#think I'll make a tag for book snippets...

[wyvernquill]

Another Dreamling Anastasia AU Snippet

So, this AU somehow gained some new traction over the past few days, and I remembered I still had this in my drafts! It's a direct continuation from the last post - the first time their paths cross, though I think I'll save their actual first conversation (already written!) for the next part. Mostly a lot of background and exposition, but I hope it'll be enjoyable nonetheless! Thanks everyone for your enthusiasm for this AU!!!

(Masterpost here!)

(Tag list, let me know if you want to be added or taken off: @10moonymhrivertam @martybaker @globglobglobglobob @anonymoustitans @sunshines-fabulous-legs @dreamsofapiratelife @malice-royaume @kcsandmanfan @acedragontype @okilokiwithpurpose @tharkuun @silver-dream89 @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch)

(I don't know why it just won't let me do the proper tag sometimes... I hope the people Tumblr refuses to let me tag will see the post anyway, I'm very sorry...)

---

There is a fight just about to break loose at the White Horse Inn.

It will happen because of a man; a pale, stick-thin skinny thing of a man, barely more than an ashen, grimy face under a mop of coal hair balanced on top of a ragged black coat, loitering close to the fireplace and trying not to be too obvious about soaking up its warmth. At his feet, half hidden beneath the torn hem-line of his coat, there is a bird, some sort of corvid, following the other guests - and their purses in particular - with its beady little eyes.

The bird’s master is watching, too, watching the inn’s staff collect coins and shove them into their pockets, watching the plates and bowls of food being carried about, hungry, starving-

And then he’s noticed watching, a barmaid muttering a word or two to the innkeep over by the beer caskets - and the moment the man’s eyes find the stranger, they narrow.

And in turn, the moment the stranger notices the hostile eyes on him, he seems to brace himself, something feral in the way his lips draw back from his teeth as the innkeep makes a beeline for him through the crowded pub.

Words are exchanged.

Words are exchanged, loudly.

An arm is grabbed - and the bird jumps up with an angry caw, beating its wings at the innkeep’s face, and the scullery boy runs over to help, as does the burliest of the barmaids.

(There’s that fight now.)

The stranger shouts and scratches and twists as he is dragged through the common room, towards the door, growling profanities in a hoarse, dark voice, while his bird squawks, wrapped in the scullery boy’s apron.

It’s a right mess, but perhaps not an unusual one - the White Horse makes quick work of unruly drunkards (and those who are here to pilfer money rather than spend it), and even as some guests are following the fight in fascination and with half a mind to join in just for the pleasure of throwing a punch, most of their clientele barely spares them a look. Soon, the stranger will be cast out into the cold and the night again, far away from the warmth of a fireplace, or the smell of food, or opportunities for thievery. Nothing special. Soon, it will be just a quiet evening, like any other…

If it weren’t for the fact that, over in the far corner, a familiar man, and a familiar something-altogether-else still managing a rather sound impression of one, have been nursing their drinks for a good hour already, trying to drown their failures in ale.

(The humans have robbed Destiny of his powers, torn his realm from him, burned his book - but destiny still shapes the lives of mortals and immortals alike; and it is that power, which makes Robert Gadling look up from the sad remains of his beer, and, for just a fraction of a second, lock eyes with the vagabond currently in the process of being removed from the premises.

That is enough.

With just one look, the wheels of fate are already set in motion, and our story can begin in earnest.)

"Hey, Gil." Hob nudges Gilbert's arm, not taking his eyes off the struggling, furious stranger. "Over there. Look."

"Hm?" Gilbert blinks owlishly, following Hob's nod to the commotion behind him. "Oh, yes, yes. Ghastly, isn't it? Disgraceful, that some hoodlums cannot conduct themselves in public houses with the appropriate decorum - in my days, I tell you, when the Endless were still-"

"No, look!" Hob cuts him off. "The hoodlum. Look at him, really look."

"Hrmmm," Gilbert makes a sound of polite displeasure, and fiddles with his circular little glasses, peering through them and across the room, where the haggard stranger is spitting abuse at the innkeep even as he is in the process of being shoved out of the door.

And then, "oh, good lord!" Gilbert gasps, and drops his glasses.

"You see it too, then?"

"I… yes. Gracious, yes. Like a ghostly apparition." Gilbert gropes for his glasses with one hand, eyes never leaving the stranger. "The physical resemblance - most uncanny. A good deal more malnourished and, ah… rather grimy, it seems… and yet, overall…"

"A dead ringer for Dream of the Endless, isn't he?" Hob finishes, nodding. “Better than any of the men that auditioned for us, certainly.”

“Heaven help,” Gilbert’s voice is weak with emotion, “even knowing it isn’t him, I feel like… ah, Robert, if he were only given a bath, some better garb… it would be as if His Lordship walked again!”

“Would be?” Hob’s grin is bright and hungry, like a hunting dog smelling his prey, as he pushes himself up from his seat. “Will be!”

“-and if I see either you or yer blasted bird thievin’ in here again," the innkeep snarls, tossing first the haggard stranger, and then a squawking bundle of black feathers, out into the snow. “I’m callin’ the coppers! Y’hear?”

The word the stranger spits back, gathering all his limbs and his dark coat around himself as he staggers to his feet and off into the night, is so filthy even Hob would blush upon saying it. A bit rough around the edges, this man, not exactly the model of a fairytale king - but such things can be taught, can’t they. Hob’s seen a production of Shaw’s Pygmalion, years ago, and if Higgins can make a fine lady out of a flower girl, then Hob and Gil can make a Dream Lord out of some vagabond.

“Begging your pardon, good man.” Hob leans against the doorframe, watching the stranger’s dark shape angrily stomp off through the snow, bird hopping along at his side. “Howsabout this, a shilling for anything you can tell me about the man you just tossed out of your establishment.”

“Whot, Murphy!?” The innkeep blinks. 

Holds out his hand.

Hob dutifully deposits one of his last few shillings in it.

“Thank you kindly, sir, much obliged.” A tip of the hat, and the coin disappearing in the innkeep’s pocket. “Murphy’s one of the local beggars. A filthy thief, too, and no mistake. He’s trained that raven of his into it - heard the city even pays him some little pittance to control the birds in the area! They wouldn’t do it if they knew what he was doing with ‘em. I don’t like seein’ him around the Horse, not with the trouble he’s causing. Stealing leftover scraps from tables I can forgive, might even give him a full meal now and then in the name of charity - but if he goes for the pockets of my regulars, the regulars don’t come back, understand? Can’t have that.”

“Course not.” Hob agrees readily. “Bad for business, a pickpocket.”

“Just so, sir. He’s been in the London area for… oh, eight, nine, maybe ten years? Hasn’t got a trade, not very willing to do an honest day’s work in any case, can’t hold down a job for the life of him as a result. Still thinks himself better than the rest o’ us, anyway. I’d leave him alone, if I were you - he’s vicious as all Hell, bit the kitchen boy once and the lad needed to get his arm stitched up afterwards. And that raven - the thing’s a demon, swear to God. A familiar, like witches have. If we were livin’ in a less civilised age, they’d’ve strung old Murphy up for witchcraft and devilry years ago!”

Hob hums thoughtfully. “Do you know if he has fallen in with that crowd? Not idle hearsay, mind, but facts. There’s still some men in London who practise the Old Arts, does he meet with them?”

(Hob has heard that the old Magus of Wych Cross died perhaps a year or two after his greatest accomplishment; for all his powers that tore Endless spectres from their lofty thrones, in the end he couldn’t defend himself against his own son finally snapping, smothering him in his sleep, and running off with the gardener. Good riddance to the old goat, in Hob’s opinion - but he had a good handful of supporters in every major city, and they can’t all have died with him.)

The innkeep takes his time answering, staring out into the softly-falling snow.

“...not that I know of, sir.” He finally says, cautiously. “He doesn’t meet with anyone, really, ‘xcept the birds. Solitary type, is our Murphy, with no family, and no-one to miss him if he freezes himself to death some night. But.”

A pause.

“There’s something wrong about that man, if you ask me. He has a look in his eyes… whatever it is, it’s not natural. Might be magic. Might be madness. I really couldn’t say.”

“I see.” Gears are turning in Hob’s head, puzzle pieces slotting into place, plans unfolding.

A man sleeping rough, with nobody to miss him or know much of him, fierce and angry and constantly on the brink of starvation, looking just like Dream. A diamond in the rough, and quite possibly desperate enough to actually agree to their mad plan just for a few weeks of guaranteed food and a roof over his head.

Dear God. He’s perfect.

“One more question, about Murphy.” Hob beams, half-giddy. “Where do you think I could find him, say… tomorrow?”

The innkeep’s eyebrows rise up into his hair.

“Can’t see why you’d ever want to,” he mutters into his beard. “But very well. On your head be it.”

He names a nearby small park, where Murphy often goes to feed his birds, and is rewarded for it with another tuppence; and then Hob saunters back to his and Gil’s table, already feeling like he can almost taste the promise of eternal life on the tip of his tongue.

(“We cannot know for certain that he will agree, Robert. He sounds like a most prideful young man - he is much like His Lordship in that regard as well, I suppose.”

“Oh, he’ll agree. I’ve been where he is, Gil, and there were times I would’ve sold my own mother to the devil for a warm meal and a bed to sleep in. Not that the devil would’ve taken the old bat even if I’d paid him, of course, but it’s the principle of the thing.”

“That hardly makes it much better. We’d be taking advantage of the poor man’s unfortunate situation!”

“Everyone’s situation is unfortunate these days. And we’d be improving his, on the whole, along with ours.”

“Let it be noted, dear fellow, that I am voicing my ethical and moral quandaries.”

“I really don’t think our plan to scam the Endless is very ethical in the first place, Gil.”

“...now that I cannot possibly argue with.”

“There we are then.”

“However! You will have to be the one to suggest it. I will help you instruct him and present him to the Endless if you do convince him - but for now, I wash my hands of the matter.”

“Fair enough.”)

#WyWrites #dreamling #the sandman #anastasia dreamling au #i hope i will put the next part up with less delay instead of just forgetting it in my drafts again... #my tumblring habits truly are atrocious sometimes #but i really like the next bit so i have some motivation to share it soon! #especially because there's been so much new interest in the past 24 hours or so #thank you everyone! it made me really happy!!! #the least i can do is provide some actual hob-murphy interactions in the next bit (plus some matthew because he's lovely)

[starscribes]

StarScribes Introduction

About Me

Star (she/her)

Married

Middle School Teacher

I have a lot of responsibilities and don't get much time to myself but when I do I spend that time watching TV, writing, reading, playing D&D, playing video games (the Sims 4), and spending casual time with my family

US located

I used to be @houndsofcorduff but then I disappeared and started a simblr blog and now it's time to get on writeblr again

Writing

Mostly fantasy of varying levels, although I have dabbled in science fiction (I like to watch sci-fi more than write it - that's where my name came from actually, the Stargate franchise)

My favorite author is Brandon Sanderson

No, I don't think I'll ever publish anything, just scribe vibing

I love worldbuilding, magic system building, monster building, etc

Warning: I rarely finish anything I start

Blog

Ask game, tag game, ask, etc friendly

Reblogging stuff I like about writing

Posting snippets of my own writing

Participating in Nanowrimo (buddy me: stargatetribe)

Main/Simblr: @starandsims

Thanks for visiting and learning about me!

WIPs under the cut

Current WIP

Crescent Unbound - A stand-alone fantasy novel following Astrid Vale, a girl left orphaned by the last battle between good and evil. 20 years later she awakens an artifact with great power, it whispers of the return of evil. She must return it to the Chosen One so that it can be used to banish evil once again, but the quest is not as easy as it may seem.

Main Series: The Destiny Chronicles

Overall Synopsis: A generational series that follows a variety of supernatural beings: The Devlins (monster hunters); Seers (see the future), Sandmen (travel/control dreams), Mages (control a variety of magics), Cruth (control elements), and hybrids. Follows certain individuals chosen by Destiny to stop a great evil, and involves a lot of crossover until the end when everyone meets up for the big bad battle.

Book One: Retrospection - 1976 Earth - Russell Walker is a 16-year-old Seer dating Alexis Devlin a 16-year-old monster hunter. When she reveals his identity as a Seer and subsequently explains he's being hunted by a Seer-eating monster, they run away together - unfortunately not to fall in love but rather to save his life.

Book Two: Otherworld - 2007 Otherworld - Maxine Devlin was born into a family of monster hunters, but after 17 years she still hasn’t been allowed to fulfill that role. She has read every journal her ancestors have written and knows everything there is to know about monsters…or so she thinks. After her uncle and cousin go missing, she takes it upon herself to investigate and find them. Very quickly she finds herself in over her head as she travels to a dimension called Otherworld, where she discovers there is much more to magic than she once assumed.

Book Three: Shades of Night - 2010 Shadow - Sebastian Devlin has been to other dimensions before - technically just the one other than the one he was born in. That doesn't make it any easier though when he's dragged through a portal by the monster he's hunting. On his own this time, he'll have to find a way home, if that's even possible. Before he can do that though, he'll have to solve this new dimensions monster problem.

Book Four: Lost in Atlantis - 2011 Atlantis - The Devlin family is back together on a special mission to search the dimension of Atlantis for a particularly dangerous monster - the one that's been hunting Sebastian. The dimension of Atlantis has been abandoned for centuries, but almost immediately they find a single survivor, an impossible face from the past.

Book Five: Vengeance at the Door - 2013 Earth - Sebastian Devlin the monster hunter has become the hunted, chased across multiple states and dimensions by a horrifying visage either of his imagination or reality. Now in Boston, he's just trying to live off the radar of any monster or creature. As the patients at the mental hospital where he works begin to see the same visages he's been seeing, does he run again? Or get himself slaughtered?

Book Six: Heartwood - 2015 Shadow - Janina Heartwood is a good little sister, she picks food off of her brother's plate, puts leaves in his hair, sticks up for him, and trusts him to the edge of the world. After a mysterious man reveals that her brother, Jake, is adopted and descended from a line of monster hunters called the Devlins, she follows him to another dimension to protect him. Now she, Jake, and her boyfriend, Ethan, find themselves trying to destroy an evil entity known as the Sluagh. Janina fights shapeshifters, gremlins, pirates, and more to protect her brother, but will it be enough?

Book Seven: Bring Me a Dream - 2015 Earth - Reynolds McNeil is a Sandman slowly turning into a Nightmare just trying to live out his final few months keeping his friends out of trouble and protecting his little sister from his scary world. Instead, he gets kidnapped and taken to an underground fight ring for augmented humans like himself.

Book Eight: Dream Treader - 2016 Unnamed Dimension - Rescued at the last second by their thought-to-be dead brother, Reynolds and Louie discover there's a lot more to their strange powers than they thought. Things continue to get complicated as they are hunted by a different kind of enemy determined to rid the world of Destiny's chosen - them and their friends.

Book Nine: Moonlight Dreams - 2017 multiple dimensions - Still on the run but now without their leader, Reynolds and his friends try to learn everything they can about why they're being hunted. In the process they rescue their leader, who now must accept that it's time to start the endgame and bring together all of Destiny's chosen before they're hunted down.

Book Ten: Among Infinities - 2017 Isfyd - Carson has lived his entire life in the middle of a Civil War, and most of that was on the wrong side. Although he's on the right side now there are few who believe he's anything other than a spy. When Carson discovers there is a real spy out there he must discover the spy's identity before he's found guilty himself.

Book Eleven: Diplopia - 2018 Isfyd - Carson, now a prisoner of his mother and in the process of resisting her brainwashing, discovers this isn't the first time she's brainwashed him or erased his memories. Exploring his memories and his old home reveals answers and more questions.

Book Twelve: Splintered Crown - 2019 Earth- Freshly rescued, Carson and his friends flee to Earth to find the one thing that can stop his mother and her army - a girl with no idea who she is or how to use her powers, and absolutely no interest in joining their rebellion.

Book Thirteen: Destiny - 2020 Earth - Earth is invaded by soldiers from Isfyd, it will take all of Destiny's chosen to defeat the great evil they've been waiting for. The Devlins, the McNeils, the Moons, and Carson and his friends are the only chance this dimension has. It's looking increasingly like it won't be enough.

Other WIPs

Hounds of Corduff - 1800s Isfyd - A four-book series following the three Cruth apprentices of Corduff as they battle with and against each other in the middle of propaganda and other lies forcing them each further away from the truth.

The Elder Mage - 1976 - 2015 Various dimensions - a series of short stories following Denham Moon, who some would call Earth's most powerful mage. He's been entrusted with bringing together Destiny's chosen at the appropriate time, but he's mostly just procrastinating since he's pretty sure he won't make it through that appropriate time.

Old Gods - a 9-book series following Em'het, a curious and multi-talented boy with great magics who fights the gods to save his family, but after several years of doing the same thing over and over again he wonders if there's a point to any of it if the gods he faces just keep getting stronger and smarter.

Prince of Fireflies - a TV series that follows teenage twins Charlie and Riley as they attempt to keep their younger brother Liam out of trouble with his mysterious light powers. They're mostly unsuccessful.

The Peculiar Adventures of Michael Mallory - an unnumbered book series that follows 9-year-old Michael Mallory after he sneaks aboard his older brother's spaceship. While in the process of trying to return Michael, Nicholas Mallory and his crew are attacked and forced to hyperjump without their navigation machines online. Now they're lost in space, who knows how far from home, and somehow raising a 9-year-old.

The Disappearing Place - just one book - 12-year-old Martin Ramsey has a bad habit of disappearing, blinking in and out of existence seemingly at random. His brother Bartholomew tries to help but ends up making things worse when he starts disappearing too. In a wacky time-traveling dilemma the brothers have to figure out what is happening and why to try and get back home, while continually randomly jumping in and out of time and space.

#writeblr #writeblr introduction #writeblr intro #fantasy writing #writer introduction #writer intro #writers of tumblr #novel writing #author #fiction #original fiction #original characters #writing community

[sugar-omi]

Hi Naeomi 👋

Thank you for replying to my inquiry so diligently (omg, me trying to sound like Baxter XD dead)!

For my Baxter request, I want to understand his character more, so I wanna pick ur brain for some ideas 😄

He is a very considerate person as his approach to the MC's comfort level changes between nervous, relaxed, and direct (i think 🤔😅). I just want to know how he reacts with an MC (on crush/love) who is only anxious around him but relaxed with everyone else. MC would be trying to fluster the crap out of Cove and talking excitedly about nerdy stuff (anime/manga, video games, books, random facts on their interests, a tv series, etc.), but when Baxter comes around they simmer down and smile all giddy his way and talk about stuff they he may like or be interested in.

Honestly, my MC would feel a bit unsure how to act around Baxter at first, but eventually, they become more comfortable over time as he is revealed to be easygoing and welcoming to MC's quirky side. Makes my heart flutter just thinking about it, so cute~ 🥰☺️

hii !!! omg your mc sounds so cute n honestly like me when I was younger lol, so sweet<33 excuse to the format I'm on mobile rn and I'll fix text color n format n stuff once I'm on my computer😎👍👍👍👍honestly i had fun writing this, two darlings taking their time to open up n love each other, embracing each others quirks... its so sweet, pls i feel like i could write another lil drabble abt how happy n cute baxter would be w a playful reader like this, mmm many thoughts

tags : fluff, nervous crush/love status w baxter, multiple choice text, headcanons/drabbles

*edited for format

this man is too cocky for his own good, baxter can easily tell how someone feels about him.

but I think that excludes people he has a crush on, as you couldn't possibly like/love him back.

he has some shame! although it's only enough to not assume everyone is in love with him or likes him in any capacity...

anyway, we'll get to that later~

at first he thinks it's because you want to impress him or maybe you don't want to bore him with what you think is brain rot to someone so mature and elegant as him.

(+ a "small" but darker part of him thinks you might hate him, that you don't want to show a piece of yourself to this weird stranger on your block. he squishes the thought)

so he finds out your interest through terri/terry and by spying on snippets of your conversations with your family or with cove.

and even though he will only admit it if you threaten him with something terrifying, like angry dragons, early mornings, or worse- color. then and only then will he admit he wants you to tease him the same way you do with cove.

you're so close with him, snuggling up to cove's side, and you smirk so tantalizingly as you lean i. close to whisper it in his ear, and you say something dirty or perhaps its something cove finds especially scandalous but now cove is blushing and he's pushing you away with a chastising "y/n!"

and baxter wishes it was him...

he wants you to curl up behind him and blow on his ear the way you do cove. he wants you to pinch his butt as he walks by and he wants you to flirt with him.

and he wants you to show up on his temporary doorstep to show him your favorite volume of a manga that you finally got your hands on.

and when baxter is a hopeless romantic because he's so vulnerable under the blanket of night, he imagines you laying next to him in this big bed and he imagines the music is blending in with your voice as you babble on about something before it drifts off into your soft breath when you fall asleep due to the late hour.

but time goes on and his vacation nears the quarter mark and whenever you two talk he notices that you are getting into some of the things he likes, like rock music, and when you see him walking lazily back to his condo you come rushing off the steps of your porch, abandoning your snickering moms, and showing baxter the new song you found that he had not listened to before.

you light up at the praise in a way that makes him wish he could capture it forever...

finally baxter comes to the conclusion that he should speak to you about the things you like, and the first time he mentions something about your hobby you clam up a bit.

you don't want to bore him or scare him off with your excitement but in the end you're showing him your craft/collection and telling him every shiny detail and he's so happy to watch the light in your eyes as you speak.

eventually though you two get to the point where you try to fluster him.

it's not often, baxter makes you far too nervous and he can see anything coming from a mile away. he's so cool and you love him for it but God is his smirking face irritating when you just want him to blush, giggle and kick his feet like a love sicken school girl.

but you finally get him to flush. it takes more than half his vacation for it to happen but you're standing behind him as he works away at plating the dinner you two cooked up together.

it's simple, both of you combined have the cooking skills of a sea turtle but it's good enough for one night and it's edible.

it's good enough, you know your way around a stove well enough not to burn the house down and with baxter as your assistant you're more focused on how fun it was than anything.

it's perfect, you know how to whip up something delicious and baxter did more chopping and passing of the seasonings than anything.

he doesn't process it at first but then it hits him like a ton of bricks.

you just... said something flirty?

he's short circuting and his ears are red, and baxter pretends that his blush isn't spread down to his neck.

it's such a reward for you, you can't help but gape for a moment because baxter alexander ward is walking away from you with a blush from his ears to below the collar of his shirt and he definitely squealed a bit when he beckoned you to the living room.

it takes a whole summer of talking to you about things you like that he has little or no knowledge in, doing an activity that caters to/is apart of your interest, and soothing you when you cut yourself off when talking (it's okay, he does want to hear whatever you're looking to ramble about, be it something exciting, something that happened when practicing your hobby, or venting about something you thought was terrible or sad in a show/comic you saw earlier that week.)

and he finally gets to a point where you're teasing him a bit more often, even if you don't get the flustered reaction you want, and you're taking a page out of cove's book and the two of you spent a secret night in baxter's condo, talking about everything and nothing all at the same time.

but then he leaves, and he let's you down gently but his rejection stabs like a knife anyway.

so when you meet again, half a decade later, baxter feels his heart fall out his stomach so bad he sucks it in to try and make up for the way his heart clocks out and air leaves his lungs...

you look sad. this wasn't what you either of you were expecting to be faced with and having no time to prepare yourself to face the man who ended your relationship that summer has your eyes glassed over and your fingers dig into your skin to ground yourself.

you look indifferent. somehow that hurts more than if you were sad or angry at him, not that he'd prefer it but the smaller part of him thinks that your empty gaze shows he's lost any part in your life and you stare through him like you can see the rawness of his heart...

your face is schooled into a stony expression and you've folded your arms to match the rest of tour cold posture. he can't tell what you're thinking even though he's searching your eyes and this time baxter can't tell if you want to cry, scream at him, or if you're looking past him to the scenic view. but he sees your fingers twitch, like you want to either grab him by his tie or run.

you look angry. you try to mask it, not wanting to display the unadulterated rage you feel but your lip quirks up and your eyes are sharp and the words that escape your lips lick at baxter's ears like fire. if your thunderous glare could kill a man he'd be a goner..

he knows he's fucked up either way.

and the whole time you're working together, you're distant. although sometimes you snap back, you confront him and you joke with him sometimes.

you're both too nostalgic, you're both too in love.

somehow, you let him start over.

perhaps its the nostalgia and sentiment that came from making the groom cake together, or how beautiful scott and jude's wedding went, or perhaps its the way the other person laughs and smiles that has you drunk.

but now you two are sitting on baxter's couch and you're letting him start over.

he messed up, it's something hard to move past. something you did, for better or for worse but now it's for the better and you're moving on together.

and you're almost as nervous as you were when you first met but this time it's more that you're reserved than anything else.

sometimes he thinks he's fucked up too much, that when you cut yourself short while rambling and when you take more interest in his hobbies than your own, baxter puts a stop to it quickly.

it takes while. you both try too much to insert yourself into the other person's likes, as if that will make the comfortable relationship you had once come back quicker.

but finally, you and baxter are sharing a bed in the middle of your new apartment, and you're laughing about something funny Miranda sent you earlier that day and in the morning you two are spinning around your new kitchen in a guideless dance with your hands intertwined and you're laughing...

and baxter loves both versions of you.

the version of you that's so in love with him you quiet down, letting him take up all the space in the world and the other version of you that rants about something stupid in an anime and pinches his pale thigh when he's searching through his messy pile of clothes for that one specific shirt.

and he's so happy you opened up to him and you still open up to him everyday, loving him the same no matter how shy you are that day <333

#our life: beginnings & always #olba #baxter ward #baxter ward x reader #our life baxter #olba baxter #baxter x reader #baxter x mc #baxter ward x mc

[justabigoldnerd]

Thank you so much @cha-melodius for the tag!!!!

So because where I'm at in TFSTTTWLTWIA is......spicy..... I'll give you a snippet from one of two Library AU fics I plan to write, both based on things that have actually happened at my job 😆 Shout out to @yallwildinrn for throwing ideas back and forth with me for the second one, and to the fic "Scenes From Bay Ridge Public Library" by @too-young-to-fall-in-love (StuckIn85 on Ao3) for showing me that there is indeed a way to shove my blorbos into a library setting LMAO

"Never Fall In Love With A Stranger"

His brow is knit in concentration and he is bent over the desk, carefully applying a protective adhesive cover to a paperback. The barely-blue button up he wears is rolled up to his elbows, and as he shifts his weight to readjust, Illya's eyes are drawn down across his broad shoulders to where the shirt dips at the small of his back. The dark navy slacks he's wearing hug his form, and good lord, does he have the ass and thighs of a Greek God. He's tall, too; towering over his coworkers like Illya does. His hair, styled out of the natural curl Illya can see hints of, is black as ink, and a silken lock has fallen free into his eyes. Illya finds that he wants to gently tuck that strand back into place and that terrifies him. What terrifies him more is when Joanna returns and directs the stranger's attention to Illya. Illya's heart drops into his stomach. The stranger flashes him a smile that nearly knocks Illya off his feet, then approaches the computer closest to him. “Hey there, what can I help you with today?” he rattles off a clearly rehearsed script. “Uhm,” Illya swallows down the lump in his suddenly dry throat, “I am going to heritage department. Don't need help.” The stranger's eyes widen almost imperceptibly at Illya's voice, no doubt surprised by his still-thick accent. They're a deep shade of blue, like the Baltic Sea, but in that imperceptible widening, Illya thinks he could see an imperfection in one. The pupil a size larger, maybe. It's hidden away again too fast for him to make it out. “Well,” the new face drawls in a tone that says that Illya has been quiet for far too long, “Let me know if that changes.”

I want you all to know that I got this particular idea while at work and didn't have my phone so I had to scribble it down on a piece of scratch paper and hide it in my pocket 😆

Transcription: "Library AU: Solo = Library Reference Assistant / 5 + 1 Times Illya sees him bend over / First is putting cover on book"

No pressure tagging @yallwildinrn @huggiebird @pippinoftheshire @nicijones @heytheredeann and anyone else who wants to join!!!

#tmfu #the man from uncle #tmfu movie #illya kuryakin #napoleon solo #napollya #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #wip wednesday #tag game

[maddstermind]

Words Into Potions Intro! Introducing...

~ Auberon Academy: Dark Things ~

Title: Auberon Academy (Book Three) - Dark Things Genre: Fantasy Mystery/Thriller Summary: Ashton and Sutton's quest to find the missing king is coming to a close, but not in the way they expected; Rosamund works with her loved ones to craft a way to finally get a step ahead of their enemies; Addison sets sail for Rasduk in hopes of finding a cure for petrification; and Christie returns from winter break to a terrible betrayal.

The strings of fate binding the four together are drawing closer and closer, as the mastermind is finally revealed and a specter is finally unmasked. The end is drawing near, and it's time to prepare for war.

Here is the tag I use for all Aubie-related things!

Below the cut I have a snippet for you! (From book two, as book three is not yet written!)

     Darkness.       It was oppressive and all-encompassing, making it hard to breathe or think, let alone move. Trapped with a dozen other small bodies, unprepared for the destruction that came with magic. A manifestation that came several years too early, spelling doom for them all.      Behind the fear, there was still a lingering feeling. It was almost indescribable, and had simply been labeled "dark." It was a different darkness than that which surrounded the group, but persistent nonetheless. It had been persistent for some time now, hunting somewhere in the forest at the base of the mountain.      Just as hope was fading and the darkness was on the verge of becoming permanent, there it was — light, bright and welcoming like an old friend. Then came desperate hands and arms, pulling the small, fragile bodies out of the rubble. One by one they tumbled out and went running to their parents, scared that their short lives were nearly ended in an accident.      And then there was the culprit. He was pulled from the rubble by a hand that shone with the light of the suns, yet was cold to the touch. Their body was similarly bright but cold, and a sword hung off their side, the sharp blade hidden in its sheath, away from the curious fingers of children. Despite their cold exterior, they looked at the child with the fondness of a father, of a friend. A handsome, unmarred face, friendly eyes, and dark hair with pale streaks running through it.      They looked like a hero. Something out of a fairytale. Someone who had helped already — and could maybe help more.      He grabbed the cold, shining hand and kept the hero in place. "Please," his voice came out as little more than a whisper, after all the yelling and heavy breathing he'd done in the last however long. "Please, I need your help."      They kneeled, holding his hand gently. "Let's find your parents, yes? You'll be safe with them."      He shook his head. "There's something in the forest."      "Something in the forest?"      "I can feel it. I've been feeling it. It's… I don't know what it is. It's something dark. In the forest, by the mountain."      "Something dark," they repeated, solemn. "Well, let me tell you this, child." They put their free hand on his shoulder, and gave a bright smile, full of teeth. "Not all dark things are bad."      Their words calmed him, despite everything. He was still afraid, but less than he'd been before. He still trembled, but less so.      The hero stood, dusting themself off. "How about this. I'll go check it out now. Just to make sure it's nothing dangerous. Alright?"      He nodded. "I can take you there," he offered. "I can feel it, I can follow it."      They shook their head, looking to the treeline. "No, you need to go home and rest up. You've had a tough day, but you've done a good job and have been very brave. I'll stop by once I've found out what it was. Alright?"      Looking up at them, he believed they could do anything in the world.      "Alright."

This is the prologue of book two, but it's where the phrase "dark things" starts in the series, so I thought it'd be a good excerpt!

#MS: WIP Intro #boberon #writeblr stuff #ch: POV Quartet #wip intro

[atonalginger]

WIP Wednesday and a big update to Reclaiming Home

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

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

--

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

“Changes are scary,” Frost agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have,” Frost nodded, “I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” Frost nodded.

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

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

“Yeah,” Cora looked over.

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

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

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

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

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

[signiorbenedickofpadua]

Lecturing, please!

(For the WIP tag game, list of titles in the og WIP game post here.)

But of course! Several of you asked about this one, so I put a quick summary of the premise as well as a snippet from the fic in PART ONE, and I'll give you a continuation of that snippet here in part two, and perhaps the mystery of the identity of the handsome stranger might even be revealed in PART THREE!

Enjoy!

PART TWO

All this changed one day when Hob asked the class if anyone remembered what the first known book to be published by William Caxton was and was met by total silence. This was not an entirely unusual occurrence, but it usually happened only when he asked them about something actually obscure. “What, none of you remember?” he asked, then when his only response was a few head shakes, he added, “Did none of you do the assigned reading this week? Not a single one?”

Even if that was true, someone should have known that piece of trivia, surely? What did they teach the youth of today? There was some murmuring amongst the students, then one of the less shy ones piped up, saying, “I don’t think you assigned us anything for this week.” “Didn’t I?” He tried to think back to the end of the lecture last week and realised that no, he hadn’t said anything about it. He had been a bit tired last week. Actually, he was always a bit tired by this point in the week. Fridays right after lunch was not his favourite time to lecture. “Whoops, must have slipped my mind to mention it. Let this serve as a lesson to regularly check the schedule and instructions online and not rely fully on my reminders.” Some more uncomfortable whispering followed this, and another student said, “Um, it’s not actually online either.” She held up her phone as proof, as if he could read the text on the screen at that distance. He’d have to take her word for it. “Christ, all right. My bad. I humbly retract my scolding. I’ll look over it later to make sure it’s fully updated in future.” As he was mentally rewriting the next part of the lecture in light of his oversight, he was interrupted by a voice saying, “The Canterbury Tales.” It was a deep, rich, velvety voice which Hob couldn’t place for the life of him. He blinked, returning to the there and then. “Sorry?” “Caxton’s first major publication,” the voice clarified, and Hob looked over to see that it was Mr Front Row who had spoken up, because of course the man would have the most gorgeous voice to go along with his looks, just to torture Hob. “It was The Canterbury Tales. 1476, if memory serves.” Tired as he was, Hob had to look down at his notes to confirm this. “That’s…absolutely right. Huh.” He nodded at the man, then gave the rest of the class a pointed look. “At least one of you read ahead, eh?” he said, trying to put a humorous spin on it. There were a few scattered chuckles among the students, but the man did not smile—he very rarely did. However, the corner of his mouth twitched in a way which suggested that he was not far off. As Hob resumed his lecturing, he tried not to feel too pleased about making the man almost-smile, because no. Nope. Nuh-uh. Donotgo there. Not a good place to go at all. Best to just put it all out of mind and forget he ever heard that fucking voice. Given how quiet the man had been up until now, he’d likely not hear it again in a hurry. Hopefully. Unfortunately.

#ask games #wip game #tag games #my writing #snippets

[sidekick-hero]

WIP Wednesday Game

I was tagged by @augustjustice for WIP Weekend (which I missed, sorry!) and @hbyrde36 - thank you guys (gn)! 💜💜💜

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited! If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

The WIPs

Summer Exchange Fic (won't be able to share lines but I appreciate the peer pressure 💜)

End of Beginning

Hold my like a grudge (last part of hold me close (I'm shaking apart))

The next part of @chooseyourownsteddie

Have their first meeting from End of Beginning under the cut

“I’m begging you to get a second opinion. I know they'll tell you the same thing I'm telling you: Go. For. It."

Robin emphasizes her last words by pounding the table with each one, attracting the attention of more than one patron in the busy downtown Chicago bar where they have settled. They each have a drink in front of them, but while Steve hasn't touched his beer since Robin began her impassioned speech about him taking a chance on his future, his best friend has just cleaned up her Dirty Shirley.

"I promise I'll get a second opinion when we get home, Robs." Steve uses his most rational voice, the one that hopefully says, 'No, I'm not scared shitless and putting off a decision as long as possible until it's too late and I don't have to decide anymore.'

He's not sure it'll work, too many years of living in each other's pockets and too few boundaries between them mean that even on her way to being plastered, Robin can read him like a book.

Her eyes narrow at him, her lips form a thin and determined line, and Steve knows that whatever's coming, he's not going to like it. But before he can say anything more, Robin slips out of her booth and walks over to the bar, where a group of men about their age are standing and chatting. She grabs one of them by the arm and practically drags him over to where Steve is sitting, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide in horror.

The guy whose arm is still caught in Robin’s surprisingly strong grip gapes back at him, clearly at a loss what just happened. Uncaring for their predicament, Robin uses her unoccupied hand to point at Steve.

"Listen, you have to tell him that this is his chance, but he has to take it, even if it's scary." She demands of the stranger, who blinks at her and then at Steve like a deer in the headlights. He does look a bit like a deer with his big brown doe eyes, and of course it's Steve's luck that he's making a fool of himself in front of a hot guy.

He looks at the poor guy who has been unwillingly drawn into their argument and tells him, "I'm so, so sorry, she doesn't usually drink, so she's a total lightweight. She's mostly harmless, I promise."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of 'mostly harmless.' She doesn't look it, but my arm is starting to go numb from her grip." Doe Eyes replies in a deep, whiskey-smooth voice, and Steve thinks he wouldn't mind hearing it recite a dictionary as long as the guy keeps talking.

No pressure but much love: @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe, @matchingbatbites, @shares-a-vest, @puppy-steve, @corrodedbisexual, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

#wip wednesday #steddie #steddie fanfic #my writing

[aurevell]

Snippet Sunday

Spent half the morning working on my Steter Hallmark Special, sooo:

“No. We’re not doing anything,” Stiles says slowly, leaning back in his chair. “Peter doesn’t really celebrate, I don’t think.” “What?” Scotty sounds as surprised as Stiles did. “Are you sure?” “Heard it from the horse’s mouth. The werewolf’s. Whatever.” “Could have fooled me. I mean, don’t the Hales have that massive Christmas party every year? Alpha Hale was looking at envelopes for the invites when we met last week. They special-ordered some kind of giant tree.” Stiles knows this, but he doesn’t want to think about it now. Despite Peter’s usual sarcasm and misanthropy, Stiles thought the guy might mellow out at least a little this time of year. He was kind of looking forward to spending the holidays with Peter, and maybe figuring out whatever their version of holiday-related things would end up being. Spite-watching corny movies or stealing yard decorations or something. Clearly, that’s a moot point now. “Nope. Not really his scene. And anyway, I dunno if we’re really at that stage, even if he did do Christmas stuff.” “Could have fooled me,” Scott repeats. He sounds troubled. “You guys seem…I mean, you both take off the second we go over for pack stuff. You turn into your own little unit.” “I guess. But it’s just chill. You know. Still seeing how things go.” “You’ve been saying that for months, Stiles. It doesn’t seem casual.” It doesn’t sometimes. He and Peter hang out a lot, but even so—their hangouts are still supposed to be laid back. Commitment free. It’s not like they’re going to expensive restaurants or booking holiday trips together. They’re not meeting each other’s families (or at least not outside of a formal pack setting). As far as Stiles knows, they’re not even buying Christmas gifts for each other. It’s just…casual. That was selling point right from the start, anyway, but their relationship has grown a lot from the early days of sneaking behind their alphas’ backs. It's become something much bigger, something much more prominent in Stiles’s life. But that doesn’t make it any more clearly defined. If there’s one thing he knows, though, it’s that Peter isn’t looking for much. He gets this weird face whenever Stiles suggests anything that could be even vaguely interpreted as serious. Or, you know, genuine. And Stiles isn’t about to push. “It is,” Stiles says firmly. “It’s no big deal. I'll just do stuff on my own without him.”

No-pressure tags &lt;;3 @mirrorthoughts @beaconfeels @dear-massacre @lucky-bishop @midmorning-bomb

#wip

[ladykailitha]

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

My only problem is that I tend to file name what the title is so I can find it easier, so...here’s what they were called before I titled them.

"File" Names

Boy w/a Bat Book 2

Werewolf Steve

Steve in a Metal Band

Sweet Home Alabama fusion

Snippet

You know, I've never been sure if I could post a snippet from a story I finished in the 7 days or if it still had to be a WIP. Hmmm...tell me what you think? I'll keep to WIP just in case.

He was getting ready to call Chrissy to her the good news when the phone rang under his hand.

Eddie frowned at it for a moment, before he picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Eddie? Eddie Munson?” the familiar voice sounded through the cell phone.

“This is he,” he replied, still confused.

“If you want to divorce me, you asshole,” Steve spat, “then have the fucking courage to tell me to my face.”

“Steve?” Eddie asked, his confusion still there, but for a different reason now. How did he get his number?

“Yeah,” Steve hissed. “Remember me? The man you left for fame and fortune? How is that going, by the way?”

Eddie gritted his teeth. “You know full well we broke up, I know Dustin still talks to you.”

He could hear Steve snap his fingers. “That’s right. You broke up. And until you tell me to my face you want to do the same, you take your annulment and shove it up your ass.”

“Stevie...” Eddie pleaded.

“Don’t ‘Stevie’ me,” Steve growled. “Fuck you.”

And the phone went dead then Eddie turned his phone around to see that yes, Steve had disconnected the call.

****

Hehe. That was evil of me, I know. But it was favorite bit from what I wrote this week.

The game runs from 8am-11pm EST.

Send as many asks as you want, as often as you want.

Last week we got twenty-one! Not my record, but still pretty good.

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #wip wednesday

[emilykaldwen]

Hi, can you please explain what's going on in the HOTD fandom. I love your blog, it's like a safe switch and if there's drama I feel like I can filter through it on your blog and avoid going through the tag without being stressed tf out

Hello yes welcome I am desperately trying to maintain that feel because my blog is ALSO my safe space.

So there was a whole thing the past two days about someone who started claiming they were posting 'deleted scenes', much like the script draft snippets being posted by the user Darksvster (who had gone to the WGA library to look at the previous drafts of the hotd scripts).

And basically they came out and said 'why did no one believe me but you're willing to believe that other person' and there was a lot of mess how because Darksvster likes Daemyra, they were faking the content to show... Daemyra positively? As if the show hasn't been clear from day one that this is the ship of the show?

And now people are just making dramatic fake script things and it was funny at first, but now it's just the wave of exhaustion.

I think for me, as someone who did come from generally positive fandom environments in the past that survived during long waits (looking at the old days on Fiction Alley), I would really just love it people stopped screaming and yelling about things that just don't matter. Please engage with other fandoms, find something new you like to get through long hiatuses and breaks.

Because Anon, I feel the way you do - and yes, I'll comment on what I see, but I see a lot of people who are just unhappy. And It's not something I think will go away when the new season airs. It's going to be screaming and fighting about how the show contradicts headcanons and ideas that people have, what they've adapted from the book, massive amounts of disagreements.

And while yes, we can and should approach our stuff with critical thinking and analysis when we choose, I'm just tired of the yelling. I'm tired of the fighting. I'm tired of people getting beat up on. I have never seen anything like this before. It's baffling to me.

The TL;DR of it is: I wish I could understand outside of 'I think everyone needs to go and get some other hobbies so their whole interests aren't just revolving around this one thing' because I think it's driving everyone insane.

#lotsa love to you anon #I am but a very small blog #who is very tired #and for the first time today woke up feeling really sad

[cicada-circuitry]

#God tho this does make me want to pull back up that notebook fic snippet i had#of Margo confronting Molly about this too but like with science.#Margo would know. Just saying. She knows. ⃪ does this mean you have Molly/Margo fic?

Hi anon! sorry this is now several days late but boy do I. ( watched FAMK for the first time in February, wound up with Pages and pages of fic snippets (for a couple ships, margo x molly included) in chicken scratch on physical paper which is always a great sign that im being normal about a show, thought I'd cure myself if I just watched the whole thing a second time and absolutely only made it worse. )

I meant to answer this ask by just typing up the quick excerpt of the fic I was talking to myself in the tags about but...... started typing and did not stop. It lives over here now! Was not the one of the notebook fics I thought would see the light of day but you know? why not.

(I assume if you're here you, like me, have already read all the fics to be found but if you have Not read everything in that tag already, highly recommend. this fandom may be small but boy did it have good food on offer when I rolled in four years late fresh off a few episodes and absolutely screaming.)

Since I went ahead and dropped that one on ao3 at like 4am i'll throw in something a little more typical of the the notebook archives - how about this thing that exists entirely bc i noticed that used bookstore you can see beside the Outpost in season 1 and it gave me Ideas

Sometime post crossword-quiz / pre- run-in at the Jazz club.  

Margo walks fast past the Outpost on her way over to Bargain Books. When she can, she prefers to park down at the other end of the street and not have to go by that eyesore of a bar in the first place, but when you double the size of the astronaut program with twenty female ascans, you turn street parking into a blood sport. On her salary, no way is she playing chicken with the corvettes, not even to avoid mustering a polite smile for a coworker at his inebriated worst. 

Most days, that’s only an issue if she swings by after dark, the hour when everybody’s trickling out and stumbling home for the evening. Otherwise, the dingy whitewashed plywood keeps a nice impenetrable wall between book-seeking passers-by and drunken test pilots. Today, however, a spell of perfect weather is conspiring against her. Someone has the door propped open with a rusty paint can, letting the sound of laughter of clinking glass spill through it onto the sidewalk. 

A flash of green catches Margo’s eye before she can make it past. Despite herself, she recognizes that shade in an instant. It’s the flannel shirt she had to reprimand earlier that afternoon for bringing a lit cigarette into the sim. Molly Cobb, bent over a pool table, chin twisted up towards Patty Doyle, grinning like a woman about to win.  

Just Margo’s luck that this is the perfect time of day—indoor light matching outdoor light—for Molly to catch her eye straight through the open door as she makes her shot. 8-ball, dead in the pocket. 

For no reason she can think of, Margo feels heat rushing up into her cheeks. 

She stalks into Bargain Books in a hurry. 

The sweater-vested owner behind the front desk gives her the polite nod reserved for a good customer (and disinterested conversationalist) as she beelines for Paperback Fiction. She finished Matheson’s Ride the Nightmare last night— should have picked up two when she noticed how short it was in the first place, but nothing else tickled her fancy when she was in here a week ago, so here she is again, browsing spines. Maybe it's time to cave and finally grab a 10¢ copy of Rosemary's Baby from the stack on the end, seeing as it’s the one highly recommended title in her genre-of-choice the entire country seems to have read in the last couple years, but she already knows the ending (and the entire premise of demonic pregnancy does not appeal for tuning out after the work day). 

She’s dubiously eying the back-cover blurb on a Chandler detective thriller instead when a voice over her shoulder says, “Oh, Patty loves this shit.” 

To her great chagrin, Margo jumps, gasps, and drops her book. “Jesus, Molly.” 

“My bad.” 

Molly squats down to pick it up, slouchy brown corduroy flexing over her thighs. She fixes a bend in the cover before offering it back to her, but when Margo tries to take it away, Molly doesn’t let go. Instead, she adopts a playfully quirked brow and tugs it back towards herself inch-by-inch, bringing Margo, frowning, a step closer than she was before. “Came here to see if I could talk you into a drink.” 

Margo’s voice comes out approximately four steps too high as she looks around for some explanatory audience and says incredulously, “In there?” with a jerk of her thumb towards the Outpost’s adjoining wall. 

“Yeah. NASA central, shithole though it may be, but I never see you around.” 

“Well, I’m not an astronaut.” 

“Neither are the five white-shirts who monopolize the best booth in the back six nights a week. They don’t check for a pin at the door, Madison. That’d be no way to run a business. It’s a bar. Come have a drink with me.” 

“With… you.” She asks because she expects there to be an and. Me and the other ascans. Me and the rest of you white-shirt types in the back. Me and Patty Doyle. 

But Molly just raps the cover of The Lady in the Lake with her knuckles and says again, “With me.”

#margo x molly #thx anon!! be warned if you give me an excuse to say literally any words about this show im going to say them!! #whats that tumblr rule about like as long as you put a certain number of tags the next tags don't sort into search? #love to categorize things for myself dont necessarily need the entire fandom tag seeing my questionable 4am fic offerings #is it five tags is that enough? #for all mankind #molly cobb #margo madison #the notebook fic probably mostly wont see the light of day bc its a lot of just going absolutely overkill #writing single protracted conversations about every event that made me mildly insane through the entire show #which does not come together well into something that actually Goes Anywhere or god forbid Actually Ends #but yes lol i very very very much do have fic

[greypetrel]

HI ARJA I’m so curious about your moby dick AU lol you always have the best AUs

HI ROWAN I'm glad you asked! :D It's gonna be a big ass rant, so it's under the cut. I'm very excited about this AU, it tackles some things I love and have first-hand experience of, so yeah, I'll be chatty about it ahahahah.

I've posted a chapter at random on AO3 and you can find some snippets in the whale au tag!

So, it's "Zoologist Aisling who thinks whales are the best thing after sliced bread saves Cullen, who happens to have survived a shipwreck caused by a whale". Shenanigans happen.

It was an idea of @shivunin (thank you again) and I'm currently trying to give it a little outline not to go totally at random. I am thinking about characters background, it's a non-magical AU and so stuff needs to be adapted. The title of the WIP is old, I realised after that... You know, it's a Moby Dick INSPIRED thing. The first idea was having Aisling as Melville and Cullen as Ishmael teaming up to write Moby Dick. Cullen has the sailing parts, Aisling filling in with conspiracy theories about whalers and spite over naturalists. And both of them inserting a gay relationship because I'm still a big part of the Bi!Cullen agenda, and that book is terribly gay.

I did realise later on that there's a limit to the horrors I'm willing to put characters through and write, and cannibalism is really NOT one. I also moved it to another period and to the 1900s because I already did research for another original project and I'm more familiar with it.

The title of the file will change when I'll have a better one for this AU.

For now I do have a background for Aisling, what she's in Nantucket to do, and I'm so happy to say @melisusthewee jumped on the bandwagon aboard with Quinn and Horatio, but I'm letting her introduce you to them in this. I'll just say that Aisling refers to Quinn as "Mr Arch-Nemesis".

She's in Nantucket for a research over sperm whales behaviour, restore her family's name (dad was a scholar too, but alas, he was caught being a member of the Fenian society and giving money to the Irish revolutionaries... She's the Royal Society's favourite person, yes) and hopefully put a brake on whale hunting (the 1900s saw the peak of killed whales, you can bet miss "I'd adopt a dragon if Bull didn't constantly prevent me to try and befriend one" won't be ok with it). Dorian and Josephine -whom I couldn't fathom being there with her, seriously I can't picture Dorian on a ship if not in first class, unless he was beaten unconscious before boarding and dragged on. Josie finances ships, sure... but being on board of one and working? A whole different thing. So, they're Aisling friends, but they stayed in London to get her fundings.

Cullen needs to find reason to get to the sea again, he was a harpooner and worked on ships all his life... After being the sole survivor, he needs to find his centre back and get on with it. The crazy whale fangirl may or may not help him on this.

And there was only one bed, of course. (have I already said that Moby Dick is VERY gay?) (I had a blast reading it, thank you so much @salsedinepicta for making me curious about it! <3 Also if you want to throw your characters in this GO ON.)

I thiiiink I may change names and design and also do something fully original. I'm particularly enthusiastic about it because it allows me to tackle stuff I experienced in my life (I did some sailing! Very little and purely recreational, but still) and to re-use some research I already did for another original project which I love dearly, but it's definitely more than I can chew on my own. If I don't chicken out because the place is linked to some trauma, I maaaaay add a part in the seaside town I spent a lot of time growing up.

But again, let's see how it goes, researching on Italy isn't the easiest thing ever if you're not aiming at Rome or the Renaissance, and we're talking about a pretty regional side of Italy. I have good hopes because the people are very very very much into their own history and claiming it back, so I may find some good infos without spitting too much blood.

it's a work in progress, but there's gonna be more about this!

#whale au #petrel replies #dragon age inquisition #dragon age AU

[fancifulpurposelesslovely]

hello!! I have just blazed through summer sons 3 times in a row in like 4 days and I am NOT a rereader this book just punched me out. Anyway. Obviously I hopped on ao3 and reading your fic—which is so good btw like I literally want to put it in my mouth and chew it—led me to your blog and then I stalked the entirety of your summer sons tag and at one point you posted a snippet of a fic I think titled after? Where Andrew was like nuzzling Sam’s belly and got hit with that Eddie internalized homophobia flashback and went to pull back in a panic and Sam just casually grabbed him and pulled him back in and it made my brain make the teakettle noise so I was wondering in the most respectful way possible if there was any more that you would be willing to share? I completely understand if not and I don’t want this to come across as being pressuring in a bad way or anything I would just be so grateful to get to read more of the like spot on dynamic you capture between those boys thank you so much!!

Hi!!!

Thank you so much, and welcome to the absolute life-eating chaos that is Summer Sons. I read it 3 times in a month and have dug through it like a textbook since then, so I understand 100%.

I do have more of that fic floating around! Let me try to clean up the very messy Word Doc it's in and I'll definitely share some more of it. Thanks for reaching out, I love knowing when people are excited about my writing!!!

(Also, "I just want to eat it/chew on it/*mimes putting it in my mouth and making the chomp sound*" is pretty much my highest compliment for things so please know I DEEPLY appreciate it)

#summer sons #asks #writing

[elhuei]

Writer Q&A | Tag Game

Thank you to @mthollowell-writes for tagging me! 💞You can find their original post here! :)

1) What motivates you to write?

(Stories are like ghosts that haunt my thoughts and writing is the only way to exorcize them) I'm motivated to write the kind of books I want to read + the sort of characters I want to read! Not enough black lesbian girlies in fiction so I gotta do my part by releasing them into the wild 💅🏾

2) A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

I'll share the first few paragraphs from Little Infernos! Its old + I shared it before but it lives in my head rent free <3

Possession is an impossible skill to grasp. The doctor told her as much. “Think of yourself as a ghost,” he’d said, with a chuckle and a thin-lipped smile. Play pretend. A game to take her mind off the terror of stealing back her body from whatever’s taken it the night before. Remember, start small. The tips of a finger, a big toe, maybe even a whole pinky, if she was feeling so bold. Slip back in, one part at a time. This time, Dante is sprawled out in a bed of Ponderosa pine-needles. Bitter moss and loamy soil weighs down her tongue, pebbles rolling hard behind her throat. Aftertastes of pondweed and eelgrass. A ring of trees loom overhead, peaks fading into a dark and stainless sky. She moves her right index finger first, dragging in a breath of dirt and timberland air as she revels in the prick. Something small. Next is her left finger, then her pinky and middle. Soon, she is grabbing a fistful of earth and leaves and morels, propping herself up on empty arms. Another fight to push herself back into her body. The thin-lipped doctor says it’s sleep paralysis. Her father says it’s demons, the ones which drew her to Beau. Web M.D. also says sleep paralysis, so it must be true.

3) Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

Hmm Dante from Little Infernos! She just like me fr (in an alternate universe where I'm a little freak who has little freak things happen to her.) Since I focus on my fantasy projects so much I don't often get to explore more contemporary characters. I love Dante because she's the kind of black girl we don't often see in media (shy, quiet, introverted, ✨feral✨) and I get to aspects of myself in her that I can't quite replicate in my fantasy wips.

4) What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

Worldbuilding! I love building out worlds for fantasy projects, and thinking about all the little intricacies that go into developing a fleshed out world. It's super time consuming, and if I don't reign myself in it can become a never-ending process, but it's so much fun regardless.

5) What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

Hmm I think I'm fairly good at scene/setting descriptions! Ironically enough I do suffer from White Room Syndrome during first drafts because I tend to focus more on dialogue/character interactions, but during editing I think I do well setting scenes + making the worlds I'm writing about feel alive.

6) What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

I love how friendly and encouraging everyone is! We're all here to write our silly little stories and obsess over our silly little characters together :)

7) A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

I used to use Scrivener to compile all my worldbuilding notes (personally I don't enjoy drafting in Scrivener lol) BUT I've recently started using Notion and I love it so much! Very easy to use and satisfies my urge to make all my notes ✨aesthetically pleasing✨ Its like having secret wip pages just for myself and I love it sm <3

8) A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

I love the magic system I've built for A Killing of Kinfolk! Mayhaps one day I'll make a more in depth worldbuilding post but tldr; all living things have magic (Kin) within them, some people can wield Kin while others cannot. A person's magic (regardless if whether or not they can wield it) essentially works like antibodies, protecting from outside sources of magic. Casting/using magic on another person is always going to be a painful, invasive, and if prolonged, deadly process. This makes the most prominent use of Kin, healing magic (Mendwork) extremely difficult. Healers have to work slow and meticulously to ensure they exert enough Kin to heal their patients without too much pain or further harm. There are other schools of magic within AKOK (seedweaving, bonewielding and banework) but Mendwork is by far the most complex and interesting to me. I really liked the idea of a magic system that's actively hostile to its user—a healing magic that hurts just as much. Very fun <3

9) What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

READ! I feel like this is overused advice but I know all my worst writers block moments come when I haven't read anything in a while. I'm trying to be better about reading regularly and revisiting old favs when I get stuck to inspire me and remind me why I want to write.

10) Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters

I'm continuously inspired by writers such as @coffeeandcalligraphy , @fluoresensitive , @yvesdot & @seasteading, and I have to shout out @aninkwellofnectar , and my beloved @harehearts for being such kind and supportive writeblr friends 💞

I'll no pressure tag: @cuntylittlesalmon , @serenanymph , @thepixiediaries , @meerawrites & @tragicbackstoryenjoyer + anyone who'd like to join in!

#tag games. #q&a tag #writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip: little infernos #wip: akok

[hylfystt]

tag people you'd like to get to know better!

tagged by @pinkfey & @druidgroves thank you lovelies muah!!

LAST SONG: labour - paris paloma. been a little obsessed with her recently tbqh. notre dame is another favorite.

CURRENTLY WATCHING: yellowstone. i'm almost done with s3. it's definitely a wild show. i can't tell half the time who or what i'm actually rooting for. in actual love with beth tho.

THREE SHIPS: leida/aymeric - thinking about the eventual post-dawntrail wedding & potential retirement. chris/phi - they are always on my mind recently tbh. been thinking a lot about how things shake up in the village era. [redacted]/[redacted] - um. no comment on this. it's half-baked ideas mostly so i'll throw in hypatia/deacon - bc tbh they always make me insane. where do the lies stop and you begin? you sure as hell don't know, but maybe one person does.

FAVORITE COLOR: green. but also purple.

CURRENTLY CONSUMING: water. had pizza for dinner earlier! and cheesy bread!

FIRST SHIP: oh god. uhhh. i guess i remember being very invested in arya/eragon back in the day. like waaaay back in the day. don't remember a damn thing about those books but i remember liking arya.

PLACE OF BIRTH: california!

CURRENT LOCATION: texas

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: engaged baybeee!!!!!!!!

LAST MOVIE: uhhhhhhhh.......OH. resident evil death island. watched it with friends when they were visiting a few weeks back!

CURRENTLY WORKING ON: nothing :( but i wanna do something with phi soon. maybe a post-mansion snippet.

tagging @lavampira @scionshtola @coldshrugs @myreia @galadae @thevikingwoman @avallachs @birues @drekkarstar @erielake & anyone else who'd like to do this!

#sydney.txt