of his heart.

"And the other one?" They tilted that bedhead of theirs to the side. "You said I'd get two."

Great Seven. He felt like he would do anything for them at that moment. Still sleep-warm and his own scent wrapping around them like a blanket. The expectant look in their eyes and the mussed-up state of their hair that Ruggie just wanted to help fix…

Ruggie had half the mind to use his magic before he got too carried away; quickly mumbling, "Laugh with Me" under his breath. Their body jerked up and away, mirroring his movements.

"You think I'll give ya the second one that easily, little birdie?" Ruggie bluffed, nerves still thrumming under his skin. He just hoped that he wasn't flushing as warm as he felt.

"That's not fair," They pouted, and Ruggie made them do a little spin just to see their lips jut out more.

"All's fair when my stomach's still hungry, shishishi~" Ruggie marched out of the door with them still in tow. "Now get cleaned up and if ya don't got morning breath, maybe I'll kiss you properly this time."

With those words he released his magic, making a break down the hallways and praying that they weren't chasing after him. Because if they were, then he wouldn't have an explanation for the way his ears twitched wildly nor the unrelenting heat on his face that darkened his skin.

Ah, what was he supposed to do now? He was smart enough to know that this meant he liked that twittering little human a lot more than he initially thought. He smacked his own cheeks lightly. Well, look at the bright side. At least he knew to look forward to giving them a kiss sometime in the future.

thank you for reading my blushy n teasing hyena brainrot ! if you'd like to read more, here are my masterlists <3

#/trau's milestone event #/trau writes #ruggie my beloved #and if i want to fluster him?#what then?#ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst fics #twst fic #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie x reader #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

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Broken Ornaments

For @thatesqcrush’s Holiday Bingo! Moodboard + ficlet

Frederick Chilton x Reader

Warnings: Post season 3 injuries, past child sexual abuse mention, angst

500 words

Dr. Chilton never had a surgeon’s hands—in all your time together he’d never admitted it to you, but you heard a rumor that he switched to psychiatry in disgrace after a patient died on the table. It didn’t surprise you. For all his arrogant bluster, you knew your Frederick was a soft, nervous creature deep down. His hands probably used to tremble at the sight of blood.

Now his hands trembled all the time without needing a reason. After surviving severe burns, they didn’t work the way they used to.

His mother scolded him for nearly dropping an old box of Christmas decorations when she’d handed it to him two days ago—a gift for his home, to carry on the tradition now that she was getting too old.

Tradition. You wondered what that meant for the Chiltons.

Frederick’s relationship with his family was strained, and he rarely told you anything about them. He was uncharacteristically quiet on the drive home.

Festive music and cinnamon filled the cavernous halls of the ostentatious mansion you shared, but Frederick was sullen as he took delicate red and white ornaments out of the box and arranged them on the tree. It was a slow process with scarred skin wrapping his fingers too tightly for them to move quite right, and with the last joint amputated off several of them. Considering he had been doused in gasoline and left to burn, it was lucky he was alive at all, much less able to walk and decorate trees by the very next Christmas, but it was still frustrating for him to be trapped in a body that didn’t cooperate.

He swore as an antique glass bauble shattered on the floor, spraying its red guts in a spatter-pattern over the hardwood.

“That’s OK, let me get it!” you said, not wanting him to attempt cleaning up sharp shards himself. At least you were both wearing shoes. A long, agonizing sigh rattled from Frederick’s lungs.

“These belonged to my grandfather.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry. Maybe we can glue it back together.”

He shook his head.

“Really—I’ve got dexterous hands and I’m good at puzzles. I can fix it.”

“No. He was a fucking bastard. Groped me when I five years old then gave me candy to shut me up. I hate these ornaments.”

You looked at the one in your hand, and back at Frederick. You let it fall, and it exploded into glitter.

He stared back at you in stunned silence, as if he had never considered that one could simply do that. He picked up another one and dropped it.

One by one, you took turns plucking ornaments off the tree like apples and smashing them on the ground, crunching them under your shoes. It would hurt later, when, fingers bleeding, you had to pick up the pieces. But right now, turning each cursed memory into festive dust on the ground was becoming a new favorite holiday tradition.

@beccabarba / @caked-crusader / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @da-po / @madamsnape921

#frederick chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #moodboard #Raúl Esparza #thatesqcrush holiday bingo #my writing #I just meant to do a blurb to go along with the moodboard I guess it's a long blurb #moodboards

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lia-jones · 3 years

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Growing Together - Chapter Seventeen - One Guest Too Many

Author's note: If you haven't read it already, I invite you to read my Halloween Ficlet: His Worst Nightmare. It has insight into what is about to happen in this chapter, and it will make it richer. I hope you like it. Enjoy!

Victor stroked his sleeping son’s curls before turning off the light. It was expected that Owen wouldn’t take long to fall asleep, he had been running around all afternoon, playing soccer with his father. With a chuckle, Victor closed Owen’s bedroom door and walked to the living room, where his wife waited for him.

He admired her from the doorframe, sitting on the sofa, her legs crossed on the upholstery as she minded her phone. For years, he had given up on his dream of building a home, resigned to a seemingly certain fate of solitude. He still couldn’t believe that this was his reality now. He was a husband and a father, he shared his bed and played soccer in the park, he had Valentine’s Day dinners and teacher-parent meetings. He was so happy that sometimes it was hard to keep his calm and collected demeanor. It was like he could burst at his seams at any moment, and laugh until he cried.

His heart jumped with joy when the love of his life turned to him, welcoming him with a warm smile.

“He’s sleeping?”

“Yes.” He smiled back. “Didn’t even stir when I went to check on him.”

He sat beside her, pulling her feet onto his lap, taking the phone from his pocket.

“Alright, let’s get this done.” He gently squeezed her toes.

“Ready when you are.” Andrea showed him her schedule on her phone.

There had been a slight change in their Sunday evening, one that was of the utmost importance. Between LFG and LCG affairs, and the duties they entailed, it was essential that they coordinate their schedules, so at least one of them could attend to Owen at all times and they had some free time on the weekends. It was a delicate dance, oftentimes almost impossible to execute, but they would always find a way.

“Alright.” He focused on his screen. “At 7 pm tomorrow, dinner with the partners from London.”

“On my schedule.” She nodded, grimacing after, as she remembered something. “Damn it, we need to find a babysitter. Do you think we could leave Bug with Goldman?”

Victor smirked. Of course he had thought of that already, who did she think he was?

“Goldman is available, I already confirmed with him. He’ll take Owen.” Victor swiped again on his phone. “Tuesday. I can pick up Owen from school and make dinner. I have nothing past 6 pm.”

“Actually, we should go shopping to get some clothes for him. We could go pick him up together and head to the mall, maybe have dinner there?”

“Didn’t you tell me you had to go to the University on Tuesday?” He checked on his phone, wondering if he had missed it.

“I had to reschedule for Friday, Olive will be away on a business trip on Tuesday.”

“You’ll have to reschedule.” Victor responded tentatively, hoping she wouldn’t be too upset.

“You’re busy?” She checked her phone.

“I am.” He nodded, preparing himself for a reaction. “And so are you. Mia invited us for dinner on Friday.”

“Ugh.” She complained, rubbing her forehead. “Why?”

“Andrea.” He tried to appease her.

“Oh please, you know she just wants to ask one of us for an interview or a photo shoot.” She removed her feet from his lap in protest. “We don’t have time for anything else, but we have for this?”

“She keeps inviting us and I keep refusing. I couldn’t say no again. Besides, if a certain someone would update her schedule when she knows she will be busy, none of this would’ve happened.” He scolded.

“Friday is still not good for me.” She glared at him.

“You were the one who agreed to a double date with them on our wedding day. I thought you wanted this. You still don’t like her?”

“I don’t not like her.” She sighed. “I just don’t like like her. But that’s not the point anyway, I can’t do it on Friday.”

Victor paused for a moment, assessing the situation. Despite what he had thought, Andrea was still having a hard time fully accepting his past, and even after marrying him, there seemed to be something that was making her jealous. That, Victor simply could not have. He had to show his wife the truth, that she was the only woman for him, and the best way to do it was to get them both together. Now, more than ever, it was important that they went.

“Ok, then.” Victor sat back with a smirk. “Since you are unavailable, you should call her and cancel. I’m sure she will understand.”

Andrea froze, staring at him, not expecting his move. Andrea could be many things, but she wasn’t impolite, and Mia would insist enough for her to say yes. She was relying on Victor to be the villain and refuse since she knew she wouldn’t be able to do it herself.

“Maybe you could do it.” She practically batted her eyelids at him. “She talked to you first.”

“Aren’t you the busy one?” He lifted a brow at her. “Don’t expect me to do your dirty work.”

“You received her invitation, not me.” She ran her hand across his chest slowly, knowing how it would affect him. “I think you-”

“Nope.” It took all his strength to resist her, as her touch was enough to cloud his judgment and make him cave. “If you are the one who can’t make it, you should be the one to tell her.”

Andrea rolled her eyes and sighed, defeated.

“Fine, we’re going then.” She sat straight on the sofa. “She’s going to make me agree anyway, may as well save me the trouble.”

“Excellent.” Victor pulled her to his lap, craving more of her. “Now that that is settled, we can spend time on other activities.”

“And for the record… Mmm.” She moaned as Victor pulled her even closer, his lips tracing her jaw. “I did not agree to go on a double date.”

“Yes, you did.” He spoke with his lips still pressed on her skin, busy tasting her. “We should have a double date.” He teased, mimicking her voice. “Ignore what Victor says about your food, we can cook together.”

“That does sound like something I would say.” Her fingers ran through his hair, sending ripples of pleasure down his spine. “Although I do not sound like that.”

“You don’t.” A wicked smile widened on his face, as he buried it in the nape of her neck. “You sound shorter.”

“I beg your pardon?!” She pulled away with a gasp.

Victor, however, knew his wife better than anyone and was quick to react. He took her in a hungry kiss, deeply and greedily, his body aching for her, his erection pressing against the fabric of his sweat pants. By the time they broke the kiss, both panting and drunken with lust, she had long forgotten what she was supposed to be upset about.

Not wasting any time, he took his love in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, ready to show her how special she was to him, ending their weekend on a perfect note.

His wife complained during the week about the mountain of emails Mia had sent her, excited about their night together. They had agreed to cook together that evening, partly to bond, partly to spite him, so they regularly traded recipes, deciding on one that could fit everyone’s taste. Unsurprisingly, Victor was on dessert duty and was asked to bring pudding.

Victor watched his wife as they took the elevator to Mia’s apartment, her eyes slightly shiny from exhaustion, yet an honest smile on her face. She had had a terrible week and somehow managed to sleep even less than him, so he figured at this point she was actually welcoming a moment of relaxation with friends, even if it was with Mia.

Naturally, Mia had to almost ruin it all the moment she opened the door. She was so excited she almost tackled Andrea to the ground with a hug, if not for Victor’s vigilant hand.

“Watch it, dummy.” He scolded. “I want to leave here with my wife in one piece, if you don’t mind.”

“I’m so sorry, Andrea.” Mia clumsily brushed his wife’s clothes with her hands. “I’m just so happy to see you here.”

Victor glanced at his son, whose eyes were wide in horror.

“You must be Owen!” She beamed at him. “My name is Mia, how are you?”

“Hi, pleased to meet you.” He quickly extended his hand to shake hers, before she got any ideas about hugging him as well. Smart boy.

“You are your father’s son, so polite!” She entered the apartment, inviting them in. “Did you bring the goods?” Mia glanced at the bags Andrea was holding.

“Don’t worry, I got your stash.” She chuckled, handing her one of the bags.

“It’s pudding, not heroin.” Victor scoffed, as he took his son’s coat off.

“It might as well have heroin, it’s so addictive.” Mia peeked inside the bag. “Come in, Gavin is in the kitchen preparing some ingredients.”

The last time he had been in Mia’s apartment was when he brought her home from the hospital, after the Blackout and the Queen’s death. He had laid her in bed, tucked her in, telling her to rest, and cooked her lunch, leaving her kitchen spotless afterwards. As he had navigated the foreign stove and cabinets, taking and putting back ingredients and utensils, he was confident they had a chance, and he would fight for it. His joy, however, had a bittersweet taste, like he had lost something significant that day, although he didn’t know what. There was a feeling of longing and sadness eating at him, one that not even the thought of finally having a relationship with Mia could fill. As usual, he had shoved it aside, like he did with most of his feelings, focusing on the present moment.

In hindsight, maybe he knew he was so tired of being lonely that he was mistaking things. Maybe he knew he didn’t love her. When she handed him the wedding invitation, it was a blow, but not as deadly as he thought it would be. And when he met his wife, in that beautiful teal dress, with that distracting peacock on her wrist, he knew right away that he had finally found out what love felt like, and he was never able to let go. Andrea needed to know that, like she knew the sun was hot - without a shadow of a doubt.

They found Gavin chopping onions at the counter, an English Springer Spaniel at his feet, keeping him company. Owen immediately became fascinated with the opportunity of making a canine friend.

“Can I pet him?” He completely ignored Gavin’s attempt to greet him.

“Yes, he is friendly.” Gavin looked at him with sweet eyes. “Scratch his ears, he likes that.”

“What’s his name?” Owen did as suggested, giggling when the dog turned his head slightly, to fully enjoy the gesture.

“Flyer.” Mia chimed in. “You know, he used to be a police dog. We took him home when he became too old to do the job.”

“He used to chase criminals?” Owen became even more excited.

Victor saw himself years ago, making soup in that kitchen, alone with his thoughts, and looked at his wife, watching over his son, eyes trained on him and the dog’s reaction. His heart beat faster, bringing light to a truth: the feelings of longing and loss had vanished the moment he laid eyes on Andrea. She was his destiny, he was certain of that. He came behind her, gently wrapping her hand with his, as a silent thank you

“He caught a lot of criminals in his day.” Gavin took him away from his thoughts, still talking about his pet. “He also has a good nose for drugs, that was his job for quite a while.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t let him smell my dad’s pudding.” Owen spoke in all seriousness, making them all laugh.

“Ok, we need to start dinner.” Mia turned to the boy. “Owen, would you like to watch cartoons with Flyer, while we cook dinner? Or would you rather stay here with us?”

“Can I watch cartoons, please?” Owen asked. Andrea seemed hesitant.

“Don’t worry. Flyer will take good care of him, won’t you boy?” Gavin ran his fingers through the dog’s soft brown and white coat. “And he’s just in the next room, we’ll hear him if he needs us.”

“Behave.” Victor stroked his son’s curls before he left for the living room, the dog right behind him.

“Aw, you’re a dad.” Mia cooed at Victor.

“I am.“ Victor smiled, pulling his wife to his side, his hand caressing her back. “So, I was promised a meal. Do I have to make it myself?” He teased.

“Oh no, today I will make you swallow your bitter words with my cooking abilities.” Mia lifted her chin. “You just stay there, enjoying your wine and the show.” Mia took a pan out of her cupboard, showing it to his wife. "Andrea and I will cook dinner.”

Victor had to admit, it was quite the show. A horror movie, to be exact. Some things did never change, and Mia in the kitchen was one of them. If not for his and Andrea’s watchful eye, she would’ve set the kitchen on fire at least three times. Victor was antsy on his seat, seeing her almost make all kinds of mistakes, aching to take over, but since Mia had decided he wouldn’t touch the food unless it was to eat it, he couldn’t help but sit idly watching his wife cook and stop every one of Mia’s attempts to kill them all. So much for showing her cooking prowess. At least she was wise enough to ask Andrea to participate.

“How are you still alive? Or your husband?” Victor scolded.

“Well, it’s a new recipe.” Mia pouted. “Everyone has troubles when cooking something new.”

“Just sit here and watch while Andrea does it.” Victor sighed, annoyed. “Maybe you can learn a thing or two.”

“I definitely can learn a lot.” Mia laughed nervously, taking a pen and paper to take notes. “This way is probably better.”

“Safer is what you mean.” Victor continued. “Although I have to say, if there is anyone here who can think of a way of accidentally killing someone with a pen, it’s you.”

“Come on, she was not that bad!” Andrea smiled at Mia. “In any case, be careful with my husband. I need to take him home in one piece, or they won’t give me back my deposit.”

“I should be the one concerned here!” Mia laughed, then turning to Victor. “Do you remember how we first met? You hit me with your ball! You’re the dangerous one.”

“I hit you with a ball because a certain dummy didn’t know any better than to get out of the way.” He calmly retorted.

“It was your lousy aim!” She argued. “You made me pudding the next day, remember? I still have your bowl!” Turning to the cupboard,she took something from it. “Here! My souvenir.”

Victor’s mind went back to his childhood as he saw the old bowl. He remembered his child self, always acting strong and logical, when inside he was fragile and hungry for affection. If he could travel back in time again he would go to that boy and tell him that despite what was still ahead, he would be alright.

“You kept it all this time?” His voice was hoarse with emotion.

“Of course.” Mia replied, her voice shaky.

Gavin cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. Victor raised his eyes to meet his wife’s, finding them shiny and sad. She was getting it all wrong. He was moved, yes, but not because he was reminiscing on some sweet memory. It was because he could see how far he had come, and how blessed he was now. It was not because of Mia, it was because of her.

“This has to be a record for you.” Victor changed his tone to a mocking one. “You kept something for over twenty years and didn’t break it.”

“Dinner is almost ready.” Gavin declared, probably more because he wanted to change the subject than the urgency of the food being served. “I’ll go set the table.”

“Help Andrea, I’ll go.” Mia got up from her seat, heading for the living room.

“It’s alright, I’ll help Andrea.” Victor got up from his seat.

When they were finally alone, he then turned to his wife, his arm wrapping around her waist, his hand cupping her cheek lovingly, making her face him.

“Don’t entertain silly ideas in your head.”

“What do you mean?” She frowned.

“I’m yours.” He looked into her eyes, hoping she could see the truth in his.

She stood silent for a moment, staring back at him.

“Hey, what are you people waiting for?” Mia called from the living room. “The table is set.”

After some good food and some good wine, Andrea’s light seemed to shine a little brighter, carefree, bantering and laughing.

“Did I tell you already how much I love your dog?” She smiled. “Look at him, watching over Owen. It’s adorable.” She gazed lovingly at their son, who had fallen asleep on the couch after dinner.

“Alright, who wants a final drink?” Mia spoke, bringing a tray with several liqueur bottles.

“As long as you don’t spill it on me, like you almost did with the wine.” Victor retorted.

“Please, even if I ruin your black shirt, you have hundreds of them.” Mia swatted at him.

Before Victor could argue, Andrea jumped in, all excited.

“Wait, wait! I know this one!” She raised her hand playfully. “I have been extensively educated on the subject of black shirts, I have been preparing for this moment for two years now.”

Victor remembered all the lectures he had given his wife when she said he “looked like he always wore the same shirt.” That was her chance for retaliation. He braced himself for impact.

“Apparently they all look alike but they are all different.” His wife continued. “There are many shades of black. For example, I would say this one is closer to coal than pitch black, but Victor has shirts in other tones, like jet black, onyx or raven. Also, the collars differ, there is the classic, the button down, the pinned, and my favorite, the mandarin. The fabric is also different, there is Oxford cloth, Pinpoint Oxford, Royal Oxford, among other material and finishing touches. They can also have different buttons, different cuffs, you name it. Victor has many black shirts, but I can guarantee you there aren’t two alike.”

Victor was stunned. To be honest, he never thought she had heard his explanation on the matter, she would always glare at him with half hooded eyes, like she was bored to death. But she did. Moreover, she apparently memorized it.

“Surprised?” She gave him a sly smile. “So what’s my grade, Teacher Victor?”

He couldn’t help but grin at her. Under the table, he took her hand, tracing on her palm A+.

“Wow, Victor seems impressed! That’s not a common feat!” Mia took a sip of her drink. “You are truly made for each other. I’m honestly glad everything ended well and not in bloody tragedy.”

“What do you mean, bloody tragedy?” Andrea frowned.

There was a moment of silence in the kitchen. Gavin glared at Mia.

“They need to know.” Mia turned to Gavin, in all seriousness.

“Need to know what?” Victor asked.

Another long pause. The hosting couple looked down.

“Mia.” Victor warned, starting to lose his patience.

“Ok… So… Something happened at your wedding.” Mia started. “The reason why I pulled you into the house before the reception… was because there was someone with a gun trying to hurt you.”

“Wait, what?” Andrea was stunned. “Who?”

Mia took a deep breath.

“It was Daniel, Andrea. I saw him on top of a tree, rifle in hand. He was trying to kill you.”

Andrea looked at Mia with wide eyes, the words still sinking in her. Victor, on the other hand, was livid.

“Daniel was at my wedding?” Victor snapped, enraged. “How am I only knowing of this-”

He was interrupted by a sudden movement in his peripheral vision. Andrea had doubled over, spilling the contents of her stomach all over Mia’s floor.

“Do you feel sick?” He asked his still fairly pale wife while they were driving home. “Let me know if you need me to pull over.”

“I’m fine.” She croaked. “Is Owen-”

“He’s asleep.” Victor assured her.

“Did Gavin explain how it happened, how he…” Andrea shook her head in disbelief. “How did he get in there in the first place?”

It was his fault. He was careless. He let his guard down.

“I will speak to Gavin later. Don’t be afraid, I will not let him hurt you.”

“I’m not afraid.” Andrea’s anger seeped through her voice. “I’m infuriated. I’m tired of people always thinking they can take whatever they want.” She looked Victor in the eyes, her lip quivering. “I’m sick of being bullied.”

Victor’s jaw clenched so hard that his teeth hurt. He was careless, he had let himself entertain with his happiness, letting his guard down. He was an idiot for believing the world would let him catch a break. And if not for Mia and Gavin, he would have paid a painful price: he would have lost what he treasured the most.

He clenched the steering wheel hard, vowing to himself never to make the same mistake again. And Daniel would be punished for all the pain that he caused, and curse the day he laid a hand on Victor’s precious Light.

#Growing Pains - Series #Growingtogether #mlqc victor #mldd victor #mlqc fanfic #victor x oc #mister love queens choice #mister love dream date

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circumstellars · 4 years

Note

Hello there! Can I have a ficlet with dialogue prompt, 'What's making him scream like that?' for Five and Diego, or any siblings you like ;)

[Ok so this turned out slightly longer than intended, but I was able to blend it together with another idea I had for a follow up to this ficlet.

The context is that this is canon compliant in that it happens somewhere near the end of S1EP4, when passed out drunk Five is recovering in Diego’s bed.

Basically Five has an PTSD episode, or a night terror if that’s easier, and the line you prompted I rearranged and altered a bit to fit the scene, so I hope that’s okay?

In this addition to the canon, when they were little Ben begins to have trouble controlling the otherworldly monster he uses, and Five has made a promise he won’t let things get out of hand. Fast forward to S1, where Luther and Diego are taking care of him, but before Al comes to deliver Eudora’s message, and it is sandwiched between two Five apocalypse flashbacks.

So so so many thanks to @michlle, or @/kkie on TUA Adult Fan Discord server. She’s an amazing beta that helped me in a pinch! So the only reason my grammar is so much better than usual is entirely thanks to her.

Very angsty. Blood, just a snippet a violence. Brotherly pain all around, emotional suffering. Enjoy! I hope you like it.]

================================================

⟨p⟩=md⟨x⟩/dt=mddt∫∞−∞x|ψ|2dx=m∫∞−∞x∂|ψ|2∂tdx. 'It's a simple fucking equation, what is wrong?' His shaky fingers struggled with the chalk, accidentally snapping off one end against the concrete wall. Five swore, making a face at the broken piece of chalk like it spoke ill of his mother.

Oh god. Mom. His face crumpled. 'The expectation values of displacement and momentum... obey time evolution equations analogous with,' a wet cough interrupted his deflated musing. He spun around and rested against the concrete he had been writing on moments before, before turning an eye to Dolores. '... the mechanics of Schrödinger’s equation.' Dolores gave him a weary look. Five avoided her gaze. She didn't know. It's not like she had been forced to pick up quantum physics at age ten, and really, he had to forgive her for that. The sun was powerful today, as it had been at least seventeen of the twenty-six days he'd been stuck in the apocalyptic ruins of his former city. It should have only been the end of April, if that newspaper clipping he held close was in fact the last thing to have been printed, but it felt hotter than middle July easily. The aggressive winds of mid-afternoon whipped all sorts of debris into his frail body and any exposed skin, and Five simply couldn't risk any injuries that could deplete his energy. He was on the cusp of fixing this, he could feel it in his exhausted bones.

He swallowed down the start of a painful sob, careful to steel over his expression. 'I know you said something about the farthest right term Dolores, but I'm not neglecting it,' Five chided, breathing into the dirty scarf around his face.

He turned around and scooped up the chalk he had rejected moments ago. 'The spatial extent of the particle wavefunction isn't smaller than the variation length-scale of the potential. You're clever, and pretty, but not that clever.'

Five snorted at his own banter, smiling into the trails of chalk spilling from his hand as it ran across the rubble. 'Now, listen carefully this time...' --- Diego unceremoniously dropped Dolores on a nearby chair. The fuck is this for? He gave the mannequin an odd look. A few steps away Luther lowered their brother carefully into Diego's roomy, luxurious twin cot, rolling the sleepy, drunken Five so that he was resting comfortably on his side.

Diego sidled next to Luther, joining him in looking over their tiny brother. Small, frozen in time for them both in memory and now, awkwardly, in reality too. The baby fat still very much clung to his still rounded features and made him look impossibly younger in a way that brought nostalgia roaring up the esophagus like heartburn. He was supposedly twice their age now? Diego scrunched his nose; to think this child, for all intents and purposes, laid here so serenely- so sweetly, dare he say it, looked like a boy who'd just tired himself out at school that day. Yet he knew, the moment Five sobered up, the illusion would crumble swiftly and without mercy. 'Funny, if I didn't know he was such a prick, I'd say he looks almost adorable in his sleep.'

Luther snorted. 'Well, don't worry. He'll sober up eventually... and be back to his normal, unpleasant self.'

That's not good enough. 'Yeah - I can't wait that long.' Diego spun on his heel, intending to grab provisions. Five had about ten minutes of rest before Diego would be ready to forcibly pull him into consciousness with soda crackers and ginger-ale. 'I need to find out what connections he has to these lunatics before someone else dies.'

Luther didn't respond right away, eyes flickering to Five and back. He looked pensive, uncomfortable. Diego still hadn’t gotten used to the subtle changes in Luther's personality; it was disquieting the way he looks so much bigger than he used to, and yet now he seems so much smaller to Diego than he ever physically was. The big man had an air of constant uncertainty around him.

'That stuff he was saying before...' Luther began after a moment, 'what do you think he meant by that?' Diego glanced over his shoulder at Five's sleeping figure, curled up tightly in foetal position. His expression darkened in his sleep, and Diego frowned. 'I don't know...' The words came slowly, his focus narrowing in on his littlest brother. He turned quickly again, box of soda crackers forgotten on his dingy counter.

Five began to fuss, still unconscious, but his body began to shake some, and his entire expression was pinched in discomfort. Luther was watching Diego, puzzled, and followed his eyes back to Five on the cot behind him.

Then came the screaming.

Both Luther and Diego jumped back in alarm as the most harrowing, stomach-churning scream came from Five. He was folded into himself, clutching at his own biceps so hard his knuckles were bone-white. The screams that were coming from him sounded so raw Diego was sure he was damaging his vocal cords in some way.

Luther came down from his initial shock quicker than Diego and was at the cot in an instant. Diego held his breath, jaw fighting to unhinge. He was always quick in his reflexes, but something held Diego down and glued his feet to the floor. His body was alarmingly stiff with inaction.

Luther was gripping at Five, holding him as he jerked back and forth, scream after scream tearing through his rattled body. Over and over Luther tried to talk over Five, wake him up, continuously asking him what is wrong and 'what is happening Five? Can't you hear me?'

'W-ww-why is h-h-h-he screaming like t-that?'

Diego’s broken voice was swallowed up in the cacophony of Five's agonising wailing and Luther's panicked mantra of Five, Five, Please Five, Five!

Five's painful screams were tearing bloody wounds into Diego’s eardrums, and the sound of his little brother in such convincingly raw misery pulled terrifying tremors up from deep within his belly.

Go.

What happened?

Iego.

Five?

'-Iego. Diego! Diego!' Luther's voice hit him like an anvil. 'Hey?'

Why is he screaming like that?

All at once life moved forward with a start. Air sucked its way back into Diego's lungs and his attention snapped to his brothers. Five was no longer on the bed, but crumpled over on their large brother's lap, clutching not his own arms anymore but instead had all ten, trembling fingers gripped into Luther's jacket for absolute, dear life. Luther had a pained expression etched into his normally hard visage, and his arms came up to hold Five in place as gently as Diego had ever seen his giant brother move. It only dawned on him then, that Five wasn't screaming anymore.

Diego moved quietly, setting himself on the bed next to his brothers as silently as he could, almost as if he were afraid to spook an already terrified deer pinned between a rocky ledge and an oncoming truck.

Mindlessly Diego laid his gloved hand to his little brother's head, cupping the back of it gingerly. Something heavy threatened to pull his heart into his guts, and the struggle disguised itself in the shadows of his expression.

For a while everything was deadly quiet. The pipes in the old building gurgled apropos nothing, the boxing business outside long closed for the evening with only Al's occasional footsteps any sure sign life still existed outside this hole he called home.

Diego couldn't hear much else, aside from the ragged breaths shaking Five's small chest. His eyes were still closed, creased with concern, delicate fans of black eyelashes twitching as his brain worked through whatever dark secrets Five hadn’t dared to yet share with any of his siblings.

'Five...' but Diego’s voice aborted the words in his throat, and he met Luther's eyes. He found no answers.

What did you see, Five?

--- Day 42.

A rat scampered past Five’s feet and jumped into a pile of debris outside the remains of a nearby fast-food joint. He shaded his eyes with his left hand and looked over the large expanse of the now lifeless tundra he used to call home. The details of everything in the distance dissolved into the intensely hot horizon.

‘Today is as good a day as any,’ he said, exhaling loudly. Dolores agreed from where she was perched in her wagon. I’m ready.

Five ripped off his weighty, layered scarf and tossed it to the ground. Today is the day. He was going to get back to his family.

He took another deep breath and ran over some calculations a final time in his head, his eyebrows pinching together with determination. Focus.

First, just a hum. Then, a moment later a spark. Five growled and redoubled his efforts, tightening his fists as hard as they would go, until the jagged half-moons of his nails cut right into the flesh of his palms.

‘Come on!’ And then it appeared. Small, at first, but definitely, absolutely, positively the start of the vortex, undeniable as it began flickering into existence. It was immediately apparent Five couldn’t do this for a second longer than he had to; every muscle in his body was desperately working to help him rip a hole right into the material of the space-time continuum, and pain blossomed in every limb, one after another.

‘COME ON!’ The air around the wormhole became unstable, trying to escape the vacuum and whipping everything around Five into a frenzy. Dolores tipped over in her wagon, and Five nearly lost his grip on the material of time. He willed himself into ignoring her momentarily, letting out a howl as he pulled open the vortex as far as it would go. Five inhaled shakily, and let go.

I did it. There it was. He was finally going home. Five’s knees nearly buckled underneath him as he was hit with a heady wave of excitement and relief. Luther. Vanya. Ben! Diego-- all of them. He was going to see them all again, today. Now. Tears spilt from his eyes, but he didn’t take any notice. There were flickers of life beyond the vortex, and then faces, and bodies, and Allison and Klaus, unmistakable as they filtered in and out of focus like the signal was dying on an old television set. Five was animated in an instant and turned to grab Dolores. They had to go. Now. He scooped up her feather-light body. ‘Leave it, Dolores! We don’t have time!’ He’d find her a new sweater once they were home. Hell, he’d buy her a whole rack of her own sweaters, anything Dolores wants, if only they got home right now.

And then the screaming came.

Five whipped around.

Again. First one voice, then two. Many more joined them, and Five ran toward the wormhole.

‘BEN!’

Ben? Five braced himself against the pull of the vortex, the air thin and difficult to pull into his lungs. It whipped around him with a force he’d never felt before, and his hat and goggles were snatched from his head and thrown well into the distance. The shrieking was getting louder, closer, and the images from the other side pieced together the closer Five inched into its grip. The voices were blood-curdling, and his whole body went cold with terror.

‘Diego, don’t!’

‘Ben! Klaus, get out of the way!’

‘BEEEEEEEEEEEENNN!’

‘BEN! WHATS HAPPENING!?’

‘BEN!’

No.

No, no.

He was going back, it was going to be okay. Five was going back, it was going to be okay.

It all happened within the span of three seconds.

The fuzzy images of his siblings running, screaming, blood soaked into their clothes, painted across their young faces – dripping from their feet as they scrambled away.

Ben.

Ben’s body dangling nearly fifteen feet off the ground, monstrous appendages thrashing wildly and destroying the surroundings with savage flings.

Two grotesque limbs held his bloodied and mangled brother skywards, uninhibited by his terrified screams.

No.

No. no. no. no.

No. no. no. no. no. nonononono-

‘Someone stop him!’

‘Klaus you can’t! KLAUS-‘

It felt like his skin was being flayed from his muscle. Five thought he might have been screaming too but couldn’t hear anything. All he knew for sure was the feeling of his molecules being pulled apart.

Everything was silent. Like the deadness of space itself, for a fraction of a second, a microscopic fragment of time - absolutely nothing existed. Crunch.

The blood that hit his face hurt. And then someone pressed play.

Everything moved again and it knocked the wind out of his lungs. Five was violently thrown from the throes of the wormhole, sucked back into his own point in time and tossed several feet backwards into strewn debris.

‘NO!’

The vortex he’d spent forty-two days working on was gone, just like that. Absorbed into the material of space, the deep wound he’d used every ounce of energy to create was now healed over in a matter of seconds, lost to some other dimension and out of his grasp. Ben. He’d promised him. He had promised his brother he would be there, that he would figure it out.

That Ben wouldn’t die. But Five let him. He watched the brutal final seconds of his brother’s life, his body torn into pieces by the beast he tried so hard to contain. Five wasn’t there.

He didn’t make it. He had told Ben he wouldn’t let him die, but he did, and Five just watched it happen, unable to do absolutely fucking shit. The sun was merciless. It baked Ben’s blood on every part that had briefly touched the other side. It settled into the cracks of the tattered skin on his right hand, pulled at the skin under his eyes and on his cheeks – crusted where it had dripped into his mouth and over his tongue. When the trance that numbed Five finally broke, it was nightfall.

He still sat on his haunches, a few fingers on his left hand barely curled around Dolores’ shirt. And when it did, and his throat finally moved to swallow, his limbs twitching with overwhelming pain, and his chest trembling violently, the only thing Five could feel was the fiery strain of the unending wailing that tore ceaselessly from his lungs.

#tua #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #request fill #ficlets #five hargreeves #diego hargreeves #ben hargreeves #luther hargreeves #attempted canon-compliant angst featuring a bunch of the emotionally stunted man-children #my nonsense #mywriting #myworks #myficlets

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lineith · 5 years

Photo

Ok, people, I have a prisoner over here. This image,in it’s full color glory won’t see the light of day unless you do a little something for me~ Don’t get mad, it’s pretty simple: show some appreciation and support for our writers.

You’ll do one or all of the following, it’s up to you! 1. Go to that last fic you read and liked but didn’t comment or reblog, and leave a nice comment for the author. Maybe an “OMG”, your thoughts on the whole piece, some constructive criticism, whatever, just keep it positive. 2. Go to your favorite fanfic and leave another comment (or one for the first time!) and let them know how much that work means to you. 3. Go to your favorite writer’s account and leave them a comment in their asks, let them know how much you appreciate their writing. 4. If writing is not your forte, or it makes you anxious, reblog more than one of their works and leave your thoughts and love in the tags. You don’t know how many read them and appreciate them.

I’ve seen first hand how much work and time goes behind a ficlet, don’t get me started on whole chapters, and I’m quite disappointed by the lack of engagement. Oh yes, we all love free content but it’s time to give back. Just saying~ Once you’ve done so, leave a comment saying: done! Or something among those lines. Bonus points if you share your favorite fics and/or writers below. If this works and we get some love going around, I’ll try to make it worth your while~ I promise!

#lukanette #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Luka Couffaine #Miraculous Ladybug #You're almost there guys #Some more people reporting back #And you'll see this one #I had problems with the file and had to remake it #don't let my efforts be for naught #please #art of lineith

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egg2k16 · 4 years

Text

40 Fanfic Q’s Answered

the server wants answers, and they want them now!!! from this post

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Smut and pining all the way. Also, falling in love via laughing

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Eh...I don’t think so, I’m always 100% self-indulgent, so what u see is what I want

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Anything that has to do w mega sadness, I just Don’t. I can’t write anything sad, and if I do, there’s certainly gonna be A Lot of comfort afterwards

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

I have 91 wips, motherfuckers!!! My latest wip is a daddy month fic!

5. Share one of your strengths.

I think, since I’ve been trying to be sparser in my words, I’ve been able to better emphasize what isn’t being said

6. Share one of your weaknesses.

No action scenes from me are ever good, lmao

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

It was late at night, when he started to cry.

He didn't want to cry, but he did.

It's been years since he's last let himself feel, or was it since he was last allowed to feel?

He choked on his sobs, uncomfortable with his tears. He's forgotten how to properly cry. His entire body is shaking, and the connections between flesh and wire hurts.

He stops crying. He starts crying again.

This continues for another few minutes, until he feels as if he can't possibly have any more tears.

He wipes his face, pulls the covers up to his chin, and falls asleep.

(from Twilight on the Sea) I really like this bcus I don’t think I’ve ever really typed out crying in this way, n I tried to make it feel like it was a lot

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Cass was quiet for a moment. “... you know what? Maybe I’ll just go up there and surprise you.”

“If you do, then you already ruined the surprise, haven’t you?”

“Eh, I dunno about that. Seeing my beautiful face is a shock for many people.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.”

“Hey, Koda? I don’t know about you, but it’s really late here.”

“Really?” Koda asks, then remembers that time zones exist. “Oh crap, what time is it over there?”

“It’s midnight. What about you?”

“It’s eight o’clock. Only four hours difference?”

“Oh hey, that’s not so bad.”

“It reduces our time,” Koda said, a bit whining.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“What are you going to do? Move here? Send for me?”

“You’ll see.”

(from Together) This was a gift for one my best friends on here, @suncatchr , and it’s about his ocs!!! I love this a lot bcus while it’s a soulmate au, it’s not ur average soulmate au, and I tried making it as original as possible! And this blurb, I just wanted them to effuse so much love w/o having to say love...cries

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

If this is by posted fics, then I remember writing Look What You’ve Done to Me was very very difficult, bcus, since it’s also a gift, for @daniel-bryan , I wanted to write it Good, n since my buddy usually wrote from the love interest’s pov, I felt a weird pressure to write Daniel Bryan’s pov as good as I could

10. Which fic has been the easiest to write?

2 of my fics in Spanish!!! My oc centric one, Rayos y Centellas, and my shyan one, oye cariño, solo pienso en ti ! Turns out writing in ur native tongue makes everything easier

11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

It’s a very passionate hobby!!! I just!!! try to pour all of my love into everything I write!!!

12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

I’m not sure!!! I just watch movies n quietly scream to my gay lonesome bcus No One Ever Watches Movies ;-;

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

To just keep writing n not stop for details or forgotten lore, bcus it’s important to write down what’s firing u up Right Now. Of course, it’s very difficult following that ;;-;;

14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

“No adverbs!” “No ‘said’!” “It has to make grammatical sense!” sometimes things Need those

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Was gonna say my rewrite of the end of The Rover, but actually, my SPN fic Ube . Shit was peak inspired

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

Eridirk (Eridan Ampora/Dirk Strider from Homestuck) all the way. The one otp that’s stayed thru thick n thin <3

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

A little mix of both, and tbh it depends on the fic, but I tend to write chronologically

18. Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

I’ve started bullet pointing my ideas out before writing my fics, and so far, it’s been helping me be more streamlined n get my things written out faster n clearer!

19. Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

Is the need for representation in all the niche movies I keep watching a muse?

20. Describe your perfect writing conditions.

In my dark room, w music blasting from my laptop, the TV w a soft hum, I have the perfect playlist to get the mood right, curled up in my blankies, n my plushie Sweet Pea by my side

21. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Zero, we rely on autocorrect & editing while typing and die like men

22. Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).

YOU DON’T SEEM SCARED.

Del Rio shrugs. “Working as a cop, it makes you numb to some things. It’s good, it lets you react to things as you should, and not how you’d want to.”

YOU SOUND SAD ABOUT THAT.

He makes a noncommittal noise. “It is what it is.” He eats another spoonful of his ice cream, then gets a thought.

“Can you show up?”

HOW SO?

“Can you,” he tries, waving his spoon around, “Manifest?”

I DON’T KNOW. I’LL TRY.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” Del Rio assures, and he can feel the air around him smile. The...world, he thinks, around him shifts just slightly, and there seems to be a chink in the armor for a moment before it goes away, as if someone had wiped the glass clear. He realizes that this is her, trying to show up in a physical form, step out of the phone.

He doesn’t know where to look, but then his confusion wanes when a butterfly shows up, fluttering towards him. It lands near his phone, skitters a bit, flaps its wings.

“Lucy?” he asks, transfixed on the butterfly. Its orange wings are bright under the sunlight.

I THOUGHT I’D TRY SMALL, FOR MY FIRST TRIAL.

“Well, you certainly nailed it.” He smiled warmly at the butterfly, and he had the crazy notion that it smiled back at him.

(adapted from The Policeman , the first fic I posted!)

23. If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

Yeah, probably The Policeman lmao, I remember it today n I cringe a little at the very obvious refs to other fandoms I made. Despite that, it continues being one of my best hits!

24. Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

Never

25. What do you look for in a beta?

I’m just thankful to have gotten a beta in general in life at all

26. Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

I beta’ed once, and since English is my 2nd language, I pointed out syntax confusion, typos, n continuity errors

27. How do you feel about collaborations?

Can be done, it’s just that I am frightened. Tried doing that, it fell thru, n the new thing that came up, I still have to hold up my end of the bargain ;;-;;

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

cries omg ok so!!! Chancy_Lurking ( @lurkerviolin ) is one of my faves, n we’ve become friends, n their Felix+ Sense8 series is the reason for it all, and u know it’s good if it managed to make a friendship that’s last its good while, and also they’re so nice, and we vibe so well!!! thegoatz ( @daniel-bryan ) is also now one of my bestest friends ever, and I wuv him so much, he is such a good kid, n he’s so enthusiastic about writing, and I hope that spark never goes out!!! And adamwhatareyouevendoing ( @skatingthinandice ) bcus she’s doing a rewrite of The Last Kingdom where it’s all gay where it should be and vnjkdfsnvkd God, what a wonderful friend!!!

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

I actually technically am working on a sequel to @rettaroo ‘s A New Kind of Touch ! Another promise I have to hold up eventually ;;;-;;;

30. Do you accept prompts?

Sure!

31. Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I try to follow canon as much as I possibly can!

32. How do you feel about smut?

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

33. How do you feel about crack?

Eh, it’s alright. I don’t normally look for it, so I don’t really have a solid opinion on it

34. What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

I don’t want to read it, but I have so far encountered it twice very amicably: once here in a ficlet, and another in a longer fic on AO3, and they were both very good

35. Would you ever kill off a canon character?

Probably not, I don’t like sad things!

36. Which is your favorite site to post fic?

AO3! I’m RedLlamas on it!

37. Talk about your current wips.

Lmao which one. The one I’m currently working on is an impregnation kink turned “oh no I actually do wanna have a family” feelings fic!

38. Talk about a review that made your day.

Gonna be real w u, the best comments I’ve gotten have mainly been from my friends, who either write a paragraph or two going into detail of the fic, or just send a one sentence comment that’s just “screams!” I’ve gotten very few paragraphs from other people, n they’re always so!!!

My friends are the realest :’)

39. Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

The perks of being a rarepair writer is that the only people who read my fics are the ones actively looking for content!!! And they can’t complain about my work because No One Else Is Writing For It!!!!!!

40. Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

All my fics are masterpieces, so I’ll do a summary change! For don’t you just know (exactly what they’re thinking?)

Dakota finds himself in unexpected heartbreak, and the universe decides to bring him in the direction of a night club with a dancer with stars on his skin.

#post #about #sbbookclub #writing be like

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elenatria · 5 years

Note

That moment in the 1x02 Chernobyl episode when Bryukhanov attacks Legasov because he can't tell how the reactor can explode, then mocks him, and Legasov is troubled, so Boris steps up and asks Bryukhanov about the graphite on the roof, and he's like "How dare you? Only I can yell at Valery. Am I clear?" And my heart bursted.

HHAHAHAHHA omg it never occurred to me to see it that way?? Brilliant. A want a ficlet on that scene.

You know what, it’s about time people got to know why this pairing is so hot and tragic and inspiring and and… And I mean I’m not crazy for shipping them, am I?? I mean ok ok “real people with tragic destinies” etc etc but but b-but the writer and the actors are doing SUCH a great job giving us the enemies-to-friends (or lovers) trope so effortlessly in a matter of, like, two episodes (btw I didn’t need two episodes, just the first time they met was enough for me to ship them hahah am I nuts or am I nuts).

Alright, SPOILERS.

So at the end of the first episode Boris Shcherbina, the head of the Bureau for Fuel and Energy (aka aggressive, unapologetic apparatchik and bureaucrat), is calling Valery Legasov, the first deputy director of the Kurchatov Institute of Atomic Energy (aka awkward nerdy idealist scientist), to bark some orders at him and essentially tell him “We don’t want your opinion, nerd, you’re here to answer questions, nothing more, kbye.” So at their very first contact Boris is rude, entitled and arrogant to Valery, even hanging up on him.

In the second episode Valery reads Boris’ report and freaks out. When he joins General Secretary Gorbachev’s committee, Boris tries to downplay the disaster, his arms sprawled out all over the armchair as if nothing happened. and looks at Valery in utter disbelief when the scientist tries to convince everyone how serious things are. Obviously Boris would rather be home with his wife or something. Btw in the show Valery doesn’t have a wife, he only has a cat, cat=loneliness, geddit?

When Gorbachev orders them both to visit the power plant Boris cannot believe his ears. He’s stuck with this annoying nerd, a scientist for crying out loud, a know-it-all, the kind he obviously hates because, as an apparatchik, he probably climbed the social ladder through his connections in the party and not through studying. So he obviously loathes anyone who knows more than him. He’s an alpha and wants to remain one.

Look at his face and body language when they’re left alone, he’s totally blaming the Nerd for becoming a burden. His burden.

Here it is, the “unlikely partners” trope.

And now things start to get interesting.

As they walk towards the helicopter Boris is totally ignoring Valery. They’re not exchanging a single glance.

In the helicopter Boris asks Valery how a nuclear reactor works. Valery finds it difficult to explain and Boris quickly shows how inferior he feels to anyone who has studied more than him, so he puts on his aggressive and arrogant facade.

He acts SO entitled that he even threatens Valery that he’ll have him killed if he doesn’t explain how the reactor works.

At this point Boris inspires nothing but fear and disgust.

HOWEVER when Valery fidgets his pockets trying to find something to write on Boris is quick to give him both a pen and a piece of paper. Even if he has his poker face on, his gesture is clear. He’s helping Valery for the first time and not just because he wants to learn about reactors.

When Boris quickly catches the metaphor of the neutron being like a “bullet” Valery seems startled. Apparently Boris is a good student, who would have thought!

But as soon as the explaining is over Boris shuts Valery out once more saying he doesn’t need him anymore. Entitled and arrogant af.

Now it’s Valery’s turn to seethe internally because he’s stuck with this total asshole.

Aaaaand then we get to the part when I totally flinched in surprise and I was like… “Okayyyyy do they want us to ship them now or what?…”

Because Valery, in a state of panic, finds the courage (or might I say, has the nerve) to call Boris by his first name (back then Soviet people would call each other by both names as a sign of respect). Valery probably mimicked Gorbachev using “Boris” in the previous scene but Boris simply. Won’t. Have it.

He instantly snaps at the unexpected intimacy and I’m over here fangirling like crazy because who else would snap at terms of endearment and intimacy but a man who’s not used to it - and is probably craving for it. But not from this carrot-headed Nerd. Definitely not from him, he loathes the guy, okay??

Boris exercises his power once more threatening to have the pilot shot if he doesn’t fly over the reactor and for the first time Valery manages to “outrank” him by explaining to the pilot why he’d rather be shot than fly over the reactor. Valery convinces the pilot to disobey Boris - power play at its best. Boris is clearly defeated, maybe he’s never been defeated before.

And this is the first time Boris touches Valery (hopefully not the last).

As the helicopter turns to avoid the reactor Valery trips and almost falls on Boris’ lap. Notice how Boris doesn’t push him away but he rather steadies him and helps him sit. For a man who loathes his partner and is not used to intimacy he’s rather… well-behaved.

Of course the look on his face when the scene ends says it all: “You’ll pay for this, nerd.”

We’re 25 minutes into the episode and we finally see a glint of doubt in Boris’ eyes when Chief Engineer Fomin and the plant’s director Bryukhanov mouth off to Valery, disrespecting him and questioning his expertise and patriotism. For some reason something clicks inside Boris. Maybe he too had dealt with too many people doubting him and treating him like shit in the past. Maybe he feels Valery, for all his obnoxiousness, doesn’t deserve that kind of behaviour. Maybe the proud Head of the Bureau for Fuel and Energy will lose face if his partner is disgraced. Another nanosecond of doubt and he decides to step up. He uses Valery’s observations to talk about the core exploding.

At first I thought “Oh goooood I can’t believe this asshole is ripping off Valery’s observations to act all clever in front of his inferiors. What an asshole.”

But it turns out that he’s siding with Valery and starts to trust his judgement and expertise. Maybe because, for all his lack of formal education, he’s too clever to not know suck ups, cowards and liars when he sees them.

Next he challenges the two men to prove Valery wrong. Perhaps he does want to prove Valery wrong and ridicule him. Or perhaps he’s rooting for him already.

When Valery pushes him to evacuate Pripyat, Boris snaps again. He’s not here to follow the Nerd’s orders.

But the very next minute Boris walks away with the promise to get Valery as much boron and sand as he needs to put out the fire, like a king eager to impress his betrothed. “I’m going to get YOU.”

As soon as Boris leaves, General Pikalov is quick to offer Valery some help.

Because they both know they have long days and long nights ahead of them.

I will come back to the subject of the hotel in my next post. There’s another fanfiction trope right there, two unlikely partners forced to stay in the same hotel (or hotel room if you want your imagination to run wild). YESSSS.

Cut to the hotel room. An exhausted Valery massages his own neck (oh baby I’m sure you would like someone else to massage it for you.)

Boris enters his room (*their* room..?) without knocking - apparently someone doesn’t feel the need to lock his door.

Boris is happy to announce they’ve been successful at dropping sand and boron into the reactor but Valery doesn’t share his cheerfulness.

AND THIS IS WHEN BORIS STARTS CARING ABOUT VALERY’S OPINION AND FEELINGS. The “what?” cliche when someone is not reacting while his friend/lover is begging for a response. Because. Boris. Needs. Valery’s. Approval. That’s why.

Valery insists that the city should be evacuated and Boris reassures him that they’re staying there “so it must be safe.”

But the way he utters those words in a hoarse whisper, shaking his head confidently, is almost like he’s saying “I’m glad we are staying here. Together.”

When Valery gets carried away and slaps Boris in the face with the horrible truth, Boris loses the ground beneath him.

But he doesn’t look just shocked. He looks hurt. Hurt that Valery didn’t sweeten the pill for him.

Valery instantly regrets his bluntness and takes a step towards Boris as if to comfort a helpless child. Or a very good friend. But he can’t really hug him, shush him and tell him everything is going to be okay, can he? So he takes a step back.

“I’m sorry”…? What?? You just met the guy and you hate him and he hates you! Get a grip!!!

Boris feels so horrible that it takes him ages to pick up the phone.

When they join Gorbachev’s committee again to brief him on the crisis Boris seems totally lost, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by Valery who stares at him, concerned.

When Boris finally comes to terms with his own mortality he steps up once more, taking control of the situation. Valery fails to convince the workers to go to the basement and open the valves and that moment… I just knew it was Boris’ turn for a glorious inspirational speech. And boy, does he deliver. Best, most laconic, most convincing inspirational speech I’ve ever seen. He appeals to the workers’ patriotism and self-sacrifice and he succeeds. So he’s not educated and he’s not as clever as a scientist but his true talent shines here, that of leadership. Inspiring people to do the right thing, like a true general. They’re at war and Boris knows he’s the man for the job.

And now it’s Valery’s turn to look at him in utter awe.

“That’s him. That’s my guy.”

And I haven’t even talked about episode 3 yet.

Oh god, ep 3, I mean…

#spoilers #chernobyl #jared harris #stellan skarsgard #valery legasov #boris shcherbina #valoris

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taki118 · 4 years

Text

Different Paths (A DA2 Personal Challenge) Varric & Isabela

Reposting some of my favorite ficlets from this on going writing challenge of my own making read the rest here

Isabela enjoyed a good hunt as much as she enjoyed a good duel. Not the boring sort where one trotted trough bug infested woods to follow after some dumb animal for hours. No her hunts were a dance of wits and seduction. A bedding just wasn’t as satisfying if there was no sport to it. She enjoyed playing the game as it meant revealing in her victory. But this was getting ridiculous.

Six years, six sodding years and Isabela had gotten nothing more than a passing flirtation from the dwarf. It was insulting is what it was. Varric knew the game she was playing and instead of letting her trap him or giving her the graces of stating she had the wrong weapons he merely played along.

It wasn’t fair, the first charming dwarf she ever met and he acted like he wasn’t interested. An act she saw through time and again when she caught him eyeing her many assets, and she knew for a fact long legs was not a trait she shared with dwarven girls. Only interested in dwarfs her pert ass.

Well no more. This was to be her final attempt, her last hurrah and she was going to get something out of this hunt one way or another.

“I challenge you to a game.” Isabela announced barging her way into his private rooms.

“No can do Rivani.” He laughed not once looking up from whatever it was he was writing, even as the table shook from her placing her feet on top. “I still haven’t recovered from the last one.”

“Ohhhhh but this isn’t a simple game of cards I’m challenging you to.” His quill stopped its scratching for a second before continuing. And so she lays the trap. “I came across it in Orlais, one of the few good things from that place.”

“And pray tell what is this game of yours?” Isabela smirked, he was taking the bait.

“It’s called The Game of Secrets.” His quill stops then, his head raising to meet her eyes.

“Alright I’ll bite. What’s this game entail?” He leaned back and she had him right where she wanted him.

“It’s very simple,” She began picking the dirt from under her nails, as though she could care less. “We each set a stack of five gold sovgiens, we go until one of us is left with nothing.” With a smirk she pulled a coin from her bodice placing it on the table. “I say something and you bet whether or not it’s a lie. You guess right you get a coin, guess wrong you loose one.”

“Ahhhh I see why you chose me for this game.” Varric began, his eyes twinkling deviously at the prospect of the game. “But shouldn’t it be called the game of liars?”

“Oh no see if I tell a truth and you think it a lie I get two coins.” She smirked moving her body gracefully to properly lean in. “Don’t you want to learn some of my secrets?”

“I already know your secrets.”

“Do you?”

The room was quiet save for the sounds from bar downstairs and the drumming of his fingers on the table. It was a mock of thought, a tell she’d found in their card games, he’d made his decision it was only a matter of admitting it.

“Alright Rivani you got yourself a game.”

It took them a few minutes to set the table, putting his papers and ink away and of course getting a few pints from the bar. What’s the point of a betting game if you’re sober?

“So who goes first?” Isabela smirked raising the tankard to her lips.

“Ladies first.”

“Aww what a gentleman.” She cooed mockingly only to be met with his mock of bow. She did so enjoy their repartee.

“Alright. I’ve never seen Hawke naked.” And the game began.

“Ok now that’s a lie.” He laughed only for the pirate to shake her head taking two of his coins. “What!? But I thought you two...”

“Oh we did.” She interrupted. “We just didn’t care enough to remove more than was needed.”

“Alright alright,” He chuckled trying to compose himself. “My turn. I once had a dwarven lord kick the shit out of me for something I wrote in a book.”

“Hmmmm,” she thought as she drank. “I’ll say truth.”

“That my dear was a lie.” With ease he took his coin back. “Though I did write a rather scathing piece about a dwarven lord I didn’t care for, he just never figured it out.”

“Too thick headed I assume.”

“Eh you change em to a human and most dwarves can’t tell. They can’t all be like me.”

“A pity really.” The bluntness of her words didn’t seem to strike him or if they did he was hiding it exceedingly well. Still this was her last attempt and being coy seemed to do her no favors.

“My turn. Isabela isn’t my birth name.“

“Truth. Isabela isn’t exactly a Rivani name.”

“That it isn’t.”

“So what was it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

And so the game continued for hours, coins being passed back and forth amongst the pair as well as lovely little tidbits to keep in the back of their minds. All while their many tankards emptied. The room was pleasantly warm and filled with laughter though Isabela was clearly besting Varric with her seven coins to his three but he didn’t seem to mind. Reveling in the secrets he’d learnt of her.

“Hmmmmm let me see....,” She drawled as she stretched in the chair, looking delightfully sinful. “I had sex with the Hero of Fereldan.” Varric only laughed taking two of her coins.

“It’s a truth. I’ve heard you spout that tale at least once a month at the Hanged Man.” He’d relaxed in his chair having removed his duster and gloves some time ago. “You’re slipping Rivani.”

“Maybe I slipped on purpose to extend our fun?” She purred enjoying seeing him so relaxed. His cheeks flushed at more than just the drink, she was getting to him.

“My mother was a lovely woman.” His attempt at changing the subject.

“That’s a lie.” Her hand reaching to take a coin only for him to smack her hand away playfully.

“It’s the truth she was a lovely woman.....to other people.” He smirked taking his two coins. Normally she’d praise him for his deviousness instead she pouted and patted her hand. The response was a laugh just as she’d expected. “Sorry I had to get rough with you.”

“Ohhhhh Varric I can think of much better ways you can be rough with me.” Hook, line and sinker just as he started to drink. As he coughed for dear life she continued. “In fact I have this ....”

“Mercy Isabela have mercy on this poor dwarf.”

“Aww well since you’ve asked nice. I’ve never had sex with a dwarf.” Isabela was hardly being subtle any more and Varric knew it. What he didn’t know was her angle.

“Lie.” He announced holding a hand for his coin.

“Fine you got me.” Not really she wanted him to call her. “But only because I didn’t specify.” Dropping the coin now putting him in the lead with eight. Not that winning this game was the goal of the night. “Had i said I’ve never slept with a male dwarf it’d be the truth.”

To her surprise, Varric made no comment only taking his coin. Well that was some wasted bait she thought annoyed.

“I’ve never slept with a non dwarf.” He smirked and her golden eyes gleamed.

“Lie!” She shouted proudly taking his coin.

“And just how do you know that?” She laughed at her victory, no doubt plotting to say it was the truth and ending their game.

“You have your contacts and I’m friends with nearly every worker at the Blooming Rose.” The look on his face, utterly surprised and embarrassed, if that was all she got from this it would be worth it. Why she’d commission a painting. “And you bought a lovely lady with legs for miles time a little more than six months ago.”

“Just take your coin and get on with it Rivani.” It was the closest she’d ever gotten to hearing him mad. A smart woman would drop it, but then Isabela was nothing if not bold.

“Awww Sore spot? Don’t beat yourself up Varric everyone gets lonely and there arent many dwarf girls in Kirkwall...” She’d meant to tease him, say how human women had their advantages and she’d be willing to demonstrate, but instead he spoke up.

“It’s not that she wasn’t a dwarf, it’s that she wasn’t....” His eyes drifted over to his crossbow for a moment and it told the rogue all she need know.

“I’ve had my heart broken.” She announced simply as though it were like anything else she’d said this night. He waited a moment trying desperately to figure out her game.

“.....Truth?” He asked unsure for the first time this night. Casually she tossed him two coins.

“I was surprised honestly. Wasn’t even sure at first but that’s what it was.”

“It was that elf right?” He asked watching her drink. “The antivan.” She nodded softly.

“You never forget your first I suppose, not really. Even if you didn’t realize it...” she sighed this was far more personal than intended but they way he was looking at her, like a good book he couldn’t predict, she wanted to keep it that way.

“My isabela he’d call me.” She sighed thumbs rubbing the rim of her tankard. “said it meant little beauty in Antiva. I loved the way it sounded coming from his lips, I never wanted to be called by anything else.” She expected a jest, maybe a ‘nothing little about you’ but nothing. He just continued to stared and said,

“Hmmm I thought it sounded Antivan.” She smirked glad for the levity.

“He left as quickly as he came but I wasn’t upset then not really. We’d meet up now and then and.....it was like no time had passed at all.” Varric smiles softly at her and it was only then Isabela realized she’d been smiling at the memories. “But then this time I felt like I was meeting a stranger. Zevran lived an entire life away from me and it changed him....that hurt me more than I thought. That the warden had known him better than me.”

Silence passed between them as Isabela pursed her lips forcing back any tears that might slip. That had never been her intent she hadn’t considered something like this could happen, alcohol didn’t normally make her mopey.

“Well that’s enough of that.” She announced her smile not reaching her eyes as Varric studied them. “Your turn. Almost got me beat.” He regarded her with a strange combination of sympathy and contemplation, It unnerved her in a wonderfully exhilarating way. Regardless how this all turned out this hunt was indeed enjoyable.

“Bianca is all the company I need.” To someone else his face was utterly neutral not a single tell, yet she read him like one of his books taking a coin. “Hey! You didn’t even ask.” She didn’t falter smoothly rising to her feet.

“That’s because it’s a trick question and you know it.” She smirked moving to his side of the table. “A sweet lie you tell yourself but why I’m afraid I don’t know.” With a hop she sat on the tables edge her thighs resting where his hand had. The hand he’d moved in hopes of using to hide the small blush that crept on his face, she noted with a smirk.

“How about this then, last one for all the coins.” She offered taking his tankard and knocking back what was left with ease. “You can choose to think of it as one statement or two.” He finally looked back at her confused about her words.

“Wouldn’t that mean you’d loose?” She just grinned wickedly at him.

“Oh I can still win depending on your answer.” With a flick of the wrist her two coins rested on the bare flesh of her thigh.

“So here it is, I am genuinely interested in you and I made up this game purely to entice you.” It was said simply and plainly without any flair or smolder yet the dwarfs jaw seemed to drop for a moment.

He thrummed his fingers in thought beside her thigh. Isabela couldn’t be sure what he was thinking. Doubt maybe? Guilt perhaps? Whatever it was it had him reeling and left her nervous. She’d laid herself bare here, figuratively which was so much worse than literally.

It felt as though hours had passed in silence until she felt a warm calloused hand on her thigh.

“Truth?” He asked sweetly trying to hide his embarrassment should he guess wrong.

She smiled, and tipped his chin up to say, “Truth.” Before leaning down and capturing her prize. Oh yes, Isabela did so enjoy a good hunt and she’d savor this one.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #varric tethras #dragon age isabela #da varric #da isabela #da fanfic #da fanfiction

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avenger-concerto · 5 years

Text

Operation Knight Song (RFSS2018)

Heya @invaderpig I’m your Secret Santa for 2018. I want to extend my deepest apologies for posting this so late. The Holidays got hectic as hell for me back in December along with other priorities coupled with post-Holiday slump. I managed to finish this ficlet though. I had a blast working on this one. I’ve never done Doug x Frey in any fan RF4 work so I hope I captured their dynamic finely.

Wishing you a late Happy Holidays and a Happy new Year! Once more, I would like to thank @runefactorysecretsanta for hosting this event. This is my third time in a row participating and I love how it brings the RF community together.

Title: Operation Knight Song

Genre(s): Slice of life, romance, fluff, comedy, some drama

Pairings / ships: Doug x Frey and Margaret / Meg x Forte

Rating: T (13 and up) - mild profanity, some innuendos / suggestive jokes but nothing extreme.

Summary: During the Night of Holies in Selphia, Doug and Frey help Forte confess to the love of her life in a group outing.

Word count: 3813 words.

It was the snowy and star-lit evening of Winter the 24th in the independent town of Selphia. More specifically, it was the eve which preceded Christmas day: the Night of Holies.

Usually, it was tradition for the natives of Norad and by extension Selphia to celebrate the evening in peaceful solace and tranquility. In addition, it was known as a night perfect for romantic rendezvous and evening dates. It was all the more true for the Night of Holies this particular year.

Within the grand halls of Selphia Castle, the princess and her first man hurriedly prepared for what the former codenamed as “Operation Knight Song”.

“Doug, we’re going to be late. C’mon you’re taking too long! They might have arrived at the plaza already…”

“Hold on, dear. Ngh, this jacket’s too huge! I have no idea what size Volkanon picked out but it’s taking me longer than usual to…”

“Ok, less complaining, more moving or we’re gonna be late. We don’t want to keep them waiting, right?”

“Wait dear, I’m finished!!”

In a frenzied but enthusiastic rush, Princess Frey’s husband: Doug, descended from the 2nd floor of their living area with a pair of black pants, brown snowboots and a crimson colored jacket. Despite his previous complaints, it turns out the jacket was just about the right size as shown through his satisfied grin.

“Well, how do I look?” the red-head dwarf asked between gasping breaths.

“You look fantastic!” Frey chirped with a smiled as she clapped her hands together. “What do you think of mine now? Dolce and Clorica helped pick this out for me the other day. We had it custom tailored and ordered from Norad’s capital.”

Doug took another look at his wife’s snow-friendly attire which consisted of a beautiful black coat accompanied by an emerald coloured Wooly fur snow cap with both pieces complimented by an illustrious snow white scarf. For the evening, Frey had also undid her twin-tails, letting her long and beautiful emerald hair down.

“Stunning, I dunno what else to say.” Doug widened his eyes while his lips formed what could easily be described as a dreamy yet flustered smile.

“Hoooooh? Flirting this early on in the Night of Holies?” Frey snickered as she motion towards her husband, clinging onto his arm playfully. “I guess you are desperate for a spot within Santa’s Naughty List.”

“Gahhh, cut it out!” Doug yelped, his objections contradicting his now reddened cheeks. “N-not that I mind but not this early either, h-haha…”

“This blockhead,” Frey whimsically thought, “Wonder how we’re gonna have kids at this rate?”

Doug spoke, “So uh, what about Ventuswill?”

“She’s fast asleep.” she informed her husband, “I had Clorica and Vishnal prepare her a cup of hot milk and a serving of pancakes. Venti wanted to go to bed early so she wouldn’t wake up late and miss the Christmas festivities.”

“Alright! Now that’s all settled…Let’s head out then, shall we?” Doug smiled coolly, extending his hand out.

Frey giggled slightly as she took her husband by the hand. “Of course. As the high princess of Selphia, Operation Knight Song will not fail!”

For the sake of some yuletide context in this given Night of Holies and by extension “Operation Knight Song”, it is commonly well known in Selphia that there were two individuals who helped push the princess together with the hotheaded dwarf shopkeep of the general store. The honour went to none other than Margaret or by her nickname: Meg, the gentle elf musician of Porcoline’s Kitchen and Forte, the dashing and valiant head knight of the town.

Meg acted as a wingwoman of sorts to her close friend Frey and it was Forte who was always there to convince Doug to get his act together when it mattered the most. They’ve both remained strong family friends to Selphia’s royal couple ever since.

Of course, there is much more to this story and Frey herself knew it very well. Throughout this all Meg and Forte remained close friends. Relegating the overall feeling to “friendship” was a massive underestimation, so to speak. In reality…

“Forte, Meg! We’re here!” Frey excitingly called out as she and her husband approached the two figures waiting outside on the snowy centre of Selphia plaza.

“Good evening you two!” Margaret waved her hand and approached the couple, giving Frey an affectionate hug afterwards. “Ohmigosh, you both look so adorable!”

“Awwwww, thank you!” Frey squeed in delight. “You’re looking stylish too Meg. Same goes to you, Forte!”

“N-no, I’m not in need for any compliment whatsoever…” the blonde and tall knight mumbled. “I just put on a new cape that Kiel bought me. If anything, Meg looks so much better.”

Margaret wore her usual outfit but this time adorned with an azure mantle cloak, a kind of fashion that was common in the Nation of Elves as well as a checkered scarf which Forte had given her as a birthday present earlier in the year.

Forte had her usual armour equipped with additional protection from the winter evening including the aforementioned new cape which her younger brother had given her as a present. Outing or not, a knight had to remain prepared for anything. Whether it would be against monsters, immediate threats…or confessing to the love of her life.

“Great, then we’re all gearing to go.” Frey raised her fist into the air. “Onward to the observatory!”

“Hey, be careful or you’re going to trip!” Doug called out as his energetic spouse went on ahead. “Honestly, some things never change…”

“You seem rather excited yourself.” Forte commented with a half-smile on her face. “Not as enthusiastic as Frey but still.”

“Yeah, yeah yeah…So, you’re ready for this?” the dwarf gazed at the knight whose cheeks became flushed with pink not soon after. “I mean, you can do it any other time of the year but if you want to leave a lasting impression, it’s now or never.”

“Um, I know that!” Forte answered with a determined voice.

“What do you know exactly, Forte?” Meg curiously tapped her on the shoulders, resulting in a brief but alarmed shriek.

“M-MEG?! UHHH NOTHING!! WE WERE TALKING ABOUT ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! Just about how we should enjoy the Night of Holies b-because it only comes once a year. Yeah, it’s like that.”

“Well, best we get a move on. The snow might stop at any moment and I want to bask in this blissful scenery as much as possible. I saw Frey rush past your house already.” Meg stated while pointing to the western-most exit of the plaza.

“R-right…” Forte nodded as she followed Margaret down the steps leading to the town’s western residential district.

Doug was left alone in his thoughts for the time being. “Man, I know Frey wants to thank them for everything they’ve done for both of us but…this is something out of a romcom novel that Granny Blossom keeps inside her old shelves.”

Frey’s eccentrically named plan, “Operation Knight Song” had one and only one singular goal: successfully get Forte to ask Meg out. This wasn’t anything platonic or familial either.

Another piece of information that was common to most of the town’s inner circle was that Forte being madly in love for Selphia’s star musician, Margaret.

As a knight, romance or intimacy was not within her scope of immediate prioritization. Those never crossed her mind as much as it did for the other girls in town especially during their seasonal sleep over gatherings.

Yet Margaret came into Forte’s life and ever since then her existence alone did just about everything to question the knight’s supposed heterosexuality.

There are numerous reasons as to how the elven musician had stolen the knight’s heart but even then she couldn’t list all of them properly without breaking down into an awkward, stuttering and anxious mess. Meg was resourceful, hardworking, beautiful, compassionate, charismatic, somewhat of a dorky odd-ball, both shared some latent fear of phantoms (Pico was the prime exception) and Forte’s mental list could go on and on.

Forte was content simply just remaining close friends with the musician but as the months and years went by it became clear that she couldn’t deny her own feelings any further.

It started out with simpler things such as her regular compliments towards Meg becoming more frequent in nature. It was followed with other small instances such as their hands brushing against each other by accident on several occasions or noticing the aromatic scent of her hair on a more regular basis. Afterwards, it all escalated to much greater physical contact such as sitting awkwardly as Meg fell asleep next to her on the bench during one late afternoon after work.

It reached an apex when the musician casually kiss the knight on the cheek during her birthday. All Frey and Doug could recall was that Forte was reduced to a stuttering, flustered mess that same day.

A few weeks later, the knight confided with the royal couple that she could no longer deny the feelings she’s harboured for Meg and declared her resolved intention to confess.

Needless to say, Frey 100% supported the proposition alongside her husband, even if the latter wasn’t too enthusiastic about lowkey stalking their Night of Holies date in the guise of a group outing.

Doug sighed and hurried to catch up with the rest of the group. Even if he wanted to, it was too late to turn back now.

Within the top floor of the windmill observatory’s interior, Doug had finally caught up as his wife handed out the hot beverages and snacks she had prepared for them all prior to leaving.

“I brought along some hot cocoa and choco cookies.” Frey pulled out four heated thermos containers and a plate of chocolate chip-cookies from her picnic basket. “I have a few bottles of Prelude to Love in here too that I brewed up during these past few days if you’d like some later tonight Meg.”

“That would be lovely, thanks!” Meg cheerfully replied.

“Doug and I are gonna go head down now.” Frey announced suddenly, “Oops, you see…uhhh…turns out I forgot a few extra cloaks and blankets, incase for when it gets colder tonight…Y-yeah.”

“Wait, we just got up here!” Doug stuttered in an alarmed fashion. “Also, I brought us some blankets and cloaks in my bag…AGH.”

Frey interrupted her husband’s objections by playfully pinching him on his bottom. He played along as a result. “Uhhh, I mean yeah. I totally forgot them. H-haha, oops.”

“We’ll be right back in a jiffy, ok? I left the hot drinks and cookies near the benches next to the outer entry. Help yourselves!” Frey playfully declared as she and Doug descended down the stairs.

Forte sighed. She knew very well that the entire thing was a copout ruse to make sure she and Meg were alone. She appreciated the sentiment but wished as well that the couple didn’t have to sacrifice a part of their romantic evening to help her confess the feelings she’s held for so long towards the beautiful elven musician who stood nearby.

“Ahem. Ummm, mind if we step outside? I want to take a good look at view right now.” Forte somewhat nervously proposed.

“Hmm? Sure thing. The snowy evening view probably goes great with the hot cocoa.”

“So easily. What about your fear of heights, Meg?”

Meg giggled lightly and responded, “Why would I be worried about that? Especially when I have you by my side?”

Forte couldn’t help but melt internally and smile at the sentiment. She extended her arm out towards Meg, offering her hand. “Well then, shall we?”

“Wowwww!!” Meg gasped in delight. As they walked into the exterior viewing balcony of the observatory, the sight of a tranquil snowy evening glittered with the night sky’s stars awaited them both. “I’ve been to this observatory countless of times but the view’s always amazing…”

“And to think you were afraid of coming here, let alone of setting foot into the observatory’s top floor because of your fear of heights…” Forte teased slightly and continued. “…I’m glad you’re enjoying the view these days.”

“Uh huh…” Meg nodded enthusiastically while she opened up her drink. Taking a light sip, she sighed happily. “Ahhh, this is heaven. I’m not big of a chocolate lover as much as Dolce but this alongside he winter evening is pure utter bliss…”

“Indeed,” Forte agreed, taking small sips of her hot cocoa while her gaze was transfixed between both the view and at Meg herself. “This reminds me of my childhood…Our parents always used to make us hot cocoa on winter evenings. My mother was practically a master at the craft and it was one of the many things that warmed our father up after his snowy evening patrols…”

“Forte…”

“They’re both gone now. However, what isn’t are the memories they left behind for Kiel and I. For that reason…I want to keep living on, protecting those I hold dear and…well, continue to make even happier memories with the people I care for.” Forte uttered the last part out with a faint blush.

“Awwwww, that’s so sweet…” Margaret softly said, hugging the knight from the side. The surprise was almost enough to let her drop the hot cocoa she had been handling finely.

“EEEEEK!! M-meg…please.” Forte staggered, “I could have spilled something hot on either of us… be more careful…”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” she laughed gingerly, breaking the hug. “I really am happy though…to be here. Happy to be with you all…that’s all.”

“Hmmm? Is something the matter?”

“Well, just that…When I first came to Selphia, truth to be told: I was afraid. Porcoline had recently taken me under his wing at the time…I knew nobody in town. I wasn’t sure if I could open my heart up so easily. Especially somewhere so far away from home…Then I met you, Lumie, Venti, Dylas, Arthur, Frey and everyone…I fell in love with this town soon afterwards. It’s far from my birthplace but…Selphia’s my home. I wouldn’t have it any other way and…I’m just so thankful to be here with you all.”

“Meg…”

Meg sighed trying to shake away what was a bittersweet smile on her lips just moments ago, “…Sorry, I got over sentimental again. Winter evenings like this remind me of my homeland a bit, I couldn’t help it. Anyways, why don’t I play us a song?”

Now was the time, Forte realized.

“Uhhh Meg…look…I…there’s something I need to…uh, well…”

“Huh? You want me to play a Christmas song? Ok, I’ll think…Silent Night or Jingle Bells…I want to see how it works on my harp…”

“No, that’s not it, I wanted to say that…um…”

“Wait, neither of those songs? Well, I’ll just play us Joy to the World and…”

Forte bit her lip in frustration. Her thoughts raced insanely as her heartbeat rose sharply. “Forte, it’s now or never.”

“I got it! I’ll go play us Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, that was a classic my old teacher taught me…”

“Meg, please listen to me: I love you.”

“...Huh?”

As the knight uttered those very words from her lips, it’s almost as if time itself had stopped in its tracks that winter-clad evening. Meg’s expression went from that of her usually cheerful eccentric one to that of pure speechlessness.

“I don’t mean as a friend or as a sister. Meg…look, I love you as a woman. Romantically. You’re caring, knowledgable, talented, compassionate, empowering, warm and just pleasant to be around everyday. My chest has been racing as of lately just being next to you…I don’t know what else to say…”

“Forte…is this true?” Meg blinked while a tint of red began slowly surfacing from her own cheeks.

“Yes, it’s all true. I was scared prior to this…We’re both girls and I have no idea how your culture does it…hell, I’m not even sure how my parents would react if they could see this but I don’t care! As a knight of Ventuswill and all of Selphia, I’m not going to hold my feelings back in front of the woman I love, damn it!”

Once more, Forte was met with a silent and blank response from the musician. Fearing it amounted to nothing but a potential awkward rejection, she steeled herself for what was next. She walked into this knowing that heartbreak might be a viable outcome but she would rather have professed her feelings than hold her silence forever.

“I’m sorry…who was I kidding. Just pretend I said nothing, please…Regardless, I want us to remain friends and…”

“You idiot…” Meg gritted her teeth, glaring with tears in her eyes.

Forte wasn’t given much room to react as Meg tightly embraced her as if it would be their last.

“M-meg…?!”

“Honestly…you blockhead…” she sniffled, keeping her arms wrapped around the knight tightly. “Took you long enough…! I’m so happy…I’m so glad you feel the same way…”

“Feel the same way…y-you…you mean…?”

“Yes…but…I’m afraid too. Not because we’re both girls. I don’t care about that at all…it’s because I’m an elf. You’re human.”

“What if you are an elf? I care nothing about that. I know there are places in Norad that ostracize your people but I’m not…”

“It’s not that!” Meg cried out as she continued to cling onto Forte. She blinked through her tears and continued, “It’s much more complicated. You know that elves live longer than humans do. What if you go before me…? You’re a knight…You’ve already pledged your life to the sword. Your line of work makes it so that you’re ready for death at any given moment. If you die before me and I have to live out the remainder of my existence in this world without you…I…”

“Meg…” Forte whispered, “You’re not wrong. I’ve devoted my life to the path of the sword. The sword is nothing more than an extension to my real devotion: those who I care for. You included most of all. You’re right…maybe I could fall in battle or I might succumb to illness, who knows what the future has in store but…I’d rather face those dangers while protecting and loving you…”

“Forte…”

“I know we have to go slow of course…I-if you say yes, that is!” Forte stammered but regained her verbal composure right after. “Going moderately is the key but my feelings for you are genuine…Meg…I want to be your knight and dedicate my sword to you. B-by that…I want to be your girlfriend. W-well…?”

It wasn’t too long after that the musician’s anxious tears were immediately replaced with tearful giggles as she broke her embrace. “Honestly, do all knights have to confess like this? I don’t even want to know what the marriage proposal would be like…!”

“H-hey, I was being serious…”

“I know, Forte. I know very well…Therefore, my answer is: I accept!” Meg spoke out the last part with a cheerful grin as she wiped the last of her tears away.

“Huh?! Meg, are you sure about this?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Not going to lie: I’m still anxious…I have no idea what awaits us but…with my brave and dashing girlfriend by my side, I have nothing to fear.”

“Meg…ugh…I…” Forte attempted to choke back a sob as tears welled up her own eyes. She stepped forward and gave her beloved a firm embrace. She sobbed softly between sniffles and hiccups, “Ngh…I’m so happy…I was afraid that…ugh…Meg…I love you! I love you so much!”

Reciprocating the embrace, Meg giggled softly as she comforted the sobbing knight. “You big dork…I love you too…don’t panic. Even if I said no, I wasn’t going to leave you behind either…You’re precious to me no matter what…”

“Sorry…I shouldn’t have lost my composure like that. It was unknightly of me, so to speak.” Forte calmed down as Meg wiped her tears away.

“I dunno, I have absolutely no problems seeing this side of you either.” Meg playfully teased.

“Hey!! Ugh…you’ve always been unpredictable at times, you know that?”

“Maybe. Maybe not…I wanna do something else unpredictable, of course.”

Forte swallowed a lump as her heart raced once more. “Well, what would that be?”

Kiss.

Eyes still widened, Forte stared blankly as Meg’s lips parted from hers in a quick but blissful instant. “Merry Christmas Forte. I love you.”

“Ah.” Forte said aloud and continued. “Ah. Ah. Ahhhhh.”

Thud.

“Oh my gosh, Forte!!” Meg cried out in horror as she witnessed her newly confessed girlfriend dropping to her knees. She immediately knelt down herself cradled the flustered knight around her arms. “Are you okay?! Do you have a fever?! Are you tired?!”

Meg was all the more puzzled as she witnessed Forte’s unconscious but dreamy eyed and flustered expression. It was as if she had gone to heaven and ascended into a higher plane of goddesshood.

“Honestly…I need to get us both inside ASAP. Can’t have my girlfriend fainting outside here.”

Unbeknownst to either of them, the royal couple stood quietly in wait within the observatory’s interior in a floor below.

“Fufufufu…looks like Operation Knight Song was a grand success.” Frey sheepishly giggled. “Mission accomplished!”

“Uhhhhh…We did absolutely nothing besides eavesdrop.” Doug informed in a deadpan tone.

“C’mon, dear. We promised to be backup for Forte incase she froze up but looks like she didn’t need our help. That’s my Forte, haha…”

“Well, I’m happy for them both. That much I’ll say. I think we need to go up there before Forte freaks out any further.” Doug proposed but his intentions were interrupted by the mischievous princess holding up a mistletoe over both their heads.

“Oh hell no. Dear, please. Not now…w-wait until home at least!!” the fiery red-head dwarf took a step back, panicking.

“Awwwww, don’t be like that.” Frey licked her lips. “It’s almost midnight. Besides, I want to give Forte and Meg some time to themselves while I have my own little fun…”

Doug swallowed hard, laughing nervously. He had no intention of denying his playful wife’s advances but he braced himself for what came next. This of course consisted of Frey pouncing on her husband and showering him with cuddles and a flurry of kisses over his face and neck.

Overall, it was just another snowy, heated, chaotic but romantic Night of Holies in Selphia.

#rfss2018 #rune factory 4 #rf4 #rf4 frey #rf4 doug #rf4 margaret #rf4 forte #frey x doug #meg x forte #yuri #femslash #avenger concerto writing

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timeywimeygalaxy · 6 years

Text

Pump those breaks!

Summary- This is a like a small ficlet based on this post by @ethospathoslogan (i hope you don’t mind me tagging you in this! >.<)

Pairings: Platonic LAMP, though hints at Logince at the end.

Warnings: Fluff?, Deceit is in this too not in a bad way though!

A/N: I tried... I really wanted to write this when I saw it I tried to write it as a comedic piece, I’m still a bit rusty with my writing skills after like years of not doing it so I hope y’all like it! ^.^

Grabbing his car keys and heading out the door, Thomas stopped in his tracks at seeing Roman and Virgil squabbling over who got the front seat.

“It’s my turn princey! You had it last time!”

“But you kept kicking the back of my seat, so it didn’t count!”

They were getting rough with each other trying to drag the other back from the car door handle.

Not again. Thomas sighed to himself

“Guys c’mon!” Thomas’s sudden voice made both sides stop and stare at him wide-eyed, he had to admit he held back a giggle at the picture before him, both Virgil and Roman had each other in a headlock ready to throw the other down to the ground.

“Look you two, place nice!” Thomas looked between them both ”Virgil’s right Roman you called shot gun last time so it’s his turn now and no kicking the chair” he held a finger to both of them giving them a stern look before walking around the other side of the car, once he was gone from there line of vision Virgil grinned and stuck his tongue out at the creative side who shoved him with his hip, Virgil shoved back but before another scuffle could break out Thomas’s voice cut through the air again “don’t start! you going to get in?”

Glaring at each other they both obliged their host.

---

Driving down the highway, Thomas glanced at his mirror to see Patton and Logan pop into view clipping their seatbelts in the back “yay! A family road trip!” the fatherly trait clapped his hands eagerly Thomas grinned at him from the mirror and pressed a button causing the windows to roll down letting in a soft breeze, as a silence fell between them all for a few minutes they all just looked out the window enjoying the scenery passing them by, after about half hour of this though

“We need some tunes it’s too quiet!” Roman whined leaning over Logan who tried to back up he held his hand up trying to push Roman back from being his personal space invader, over the noise Thomas could hear Patton “Sit down kiddo! Safety first!” whilst glancing in the mirror he could see his morality trying to pull Roman back down, but Roman fought against him as he tried to connect his phone’s aux lead to the car stereo whilst accidentally bumping Thomas’s gear stick arm.

“Ooh sorry,” he said with not much of an apologetic tone

“Roman! Sit down!” Thomas scolded trying to keep his eyes on the road whilst also dealing with what was happening beside him.

“Sit down, back to your corner princey!” Virgil twisted around and gave a mischievous grin clearly still smug about getting the front seat, Roman glared at him as Logan’s hands wrapped around the creative’s side shoulders finally pulling him back, he fell back into his seat as Logan pulled his seatbelt over and clipped him back in securely.

---

“What you got there lo?” Patton asked looking at Logan’s hands curiously, he blushed slightly as he slowly opened his hands to reveal a jar of crofters, Roman’s eyes grew wide “you bought crofters!”

“Hey, be careful with food in the car please” Thomas reminded them.

“I will be careful Thomas I promise” Logan replied taking out a spoon from his pocket.

“Dude you’re just going to- “ Virgil started but his question was already answered when Logan spooned a huge bite of the jelly into his mouth

“Oh, okay yep guess you are” the anxious side rolled his eyes and put his headphones on slouching down into his seat again.

“Say Logan, you got a second spoon in there by any chance” Roman asked smiling at the jar the logical trait was now holding quite protectively as he shovelled the blueberry jelly into his mouth making some inhumane noises that Patton shuffled away slightly looking a bit worried at his fellow side, “no” Logan hiccupped.

Virgil glanced over at Thomas whose hands were starting to grip the steering wheel tightly.

“Could I maybe have like a tiny…bit?” Roman inquired leaning towards the jar in Logan’s hand he clutched it to his chest protectively “if you wanted jelly you should have bought your own Roman” he said this not breaking eye contact with him whilst eating another spoonful, Logan was now easing away from Roman as much as he could not see that he was squishing Patton further into the window.

“uh Logan-“ Patton breathed

“Play nice guys” Thomas’s breath hitched, his grip on the wheel tightening as he looked over at Virgil who was now watching the scene unfold.

“Please specs? C’mon isn’t sharing caring…or something like that” Roman whined as he reached for the jar sitting tightly in Logan’s hand he moved the jar further from Roman’s reach, his seat belt, unfortunately, restricting his movements now pretty much squishing Patton completely in the tiny area of space he had left, Logan was now holding the jar above his head as Roman was reaching for it almost crushing all three sides in the process.

“Get your own!” Logan yelled

“But it’s just a spoonful!” Roman

Thomas’s grip tightened.

“Hey get off me!” Patton squeaked under Logan’s body weight as each of them was now kicking as multiple limbs were now flailing around the car still being restricted by the seat belts the were tethered under.

“Please calm down all of you!” Thomas tried to shout above the ruckus that was going down in the back seat of his car.

“Thomas tell him to get off my crofters!” Logan wailed

“Thomas tell him to share!” Roman retorted

“Stop kicking my chair!” Virgil screamed back twisting around to face the others to see Patton under Logan’s back and Roman leaning over both trying to reach for the jar that now Logan was extremely close to spilling.

Is this what a stress headache felt like? Thomas wondered to himself with his patience wearing extremely thin.

“Pat- no virg- Lo-“ He was growing more frustrated, why did he have so many sides!

“Guys! Seriously you need to pump the breaks!” he gave up remembering their names at this point, his knuckles were white now.

They weren’t listening to him.

Hearing everyone’s voices shouting over each other he finally snapped.

“I WILL TURN THIS CAR AROUND IF YOU FOUR DON’T STOP NOW!” Thomas shouted his voice breaking slightly.

Silence fell between them all instantly for a moment before a small ‘pop’ was heard in the car.

“Well isn’t this nice” a silky voice came from the back seat as all five of them started screaming in unison, the car skidded slightly as Thomas manoeuvred his rear view mirror to see Deceit who was dramatically draping himself over the three sides sitting in the back, lying over all of them his head on Roman’s lap and his legs on Patton’s lap, he was clearly enjoying the chaos that was ensuing around him of screams and sudden movements as Roman and Logan’s bodies fought against seat belts, the car screeched to a sudden halt sending deceit tumbling to the floor and all of them lurching forward in their seats.

As the dust settled outside the car, everyone was silent for a few moments in shock.

“Is everyone ok?” Patton looked around with a face full of concern adjusting his glasses that had fallen during the sudden stop, he helped Deceit up and propped him on his lap as he hissed at Roman who glared at him, donning a smug expression he cuddled into the fatherly trait a slight blush creeping up his scales.

“Guys you need to learn to not do stuff like this especially when I’m driving!” Thomas sighed running his hand through his hair exasperated at the sides whom he loved so, an awkward silence fell between all of them, the sides all glanced at each other sharing the same expression. guilt.

“We- we’re sorry Thomas, we know we can be too much sometimes and we need to be more aware of how we make you feel” Roman said regally that Virgil looked slightly surprised but the others nodded along even Deceit as they all agreed, Thomas nodded and smiled “thank you, you all need to look after each other as well” he looked at Deceit when saying this who gave a half smile in response and buried his face further into Patton’s chest, Thomas gave them all a smile at them understanding, they all sat staring at each other for a moment taking in Thomas’s words before he finally spoke again “okay now that that’s settled shall we get on our way?” there were murmurs of agreement as he started the engine up again and pulled away.

On the road again it was unbearably silent once more, Deceit left since he wasn’t needed anymore also there wasn’t really a safe seat for him in the car Thomas glanced in the mirror to see Roman looking very solemn, head leaning on his hand gazing out the window, Thomas nudged Virgil and nodded towards the stereo, Virgil understood grabbing the aux lead he connected it to Thomas’s phone and “under the sea” from the little mermaid blared out through the speakers, he saw that all of them perked up upon hearing some good old Disney and once Thomas started belting out some of it himself they all soon joined in.

---

Arriving at their destination, Thomas turned off the engine as Virgil silently nudged him and nodded to the back seat, looking around he had to stop himself and Patton from squealing “Awwh!” out loud they both beamed upon seeing Roman and Logan sleeping soundly, Logan’s head leaning on Roman’s shoulder as Roman’s head fitted neatly on top of the logical trait’s, his glasses askew and slipped slightly down his nose, Logan’s mouth was hanging open slightly still stained by the Crofters jam he had eaten as Roman’s held a small smile, Virgil quietly got out his camera and took a picture of the two of them to show them and tease them later.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts fic #ts fanfiction #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #tw deceit #roadtrip #Sanderssidesfic #lamp #calm #platonic lamp

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nosecrinklewrites · 6 years

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first lines game

RULES: List the first lines of the last ten stories you published.

Look to see if there are any patterns that you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any! Then tag some friends.

I was tagged by @nofootprintsinsalt

→

#1 – The day had been as long as they ever were. Hux pulled his keys from the pocket of his coat while approaching the door to his flat. As the lock clicked, a peculiar feeling settled at the base of his spine. (Shelter)

#2 – ”Mr. Hux?” (ficlet)

#3 – ”You’re not supposed to tuck in your thumb.” (ficlet/wip)

#4 – They had danced around each other for ages. Everything they did was painfully slow. When they finally began interacting, Kylo was elated. They spoke more and more often. Hux finally agreed to go on a date. (Dye)

#5 – Hux had begged his father to postpone the move. Hux had never, in his 18 years of life, begged his father for anything. (wip)

#6 – ”Steve? Do I know how to knit?” (Blue)

#7 – Posture bad as ever, Kylo was bent over the counter, pen clutched between his fingers, checking the contents of a package with the delivery note, making sure nothing was missing from the order. He had no awareness of the space around him, the sounds of customers and colleagues alike fading into a hum at the edge of his consciousness. (Human Disaster Kylo (tumblr))

#8 – Kylo came to slowly. He blinked owlishly at the ceiling, the fluorescent lights doing a number on his already pounding head. (cantina fill)

→

ok, so a couple of things; the first line is always the hardest for me. i know it often sets the tone for the rest of the piece, so i'm always freaking out over it. the first line/paragraph is usually the part that i edit the most. most of the time, i write a big chunk of the fic, before i go back and write the opening lines.

having the lines listed like this – i didn't notice that i use dialogue as an opener as often as i do. it does make sense though, because i love when you watch a film and the first few seconds is a blank screen with someone speaking, whether that's a narrator or a character speaking.

the final thing i wanna touch on, is that they're all kylux, except for #6. i don't know if i'm happy about this or not. kylux is one of my absolute favorite pairings, so i'm happy that they're there, but it doesn't really show how many pairings i actually i like and write for. i'm a bit sad about it, because i have a lot of stories with a lot of different pairings that i would love to share, but i haven't been able to finish anything for a while. (i have close to no confidence in my writing and feel the need to apoligize all the time; everytime i get a positive comment/tag, i'm reduced to tears - mental illness is real, y'all.)

(i haven't published 10 fics, so you're getting 8 (only 5 of them are "proper" fics, if you wanna get technical))

i don’t know who to tag, so if you wanna do this, you can list me as the one who tagged you ♡

#i was tagged #i need a tagging system #uhhh #nofootprintsinsalt #thank you for tagging me!#anyone who has ever given me positive feedback is a fucking saint #or talked to me in general #i didn't plan on letting my personality show but here we are #god i hope i don't regret this

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im-the-king-of-the-ocean · 6 years

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Presenting a story I kinda want to write when I don’t have like a billion other stories to write

Or that time I put all the pieces I have for a Barbara and Nomura get married scenario together in one massive story au thingy.

Based off/combining the Paris ficlets where, in an au Diana Prince (Wonder Woman) is an old friend of Nomura’s and the Luck post/ficlet I shared last night, which goes over my headcanon for a Barbara & Nomura marriage.

So in an au where Gunmar is defeated but Trollmarket is still intact, Nomura and Barbara get together and eventually decide to get married.

They do it basically 2 separate times. Once in Arcadia’s courthouse to satisfy human customs and once in Trollmarket. The Trollmarket wedding is more of a big celebration and the courthouse is smaller, more private (few people are invited to it - this is going to be like super important in a second) event.

So Diana Prince (Wonder Woman) is an old friend of Nomura’s, who wants to congratulate Nomura, celebrate with her, etc. except bc she’s not a part of the Arcadia crew she’s not invited to the wedding itself. This kinda ticks her off, but she shrugs it off and instead gives Barbara and Nomura a fully-paid vacation to Paris for their honeymoon (on the condition they come visit her at the Louvre).

Barbara and Nomura accept the gift so Diana calls in a favor with Bruce Wayne to have them flown overseas in his personal, private (super luxury) jet.

For literally no reason at all other than I like him Alfred is on the jet with them (to make sure nothing goes wrong I guess with the whole “complete strangers on the private jet and one of them technically could have counted as a villain at some point” thing).

Alternatively Bruce is just like fuck it and flies them to Paris in some kind of Bat Plane thing while also dressed up as Batman.

Either way Barbara is confused as shit and Nomura just rolls with it cause she once knew everyone.

An idea I’ve had at the back of my head for a while is that during this whole honeymoon thing, Barbara and Nomura get kidnapped for ransom by Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, who are trying to either steal from a) Bruce Wayne b) the Louvre (ok honestly if I go with this thing it will probs be option b, dont know how that works with the ransom part but whatever).

Anyway, Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn figure out that Barbara and Nomura are just trying to enjoy their honeymoon and try to make up the whole kidnapping thing by taking them out for a girls night type deal thingy.

So Nomura and Barbara have a girls night out with Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn and it’s actually kind of fun for all of them.

The next morning they get breakfast/lunch with Diana, but something happens and Diana has to reveal herself as Wonder Woman and Nomura and Barbara have to help stop a crime (maybe committed by Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, that could be a fun connection).

So there’s a whole episode where no one expects Nomura or Barbara to be able to fight (cause who the fuck are they anyway) and then Nomura shifts to her troll self and kicks ass and Barbara by now has training or something (or she just finds a random functional blender) and kicks ass too.

so that happens.

anyway after all this Barbara and Nomura are able to have a relaxing honeymoon in Paris

but Barbara texts Jim at some point he believes absolutely none of her telling of her Weird Paris Adventures cause what the actual fuck mom are you sure you met a bunch of superheroes

so yeah I kinda wanna write this mess at some point when I don’t have like a lot of different stories to do stuff write like edit and write and stuff you know

#trollhunters #barbara x nomura #harley quinn and poison ivy #diana prince #lots of sapphic-ness going on in paris #crossover au #marriage au #barbmura

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starchasertonight · 6 years

Note

What if when kadena met Kat was out and Adena wasn't in the relationship.

i honestly meant to just ficlet this but then an accidental 2k word fic happened. so…there’s that. this is an AU.

—

“Remind me why we’re going to this art show thing, again?”Jane asks as they all turn the corner, approaching the Brooklyn gallery.

“’Cause Sutton’s hot hipster guy mentioned he’d be there.”

“Ok, can we please stop calling him hot hipster guy? He’snot that hipster, and his name isBrian.”

“But why exactly are wegoing?” Jane persists, gesturing between Kat and herself.

“So it doesn’t look like she’s going just for him. Suttonsaid she’d be there like she already had plans too,” Kat says with a laugh,nudging Sutton with her elbow.

“We’re not hipster Brooklyn people.”

“You are tonight!” Sutton says, flashing her best smile andJane rolls her eyes while Kat keeps laughing. “Please? For me?” she adds toJane.

“Bet there’s gonna besome artsy queer girls here. There always are at these things,” Kat muses outloud, and Sutton turns on her, eyes narrowed.

“I knew it! I knewthere was a reason you agreed to this so quickly!”

“What? So I’m multitasking,” she shrugs. “I can find ahottie to take home and be your wingwoman at the same time. It’s a win-win,babe.”

Jane’s the one laughing now while Sutton rolls her eyes, andthen they’re at the entrance to the gallery, walking up behind several otherpeople also making their way in.

“What happened with you and that guy?” Jane asks. “What washis name?”

“Daryn,” Sutton supplies.

“Yeah, Daryn.”

“He started sending me good morning texts,” Kat says,leading the way towards the small pop-up bar stationed in the corner.

She knows that Sutton and Jane are sharing a look behind herbut she ignores them, pulling her card out of her wallet.

“Yeah, hi, can I get a vodka cran, please?” she asks thebartender, and Sutton leans against the makeshift bar top beside her.

“Oh! There he is!” Sutton jumps, grasping her arm, and Janeturns her head around.

“Okay, so what do you want us to do?” Jane asks.

Brian looks up and there’s a clear moment where he andSutton make eye contact before she looks away, back to the two of them.

“Wait for him to come to us,” Sutton says, conspiring, andKat thanks the bartender for her drink.

“So what’s this show for?” Jane questions, looking around,and Kat follows suit.

It’s the first time since she walked in that she’s paid anyattention to the art on the walls. The show must be for multiple artists,because the pieces are split up in different sections of the gallery and arevery different from each other. Some are paintings, others photographs.

The pictures really catch her eye, even from a distance,because they’re striking portraits of people. She makes a mental note to maybecheck them out more later, once they successfully run into Brian.

Brian finally comes over with a friend (who unsuccessfullytries to hit on Jane) about ten minutes later, and then Sutton is gone,chatting and walking with him around the gallery. She and Jane share a subtlefist bump, across their cocktail table, and that’s when she notices a girl withside-shaved hair and a septum piercing not so subtly glancing at the two ofthem.

Jane notices too after a moment, giving Kat a look, and shegives a small shake of her head in return.

“I can already smell that she doesn’t wear deodorant, so that’sgonna be a hard no from me,” she whispers, matter of fact, and Jane holds theback of her hand to her mouth to hide her laugh.

A woman starts speaking from a microphone, diverting theirattention, and thanks people for coming, explaining the show and introducing theartists.

“…and last, but certainly not least, Adena El-Amin.”

Several people cheerand clap as a woman wearing a flowy red top, hair wrapped and covered, smilesin acknowledgment at the crowd in the room and hugs the woman holding the mic.

Kat can tell even from her spot by the bar that the artistis beautiful, and she doesn’t even realize that her head is tilted, biting herlip and staring after her, until Jane elbows her.

“No way.”

“What?” she questions, feigning innocence.

“There’s no way you’re getting her to go home with you,”Jane says, and she scoffs.

“Is that a bet?” she answers, competitiveness kicking in,and Jane groans.

“What are the odds that she’s even into women?”

Kat watches Adena, the way she greets people, the way sheinteracts with the women around her, and she’s already getting some vibes.

“Mm, fifty percent, at least,” she hums, thoughtful.

“Wow, ok. Didn’t mean that as a literal question. How do youeven…”

She sets her empty drink down on the high table, doesn’t letJane finish her question before cutting in with—

“Wish me luck, tiny Jane.”

She walks away toward the artist before Jane can stop her.

She decides to go look at Adena’s art first, so she hassomething to talk about, something to open with. And it’s only after staringfor several minutes at the gorgeous portraits of people from mosques throughoutthe city that she makes her way over to the photographer.

She’s exactly as pretty close-up as Kat thought she’d be,and there’s a brief moment of butterflies in her stomach. Because yeah, she’sgood at this and she knows she’s hot, but this woman is gorgeous and apparentlyalso talented as fuck. But Jane is gonna give her such a hard time if shedoesn’t follow through after acting so confident, so there’s no backing downnow.

“Hi,” she says, as soon as the person talking to Adena turnsaway. “I’m Kat,” she continues, extending her hand, and Adena reaches out toshake it. “Your photographs are so beautiful, I had to meet you.”

The artist smiles back with warm brown eyes, and her hand issoft against Kat’s before she drops it.

“Thank you, Kat. And thank you for coming over to introduceyourself. I always enjoy meeting new people at shows.”

“Of course,” she answers, giving her best relaxed smile.“And I love those earrings, they’re gorgeous on you.”

She sneaks in the initial compliment, subtly flirtatiousenough that a straight girl wouldn’t think anything of it. But then Adena picksup on it, gives her a slow smile in response, blinking up at her, and bingo.

Adena doesn’t blush though, doesn’t show any sign ofbashfulness. Instead she just smiles, arms crossed against her chest when she surveys Kat with curiosity and answers—

“What brought you here tonight?”

“My friend’s trying to impress this guy she met on tinder,and I was her wingwoman,” she says, deciding for honesty, and Adena gives asurprised laugh. “Tell me more about this project,” Kat smiles, inclining herhead towards Adena’s photographs.

She knows that artist types love to talk about their work,that it’s the best way to keep conversation going with Adena right now, andsure enough Adena’s face lights up, answering her.

Here’s the thing, though, that she doesn’t see coming—

Adena? Is actually an incredible person to listen to. Andthe more she talks about her work, answering Kat’s follow-up questions, themore she’s genuinely interested in it all.

Adena talks about both the love and the tension that shefeels in places of worship, the conversations that led to these pictures, andKat is absolutely enamored with her. The more that the conversation unfolds,the more unsure of herself she feels, like she’s been thrown off her gamecompletely.

This wasn’t how this conversation was supposed to go.

“Listen, Kat, there are some other people here that I needto speak with, to thank,” Adena explains, and she wonders how long they’ve beentalking. “But I would very much like to continue our conversation. Do you havetime, after the show? It will probably be another hour or so before I’mfinished. If not, I understand. I know it’s getting late.”

Kat smiles at her, more bashful than earlier, and nods.

“I’d like that. I’ll hang around, come find me when you’reready.”

They end up at a late night café, a couple blocks down, andthey’ve been talking for nearly forty-five minutes when Kat pauses, shaking herhead.

“You know, I honestly had no idea we’d end up talking likethis, when I walked up to you,” she admits, a little unnerved by how quicklythis has become something like a date.

“Oh?” Adena asks, curious and chin resting in her hand.

“No, I just thought you were really attractive,” Kat laughs,opting for honesty, and Adena smiles at her.

Her face is more contemplative than anything else, gaugingKat’s reaction, when she says, “You should know that I’m not one for hook-ups.”

“I already figured that out,” she says, and Adena quirks hereyebrow. “I’ve given you like, at least two clear openings to leave this caféwith me that you swerved.”

Adena laughs and then bites her lip, looking in to Kat’seyes, and god she’s so pretty thatKat just really wants to kiss her.

“So…what now?”

Adena asks it like she means it, like she’s truly open to possibilityfor whatever’s unfolding between them, and there’s something so disarming aboutit all.

Her phone screen lights up with another text from Jane outof the corner of her eye, also revealing the time and how late it is.

“Now…” she hums, holding Adena’s hand where it’s resting ontheir little table and giving her a flirtatious look. “Now I give you my number,and… I leave because I have an 8 AM meeting tomorrow. Aaand, you text me if youwant to see me again.”

Adena looks into her eyes, making Kat swallow, then gives alittle quirk of her lips and reaches in her bag for her phone.

“Okay.”

Kat doesn’t think about what this means right now, the implicationsof it all. Because she doesn’t date. She doesn’t.

But this felt suspiciously like an impromptu date, and she’ssad that it’s over, and she’s already hoping that Adena follows through andtexts her.

This doesn’t happen to her. Ever.

She knows she’s gonna have to talk to Jane and Sutton aboutit, and she’s already dreading their overdramatic excitement.

Adena gives Kat her number too, and then they’re standingoutside of the café together. It feels weird, leaving like this. Do they justsay bye and start walking in opposite directions? Do they hug?

Kat really wants to kiss her, and in any other situation theclear signs would be there for her to just go for it.

Adena holds her armsout for a hug and Kat follows her lead, sinking into her embrace. She feelswarmth spread through her body at the intimate contact, at how good she feelseven just like this. And when Adena starts to pull back, Kat looks into hereyes, decides to go for it and whispers—

“Can I kiss you?”

She honestly doesn’t know what the answer is going to be.But then Adena is nodding, coy smile on her face when she leans in and Katbrings their lips together, cupping her face.

She feels her whole body react, because Adena kisses hermore deeply than she expects, mouth relaxed as their lips glide together, andKat grasps her waist. And then, just as she’s starting to get lost in the kiss,hands wandering her back, Adena pulls away, smiling and blinking up at herbefore she takes a step back.

“You don’t play fair,” Kat says, trying not to whine, andAdena’s eyes are sparkling when she gives her a knowing smile.

“Goodnight, Kat.”

“G’night, Adena.”

She’s still standing there, dazed from the kiss, when Adena smiles and walks away.

#bz fics #kadena #i think this is officially the longest response ive ever had to an ask prompt lmao

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blackholeofprocrastination · 7 years

Text

First Lines Meme

I was tagged by the crazypants talented @sunbeamsandmoonrays .

Rules: List the first five lines of your last 20 stories (or however many you have altogether. WIPs count). See if there are any patterns. Then, tag your favorite authors.

(The real lesson here is I can’t come up with titles worth a darn)

1) I Want You So Much (But I Hate Your Guts)

“Sansa?”

A hand touches her elbow and she turns. Her smile becomes more strained when she sees who has drawn her attention.

Sansa thought Jon had left for the evening with Robb and the others. It was the knowledge that the visiting Targaryen prince was occupied in Robb’s study that had allowed Sansa to relax for the first time all night.

2) The Beard Ficlet

Aemon let out a hearty wail, his face pinched red with distress. Jon tried to soothe his son, drawing him to his chest and rocking him the way that always seemed to work in the past, but Aemon would not be calmed. He squirmed desperately in Jon’s arms and seemed to cry louder at Jon’s attempts to hold him close.

“There, there now my sweet boy. Come here. Shh. It’s alright,” Sansa cooed, rising from where her maid was finishing her hair for the feast and taking Aemon from Jon. “It’s alright, sweetling. Mama has you.”

3) SUPER Random Lyanna/Stannis Salty Teens Au

Stannis has learned there are some things about marriage no one bothered to tell him (not that he was told anything of use to begin with).

Perhaps if his father had lived, he might have imparted some fatherly counsel on these…intimacies between a lord and his lady wife that have left Stannis so very perplexed. Or even Robert, had he been a different sort of brother.

But no, Stannis thinks with a grimace. Had Robert lived, Stannis would have no bride to torment and confuse him in the first place.

4) Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered

Sansa can feel it. The familiar push of resistance. The haziness. Like a heavy drape being pulled across a window.

Arya’s skill with Occlumency had been a boon when it came to impressing the big cheeses back in her department, but in moments like this, Sansa can’t help but wish her sister was a little less ‘gifted’ when it came to shutting her out.

Sansa glances across the gin joint’s dimly lit floor to where Arya is nursing her drink at their table.

5) A Lesson In Courtesy

Jon is in the rookery when word reaches him.

“The king has been injured.”

He does not wait to hear more from the skinny lad that has been sent to find him, and all but sprints down the tower stairs into the keep proper, roughly jostling past servants and guardsman in his way.

A coldness grips at his heart, far worse than anything he faced at the Wall.

This is what he has feared since the moment Wyman Manderly had produced Rickon from out of nowhere, hale and whole, after the dust had settled from the siege on the Boltons.

6) How Does Your Garden Grow

She is a child of seven when Mother gives her a spade.

Though it is finely made, with a polished rosewood handle engraved with the sigil of their house, it is far from the most enticing of her nameday gifts. Margaery is more drawn to the doll from Father, with it��s pretty porcelain face and real golden curls or even the heavy book on constellations Willas gives her along with his promise of helping her find them in the night sky.

Still, Margaery knows Mother owns a spade of it’s like. She has spied it tucked into the basket Mother carries when she takes to the gardens in the afternoon.

7) Rose Colored Glasses

There is a minute shift in Snow’s posture that sets every nerve in Margaery’s body on alert.

She takes a drag from her cigarette, her other hand inching discretely under her hem towards the piece strapped to her thigh. She does a quick scan of casino floor.

The front entrance? Clear. The mark? Still seated at his table. And Sansa…

Margaery’s finger drifts away from the trigger when she spots the source of Snow’s agitation.

8) Only Make Believe

A peck. That’s all Sansa intends when she surges forward, arms thrown about Jon’s neck. But as she presses her lips to his, she lingers.

Sansa has known her share of kisses, on and off the stage, but as she feels Jon respond to the gentle pull of her mouth, his stubble rough under her palms, his chest warm and firm and close, she begins to wonder if she has ever been properly kissed before.

Jon has always been a such a steadying presence for her (for all of them), but there is nothing steady about the way she feels in his arms.

9) First Date/Last Night

“You ok?” she asks when he goes quiet for too long.

Rickon is walking slower than usual. He wants to drag whatever this is out as long as he possibly can. He smiles when he notices Shireen seems to have no problem with the pace he’s set, ambling beside him, every other step swaying her so close their shoulders almost brush.

“Yeah,” Rickon answers, before adding teasingly, “Only my jaw’s a little sore. Got clocked by some girl tonight.”

10) You’ve Consumed My Waking Days

Sansa feels the mattress dip as her lord husband climbs under the furs beside her. She keeps her back turned to him and her eyes screwed shut, feinting sleep. She thinks she has nearly succeeded in fooling him, when the weight of a gentle hand presses on her shoulder.

“Sansa? Sansa, are you awake?”

She can smell the ale on his breath. He’s been drinking with Robb and Theon.

11) Random Show!Verse Drabble

Jon makes his way up the familiar stairs to his boyhood chamber. He is bone tired and every muscle in his body seems to call out for a bed. All thoughts of sleep disappear when he rounds the landing and find a half dozen serving men and women scurrying busily about. He is soon spotted and all pause in their work long enough to duck their heads with a murmured ‘your grace’. Jon nods stiffly.

12) Dreams Unwind

“You look like shite.“

Arya is watching him from across the table, those sharp grey eyes too perceptive for their own good. As a girl, she could always read him so easily. It seems their years apart haven’t changed much.

"Didn’t sleep,” Jon offers as explanation.

13) Take Me Home Part 2

Rickon wants to stay nestled in Mother’s arms forever.

She is soft and her cloak smells of salt and the sea. It reminds him of the cave, of Skaagos, and he wonders if Mother would take him there if he asked. He could protect her there. Protect them both. They could be happy.

14) I’m With The Band

Jon unlocks his phone and begins to thumb through his unread texts.

There’s one from the band’s publicist, Satin, reminding him about the radio interview he has scheduled tomorrow afternoon before their show. Jon types out a quick ‘ok’ before closing the message out and scrolling through the rest.

He chuckles under his breath when he sees the one from Jeyne. It’s a picture of Ghost seated on the couch beside to her, his belly exposed for scratching.

15) Then Comes Marriage

“That’ll be a match someday. Mark my words.”

Catelyn followed the direction of Leona Manderly’s nod to where Sansa and Jon Snow stood idling by the hedgerow.

“They’re children,” Catelyn protested, not liking what Mrs. Manderly was implying. Sansa was far too young to entertain such notions.

Mrs. Manderly scoffed, shooting Catelyn a knowing look over the rim of her teacup.

16) We’d Up And Fly If We Had Wings For Flying

Before they set out from the Gates of the Moon, father gifts her with a fine new cloak.

It is a pretty thing, lined thick with sable, and fastened together with a silver broach inlaid with moonstones. She thinks it too fine for a bastard girl, no matter how beloved, but Alayne accepts it with a smile and an obedient kiss to father’s whiskered cheek.

She dons it over her riding clothes the morning they are to leave, desperately trying to quiet the secret part of her heart that calls for another cloak, the one that was promised to her.

“They will love their Young Falcon…and when they come together for his wedding, and you come out with your long auburn hair, clad in a maiden’s cloak of white and grey with a direwolf emblazoned on the back” father had said. “Why, every knight in the Vale will pledge his sword to win you back your birthright.”

17) Stranger Things Have Happened

It’s weird. The sight of Hardyng on his couch.

Nearly as weird as setting out bear traps and gasoline to catch a monster.

Jon slumps against the paneling in the living room. The fire extinguisher is still clutched tightly in his bandaged hand.

18) How Long Has This Been Going On?

“I’m so sorry, Jon.”

Sansa glances at him, a chagrinned sort of smile twisting her lips. Her camera equipment lies forgotten on a low table near the front of the shop, set aside as she begins to scoop up armfuls of the books that are scattered on the floor.

“Margaery got it into her head that a drab setting might suit the collection. Something about contrasts. I didn’t think she’d make such pig of herself or else I’d never have suggested we shoot here.”

19) No Hero In Her Sky

Margaery is upon him from the moment Willas dismounts his horse. She rains kisses on his cheeks and nearly topples them both onto the cobbles of the courtyard before a servant can hand him his cane.

“I’m so glad you are here!”

Willas smiles at her fondly as she clasps his free hand in both of hers.

She is his queen now.

20) Her Province

Quentyn wakes shivering, his teeth clenched tight within his head. He cracks open one sleep-crusted eye and sees the cause: Dany has pulled the bedclothes entirely to her side.

Quentyn smiles.

She is as much a conqueror in sleep as she is in her waking hours, claiming every inch, every fur, every bolster she can.

Tagging: I don’t know who’s already done the thing...so, if you want to do thing DO IT (and then tag me so I can bask in your awesome!)

#so many ships i feel guilty tagging them #a lot of jon x sansa but not all...because my trash brain ships ALL THE WEIRD THINGS #i always feel like i've only written like three fics so it was kind of a surprise how fast i got to 20 #first lines meme

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