#so anyway yeah if you write in show verse with me hope you're ready for angst lmao

[ardenrabbit]

Hello!

A Long and Slow Recovery - are we past the halfway point? I am so excited to see how everything turns out. Did you do a lot of research to delve into Xie Lian’s experience with recovery? It’s very well written with regard to his mental and emotional struggles. Also , I just love how you write Hua Cheng and Xie Lian’s interactions.

Those Worthy of Following( new name change!) - I gushed about it in your comment section but need to emphasize how much I love that opening chapter with the dual between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian. And this dynamic, of Hua Cheng being the prince, and Xie Lian being the bodyguard, is A+++. Xie Lian is so calm and kind and powerful. He was so fierce about Hua Cheng not talking down about himself. Like,yes gege, please show your Hua Cheng how precious he is, haha. I ❤️ reading Xie Lian showing his protectiveness of Hua Cheng, even from the man himself. I’m also keen to see how Feng Xin and Mu Qing will take to Xie Lian in this verse too.

Is there anything else you can share about it that’s not spoilers? If not, that’s fine too!

Your writing is just delicious - a pleasure, something to savor and come back to again and again.

Thank you!

Omg thank you so much 💕😭💕 Your comments are always such a delight!! It's so validating and encouraging and I hope you know that!!

We are indeed past the halfway point in alasr! I honestly just kind of know what happens in a big blob with like half a dozen bullet points, so I don't have a final chapter count ready, but Chapter 20 is basically the start of the second half of the story. I originally thought the fic was gonna end at just about the New Year celebration, but it turns out his recovery is taking a lot longer than that, and his recovery isn't even the only one we're dealing with now, so I got ambitious. The premise also uh deserves a little more closure and resolution than that lol, so Arc 2 is gonna be a little higher stakes than we've had so far.

I'm so glad you're enjoying how I'm writing Xie Lian and his recovery! Haha I did research a variety of other conditions and disabilities and read accounts from people who have them, because that's just good research. Honestly, though, inspiration for the vast majority of Xie Lian's mental/emotional struggles have been sourced from firsthand experience :)

I'm mentally and physically disabled and have been my whole life, and I wasn't even diagnosed with anything (I was somehow just diagnosed with Teenager) until I hit rock bottom about it in adulthood. I've gotten to a better place with the mental stuff, but even though it's no longer an active threat to me, my bad days can still leave me nonverbal, disconnected from reality, and sometimes catatonic. The physical stuff has been getting worse over the years, and even though I can still walk independently with a cane when I leave the house (as long as I rest a lot), I still fall down just walking in my own home. I keep having to remember that my chronic pain and fatigue isn't normal, and I keep getting evidence that I'm worse than I thought. I've had to reorganize my life around all of it and I'm uh. Not taking it well lately lol.

So alasr is my self-therapy project. Xie Lian is going to get better and I'm not, and that still kind of pisses me off lol, but it's nice to vent and see someone else get a happy ending. So...yeah, at least writing alasr has helped distract me from my own pity party, and Xie Lian's anger, despair, guilt, and forced optimism are cathartic for me. It's not just about me, though; obviously I'm trying to stay in character for him and write in the context of his specific circumstances. But I guess I relate to sick fic stuff lol

Fully aware that that was a lot of oversharing 💜

But ANYWAY, AS FOR ✨ THOSE WORTHY OF FOLLOWING ✨ I'm so glad you're liking that one so far too!! I craaaaave protective badass Xie Lian and I needed a different brand of angst and drama from alasr for a while lol. I love writing violence tbh. I don't wanna spoil too much, but I definitely wanna confirm this:

TWOF is NOT a post-canon reincarnation fic. I'm personally not up for writing that kind of loss of all their canon experiences. And there are probably some really well-written takes on it! It's just not personally my speed. 😅 This one might seem like a post-canon reincarnation fic in the first couple chapters, but it'll make more sense soon.

It IS angst with a HAPPY ending, I promise!! What I'm planning right now gets really rather sad and it might seem hopeless at some point, but I promise, I'm confident in my plan to make it genuinely happy and fulfilling!

I'm exploring a trope about which I've had some general hangups, but I honestly enjoy taking tropes and tweaking them to my preferences. I think a lot of people can already guess what trope I'm talking about, which is fine with me! If it means the buildup and foreshadowing are working, I'm happy it fits!

What I'm panicking about with this wip is that I've convinced myself that I need to earn a doctorate in Tang Dynasty battle and siege tactics to write it credibly lmao. I spent three hours the other night researching ancient Chinese fire starters and the differences between Han and Tang era tea preparation (to little avail). This one is gonna take a lot of research for my own peace of mind but I hope it pays off!

Mu Qing and Feng Xin are gonna be okay!! Someone commented on ch2 that they liked that Mu Qing got hurt because they hate him and I'm like...I didn't think I'd framed that as a good thing..... 😅 That was something a Bad Guy did.......... 😅😅😅

Thank you so much for your kind comments and all of the fun engagement!! I'm truly so honored that you've enjoyed my writing so far! 💖💖💖

#silver-cyn #tgcf #my writing #alasr #twof #oh look it talks #fic spoilers

[a-lil-bi-furious]

77!

Thank you for the ask!! 🥰 And sorry for the delay

77) "Take What I Can Get" by Matthew Mayfield

Not sure how well I'll be able to articulate thoughts, but I'm getting major Scott POV Sceo vibes. I feel like this fic would center on Scott's internal conflict trying to process how he feels about Theo. They've got quite the complicated history for Obvious Reasons, and there's a lot of hurt and anger and fear stored inside. But also Theo's stuck around and made such an effort, and he's really seeming different. Scott keeps seeing these glimpses behind the mask Theo so carefully creates, and maybe some forgiveness and hope and ✨feelings✨ have started to creep in too.

I'll break out your windows, I don't need a key Show me your doubts and I'll make you believe Yeah, you're still here to haunt me, you ain't gone So, I'll take what I can get

It feels like at this point there's a sort of longing developing for Theo to let Scott in and trust him in a real way. Of course the murder, the betrayal, can't ever be undone and the Trauma of it always lingers between them. But...part of their haunting each other also lies in this complex something they had between them that got all tangled up in the bad. But that something could really be something, if they want. And maybe Scott's realizing he wants. Even with the emotional dissonance he feels about Theo.

So they've got this fragile relationship developing, and everything's still tense but it's also oddly calm. But then Theo also seems like at any moment he might disappear from Beacon Hills and never come back. Maybe he even does leave, and Scott has to let him, and they don't say the words they need to and it's all angsty?

If you are coming home, I'll be out on my own I don't need you to give me back the open wounds But if you start to shed your skin, naked heart wearing thin When you call I'll be here once again

Anyway it feels like things would be really open-ended, and at this point, whatever happens is going to be up to Theo. Whether he comes home to Scott Beacon Hills. Whether he's ready to face himself and what he's done and put in the effort building a genuine relationship would take. Whether he's willing to be vulnerable and honest, to be patient and understanding while the wounds heal.

But also, maybe my Sceo association here really is as simple as the mention of open wounds and the snake-like imagery of shedding a skin in this last verse.

(Send a # between 1-101 and I’ll tell you what fic I’d write based on its corresponding song in my Spotify wrapped)

#momentofmemory #ask games #sceo #teen wolf

[dragonmuse]

I'm still very fucked up over 'wake myself in the shadows,' in a way I think I've only been fucked up over your Eddy/Izzy AUs. The line "Charlie doesn't like his bruises much," made me wonder how violence fits into his relationship with Charlie. Does he ever witness it beyond Izzy telling the occasional handsy-not-in-the-good-way club goer to fuck off? How does Charlie react? Do they ever have an honest discussion about what he does for a living? Since Charlie seemingly lived a rich boy apple pie life that he clawed himself out of, does he ever find himself taken a bit by Izzy's absolute horror show of a past and profession? Will I ever be okay about anything you write?!

I can answer all of those except the last one. The last one I can only say, I hope not! Living the dream making my headcanons other people's problems honestly.

Charlie sees far more of Izzy's violent side in wmits then Lucius ever does in the main verse. Mostly because Charlie is willing to put himself in far higher risk situations. The 'don't fucking touch him' scenes have resulted in: unconsciousness, head wounds, vomiting and several broken fingers. Possibly a broken wrist, they didn't stick around long enough to find out.

Charlie loves it, in a desperate sour way. It doesn't turn him on. They've never had sex directly afterwards or even in the same night, but it feeds Charlie's need to be protected and cared for. He will absolutely dote on Izzy afterwards, clinging, kissing, hugging, patching any minor wounds he's picked up, which clearly does not act as a deterrent against future events.

As to honest discussion of the work, Izzy idly critiques a scene in a book they're both reading right around when Charlie's getting ready to move away:

"Anyway, people don't say meaningful shit when they're dying like that."

"What do you mean?" Charlie glanced up from the muffin he'd been picking at.

"Blood loss makes you all..." Izzy waved a hand around his head. "People say stupid shit mostly."

"Iz," Charlie said carefully. "How do you know that?"

Izzy stared at him, "Work."

"Yeah, I know you spend a lot of time beating people up, but you're not an assassin."

"I'm not," Izzy agreed. "Forget it."

Charlie did not forget it. He thought about it a lot. He moved. Izzy visited. On the second or third visit, they were in Charlie's too small bed, Charlie sprawled on top of him, Izzy rubbing a hand between his shoulder blades.

"You know a serial killer is defined by three or more murders." Izzy's hand went still. "As long as there's some space between them. Otherwise they're just sparkling spree killers."

"Is that so."

"Yeah, fun fact: I do not give a shit."

"You should," Izzy said quietly. "You really fucking should."

Charlie laid his head down flat so he could hear Izzy's heartbeat steady in his ear.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"No. Didn't feel any particular way about it."

"Going to do it again?"

"No. Jackie doesn't need it and I'm about done there anyway."

"Would you ever hurt me?"

"Fuck no."

"Then yeah, I don't really care."

After that, Izzy told him stories. To Charlie, they're really just that because Izzy tells them so simply it's hard to take them very seriously. The people Izzy talks about seem like bad news and Charlie figures, in a very distant unprocessed way, that they probably deserve it.

"Then I shot him."

"Did you stay to make sure he was dead?"

"In too much of a rush. That's why I shot him twice, demon."

"Make sense. How'd you get away?"

As to Izzy's childhood....One of the things I didn't get too far into, but you are exactly right about, about Charlie in this verse is that he is a Trust Fund Baby. Charlie in the main verse is rich, but mostly doesn't spend it in obvious loud ways. Charlie in wmits is Rich. His money is another shield that keeps the world at arm's length. He will wear bitchy expensive sunglasses, make problems disappear, and travel first class only.

He mostly confronts Izzy's past at odd angles because of that. The way Izzy will use every last scrape of a jar of something, and is adamant about finishing leftovers, or won't throw out an old t-shirt even though he's not sentimental over it. Charlie gets baffled by all that and Izzy has to explain what it is to not have enough.

Then there are the times that Izzy will sit bolt upright in bed in the middle of the night, startling Charlie awake and after a few times, Charlie makes him explain, so Izzy tells him what it's like not to feel safe in your own bed, and then Charlie has a few sleepless nights.

"Is there anything that helps?"

"Waking up next to you. Reminds me things are different," Izzy nudged him with his elbow. "Don't worry about it."

Charlie, not prone to worrying about anyone, does. And he tapers away sleeping at hook ups houses and then eventually stops altogether. He'd rather be in his own bed anyway.

What Charlie never is, is scared of Izzy. He probably should be. He's watched Izzy be scary. Knows exactly what he's capable of, but Charlie is used to being scared of all the wrong things and not scared of the right ones.

And of course, it creates more of that 'world of two' feeling. Because Charlie knows who Izzy is when no one else does. He's very protective over that.

Lucius never knows any of this in this verse. He knows Izzy has a lot of scars, but he knows that Eddy does too and leaves it there. He doesn't need to know.

I'd happily flush out more! I love these two horrible lovers and their oblivious third wheel very much.

#leda house and the kraken verse #ask answered #wake myself in the shadows #charlie bonnet #izzy hands

[blissfullybloomed]

Bloom

The hardest part is showing up, and you did just that today.

Welcome, I hope you're ready for a journey- I sure am, so lets go!

It's introduction time for my readers.

Hi, my name is...Victoria Marie Bloom, I'm 35, a massage therapist, a photographer, a well versed business woman, a yoga teacher( in training), and a scuba diver( also in training).

Wow! What an intro....I've worn many hats in my thirty-five years, and I have found that each hat is very specific for where I am currently in life. The hat(s), I'm wearing now...Massage Therapist- yeah, I'm in love. We can talk about how I got there a little later- I want to give you some insight into why I decided to write a blog...online...for everyone to read.

I will be honest with you guys, I have no idea where to actually start. How do you start telling people you've never met , about your life? This isn't a Facebook post, a Instagram reel, or snap story....this is therapeutic healing. This is an outlet I have chosen to use to allow others to follow along, and maybe something I say...will help you or give you a different perspective in life. This will also probably offend you and your beliefs at some point...ill ask you hang in with me, and keep reading. Regardless if you are offended...we can still disagree and love one another. We need more love in this world anyway.

Love and Music are the two universal languages across the globe. You can see love across the aisle at the grocery store, between two people who are fighting over what hot sauce to get for taco night. You see love in how the candle flickers against the wall during date nights. You see love in the unheard smiles on the phone, and the hugs you give your cat. I hope the most precious place you find love, is yourself. Loving yourself is something I personally have won the fight over- I also know there are people who struggle with this currently. Its not easy friend, but trust me , you are not alone. Love is also found in musical lyrics, tones, and even musical silences. The moment in between a decrescendo and crescendo. That small space where things shift in a positive way.

THAT is where you find love for yourself. The in between, the uncomfortable, and the silent.

Remember friend, that space is temporary- you have to go up sometime.

Learn to love yourself in the uncomfortable. That is where you bloom.

Like I said, welcome to a journey. Love yourself the most.

[alietohelpyouseethetruth]

Where do I even begin.

My best friend and I bonded over a English band called Hurts. By that I mean she did not like me but then found out I was the only other person she knew who listened to them and gave me a chance. She has become one of the most important people in my life and has helped me more than another human should ever be expected to help someone. And she loves me now because I am super cool. That band has a been a fun and exciting note of our friendship, something that bonded us because it felt like it was only our thing. I know there are thousands of people listening around the world to this band but in my little world, it’s just me and her, it’s ours, and it is special.

This music video hurt my feelings.

I had just come out of a pretty severe depression, and I was still pretty fragile. My friend came over after going to therapy with me (yeah, we’re that close) and we chilled out and watched Hurts music videos like we do every so often to celebrate the blossoming of our unlikely friendship. Neither of us had kept up with the band super well so we hadn’t seen this one yet. It absolutely floored me. As soon as it was over I replayed it. Wow.

Theo Hutchcraft said in an interview that this was the most honest song he had ever written. And it is so beautifully and bravely honest. It felt universal when I watched the video and listened to the lyrics, and yet it also felt very personal, like he wrote it for me to hear so I would feel understood.

Lyrically the song is pretty simple and that is the way to write a depression song. There is a place for fantastical words and poetry, but when you are trying to communicate so big, the best way to do it is to take the big thing and condense it into something simple. That is what is most powerful. That is how it is best understood, and more importantly felt.

It broke my heart to hear it, to know that he was feeling like this. That single emotion he captured and built around, “It might not be good enough, but it’s all I have to give,” is so universally felt. It really gives insight into where he was at in the feeling of being depressed, not the beginning when you’re ashamed and trying to deny it, not the middle where you feel sorry for yourself and indulge in feeling sick and self-destructive, but the end. The part where you come to realize this is who you are. This is what it is. This is all you’ve got. You look in the mirror and realize that you can’t hide from it.

“The walls are closing in” is a line that might easily be ignored, but it really sets the tone and helps people see from the outside how strong the effect the sickness can have on your mind. You feel like its all coming down around you, even when the room is still. I also really appreciate the underlying positivity and hope that he has weaved into it, lines like “make the best of the state I am in”, “I don’t know why I’m hiding from the truth”, and “I’m destined to suffer until I discover the reasons I’m afraid”, that make you feel like he is ready to look into getting help.

The video itself (spoiler alert) is so phenomenal in the message it communicates because it shows Theo beaten, broken, in a dirty bathroom trying to recover from a open wound. That is the drama we want to see as consumers. We want the blood and the shaky breaths to communicate to us the intensity of the emotion. We want it to look big and dramatic. But that’s not what it’s like. That’s not what depression is. There’s no production to it, but it is just as painful as bleeding out alone in a public bathroom. As the video progresses and the illusion breaks down, with people taking down the set and even removing the bandage to show there’s no wound, it brings that I’m-about-to-die-alone-in-a-gas-station feeling into reality. Theo really brings it home, standing there shirtless at the end of the video, not stylized to be sexy, but just exposed. This is what it is. This is what it looks like. As he sings the last verse he can’t even look directly into the camera, because the shame of being that honest in that state can be so overpowering. It was so genius the way he was able to take the pain and intensity of the feelings, and show them to us, and then slowly break them down, showing that such strong feelings can be so easily hidden behind a pretty average expression.

Bro if you relate to this song please get help because you deserve to not feel like that.

Another thing I love is the notion that even in this broken state, Theo still wants to give. He still wants to “be there for his brother and strong for his mother,” he still wants to connect with others and help even in that state. He writes that he’s pushing his friends away and keeping things from his mother not because he doesn’t want to be close, but because he knows the intense pain he feels will hurt them too and he wants to protect them. That feeling of “you may be right…I never open up, but this is all I have to give,” that feeling when you don’t even feel like you have the inner strength to ask for help, and there’s a part of you begging that this version of you is enough for the ones you love.

Depression isn’t beautiful. Theo and Adam mentioned in an interview that they weren’t really able to be creative in that state. It didn’t inspire them, it suffocated them, and it wasn’t until it lessened that they were able to express it. Depression isn’t beautiful. It’s not fun being heartbroken. It’s not glamorous to grieve. So why do we write about it? Why do we turn it into art? I think it is of course because we are seeking to be understood, to express ourself, to connect with others. But there is also something empowering about taking something like this, something with no joy, no pleasure, and turning it into something that is beautiful. You took something awful and made something good with it. You took a negative and squeezed out some little ounce of positivity. That is what it means to be human.

Anyway here are the lyrics in case you don’t feel like googling

You're staring in the mirror

Watching as the walls are closing in

A shadow of a figure

Tryna make the best of this state that I am in

I guess I could do with the friends

I've been pushing away

But I'm destined to suffer

Until I discover he reasons I'm afraid

God knows I try

It might not be good enough

But it's all I have to give

This is all I have to give

You might be right, sometimes

I never open up

But it's all I have to give

This is all I have to give

You're staring in the mirror

Picturing the face of a younger man

He buries it away

'Cause he's gotta try and cope in a way he understand

Be there for your brother

And strong for your mother again

'Cause he's too young to get it and she'll get upset

If she knows you feel the pain

God knows I try

It might not be good enough

But it's all I have to give

This is all I have to give

You might be right, sometimes

I'm too scared to open up

But it's all I have to give

This is all I have to give to you

I tell myself there's nothing left to lose

I don't know why I'm hiding from the truth

I face myself and all I see is you

Is you

You're staring in the mirror

Watching as the walls are closing in

But God knows I try (God knows)

It might not be good enough (might not be good enough)

But it's all I have to give

This is all I have to give

You might be right, sometimes

I'm too scared to open up

But it's all I have to give

This is all I have to give to you

To you

This is all I have to give

#hurts #songwriting #lyrics #music videos #allihavetogive #allihavetogivehurts #allihavetogivemusicvideo #depression #helladepression #supersadmusic #theo hutchcraft #adam anderson #rambleingsofagirlwithtoomanyfeelings #art #ART! #yeah #Youtube

[builder051]

Hi! You asked for prompts, and if you're willing, I'd love to see more sick Steve! Maybe Bucky is fairly far along in his recovery, and Steve wakes up sick in the middle of the night (emeto, please?) No pressure of you don't want to write this, I absolutely love all of your work!!!

Alright, here’s what I’ve got… Sorry this is kind of a downer.  I like plot, and when you leave me to my own devices, well, this is kind of what happens.  I have a hard time writing sick Steve because it just feels kind of unrealistic (yes, I know, it’s all fiction).  So, if you follow my stuff on AO3, this story is kind of more aftermath of the events in You can have my everything  (access through the link below, but be aware there are archive warnings)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11835690

This little fic doesn’t address any of the mega badness, but it is kind of like depressed Steve being depressed.

I’m sorry if this is totally not what you ordered.  Feel free to ask for something else if you don’t like it.

We are in somewhat-canon ‘verse.  

____________________________________________________

Steve’d hoped that his bad mood would lift when he got home.  But now he’s parked his bike in the garage, kicked off his shoes, and unloaded his work bag, but he still can’t pull his mind away from missions gone badly and past social missteps and assorted other failures that are long gone, but still make his ears burn with shame.

“Hey,” Bucky calls from the kitchen.  Steve can hear the flicker of the gas stove and the hiss of something sautéing in oil.

Back before the war, it was always Steve in the kitchen and Bucky sauntering in, the breadwinner home from work with the expectation of food and affection.  But everything’s different now.  They’ve settled into the new routine of Steve taking on Bucky’s old role, and vice versa.

Except today it’s challenging to accept.  Chicken and pineapple sizzle in a frying pan while rice cooks on the back burner.  Bucky looks serene and almost happy as he cooks.  Anything good for Bucky is good for him, but today Steve feels like it’s all wrong.

“Hey,” Bucky says again, lifting his spatula and smiling at Steve in the kitchen doorway.  “You hungry?”

“Um.  Yeah,” Steve lies.  His stomach is in knots.  Why is Bucky so content to cater to him like the doting wife to Steve’s provider husband?  He doesn’t deserve it.  He can’t begin to deserve it.

“It’s a new recipe I got from the Food Network,” Bucky explains.  “Pineapple fried rice with chicken.  It’s kind of weird because it has chicken and eggs in it.”  He shakes his head at the perceived absurdity of it. “But I think it’s turning out well.”  He uses a knife to scrape a neat pile of green onions into the pan.

“Yeah, that’s good…”  Steve’s torn.  He can barely stand to be in the same room as the scent of delicious home cooking, the glow of the smile on Bucky’s lips.  He feels like the dark cloud around him is going to spread and extinguish it at any moment.  “I’ll be right back; I’m just gonna get changed.”

Upstairs, Steve swaps his khakis for sweats and pulls on a clean t-shirt.  He splashes water on his face and spends seven or eight minutes brushing his teeth, trying desperately to polish himself up in order to be good company.

He should run back down to the kitchen.  Wrap his arms around Bucky from behind, kiss his neck, caress his metal shoulder.  Compliment his cooking skills.  But Steve has enough trouble pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth, the chemical mint flavor bitingly cold on the insides of his cheeks.  He’s freezing.  He feels overly exposed.

Steve pulls on wool socks and the warmest sweater he can find.  It’s one he bought for Bucky after he came off the ice, and Steve almost takes it off, but he stop himself because he really does feel better with it on.  He sits on the edge of the bed and forces a few deep breaths.  Everything’s really alright.  Bucky’s doing well.  The bad events that seem to follow Steve are at least months, if not years and decades into the past.  He just wills himself to get on the same page.

There’s a knock on the door.  Steve quickly glances at the clock and realizes he’s been waffling around for over half an hour.  The doorknob clicks, and Bucky’s face appears with a sliver of light from the hallway. “You ok?” he asks.

“Yeah.”  Steve nods.  He drops his forehead into his palms, as much to avoid eye contact as to address the beginnings of a brewing headache.

“Food’s ready, if you want to eat.”

“Ok.”

“You’re not feeling great,” Bucky whispers.  The mattress sinks down a couple inches as he perches at Steve’s side, his metal arm pressed against Steve’s sweater-clad one.

Steve shakes his head in a weak attempt to disagree.  Nothing’s actually wrong.  Not a single thing’s happened today or this week or this month that should make him sense everything in such an off manner.

“It’s ok,” Bucky says.  “You don’t have to be good with everything all the time.”

“I’m fine,” Steve murmurs.  “There’s nothing wrong.  I mean, nothing happened.”

“Something doesn’t have to happen,” Bucky says.  “It’s ok to just feel bad, you know?”

Bucky, who not so long ago was skittish and mute, is now a sage of wisdom, and Steve’s rock of stability is eroding to sand before his eyes.

“Come eat.  I bet your blood sugar’s low.”  Bucky stands and takes Steve’s hands in his, one warm and one freezing.

“Yeah.  Ok.”

Bucky practically dances him downstairs and heaps a pile of steaming rice onto a plate.  “You want chopsticks?”

Steve doubts he’ll get much down anyway, so he agrees.

The food is delicious, but guilt spoils it slightly as Steve can’t stop silently thinking himself in circles.  He should say something.  Like that Stark is planning a Halloween party.  Or even just thank you for dinner.

Steve follows Bucky into the kitchen and mechanically starts doing the dishes while Bucky sees to the leftovers.

“You don’t have to,” Bucky starts.

“It’s fine.  I want to,” Steve says.  The errant thought that a touch of manual labor will pay penance on his soul dominates his mind.  He imagines his weaker, younger self doing the same thing.  The feminine, weakling chores that are meant for him, and never for Bucky.

Once the kitchen is clean, Bucky asks him what he wants to do.

“I’m just gonna go upstairs,” Steve sighs.

“You want company?”

“Sure.”  He’s not in the mood to mess around, though.  “But not, you know.”

Of course Bucky knows.  Steve hasn’t been in the mood for a couple months now.  Why would anything change now?  He’ll always be the pathetic one…

Between his headache and Bucky’s body heat, Steve’s happy to shut his eyes and pull a curtain on today. He breathes in measured gusts of Bucky’s soap and reminds himself that their partnership is just that. They’re equals.  Strength and vulnerability present as they come.  Bucky doesn’t care if Steve shows a weakness once in a while.  God knows Steve doesn’t mind it when things are the other way around.

Sleep comes easily, and leaves easily also.  They’ve turned in so early that it’s not even midnight when dark and better un-remembered dreams launch a campaign on Steve’s mind.  Cold fingers of terror tear at his limbs, and nausea immediately rises as soon as he snaps open his eyes.

Icy sweat drips down the small of his back as Steve lunges to his feet and makes for the bathroom.  He retches up nothing a few times, then begins to feel grains of rice clinging to the inside of his throat.

“Steve?”  Bucky’s sleepy sounding and imprecise with his movements as he kneels at Steve’s shoulder.

“I’m alright,” Steve chokes out.  He retches hard enough to jar tears from the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, you are,” Bucky affirms in a voice that’s half sarcasm and half truth.  He rubs one hand up and down Steve’s back and rests his chin on his quivering shoulder.  “Whatever you’re feeling is ok.”

Steve vomits again, then forcibly regains control of his body.  He swipes his hand across his lips, and the sleeve of the sweater he’s still wearing scratches against his cheek.  He sits back on his heels, breathing heavily.  “Yeah.  Ok,” he exhales, acutely aware of the labored rise and fall of his chest and the vertigo that still plays around his forehead and ears.

“Come here,” Bucky murmurs.  He guides Steve sideways so his head gently slides to Bucky’s lap.  He cards Steve’s hair with the soft fingers of his right hand and pats Steve’s shoulder with his left.  “You don’t have to feel good, alright?”

Steve breathes slowly in and out, drinking in the touch as he grounds himself in time and space.

“I’m here no matter what.  Just remember that,” Bucky whispers.

And Steve knows it’s true.

#marvel #mcu #captain america #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #sickfic #depression #emeto #emetophilia #heroverse

[iamthegaysmurf]

Whether you're writing them yourself, or collaborating with others, what do you like about the fics you are working on now?

This is a fantastic question, and it has given me a lot to think about.I think with the AU collaborations I’m currently working on, the thing I like most is taking a premise or a prompt and building an entire world to hang it on.  Constructing a setting and designing roles for the characters to fill.  I love the challenge of creating a plot and resolution that fits the new parameters, while still using threads of the most identifying factors that tie it back to the show.  And the challenge of placing the characters within these new roles, but still keeping their primary traits in place that make them inherently who they are, regardless of the new circumstances in which they find themselves.@youreagoodliar and I spend literally hours at a time building these AUs together (our current count as of this morning is 65 fully formed AUs with plots, characters, and relationships all laid out), and if I’m being honest, it is truly one of my favorite things to do.As for the two solo fics I am currently writing that are canon compliant…  Well, that’s an entirely different bag of tricks.  They are both a little different, but have some of the same elements.With I’m Ready (When You’re Ready for Me) – aka Haught’s History – the thing I like best about it is getting to flesh Nicole’s character out.  We got some fantastic scenes with her on screen during the first season, and I really enjoy getting to build on that and give her some more depth.  Where did she come from?  What is her family like?  How did she come to the realization about her sexuality, and what did she go through when she came out?  Why did she want to be a cop?  How does she handle the “quirkiness” of small town calls?  What does she go through when she starts to discover there’s more to this town than meets the eye?  

Most (not all, but most) of the time we got to spend with her on the show was related to her interactions with Waverly.  And now I am doing my best to fill in the gaps.

My newest fic – Let My Demons Lie – takes on a different aspect of the canon world than Haught’s History.  I think the thing I like most about it is that it is allowing me to explore some new mythologies and potential plot lines, without the tighter restrictions of Haught’s History.  Because where HH takes place literally within the framework of the show that we see on screen, the new one goes beyond what we already know.  

Now, that doesn’t mean that I consider it an AU.  I am still keeping it completely set within the canon world with the established canon rules, etc.  And it picks up directly after the events of the finale.  It is simply…  an extension of the canon world.  My own theories or ideas or creations of what could happen next.  A new Big Bad for the BBD to find conflict with.  Fallout from the things that happened in the first season, and how our heroes handle it.  Relationships and magic and new creatures and grey areas.  This fic will have it all.

In fact, when I think about it, Let My Demons Lie could technically be a sequel of some sorts to Haught’s History.  I’m certainly keeping to the canon verse that HH is set in.  And I have a feeling a few of the things I’ve established for Nicole there (primarily her backstory and such) will probably find their way into the new fic, as well.So, yeah.  I think my favorite thing about the new one is the freedom to play around in the sandbox Emily already gave us, without the limitations of what has already transpired on the screen.ANYWAY.  I’m sure this ramble is far longer than what you were originally looking for.  And I apologize for that!  But you asked me what I like about the fics I’m working on and just…  there are so many things!  Each fic is an individual story and has its own set of rules to play by, so I guess I like the unique challenges presented by each one.

I hope this answered your question!  And, please…  always feel free to come into my inbox with questions about the show or the characters or my fics or anything else.  I always love discussing this stuff.  : )

#ask and answer #anon #my fiction #Haught's History #Let My Demons Lie #writing #mine