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itsonly1983 · 19 days

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WIP Wednesday!

A long time ago, I was tagged by @katsigian (on my main blog "sorryiliketoscreenshot"), and I finally got some time on a Wednesday to do it so let's go!

Part 1 - Screenshotting & Editing!

So, I am no "wip wednesday" professional, I may have done it just once or twice, and I'm working on many things right now so let's go by parts!

Since DBH is rotating on my head like a microwave plate, it is in fact what I've been mostly on these past weeks so uh... my folder number kinda looks like this

And since I can't play with lights on DBH as I used to do on my Cyberpunk shots, I'm trying to edit the shots on gimp (I know, I know, not the best option, but it's free so I guess it's a start?), which is a challenge for me XD

The next shots to be edited are these ones:

I won't be posting them all, but I am still unsure which ones should be The Chosen Ones™

I am also trying to figure out what I want to edit on those, I've done a couple of tries of removing all the colors besides blue, like this one:

Part 2 - Writing

But I am not so sure yet! I am still new to editing photography, so if anyone reading this has any tips, please let me know!

There you go:

Yeah! I'm writing again! And this time I even *finished a chapter* 😎 I knoooow!! Impressive right?! I've never finished a fic chapter before 😂😂

So now I'm currently working on the second chapter, and I wrote the first paragraphs!

It's a DBH fanfic, an idiots-to-lovers with ReaderXConnor as pairing, and it is in second person POV, which is a big challenge for a non-native speaker like me XP

Your phone alarm rings again, and you groan in response. It was past 10 am, but if you get up now you may reach the precinct before noon. You sit on the side of your bed and face yourself in the huge mirror on your wardrobe door. "Damn, I'm wasted," you thought when you noticed how bad your face was, the usual pair of dark circles around your eyes were now decorated with a black eye right under the untidy bandage on your eyebrow. You sigh heavily.

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The day after wasn't easy on you. You woke up with a dry mouth and pain from head to toe. Androids are tough to fight, and their fists may hit harder on your soft skin, so you end up finding bruises you didn't even remember, and the hangover made everything feel worse. You stretch your arm to reach the painkillers and water bottle you used to have on your nightstand. After taking the pills you roll over to your pillow, regretting every drop of alcohol you drank last night. The sun high in the sky was lighting up your whole room since you forgot to close the curtains.

As you rise from the bed to get closer to the mirror you realize you've slept wearing just Connor's t-shirt and panties, you catch your own face acquiring a reddish tone. "I should put it on the washing machine now so it's ready when I return home" you said to yourself, brushing away any other rushing thought.

You leave the washing machine working and go for a hot shower. As the warmth of the water eases your muscles and relaxes the hurting skin, your mind starts to drift away, bringing back bits from the past night. You recall the way his arms pulled you in, the way his hand gently held you against his body, the way his lips crashed yours without hesitation. A shiver ran down your spine as you recall the sensation of his tongue, the unique shock waves were a pleasant surprise. "Wait, what are you doing?" you swept the emerging thoughts "He's your friend, no, worse, he's your coworker! Nothing will ever happen between you two! That kiss meant nothing" you scold yourself.

You hop out of the shower not much later and quickly get ready for work, stopping in front of the mirror one last time to check if a bandage for your eyebrow is needed. "Nah, it will heal. But the nasty eye tho…" You grab your makeup purse and try to hide the black eye the best you can, but you're no magician and after a couple of tries it's still visible somehow, you give up and just grab sunglasses on your way out.

This is the *first* draft, so I'll probably tweak it a lot yet. This also is the first time I'm posting something that isn't a finished piece, and if you're reading this know you're the first person ever! I haven't shown this to anyone yet, and it probably will take some time for people to see it anyway.

The weather was warmer than yesterday, with a couple of clouds in the sky and a bright sun shining through, the traces of snow were now just puddles on the streets. You didn't live far from the Police Station but you decided to take the car anyway, you were already late and it will save you a couple of minutes.

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I would also do a "Part 3 - Drawing & Memes", but I'm not comfortable with the results yet! Perhaps in a couple of weeks!

But just know that I have a *nice* DBH meme to finish! It is a redraw, and I am no artist, but I'm doing it for the laugh anyway xP You will see it someday! I promise!

No pressure Taggings!

Thank you @katsigian for tagging me on this, and I am tagging you back! Whenever you have a WIP to share!

Also tagging my mutuals from this blog! @pythoness-at-delphi, @drunkchasind, @faepunkprince, @jos45555, @advictoriams, @fearlessjones

And some mutuals from my main blog! @scribeofred, @caer-oswin @glitchinginthegarden, @dreamskug, @ugh-my-back, @nananarc

And YOU! YOU reading this right now! YOU are tagged!!

But there is no pressure at all! Share your WIPs if you feel like it! And do it whenever you feel like it! This tag doesn't expire!💙

#15 minutes to midnight here!#i did it guys!#can't believe i made it! \o/

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amysnotdeadyet · 9 months

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2023 in review

Just the fannish creations, thanks. I don't want to think too hard about how fucking weird and stressful the year was outside of that. XD

I found some old 00Q art hiding on my hard drive and posted it in Feb.

I wrote a short Inception ficlet for @ladyprydian in April to try to jumpstart my muses. It didn't work.

I binge-wrote a whole-ass Sandman fic with (gasp!) fade-to-black porn in it in May.

July brought the Stony games! I was much less prolific than last year, but I managed a few things, starting with 3 little drabbles about perception.

I did a giftfic for the games! It starts in media res and I, being a troll, titled it In Pornia Res because yeah, this one's just pure porn against a background of worldbuilding.

I posted a longstanding WIP that was 100% self-indulgent trash, with Tony and Steve getting Bucky as their new sugar baby and treating him them right. Absolutely just the fluffiest of trash, but 66K of it!

I posted another longstanding WIP that's really pre-slash (I KNOW so weird) but involves catboy Tony, catboy Bucky, and a puppy Steve who's gonna get both (after the fic anyway).

My last little Stony Games fill was 8-bit pixel porn, because of course it was.

Later in August I did the "write what you want to see" thing and banged out (heh) a very kinky Stranger Things fic with Steve/Eddie and a leather bar. Somehow, it's still extremely fluffy.

I drew! Fanart! With pens and shit! Also Steve/Eddie.

And then I made pixel art of them, because why not.

Another Steddie fic, this time a modern AU with 'lost touch' feelings and also banging the rockstar in his hotel room.

And finally, my MTH2021 fic is posting a year late, and will continue on into the new year. It's all done and edited, I just like the daily posting method for getting drip-fed dopamine and also sitting there posting 29 chapters at once is no bueno.

You can find all of this stuff here, so I'm not link-stuffing the post: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/works

What's Coming in 2024 (besides my blorbos)

I have a few more Stuckony WIPs waiting in the wings, including my MTH 2022 fic, which I hope to finish in time to actually participate in 2024.

I have at least 1 novel coming out and maybe 2? I didn't publish ANY original fiction last year (gah), but I finished 1 draft (the sequel to Hive) and am plodding along on 2 more (Julian 4 and something new). I am so slow these days, tho, gah. I have no idea how some people put out multiple books a year, year after year.

I've got a few more Eeveeon arts to share, which I always forget to do on Tumbls.

I might actually open commissions next year (for art, I don't enjoy fic commissions).

I'm gonna a Stuckony Valentine thing, so you'll get at least one short fic from me in Feb.

I'm hoping something new will sweep me into its fandomy arms, because while I do love my current blorbos (MCU & Stranger Things), neither one is really doing the full fixation dance in my brain and that's sad. OTOH I'd like to finish my MCU WIPs before that spark fully dies ahahaha haha ha.

As far as art goes, I'm keeping up my Patreon sketch cards and not a ton else, but my new-new meds are helping me Get Shit Done, so I'm really hoping that I can get back into larger-than-a-playing-card artwork, both fannish and non.

I'm still gonna do more of my 8-bit bullshit, though.

#2023 in review #my post #my art #2023 will have been a thing i lived through that's for sure

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mudbloodpotter05 · 1 year

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Fic Writer Asks!

I was tagged by @read-and-write- and happiness-of-the-pursuit

ao3 username: Muddbloodpotter05

Fandoms: I have only written for and published for two fandoms- EastEnders (British Soap), but I write for my Ben and Callum “Ballum”, specifically. They are my ride or die ship for that show. I also write for Red, White and Royal Blue.

(Though I did write for HP and crossed that over with Charmed way too many years ago, 😅)

Number of works: 11! (Four are for my EastEnders, Ballum ship and Seven are for RWRB, though one of those for rwrb is my catch-all for any drabbles or drabbles that exceeded the 100 word only requirement).

Work I spent the most time on: this one is a bit harder to answer…of my published stories, I would have to say it is between 3 stories. Two of them fall in my EE fandom for Ballum and those are Someone to Watch Over Me and Your Final Words. For RWRB it would have to be my Now and Then. All three of these took about the same amount of time (roughly two ish months) for each of these because I tend to agonize over my writing and wanting to make sure I frame it and get the flow how I want).

This is likely to end up changing due to the current story I am working on, which is tentatively titled “Time and Time Again” for RWRB.

Work I spent the least time on: besides any drabbles…it would be between two stories If Only for One Night, for EE and Ballum and then Lacrosse My Heart and Hope… - both of these stories just flew out of my brain and into a doc within a single day and then posted to ao3 a couple days later after my wonderful Beta went over them!

Longest fic: this would have to be Now and Then for RWRB. Again, this is likely to change as my new story is currently sitting a little over 8k and that is just chapter 1!

Shortest fic: my drabbles, definitely, though some exceed the 100 word maximum, so I will also list Is that my sweatshirt for RWRB. (It my newest story and contains smut and was inspired by some amazing art of Henry running while wearing one of Alex’s jersey’s.)

Most hits: Bump In the Night which clocks in at 5,540 hits!

Most Kudos: that would be Is that my sweatshirt and has 206 kudos! I love this for my one shot! (Again, mind the tags for Smut).

Total word count: 105,989 (published at this exact moment)

Favorite work of my own: oof, this question sort of hurts, 😅, but if I have to pick I would say any of those listed in the question about the ‘work I spent the most time on’. Those three have to be the ones I’m most proud of!

Fic you want to rewrite or expand on: it would probably have to be Now and Then, but only because I have ideas/thoughts that didn’t make it into the story.

Share a bit of a wip: this is from chapter 1 of my current multi-chapter story-

It’s old. Worn, but still seems to be in good condition. An antique. One of the drawers seems to be stuck, maybe locked. The last time he saw one that looked like this was on a trip to the Smithsonian in his Junior year. So yeah, a fucking antique it may be, but it was the only desk that Alex had found that sparked any sort of joy. (Thank you, Marie Kondo!)

That joy being: it was dirt fucking cheap and he was past being picky.

Well, not exactly. Or not only the price, exactly.

He didn’t know why, but when he looked at it…Alex felt wistful.

Maybe it was his lack of sleep. Maybe it was the air of history hanging about it. Maybe it was haunted! (Not that he believed in ghosts and crystals, voodoo and magic…that was all his sister, June) Or it could very well be the curry from the back of his fridge that he should’ve thrown away. Still, none of those were going to stop him from making this purchase.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

And I am tagging….. @orchidscript @historicallysam @everwitch-magiks and @ethel0123 , but only if you want and haven’t done it yet!

#tag game #ask game #fanfiction #work in progress #ballum fic #rwrb fanfiction

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walker-extended-universe · 1 year

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WIP Wednesday Game

(stolen from @kedreeva)

Rules:

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!

August/Sadie

Sadie smiled. “I’m fine, it was just this morning.” Her morning sickness sometimes lasted into the afternoon but she was lucky to mostly have it in the morning. “Besides, I’d never miss a meal at the Walker house, even if you're not the one making it. Y’all go all out.”

In which Cordell does not abandon Kevin

Later that night, she snuggled up against his back in bed and kissed his shoulder. “You did a good thing today,” she murmured. “Reaching out to his family. They need someone to be there if he can’t be.”

Cordell shook his head. “I’m not him, Em.”

“Didn’t say you were.” She snaked a hand around his waist and held one of his. “They’ll appreciate having you around all the same. Especially Kevin….”

Kevin…. “You’re probably right,” he murmured.

“I usually am.” She kissed his cheek. “Now sleep. You need it.”

Stella got shot AU

Sadie bit her lip. “Okay so…. There might be a teensy-tiny itsy-bitsy chance that I know why that guy was in Geri’s house….. And I may know why they knew the house would be empty at that time. And-”

“Sadie.” Liam stopped her before she could dig a bigger hole for herself. “Are you telling me you’re connected to what happened tonight? Do you understand the implications of that?”

August got Sadie pregnant and now there's drama

“Cordell Beauregard Walker, if you put words in my mouth just to break my son's heart, I will come back from the dead to smack some sense into you.”

Cordell knew she wasn’t there, not really. But that didn’t make her glare any less withering. “Alright, I won’t say that,” he snapped back. “But am I wrong? I mean, you can’t tell me you’d be happy about this situation.”

SA fic

Finding out that James knew had been petrifying in it’s own right and she hadn’t even had to say anything then. He just figured it out and came to her after he had time to process that knowledge. This was a whole different ball game. Now, she had to explain what happened and watch their reactions in real time.

What the hell was she thinking when she planned this?

#wip wednesday #my writing #hit me

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starlling-writes · 2 years

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Steel My Heart fanfic WIP

So basically this fanfic is gonna be my take on the story Ginny Di's OC Temper "wrote" under the same title, Steel My Heart. After watching Ginny's vid with Edith & Augury, I got motivated to really work on this again (after my initial kick to after this tweet exchange (yes that's my main twitter, which I barely use))

—so I've decided to share what I have so far. If you haven't heard Ginny's ad with Temper (I cannot for the life of me find the vid with the world anvil ad she was in T^T), basically she's a blacksmith that moonlights as a writer; her current story is about an "adventurer who falls in love with [his] sword, but they can’t be together because the sword is so sharp, their love is dangerous."

I don't know how long it's going to take me to finish this fic, or if I'll actually write beyond the beginning/meet cute between the MC & the sword (in which case I'll release my brainstorming notes that have a lot of fun details). Once it IS done, I'll be posting it in a new post here, and on AO3. Links will be shared on Ginny's patreon discord too.

Anyway, enjoy the WIP as I update; or wait until I properly post the fic and enjoy the anticipation :)

—

UPDATES

March 5

[As this is a WIP, everything is subject to change. Also, it's not edited at all, so dont be surprised by mistakes/inconsistencies/etc.]

CH 1 - Woe to Weal

“How much can I get with—” Anneal paused as he dumped his coin purse on the bar and counted, meekly continuing, “three silver?” He was down to his last coins. He didn’t enjoy relying on the sympathy of others, but he had no choice but to bank on it.

The barkeep gave him a pitying look before going back into the kitchen. Hopefully that was good. There hadn’t been much in the way to scavenger or hunt on his way into this village, so any food would be good. On cue, his stomach growled like an owlbear. Not that it could be heard over the boisterous group that stumbled in, making everyone turn and look. A hallow pang turned Anneal’s head back to his measly fortune.

A fortune that was swiftly swiped up by the barkeep. In its place, a plate of food and a stein of mead were set. And the key for a room. He was about to thank the barkeep but one of the new, rowdy patrons all but slammed into the bar beside him. “Good friend, some drinks and food, if you please!” the halfling lilted. “And later some rooms so we may rest at ease.”

They eyed the gold she offered, then the group of hers who were all lost in their own conversation. “You’re adventures.”

“That we are, indeed. And we’re open for hire, should you so need,” she honeyed on.

“Yeah, actually.” They reached under the bar and pulled out a small flier. “Go see the mayor. She’ll give you the details. If you can manage to handle this tonight, you can imbibe and stay for free.”

“Well well, what a deal—”

“Sorry,” Anneal cut in, “but is this request open to all adventurers?”

They both looked at him. The barkeep raised their brow as they looked him over again. “You’re an adventurer?”

“I am.” Anneal cleared his throat, then straightened up and adjusted himself. “I admit, I’m… a bit down on my luck at the moment, but I can hold my own.”

A strong hand clamped on his shoulder. It seemed that the halfing’s group had been listening in and were all now circled behind me. The orc woman leaned in close. “Trying to be competition, little man?”

She could easily snap him in half—he had mixed feelings about that. “No, no!” he quickly defended. “I—I’m clearly no competition for the four of you.”

“Correct,” she said.

“I merely meant more of a… partnership? If you will—if the job is even something that would benefit from more fighters?” He glanced to the barkeep, hoping his desperation wasn’t noticeable to everyone.

It was.

The barkeep shrugged. “Hell if I know. Mayor knows more,” they deflected, then promptly removed themself from the situation developing between all of the adventurers.

Anneal slowly turned and faced the group he callously interjected himself into for this job they knew nothing about. Their expressions ranged between friendly, curious, reluctant, and unimpressed.

The orc spoke up again. “So, how do you fight? You look like fragile magic wielder.”

“Uhh…” He didn’t enjoy being called fragile, but compared to her, it was fitting. Especially with how scruffed up he was at the moment. “Well, I guess it’s sorta like magic.” He flicked his hand and in it appeared a spectral dagger. “Right now, these are all I got. But I know how to fight with other weapons, too. I’m best at being sneaky and such. You know—rogue shit.”

She nodded acceptingly. “Not bad. Maybe we work on more fighting skills for you.”

“Wait, so… you’re all fine working together?”

“We all fall on hard times at least once. It’s always good to help others when you can.” The elf with pastel hair held out her hand. “I’m Cerromet.”

“Anneal. Nice to meet—ahh!” When he went to shake her hand, a small creature jumped over Cerromet’s shoulder and tried to bite his hand. Luckily, he withdrew in time.

Acting fast, Cerromet turned her hand and grabbed the little psudo-dragon by the belly. She held the fang-bearing creature to her chest and pet it sweetly below its chin. “Sorry about Bloom. She’s just hungry.”

“She’s not the only one!” piped up the gnome. She hopped up on the stool beside him and leaned over for a better look at the plate the barkeep left him. “It’ll be nice to have some actual food instead of goodberries.”

“I’m sorry the ones I make are so sour,” Cerromet pouted with a little attitude. “That’s just how my magic is, Pen.”

The halfling leaned on the bar and stole his stein of mead. She took a swig then said, “I’m Burr, by the way; and Bi’Kern is our burly friend. She’s tough, for sure, but kind in the end.”

“I don’t mean this as a criticism, but just an honest question. Do you always speak in rhyme?” Anneal asked.

“It’s more fun to speak in song. Try it sometime and tell me I’m wrong.”

“Do you ever not speak in rhyme?”

“You’ll sooner see ancient dragons fill the sky, than you’ll hear a lilt fail from I.”

“Okay, okay… what’s a rhyme for orange?”

Bi’kern smacked the back of his head. “Stop being ass. Just drink already.” Burr made a point to start chugging the drink she stole from him while conspicuously returning to the table they had claimed.

— — —

Fun Notes: Most main characters are blatantly based off Ginny’s other OCs, and renamed after smithing terms (in case it doesn't come up later in the story, Pen is short for Pennyweld). Also, going to be adding various quests Ginny has made too (can you guess what this first one is gonna be?)

#ginny di #fanfic wip

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cat-denied · 2 years

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👀

for the end of year wip meme! ("send me a 👀 and i’ll post a snippet of art/writing that i never got around to finishing this year (r.i.p)")

i did a Lot of writing this year, and several things are sort of just in the backburner "i'd like to finish that later." but that means they're unfinished! so i have a lot to choose from. i am going to target you specifically and share an excerpt from my One star wars wip, last edited May 14 2022: Amara Kel's Revised Guide to Post-Empire Survival (Co-Authored by Howlrunner).

It's a fic of a single short story from Empire Strikes Back (From A Certain Point of View) by Django Wexler, which coincidentally is my favorite piece of star wars media, about 2 lesbians leaving the empire and adjusting to being outside of it, which coincidentally is my favorite trope. I write for a specific target audience (me).

Rule number two: Don’t go it alone.

Okay, okay, I can hear you complaining already. “But Amara,” you’re saying, “you literally just said not to tell anyone.” And yeah, I did. Thanks for listening. But here’s the thing: a solo escape from the Imperial Navy is impossible. It’s suicide. If there’s one thing TIE pilots (or ex-TIE pilots) know, it’s that you can’t get anything done unless there’s more than one of you - nothing substantial, at least. Go out on your own and you’d be court-martialed by what remains of the Empire or killed by some smuggler or rebel with something to prove in two weeks. Not worth it. You need backup.

Only, telling anyone that you want out is suicide, too. There is no way to leave the Empire that isn’t suicide. Check and mate, you’re stuck here forever, caught in a paradox and the only non-lethal way out is staying in. The Empire has you in its inescapable grasp.

But here’s the deal: being a TIE pilot is suicide. And I did that for years. Something like 90% of TIE pilots die in their first month of service. If you’ve made it this far in, you can make it this far back out again, too, probably.

Maybe.

It’s not a safe bet, but your odds are better than a lot of people.

Besides, if you’ve made it this far, you’ve probably broken the rules a bit already, like me. And that probably means you have someone — just someone — you can trust. Or, well. Approach trusting.

Bring someone with you. More than that, bring someone capable with you. There’s something to be said for carrying around live bait, but bowing out of an intergalactic empire is something that’s best done undercover, and the best way to do something undercover is to have a tight crew. Only two of you if you can swing it.

For me, Howlrunner is, of course, the only choice.

Like I said, I really do want to finish this at some point: I had a lot of ideas that I thought were cool, and it was super fun to write something in a more immediate, first-person train-of-thought style, which I rarely do. But I've got other projects on the burner now so this will sadly have to wait.

Thanks for asking!!

#ask game #star wars #howlrunner #amara kel #roadtriptalks #my fics

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winterscaptain · 4 years

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figure it out.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: this has been in my wips for literal months as i’ve done my best to get it just right for yall. i hope you enjoy it, and tell me what you think! There’s an addendum to this one, and i’m already working on it, but we’ll see a few more things before that’s ready :)

words: 3.5k warnings: sex mention, sex implication, language

summary: “love is like a backache. it doesn’t show up on an x-ray, but you know it’s there.” - george burns. au!january 2012.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

You roll over in bed when your alarm goes off, but you don’t get very far. Aaron throws an arm over you and pulls you back to him with a grumble.

You huff a laugh and wiggle up against him. It’s all a tease and you both know it - there isn’t any time to get up to anything fun before work, but it’s far too entertaining to rile him up.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” His voice escapes his lips between your shoulder blades and you can feel his smile.

“Oh, trust me, babe. I can finish.”

He hums, his smile breaking out into something real. “I noticed.”

+++

When the two of you finally make it out of bed (surprisingly still on time), you grab one of Aaron’s scarves and a hat on your way out. It’s your turn to drop Jack at school today on your way into the office, and the task serves two purposes.

The first? It’s nice to spend time with Jack, just the two of you, when it’s your turn and you’re not on a case. It’s the same for Aaron, who always leaves a little earlier so he and Jack can sit down somewhere and have breakfast together.

The second is pure logistics. You two can’t show up to work in the same car at the same time, so a convenient excuse to separate and stagger your arrivals is welcome.

“Really?”

Aaron’s question stops you at the threshold and you look over your shoulder “What?”

“My hat? My scarf?”

It’s almost too tempting to cave when he’s looking at you like that - his tie hanging around his neck, shirt untucked, arms crossed, and playful frown hiding a smile.

“Yeah. It’s warm and it’s here and we’re late.”

Jack squints up at you and says, “We’re not late.”

“You’re not late.”

The observations come within split seconds of each other and you laugh.

“Fine. Not late, but warm. And you have more hats.” You scamper back into the house to plant a kiss on his lips, smoothing the hair at his temples.

Jack’s laughter is the underscore to your next quip. “You’re very handsome and I’m sure you’re very smart so you can figure it out.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Jack chirps. “Figure it out.”

He has nothing to say to your retreating forms as he catches a glimpse of your smile through the crack in the closing door.

+++

Emily and Spencer are away at a conference-book-signing thing, so it’s just the five of you and Penelope this morning. You’d normally figure that would be Rossi’s purview, but apparently -

“My book-signing days have been put on hold indefinitely in favor of -”

“ - He’s back.” Garcia interrupts, tossing case files at all of you. The conversation is cut short and you suppress a smile. “The Marin headlands last night.”

You can see Aaron’s lips pull as well.

It’s the little things.

Penelope gestures with the notes and crime scene photos appear on the screen. “David Atley and Nicole Puli, both 24, both grad students at Berkeley, shot multiple times in their vehicle-- wait for it--” She clicks again and a familiar sigil appears.

“The Zodiac?” Morgan’s shock is almost sardonic in its delivery.

Rossi snorts. “No way.”

“Come on,” Derek says, amused, while JJ chimes in as well.

“It's gotta be the 2.0 version.”

While neither of you speak, you share a glance with Aaron. You’re kidding.

He only raises his eyebrows for a split second and shrugs.

There’s some part of you a little paranoid that you’re the most obvious couple to exist in the history of the universe. Sure, the team has been teasing you about your friendship for years, the will-the-won’t-they of it all, but now that it’s real you’re almost terrified that they know everything.

Thus, the overcompensation has been wretched. You and Aaron barely look at each other in the field if you can help it (which you usually can’t) and he tends to put you with Derek more often than not.

In truth, the others have noticed, but are far too interested in the spectacle to say anything. Emily’s almost certain the two of you have slept together, and Dave may or may not have suggested the possibility of a secret marriage during your period of suspension.

However far-fetched and ridiculous their theories, they know you two well enough to know that something happened. The tension is gone.

Derek almost finds himself missing the tension. There hasn’t been much to tease you about lately in its absence.

“Yeah, you would think so, except for the crazy similarities in the MO.” Penelope clicks through the photos as she talks.

“I'm talking same victimology, same geography. And,” she adds. “Two souvenirs were left at the crime scene.” She clicks once more and stands back for the full effect.

“He left a photo?” Rossi asks.

She hums in the affirmative. “Local police say that is Marcia Miller. She was found near Napa in 1971. Strongly suspected that she was a victim of the Zodiac, but police never confirmed it and they didn't publicize the case.”

Morgan’s still squinting at the screen. “So the Zodiac took this photo at the killing and then saved it all these years?”

“The Zodiac's last confirmed victim was the cabdriver Paul Stine,” Dave notes devolving into a conversation about The Zodiac, his timeline, his signature.

It’s nothing new - The Zodiac Killer’s case details are common knowledge in your line of work, nevermind the sheer number of copycats that try their hand at the highly-ritualistic murders before inevitably getting arrested.

There’s a reason this guy hasn’t been caught in forty years.

After a few minutes of bouncing between you all, Hotch pushes back from the table and stands. “Have Reid and Prentiss meet us in San Francisco. Wheels up in 30.”

He heads straight to his office to collect his things and you swing in by the tips of your fingers for just a second. “You wanna call Jess or do you want me to?”

In the middle of throwing files in his briefcase, he doesn’t look up when he answers. “Can you, please? I was supposed to meet with Strauss this afternoon and need to stop by her office before wheels up.”

You smile at him, tapping the door frame twice. “You got it.”

+++

It’s boots on the ground right away when you land in San Francisco. You drive to the crime scene with Aaron in the passenger seat beside you and JJ in the back. The radio’s on, and you sing under your breath, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you make your way up to the crime scene.

Before you get to the local FBI agents, JJ catches you by the sleeve. “It’s nice to have music in the car again.”

You just smile at her. Aaron looks a little puzzled.

The three of you wipe the looks off your faces by the time you get to Agent Lynn.

+++

“What did JJ mean?” Aaron asks you.

The two of you are alone for the time being, posted up in the conference room with the old Zodiac case files. You look up. “Hmm?”

“What did she mean when she mentioned the music earlier?”

“Oh.” A little flush of embarrassment shoots down your gut. “Derek pointed out to me last summer that I didn’t play any music in the car.”

...while you were gone is the thing you don’t say, but he knows that’s what you mean.

“I didn’t really notice.” You shrug to cover your fib. “I guess I’ve reacquainted myself with the radio in the last couple of weeks.”

Aaron hums, returning to his work. Something’s off, but you’re sure it’ll come up later.

+++

“You don’t think it’s really him, do you?” You ask, unbuttoning your shirt and throwing your pajamas on.

Surprisingly, this case seems to be one of those that allows for sleep at regular hours. For that, you’re grateful. It’s much harder to find time to wind down with Aaron at the end of the day when you’re all forced to sleep in shifts.

Aaron shakes his head, “No, I think Reid’s right. We’re looking at a particularly sophisticated copycat.”

“Isn’t that kind of worse?” Hopping up on your bed, you curl up and look at him over your nose - a clear invitation to join you.

With a huff down his nose and a little smile, he flops down beside you and props his chin on his arms over your belly. “Could be. Luckily, we have Reid.”

You almost think he’s going to say something else, but he gets that pensive look on his face again.

“What?”

With a sigh, he says, “I’m just thinking about what JJ said.”

“Oh, Aaron -”

He doesn’t let you finish. It’s probably a good thing. You didn’t know what you wanted to say anyway.

“I knew how hard it was on me, but I’m realizing more and more how hard it was on you, too.” He shakes his head. “I feel ...I don’t know. I feel like I should have known better… or something.”

Winding your fingers in his hair, you sit in silence for a moment. He doesn’t have anything more to say and eventually he crawls up your body and settles in under your arm, his head on your chest and legs wound between yours.

Sometimes, you’ve found, he likes to feel small.

“You’re safe and you’re home. That’s what matters.” You kiss the top of his head. “And I love you.”

He hums, arcing into your touch and wrapping an arm around your waist. “I love you.”

+++

You spend much of the next day chasing Spencer around the city, keeping notes handy (for yourself, not for him - he doesn't need them) and reporting back on his discoveries to the team like some kind of overwrought and hyper-trained secretary.

Stepping off to the side, you answer a call from Aaron.

“Hit your limit yet?”

You look over at Spencer, who’s flipping through a newspaper like a man on a mission. “It’s actually kind of entertaining.”

And that’s actually true. Watching Spencer push the limits of his intelligence is always a treat - it happens so rarely you almost forget how much you enjoy it every time.

He huffs into the phone. “Hang in there. We’ll all meet back at the precinct once Reid’s done -”

“Doing magic?”

“Exactly. Keep me posted.” There’s a pause. It’s an odd little habit you two developed in the field to leave space for the words you can’t say in front of the others.

I love you.

“Me too.”

+++

You’re almost asleep when a sliver of yellow light shoots across your room, promptly disappearing as the door to the hallway closes.

He pads across the room and slips under the covers. “Hi.”

A little smile crosses your face as you roll over to face him. “Hi.”

Before you can say anything else, his hands are on you and he’s half on top of you as he captures your lips.

Needless to say, the lack of sleep is worth it.

+++

Emily, long after she and Aaron are the only ones left in the precinct conference room, squints as she notices something right under his collar.

He’s already loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt, no longer standing on ceremony now that all the local police have retired and the rest of the team gone up to their hotel rooms. There’s not much to do, but the compulsion to get ahead for tomorrow is one neither one of them can shake.

What Aaron failed to remember when executing his wardrobe adjustment was the rather...spirited romp in your room the night prior. The little purple swatches painted on his skin just under the line of his collar stood out stark against the crisp lines of his dress shirt.

Fortunately for you, there was no way in hell the rest of the team would find anything he left on you last night.

Emily reaches into her purse and pulls out a tube of concealer and a powder compact. Though he’s more olive-toned than she is, it’ll be good enough in a pinch. “Hey, Hotch.��

He looks at her over his nose, his eyes tired.

“You might want this for tomorrow morning.” She pushes the crisis control kit across the table to him, but he only frowns and deepens his squint.

By way of explanation, she reaches across the table and presses the tip of her finger into one of the visible bruises in the hollow of his throat. He flinches, freezes, and then immediately drops his head into his hands.

It’s easy to say Emily is amused in the extreme. “Those look...really fresh.”

He shakes his head, insisting as he picks up a file at random, “They’re from before we left.”

It’s only because it’s Emily that he’s even humoring this conversation.

“No they’re not.” She sticks her tongue firmly in her cheek. “These ones are though.” She points at yellowing marks on his collarbone and he smacks her hands away.

“And I know what fresh hickies look like, Hotch. Those are fresh fresh. Like, last night fresh. And we’ve been here for four days.” She frowns, tracking back through the day. “When on earth would you have time to -”

A series of images flash through her head, random wayward connections flashing together in an alarmingly clear picture.

You, avoiding her at the office back in September with quickly-covered marks painted across your neck.

You, flirting with Sean and having way too much fun doing it, looking over his shoulder at ...someone else.

Hotch, in a perpetually good mood (for him, anyway, and despite looking ill-slept) for the last five months.

The way the mistletoe kiss at Dave’s Christmas party looked way too easy, too familiar.

And now, the obvious indicators that Hotch is not only getting it, he’s getting it good.

If he got those last night…

Wait.

Their hotel rooms are right next to …

Oh my God.

Hotch watches the realization flash across Emily’s face, and he knows you’re both busted. Instead of losing her shit like he expected, Emily just leans back in her chair - smug.

“So. Are you still Not the Boyfriend, or has there been an update?”

He sighs.

The corner of her mouth tips up. “How long?”

“For which part? The not-boyfriend part, the boyfriend part, or this part?” He gestures vaguely to the space behind his tie, and Emily snorts.

“Just spill it.”

Holding up a finger, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, dialing the first number on his speed dial.

You’re hardly asleep, sitting up in bed waiting for him with a case file in your lap, when you get the call. You’re not sure who’s listening, so a “Hey, Hotch. What’s up?” will have to do.

“Emily knows.”

You straighten. “How?”

“Doesn’t matter. She knows.”

There’s a scramble, and suddenly Emily’s on the other end of the phone. “He’s got very questionable and very fresh bruises just under his collar. Care to explain?”

There’s another shuffle.

“Ignore her,” Aaron says. With a hand pressed to your forehead, you understand the question implicit in his phone call.

“Just tell her. It’s basically her fault, anyways. If she hadn’t ditched it then we’d have our heads up our asses for another five years.”

“Alright,” then, after a second of realizing you don’t sound sleepy at all, “Go to bed.”

“I’m in bed.”

He rolls his eyes. Emily can only look on with amusement, gleeful in the extreme. “You know that’s not what I mean. Go to sleep.”

“Alright, alright. Fine.” You reluctantly close the casefile and put him on speaker so he can hear the light click off. “I’m going to sleep.” Then, “I love you. Come up soon.”

“Okay.” He shoots a glance at Emily. Because he’ll never hear the end of it anyway, more ammo won’t hurt at this point. “I love you too. Now, really. Go to slee -”

You hang up on him. He double-takes at his phone for a moment before shoving it back in his pocket.

He’s met with Emily’s surprisingly moved eyes. “You’re...okay.”

What she means is, You’re happy.

He knows.

He nods. “I’m okay.”

She puts her files down and leans forward, resting her elbows on the table and lacing her fingers. “Tell me.”

So, he does.

He tells her about the way you stuck to him like glue through the divorce, the way you wiggled your way into Haley’s heart, captured the love of his son, and earned the trust of his entire family.

He tells her what Haley said in the hospital, the tenacious care you showed his unyielding and unwilling ass when he was healing, the way your grief soothed his in the wake of Haley’s loss.

He tells her about the moments of euphoria in the years of want and doubt and fear.

He tells Emily about the day she died, how there was nothing more painful than that necessary lie. He tells her how easy it was to lie to the others, how it ripped him in half to lie to you.

He tells her about the day he left for Pakistan, about the fight the night before, the kiss he pressed to your cheek on the tarmac, the endless, wretched nights missing you in the desert.

He tells her about the fight when he finally came home, skims over the following days, jumps and meanders around to Christmas, to moving in, to the bliss that now seems to follow him wherever he goes.

Emily watches the smile that plays at his mouth when he talks about you, the softness in his eyes as recalls the look on your face and the words you said and the way you are with Jack. There’s a kind of peace in him that she’s never really seen before.

Maybe, she imagines, it was there before she met him (the second time). Maybe this peace existed with Haley. Maybe this is the most she’s ever heard him speak at once. Maybe it makes her smile.

Maybe this peace is what his love looks like.

If that’s the case, she thinks, you are very lucky indeed.

It could have been hours, it could have been minutes, but at some point he stops talking.

“Hotch?”

He looks over at her, the softness lingering in his eyes.

“I’m really happy for you.”

His lips twitch. “Thanks.”

“And you know it’s my God-given right to tell everyone else once this case is over, right?”

+++

You actually are asleep by the time Aaron gets back to the hotel. He leans against the wall in the dark with his hands in his pockets, enjoying the peace before the inevitable shitshow.

He crosses the room and crouches at your side, running the back of his fingers over your cheek. You stir, sleepy noises leaving your throat as your eyes crack open.

“Aaron?”

“Yeah. Just me.”

You smile a little and close your eyes again. “How’d she take it?”

“Remarkably well.” He kisses your forehead. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“No,” you whine, drawn-out and slurred. “Don’t leave. Stay. I set an alarm.”

With a resigned sigh, he strips and slides into bed behind you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you close.

+++

You and Aaron sit on proverbial pins and needles for the rest of the case, but Emily keeps her word. The only indication of her knowledge came the morning after her chat with Aaron, when she pulled you to her and hugged you so tight you could hardly breathe.

She seizes her moment on the plane, about halfway home.

“Derek, you owe me fifty bucks.”

She hardly looks up from her book as she speaks.

He takes off his headphones and wrinkles his brow. “What?”

She repeats herself, slower, as if she was speaking to a child. “You. Owe. Me. Fifty. Bucks.”

“...Why?”

Emily finally looks up from her book to pointedly stare at you and Aaron, seated next to each other and sharing a bag of Goldfish you stole from Jack’s snack drawer. You’re both reading from the same file, absently reaching for crackers as you go along.

Derek’s confusion continues to smother his face until it finally clicks in.

He steals a page from Reid’s notebook and balls it up, tossing it across the plane and breaking your concentration. You look up, only a little startled, to find a face-splitting grin blinding you across the cabin.

Derek’s small ruckus has drawn the attention of the rest of the team - well, all except JJ, who’s fast asleep on the couch.

There seems to be a collective sigh of relief as money exchanges hands. You’re not quite sure what the bet was, but Emily seems to have won handily.

Aaron takes your hand under the table, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It doesn’t.

Everyone simply returns to their tasks, little smiles on their faces.

+++

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amymel86 · 3 years

Note

Hello! Do you have any bits of your awesome writing to share for WIP wednesday?😍

I just saw this anon!

And thank you for asking <3

This is a bit more of this as yet untitled 'post-apocalyptic/fertility/modern arranged relationship???' fic. The first bit I posted on tumblr is here and as before, some things are not yet decided (like town names) and things may change...

“Are you sure this is what you want to do, darling?” Her mother’s voice on the telephone was a balm to her soul.

Sansa’s finger brushed the soft vivid petals of the small potted iris she’d bought at the store today. The iris symbolises hope, wisdom and courage among other things and she prays that the pretty purple and yellow bloom will lend her some of those. “I’ve got to try something, Mum,” she says, turning her attention to the two separate bundles of paper in front of her. Two men, two candidates, two different futures. Sansa had filled out all the matching service’s extensive questionnaires and scrutinised all the information she could find on the program. It seemed simple enough – you’re rewarded for helping to repopulate. In turn, the authorities help to pair you with someone who should be a good match dependant on all the information they have about you. The aim is that this new generation of children are raised in the traditional family unit. That had appealed to Sansa. “I can’t seem to find the right guy all on my own anyway,” she said into her phone.

“How do you know it will be safe, though?”

“It says here that my situation will be monitored by my own caseworker. I can call them any time I want. They’re not just going to drop me at the guy’s house and just leave us get on with it.”

“Hmmm... tell me about them? These men that they’ve narrowed down for you.”

“One’s called Waymar, he’s a financial advisor here in the Vale,” Sasna pauses, looking at the man’s photograph on his paperwork before fishing out the other. “And the other is called Jon, he owns a farm in the Reach.”

“None in the north then?” Her mother has been itching to get her back home. “I just wish there was a way to know that either of them were good men, Sansa. That’s all I want for you.”

Sansa put the two photos together. Two possible fathers for her child.

“That’s what I want too.”

***

“Shit! Holy fucking shit!” Jon says to himself, hanging up from his phone-call. “Mance!” he yells, bursting out of his trailer to find the old man. “Mance! It worked! It fucking worked!”

He’d relented. When Mance first put it to him that he should sign up for that weird government breeding program or whatever the fuck it was, he thought the old man’s last brain-cell must’ve fried up in the sun. But if they were going to make it easier for them and it meant Mance could keep the farm (and Jon could carry on living there rent free), then it was worth a shot. So he had relented. He’d filled out what seemed to be a gazillion and one questions about himself, his politics, his views on family and finances and education and fucking... art and shit. These damned government people wanted to know everything about him down to whether he scrunched or folded his toilet paper it seemed. He’d even had to lie. He didn’t like doing it, but there was no way that a fertile was going to pick him if he didn’t. So, he fished out an old photograph – one taken before the bar brawl that lost him his sight in one eye, and he’d also lied his asscheeks off by claiming he had ownership of the farm. He knew – he knew – that these lies are just more things that were going to trip him up one of these days but with Mance urging him on, he’d signed that damn form and offered himself up for the program.

And now a fertile had chosen him.

Him.

Fuck, he might throw up.

This can go one of two ways. Either completely up Shit Creek without a paddle – with his lies and reality crashing down on top of one another, leaving them exposed... or, his fertile somehow looks past his deceits and sticks with him and they-... well, shit, he could actually become a father. No-one becomes parents these days, especially not ‘round here. Fertiles flock to the big cities, to men with bigger pockets, or they work for couples who can afford to pay them off in exchange for a kid or two.

“It worked?” Mance asks, rolling out from under an old Ford pickup that needed a new exhaust. “They sendin’ us a peach?”

Jon shook his head. “They’re not sendin’ you anyone, old man. An’ don’t call her that – they’re-“ Fuck, what did the council call them on all that paperwork? “Reproductively abled.” He’ll have to remember that if he doesn’t want to offend her.

“Well, shit,” Mance grins. “What did I tell ya? Knew your pretty face was good for somethin’!”

Jon frowns. “Ain’t so pretty no more though.” He might have to go get himself a patch to cover his milky, sightless eye. It’s fine most of the time since Mance is the only one he sees unless he’s going to drink at Hobb’s, but he certainly doesn’t want to put off his ferti- reproductively abled friend who’ll be arriving in three weeks.

“She got a name? Your new peach?” Mance asked, earning him a glare.

“Sansa. Sansa Stark.”

Mance grunts and nods. “Sounds fancy.”

Yeah... It did sound kinda fancy he supposes. Jon’s first reaction had been that it was a mighty beautiful name, but now he thinks of it...

“Shame we can’t look her up – see if she’s a beauty or not.”

Jon can’t remember a time when that was an option. He was barely 11 at the highest point of the virus’s hold. Government officials had deemed certain channels on the internet were causing more harm than good by spreading false rumours, incorrect statistics and completely counterintuitive medical advice. The whole thing was shut down, now deemed illegal, only to be reconnected again three years later apparently looking like a foreign landscape from the one before. The internet was no longer a platform to socialise, only government approved informative sites remained. Mance says it’s better this way – that all people used to do was post vain images of themselves for attention anyway.

Jon wouldn’t mind seeing a vain image of Sansa Stark right about now though.

Not that it mattered terribly. As long as they get along and she decides to stick around she could be as ugly as sin. In fact, she probably will be, won’t she? Most pretty ferti- reproductively abled women stick to the cities and its high-fliers.

It doesn’t matter, he told himself. You just gotta keep her happy here and-

“Mance?” he asks, an issue coming to mind. The man grunts in acknowledgement. “Where the fuck is she gonna sleep? She’s not gonna want to stay in my trailer.”

The man grins in response. “I’m glad you asked, boy. I’m glad you asked.”

***

Her caseworker was meant to meet her at the train station. It was quite a drive to the farm and he was meant to pick her up, make sure she’s safe and happy and introduce her to Jon.

That hasn’t happened.

“Please accept my apologies, my dear,” Mr Baelish said down the other end of the phone. “There’s been a mix up with my schedule. We can set you up for the night at a local motel or ask your match to come and get you. Which would you prefer?”

Sansa eyes the dirty looking motel across the street from the train station. Everything here at [[INSERT TOWN NAME]] seems a little on the... rundown side. Maybe the sooner she gets to the farm, the better. Plus, her tummy is all a flutter with anticipation to actually meet Jon. She’d wound up swaying towards Jon as a match due to a few reasons; 1 – he does not live in, around, or anywhere near Harry or his crazy mother. 2 – he owns a farm, and that had conjured up hazy daydreams of idyllic country life. Sansa may enjoy big nights out in the city, drinking her dirty margaritas and feeling her bones vibrate against the base beat in a nightclub, but she knows that’s not what she wants to raise a child around. A child will want to run barefoot through wheat fields and chase chickens and milk cows and –

Let’s just say Sansa has a few ideas and that they all helped to sway her away from city pleasures and towards farmhouse life. And Jon

And last, but not least, reason number 3 – Jon himself. Put side-by-side, his and Waymar’s photographs looked rather similar if truth be told, but Jon won out on something that Sansa just couldn’t describe. Looking at his photograph gave her goosepimples along her forearms because it was like he was looking right back at her. There was something in the depths of his eyes – a kindness? A wit? A strength? She’s not sure, but she couldn’t find the same qualities when she stared at Waymar’s likeness. And his answers too. His questionnaire was full of how he’d like to teach a kid how to walk and ride a bike and fix a... a tractor for heaven’s sake! And so her head was flooded once more of this idyllic life where they got up to watch the dawn stretch over the farmland and they’d grow their own vegetables and she’d bake a pie every day and it would just be perfect.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

Sansa glances around the near abandoned train station.

This doesn’t look so perfect right now.

“Could you please arrange for Jon to come and get me, Mr Baelish?”

***

It’s been an hour and fifty-six minutes precisely since Sansa last spoke to Mr Baelish to arrange her match coming to get her. An hour and fifty-six minutes of sitting on the curb, waiting, surrounded by her three suitcases. She’d started off by sitting at the nearby bus stop, purely because it was somewhere to sit and she had a clear view of the road, but after the rude bus driver insisted that if she’s sat there, she must be wanting to hop on his bus, Sansa decided to park her butt on the dusty, sun-baked curb instead. Her legs were beginning to numb and she was starting to get a headache from the sun beaming down on her head. The curls she’d styled into her copper locks have likely lost their hold by now. What a waste. Opposite, on the other side of the street, beside the dirty little motel, there was a tiny bar that advertised the fact that it hosted exotic dancers at the weekends with a blinking neon sign. Next to it was a hunting and fishing ‘emporium’ and beside that was a vacant store with an old dirty sign that read ‘Blouses & More!’. Presumably, the ‘& more’ still wasn’t enough to keep that fine establishment in business in this funny little town. At the end of the block was ‘Tarly’s Drugstore’ and Sansa had been debating with herself whether or not she should haul her suitcases over to go buy a drink and a magazine for about the last hour and fifty-five minutes.

But she hadn’t wanted to miss Jon Snow’s arrival.

Jon Snow, who seemed to be pulling up outside Tarly’s Drugstore in a dusty Ford pickup truck right about now. Sansa stood, expecting him to come right on over considering how long she’d been waiting for him, but she found herself wondering if she’d got it all wrong when she hadn’t caught a good enough look at him before he darted straight into the store.

Sansa is done with waiting. She grabs her smallest case and places it on top of her larger one, trying her darnedest to roll all her luggage across the road in a lady-like fashion. She could feel the eyes of several passers-by on her while her stiletto heels clip across the street. In turn, her own gaze fell to Jon’s cream-coloured truck. Its front bumper looked a little rusty and wonky too. There was a big gash in the leather of the bench seating on the passenger side. On the truck bed, there were a number of items, including a rocking chair that seems to have a couple of spindles on the chair-back missing, and a new double bed mattress wrapped in clear plastic. Sansa was almost done frowning at the state of the vehicle when the over-door bell of the drugstore tinkles.

“Holy shit,” he curses. And yes, it definitely was Jon standing right in front of her. Only... well... his hair was tied into a knot at the back of his head and.... and... he was wearing a black eye patch? “Uh,” he stood there, arms laden with bottles from the store as the gaze from his one good eye quickly darted down her frame and back up again. “You’re her, right? You’re Sansa Stark?”

Sansa found she could only nod, looking him up and down, like he was with her. He was in jeans with oil smears, some tough, heavy looking boots, a somehow pristine white vest and flannel shirt with the arms ripped off.

Speaking of arms...

Gods-damn! Sansa’s focus was momentarily derailed...

“Sorry, I-“ Jon starts before his grey eye drops to the floor and then returns to her, looking a little bashful. “I didn’t expect you to be so pretty.”

Oh boy. He may be wearing an eye patch right now but this man could win over a thousand girls with that smile, Sansa’s sure of it. She resists the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. She’s here to find out if they’re well suited enough to start a family together – she needs to keep her head and think rationally, not allow herself to be swayed by his rugged country boy charm. It was Harry’s looks that enticed her in the first place – and look how well that turned out for her?

“Thank you,” Sansa says, blinking back at him before his words truly hit home. “Didn’t they give you my photograph?”

Jon shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

Huh.

“Did they show you mine?”

Sansa bites her lip and gives a nod.

Jon grimaces. “So I guess you weren’t expecting this?” He points to his patch.

Sansa shakes her head. “No... did you... did you do something to injure it?”

Jerking his head, Jon begins rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand. “It’s a long story... but... it ain’t gonna get any better, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“Oh.”

They stood, staring at one another for a heartbeat or five before Jon sucks in a breath over his teeth and glances down to the bottles he clutched to his chest with one arm. “I tried to get you some things to help you feel at home,” he says, “these are the nicest smellin’ soaps ‘n’ stuff from Tarly’s.”

“Thank you,” Sansa replies, knowing full well that she brought her Highgarden Floral Scents bathroom range with her.

Jon chews on his lip as he eyes her suitcases. “Lemme get those for you,” he offers before dumping the bottles in his arms into the truck bed and reaching for her luggage. Sansa’s heeled shoes seem welded to the spot. Jon notices. Scrubbing both hands down his face in resignation, he takes a step closer to her and Sansa realises for the first time, that he had dirt beneath his fingernails. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “It was a shitty thing for me to do,” he offers, his words low and husky. Sansa feels the timbre of his voice set off a trickle of gooseflesh down her spine. “I’m sorry.”

She blinks at him, momentarily confused.

“About this,” he explains, brows high on his head as he points to his patch. “I shouldn’t have sent that old photo of before this happened, but – fuck – even my ex-girl won’t acknowledge I exist anymore with this and I knew I shoulda been honest about it but-“

“This ex-girl...” Sansa suddenly found herself left with a sour taste in her mouth. “... does she still mean something to you?”

Jon licks at his lips, his eye falling briefly to her own. “No, ma’am,” he shakes his head.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #wip wednesday #but late #oops

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jasmine-tea-latte · 4 years

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I enjoyed putting together a list of my favorite Zutara fics for Zutara Fanworks Appreciation Week back in November, so I decided to do it again!

Below are 10 more that I’ve discovered in the last month or so that I’ve read and fallen in love with (all rated General / Teen - I’ll do a separate one for the Mature / Explicit ones later).

~*~*~

Souvenirs We Never Lose – Taliax

Rated T

Zuko remembers what Katara said about the spirit water. Now there are two scars to heal, and both his and Katara's feelings are more complicated—but if he wants to erase the past, she's willing to help. She owes him that much, and more.

~*~*~

Moirai – LadyAniko

Rated T

WIP

Long-term side effects of a lightning strike, Katara read, one night by flickering candlelight beside Zuko’s bed, her eyes itching with exhaustion: persistent neurological weaknesses, particularly nerve and muscle damage; severe headaches, trouble concentrating, and memory loss. Or: Katara navigates a post-war world trying to rebuild itself and particularly grapples with changes regarding Zuko.

~*~*~

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand - sofileall

Rated G

Sokka plans a camping trip for the gaang.What could go right?

~*~*~

Absolution – sadladybug

Rated T

It was the end of the world, only sooner than expected. It hadn't come with a blaze of light and flame like she had pictured in her nightmares. It had come with the rain. A Zutara one-shot in which Katara struggles with the aftermath of confronting Yon Rha.

~*~*~

Clothe Me in Seasons, Dress Me in Snow – sadladybug

Rated T

It is not the memorial she deserves, nor the one she would want. But it can't be helped. He owns no property in the other nations, and he needed to keep her close. Closer than she was in life, anyway. Zuko's reflections on a life lived and a life that could have been.

***Heads up – you will be absolutely devastated by the end of this one (maybe even before) but it’s oh so worth it. This is one of those fics that I’ll accept as canon over what we actually got even though it shredded my heart into a million pieces. You’ve been warned.

brb, someone’s chopping onions in here.

~*~*~

Imaginary Skies – antarcticas

Rated T

WIP

Prince Zuko comes to the South Pole intending to manage trade relations with Chief Hakoda and keep peace between the nations. He does, but not in the way he expects.

~*~*~

the way you make me feel - caroes3725

Rated T

WIP

What she hated the most was that she didn’t hate him. The night before Sozin's Comet, Katara comes to terms with her growing affection for a certain Fire Nation prince.

~*~*~

All the Lights are Shining - evergreen_on_the_horizon

Rated T

WIP

Zuko just wants to get through the winter solstice without acknowledging its existence. Thanks to Uncle, Azula, and a secret society, he may just end up getting into the holiday spirit and finding exactly what he wasn't looking for in the first place.

~*~*~

crestfallen on the landing - silversunset

Rated G

She could still feel his scar, the distorted skin rough between her fingers. Then reality came crashing down; the fleeting feeling of hope vanished and the moment ended. Trust was broken, betrayal so thick they both choked on it.

[or; Katara and Zuko, after the crossroads of destiny]

~*~*~

The Wisdom of Rivers - edelweiss123

Rated T

WIP

Azula doesn't get the chance to manipulate her brother before the battle in the caves beneath Ba Sing Se. Some things stay the same, but for others, it's a destiny... diverted.

~*~*~

Have fun reading, my fellow Zutarians!

#zutara fanfiction #zutara fic rec #zutara #zuko #katara #zuko x katara #fanfiction

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unioncolours · 3 years

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A 2nd Majsasaurus Year!

Today, 22nd of September 2021, it’s been two years since I officially joined the magical world of fandom. 22.9.2019 I uploaded the first chapter to my fic Shadows and Sand, and the rest is history.

I did a deep dive into my first year as a fic writer and active member of fandom last year, when it was my first anniversary. You can read it here!

In that meta discussion about my membership of fandom, I presented it as if walking on clouds. I was so, so happy and talked during all the discussion about my happiness in fandom.

Since that post was written, my life and also my perception of the fandom I am part of has changed. Change isn’t always bad, as I really had a honeymoon phase with fandom over a year ago, and the low after hit hard.

But let’s see what I’ve been up to and what I’ve been writing! The following year provided much change and fun things! Please keep reading 💜⬇

The first fic I wrote since 22.9.2020 was a Sakura x Ino fic. I had for a longer while been interested in writing a woman-loves-woman ship, which I had never done before, and as a wlw-person myself the urge to explore that part led to Promise me this is just a kiss. The pairing itself was chosen on rather random, it had to be two women and I like Ino, so I chose the most popular Ino-wlw ship for this for convenience.

I really liked writing the fic and it was well-received! It was the first time I had written a fic that was entirely centred around exploring feelings and having sex.

After this I jumped directly onto the next idea that had been boiling inside me for a longer while. Up to this point, all I had written, except the wlw-fic, had been set in the Naruto canonverse and I was itching to try to work with a multi-chaptered modern au! The pairing was of course my beloved Shikadai x Inojin.

It was during the creation of this fic I began to struggle. This was a new genre, as this was romance only and all my other works had been action and fantasy based, except the sex fic of course. I was maybe over critical and stressed, which resulted in me having a hard time writing it. But I made it. Was the sky always this beautiful? ended up being 35k long, and in hindsight, I freaking love, love, love how it turned out in the end and what it represented. I am very proud of this fic.

I “upgraded” as a fan by the end of October when I bought myself a digital drawing tablet. I began drawing fanart of Shikadai and Inojin and preferably them two together, haha! I still draw a few days a month and find it extremely fun as a side hobby beside the writing.

We are now in November 2020. By this time, I had completely finished my zine fic, Under the Scorching Sun, which I had written during September and October, for the Shikatema zine I was kindly accepted to. I was proud of what I had created and was eager for the rest of the contributors to wrap up theirs, so we’d have a wonderful zine for sale in 2021. It was lovely to write ShikaTema again. As the zine fic was about to be released in months from when I had at first finished it, I wanted of course to write something fans and friends could immediately take part of on the internet. I had hyped myself up to a state where I wanted to write a third and final story in my series To love and never let go, my epic series about Shikadai and Inojin.

Now, I should maybe have waited another month, but I was worried the readers would give up on me if I didn’t write it right away. In December, I began writing To find hope in the Universe, with my usual speed and love for the art.

What I by then didn’t realise or even recognise was that I was very slowly turning burned out. I ignored all the signs.

In December I wrote simultaneously as Hope in the Universe a fic that was part of the Shikatema server’s Secret Santa event. The fic’s name was The Ghost Stories of our Hearts, and it was ShikaTema, as the event’s name suggests. It was fun to write and despite the final big fic, Hope in the Universe, pressing down on me, I finished The Ghost Stories of our Hearts and was very happy with the result. Sadly, at this point the burnout began taking control over me, and I never managed to reply to the comments.

The 15th of January, I began uploading To find hope in the Universe. It was a lovely experience, even if it was tainted by negative feelings coming from my decreasing happiness and the fact that it didn’t do as well as To dance above the Stars, the second fic in the series. To deal with two very contradiction emotions, loving my work, the characters, how I have painted an entire world around the characters and how I knew some people honestly loved my hard work, and then the negative feelings coming from not feeling good enough and depressed, was a difficult thing to navigate and still is when I think back to that time. It didn’t help that during the process of uploading the fic I went through grief, and I chose distraction as my coping method. I kept writing and working, the only thing I ever knew.

Our pre-order of the Shikatema zine was in full motion by this time and it was a nerve-wracking time! Mostly because of excitement but also worry. I’m super happy for my friends who were part of the zine, with whom I could share all the excitement and nervousness with. The zine ended up making good sales, which made me happy among the uploading of the long fic.

To find hope in the Universe was completed 31st of March 2021. When I uploaded the final chapter, I felt nothing. It was so weird, so spooky, to have finished a long fic and a series on top of that and not feel anything. But deep down, beneath the layer of depression, I felt great pride.

That was the emotion that broke free once the burnout left me. Pride.

I had created this empire of Shikajin, a whole alternative timeline, an alternative canon from my own head and to this day, that is my internet legacy. I love Trial of the Heart, which I wrote in 2020, but if I have to choose between ToH and this series, I will choose To love and never let go in a heartbeat.

So, even if it felt depressing and hopeless in the moment, I look now back with pride and happiness. Never forget that. Never forget that I made that.

April was a curious time. I swore to not write anything, because I had by now recognised that I was burned out and needed to rest, yet managed to scrape together three smaller fics.

The first one was another wlw-smut fic, TemaSaku this time called Another Light. I wanted to explore that part once again. I wrote it in canonverse and honestly think the fic ended up extremely nice. Perfect amount of feels and sex. It didn’t feel hard to write at all, because the setting, characters and emotions were so different from the fics I had written the last five months.

Now more interesting things lay on the horizon! A new zine, the Ino-Shika-Cho zine called Beyond a Bond had an interest check during the spring, and later the contributor application. I urged in the interest check to please give us the next gen kids, Shikadai, Inojin and Chocho – my kids and babies, and when it turned out they were going to feature, I had to apply as a writer. For this application I wrote a one shot, called It’s just hair, and I loved this spunky little story featuring the best babies that I created.

I also edited one of my tumblr fics, And then I kissed him, into a longer, better version that I later in May uploaded onto AO3. It was once again a Shikajin, a sequel of Trial of the Heart, and it was a fun little project.

Now May came and I sent in the application for the zine early, which I now am relieved I did. I am happy that I did the work for the application in April instead of May, because in May I had a few breakdowns and another grieving period, which lead to complete creative paralysis. I didn’t write a single word during May, only uploaded the two one shots I had prepared in April.

What I did do in May was to read through the Shikatema zine I had contributed to! It arrived in the mail! I was so nervous; my whole body was shaking when I opened the package right outside the post office. The zine now resides on the parade place in my little zine shrine in the bookshelf. Thank you to the mods who made this a reality!

To my great happiness my zine adventures continued as I was accepted to the Ino-Shika-Cho zine as a writer and was assigned to write my favourite characters. I felt so relieved and overjoyed, mind blown by the sheer talent among the contributors.

On the other fandom front, June didn’t continue any brighter, with stress and mental pain still having a strong grip around me, despite the very happy news that I am still so grateful for. I wrote a Yamanaka family fic which to this day hasn’t seen the light of AO3, because of negative emotions surrounding it. I turned into a complete wreck compared to me in June 2020. In June 2020 I was flourishing, I loved what I did, I loved fandom and I loved the friends I had made through Discord servers. Now I could find myself crying my eyes out over a wip not going the way I wished it would. What had happened to Bex 2021?

I was so incredibly frustrated with myself, groaning in defeat when my hands just couldn’t write. I managed to push through 6k of what I called my “emo au” – more of that later – and finish the Yamanaka fic which is still buried, and on top of that I had the zine and another fandom event, The Naruto Photo Album, to create content for. Why couldn’t I do it? Why couldn’t I find happiness in something that once was my reason for happiness?

In the end, I managed to write 15k in June. My former monthly word count used to be 30k. One could think this would turn into the end of my fic writing career, or the beginning of a longer hiatus, but I am stubborn and want to meet the expectations of the people who love my content, so I didn’t want to give up. I wanted to try. I wanted to be whoever I was before.

Funnily enough, the healing came in the shape of the most self-indulgent fic I have ever, ever written, a fic I like possessed began writing July the 1st 2021. It was nothing less than a freaking fairy tale AU, namely a Shikadai x Inojin Peter Pan AU. I can hear you laugh at the silliness of it, but this whimsical AU gave me back my love for writing. I hyper-fixated on this story quite a bit and stopped writing on everything else, something I almost never do.

Only happy boys fly ended up being 21 000 words long! I knew it was a niched story, and true to my guesses, the story has to this day very low stats. Today, two months after it was published, it has just above 100 hits and 10 kudos, so for all I know, only ten people read and liked it. I try to not care too much, since I love the story and in some way, that story saved me from going batshit insane over my emotions about writing.

At this point I had begun writing my fic from the Ino-Shika-Cho zine, finding joy in silly scenes with my favourite characters and trying to heal. The writing process was frustratingly slow, but one word at a time I got forward and as of today, the draft is done. The pre-orders are in December. At the side of the zine fic I wrote a short fluffy Shikajin story, CLEAR, a story with almost no plot, because I knew how much self-indulgence could help me.

And then, I finally began writing for real on my emo au, A gang of fallen stars, which has the first few chapters up right now! I have for the first time in six months a longer fic (if we don’t count the Peter Pan story) and it feels… good. This fic is once again a modern au, but in darker tones than my other modern au from November 2020. I honestly like what I have so far, even if I during June and July almost planned to never finish it. I am so relieved I managed to begin the upload. In September the Photo Album was released and I could show my two fics I wrote for it.

It sounds like this year has been nothing but misery, and at times it felt like it. However, there are a few fandom friends who brought light to my life when I couldn’t see it. The first ones to mention are of course my partners in crime, @notquitejiraiya and @thespookymoth. Together we created a server dedicated to Ino-Shika-Cho during the spring and it has been tons of fun with the members there! Thank you two for listening to me and for being my friends during 2021.

I also have to mention Soverel, who carefully begun taking contact through comments and likes on my twitter, and later through direct messages, and it has been a fun ride ever since. We’ve had lovely discussions which are very dear to me and your support means a lot to me. Thank you for being you and for drawing so many wonderful artworks you’ve shared with me. Haha, and for making me play Genshin Impact, even though I do it like twice a month!

Another person who has made my days so much brighter is @sugarriene. Thank you for sending me that one dm that made us chat regularly, thank you for popping up and sharing panels and your wonderful drawings with me, and for vibing head canons with me. You are a lovely person, and you make me happy.

Finally, I want to give a shout out to @yoboseyokyu for listening to me when I had to yell into the void and for making me happy with your cute posts on both twitter and tumblr.

Since September 2020, I’ve written around 195 000 words and drawn close to 35 illustrations, most of them of Shikadai and Inojin. Almost 200 000 words of Majsasaurus. I’ve created a Discord server and I’ve been part of two zines as a writer, plus a free PDF-project.

It has been a wild year. A year filled with passion for my favourite characters and ship, with the excitement that came with being part of projects and hyping them. It was a year where I learned to draw digitally, and heck what fun it was.

This also a year where I learned people can be mean to me because of what I ship and that fandom friends won’t necessarily always stay to be your friend anymore and how much it can hurt. I also learned what my limits are, and what punishment I get if I don’t listen to my own mind and rest when I have to.

It was a year, guys.

Now, onto the third Majsasaurus Year. Cheers!

And those of you, who supported me when I needed it – thank you and I love you.

#majsasaurus

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pencilofawesomeness · 3 years

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Author Self-Interview

tagged by: @ljf613

Name: Pencil

Fandoms: *deranged laughter* Too many. I have written (and published) work for Fairy Tail, Genshin Impact, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Voltron: Legendary Defender, the Arrowverse, ~Disney~, RWBY, and Transformers: Prime. I have also written for Seven Deadly Sins, My Hero Academia, DC/Batman, Avengers, Danny Phantom, and soooo many others, but those are all WIPs and such. As for fandoms, well, there’s Miraculous Ladybug, Tales of Arcadia, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Tower of God, and more. I bounce around, and I never really leave anything behind, even if other interests are more at the forefront.

Where do you post: AO3. I used to, waaaaaay back in the dark days, post on ff.net, but not only have I forgotten my password, but I don’t like the interface as much, nor the things I posted when I was a Child, so AO3 it is.

Most popular multi-chapter fic: Of Dragons and Fairies, so says my AO3 statistics.

Most popular oneshot: Sparks in the Night, which I by no means expected, being that it was a fun little thing I wrote pretty much in one night. Technically it’s two chapters, but I originally wasn’t going to post the second part I wrote, but decided to later, so I would’ve made it a one-shot, probably, had I thought things through. Besides, it’s only 3k, so that’s a one-shot in my book.

The “real” most popular one-shot would be Never Forgotten by Pencil-actually-made-it-one-chapter logic.

Favorite story you’ve written so far: F-favorite? Oh. Oh well, um, I have really, really enjoyed the How to Raise Your Dragon Slayer series, far more than I thought I would when I started Of Dragons and Fairies for the kicks and giggles. That said, my favorite installment so far is probably The Eighth Tower, but one of my favorite things I think I have written is a massive one-shot that’s an MHA-style FMA fic, except that I lost it in a harddrive crash and haven’t re-written it. ;-;

Fic you were nervous to post: I don’t know if I’m ever really nervous? I generally post things and accept whatever outcome (even though I always hope it’s well received, because I’m a selfish author who likes validation). That said, it would definitely be United. That story was, and still is, one of my favorite brain-children, but I guessed that it wouldn’t be popular, and I was right. I haven’t written on it in a long time, though I have always wanted to circle back to it eventually; I just figured I had time to follow my current interests, since nobody else was chomping at the bit. One day my child, one day...

How do you choose your titles: Heh. Heheheh. HAHAHAHA. Very carefully, actually, even though sometimes I try to just slap something on a page anyway because it needs one. Most of the time, I try to capture the theme of the story—or at least one of the core ones—and allow it to both serve as a descriptor and as a note that would tie the story together and highlight the theme. Though I do appreciate allusions, and I like to include those as well. (If anyone wants to send me an ask about how I came up with a specific title, I will gladly give my thought process.) Unfortunately, chapter titles—as much as I try—rarely get as much inspiration as the fic title.

Do you outline: Y— Yesssssss.... Sort of. I try. Ironically, my most comprehensive outlines exist as Spotify playlists. That said, HTRYDS probably has the best outline of anything I’ve written, though Tales of Valor had a decent outline as well.

Complete: Mostly just one-shots—I’m actually pretty bad at completing things, heheh—but there’s a few. Outside of an ongoing series, Finding Home is my only completed multi-chapter. Inside of a series, but existing as comprehensive arcs, I have Of Dragon and Fairies and The Eighth Tower.

Edit: Oh! And it’s short, but The Recruitment Spiel is an Art But Destiny Took the Fun Out of It is complete! And multi-chapter. Yeah.

Do you accept prompts: Kinda. I’m accepting prompts and ideas for extra scenes for the HTRYDS series, though I’ll tailor them to fit my canon if necessary. Generally, I have so many things of my own to write, any prompt I got would be placed in the back of the line (unless I got super inspired, which happens) but I do enjoy prompts, provided they’re not super shippy or specific.

Upcoming story you’re most excited to write about: Well, that untitled I-have-to-write-it-again oneshot for FMA that I mentioned is definitely something I want to do and post eventually. As for what I’m actively working on, I am really excited for the next HTRYDS arc (I’ve been trudging through TLS to get to it, ngl) which will be titled Demon Tales. There’s also this Seven Deadly Sins TOG AU I’ve had rolling around, though I may not continue that the way I had planned because 4KOTA gave me more ammo.

Stories you’re most excited to read: Hmmm. I have quite a few things queued in my Marked for Later list, some that I’ve started and some that I wanted to check out, but as to what I have been currently reading/following, the Poisoned Dreams Continuity by StrangeDiamond (AO3), which is currently inbetween fics, and Homuncular Nature by Otaku553 are a couple of things I have been following. I also read a lot of Webtoons, and I have some Tower of God to catch up on, and Room of Swords and Lore Olympus are always welcome updates. I’m currently perusing some of my Marked for Laters, and in regular searches, to see what my next few reads will be. (Feel free to send me recs, but I also got a hefty stack of ATLA fics to check out, I know.)

tagging @therosefrontier @ladylynse and @blueskyscribe (if y’all want to, of course)

#tagging game #writing #shameless self plug #fairy tail #htryds #voltron #genshin #disney #arrowverse #this was fun

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Sunlight Through the Window (Sashea) - Mock-Star

Hi yes I know it’s been months since the AS5 finale but school and the pandemic kicked my ass plus this fic ran off in a different direction than I was planning. Also yes one particular scene may have been written because I’m mad at one of the frats at my school.

Set post Rona, Sasha tries to find a way to congratulate Shea on her win during a group trip.

This is cannon divergent, which means for me and my writing that the show happened but everyone is their drag personas. (so in this case she/her pronouns are used for both of them but the smut is written as MM if that makes since).

(Also for any new writers out there, SAVE EVERYTHING because this is also a frankenfic of 2 different abandoned wips along with the new writing)

Sasha was lounging in the bay window of her room in the rental house responding to a few last business emails when Shea snuck up beside her.

“I think they’re getting ready to start dinner because your help has been requested."

"Ok, I just need to finish this last email and then I’ll be done for the rest of vacation and I’ll come downstairs."

Shea smiled in confirmation, but Sasha could tell she had something else on her mind as she squatted down to hug her.

"Thank you for agreeing to come and room with me. It means a lot to me and I’m so glad to finally get to spend some time with you.”

“Thank you for asking me. I still feel bad that I wasn’t able to celebrate with you when you won last year."

"Baby, that was beyond your control. Miss Rona ruined a lot of plans. And plus you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.” Shea kissed her cheek, and Sasha leaned into it.

“For two whole weeks! I can’t believe all of us were actually able to clear out that much room in our schedules!”

“I know! We all definitely need it. I’ll see you downstairs.” Shea said as she stood up and walked out, closing the door behind her.

Sasha hit send on her last email and closed her laptop, then pulled out her phone and went to her messages with Shea.

*“Hey, can I ask you a question?”*

*“Sure. Is everything ok?”*

*“Oh yeah, everything’s fine. Some Chicago queens and I are planning on renting a beach house together now that it’s safe to do so. We need a few more people to get the best deal. Do you want to come with? We’d be sharing a room, but I think others are inviting other New York people.”*

*“Oh my god a beach vacation sounds amazing! Send me some potential dates and prices and I’ll see if I can manage it.”*

*“You’re the best! Sending now!”*

Sasha smiled as the conversation auto refreshed and took her to Shea’s newest message, a close up picture of one of their friends making a silly face. Running footsteps and laughter erupted from downstairs as Shea shrieked at the culprit to give her phone back through laughter.

Later that night, Sasha slipped away to charge her phone, laying down on her bed to send a quick text to a friend. She was more tired than she thought though, because she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, falling asleep in her clothes on top of the covers.

The dull ache of her knees after kneeling on the ground for an extended period of time.

The sharper ache of her jaw after working overtime.

The cramp in her hand after staying in the same position for a while.

The weight of the hard dick in her mouth, pushing dangerously against her gag reflex.

The salty taste of sweat and precum in her throat.

The clammy hands clutching her head.

The rocking of hips.

The whimpers and moans that filled the room .

Her name spilling from stuttering lips.

Nails digging into her scalp.

Eyes flickering up to see her partner losing it.

Eyes meeting, and Shea whispering her name as her crown flickered in the light.

“Sash… fuck babe.”

Sasha woke up with a start when she heard loud banging coming from outside, and she sat up enough to see bright colors peaking through the curtains.

“Fireworks?” She mumbled, trying to make sense of the situation in her groggy state, the details of her dream sticking in her mind.

“Must be the frat a few doors down.” Shea said, and Sasha turned her body enough to see Shea sitting up in the bed next to hers with a book and book light.

“What? How?"

"How do I know that it’s a frat? When those of us who checked us in went to go find main street we saw them in the front yard trying to raise a flag with their letters. I think it said "KA”. Shea answered her question before she could articulate it.

“Kappa…Alpha?"

"I wouldn’t know, either way they might end up catching these hands because they woke you up.” Shea’s answer made Sasha blush slightly, although she was too groggy to articulate why. She reached to adjust her glasses, only to find them missing. She turned towards the bedside table to find them there, next to her phone, still plugged in. It was at this point Sasha realized she was under the covers, tucked in around her legs, still fully dressed.

“It crossed my mind briefly to strip you down to your underwear, but your clothes weren’t visibly dirty, and I didn’t want you to freak out when you woke up.” Shea said, answering her next question. Even though she was tired, her mind latched on to the idea of Shea undressing her and picking her up and tucking her in, and she knew she had to push it out of her mind as she took off her pants under the covers and let them fall to the floor.

“What time is it?” She asked, and Shea reached for her phone to turn it on.

“3am. I’ve been awake since about 2:30 because I had to go to the bathroom and couldn’t go back to sleep.” Shea responded, answering her next question before she could ask it. “I’m going to try and go back to sleep after this chapter, but you should go back to sleep."

"I didn’t mean to actually fall asleep." She said, head already on the pillow and drifting off.

"It’s ok, you needed it. I worry about you not getting enough sleep sometimes. Rest well Sasha, see you in the morning.” She said something else as well, but Sasha was already too drowsy to hear her. When she woke up in the morning, Shea was still asleep, and seeing her made her remember her dream and the groggy conversation she had with Shea, and a warmth went through her, obsessed with the idea.

Unlike what the fans might have thought (or wished for), there was no “winners orgy”, although it did sound fun-ish. Possibly even more shocking, she and Shea had never done anything more than kiss in the brief down moments during shows, soft enough so as to not mess up their makeup, more friendly and good luck wishes than anything. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to explore their mutual attraction, it was that it was never convenient. They certainly weren’t allowed during filming, and they rarely had time alone together without duties or other people in the way, if they were even in the same state. The attraction never went away though, so it didn’t surprise Sasha when a innocent enough cheek kiss lounging by the pool turned into a make out session in the bay window of their shared room the next night, the music and laughter of their fellow houseguests seeming both far away and too close for comfort.

Shea’s kisses were addictive, and with the red wine warmth running through her veins and the heat of the setting sun on her skin, Sasha was utterly seduced. A soft groan escaped despite her efforts to swallow it, and Shea chuckled, catching her off guard when the air tickled her lips. Shea slowly shifted both of them so that Sasha was on her back and Shea was kneeling above her, still kissing her the entire time while Sasha held on to Shea’s shirt. She suddenly broke away, and Sasha pouted until Shea’s lips found her neck. Shea clearly had a plan in mind, and Sasha felt her hands slip underneath her shirt, which had already ridden up and exposed a small section of her stomach. Shea ducked down and pressed featherlight kisses against the exposed skin, rubbing Sasha’s sides with her thumbs, and she could have melted. Her face was flushed red, and she blinked away the tears that threatened to spill. It always surprised her how tenderly Shea treated her during those rare moments of intimacy. Those tight hugs that felt more protective and adoring than restrictive, always interrupted by other people or pressing duties. But this time, there was nothing to interrupt them. Even as Shea moved back up to her lips, the question hung in the air, and when Shea broke away to ask it out loud, her yes came instantly and easily. Shea picked her up and walked to the closest bed, making it to the end of the bed before lowering her onto it.

Her thighs were pressed into her stomach as the warmth of the dusk sun warmed her face almost uncomfortably. Attempts to touch herself were taken over by Shea after she observed Sasha’s movements to mimic them. The intimacy was overwhelming, and after the passion, the tears finally came, after Shea had rejoined her and laid down beside her. She rarely cried after sex, but the tears didn’t stop, silently streaking her face, cooling her flushed skin. She didn’t know if it was because of the sexual tension finally being resolved, because it had been so long since she last got laid, or simply her body trying to regulate itself, but Shea seemed to understand regardless, rubbing Sasha’s head as ot blissfully watched the sky finally go black.

The next morning, Sasha rolled out of bed, shivered, pulled on the closest shirt she found, and groggily stumbled to the bathroom, thankfully for the small nightlight that meant she didn’t have to turn on the actual lights. As she was washing her hands, she looked up at the mirror to check her reflection, and she gasped. In the low visibility of the bedroom, she had grabbed Shea’s shirt by mistake. For some reason, it seemed large on her even though they were roughly the same size, and she was trying to think of why Shea’s shirt would be on the ground near her bed before she remembered. She moved the collar of the shirt over a few inches to reveal the mouth-shaped bruise that had blossomed overnight. She peeked out the door to see that the sheets on the bed closest to the window, her bed, were suspiciously rumpled up, even hours later. The bed closest to the door had the sheets pulled back on one side, and Shea asleep on the other.

She pressed on the bruise on her neck with her thumb, and the ache that left it made her aware of all the aches in her body, ones that were clearly post-sex aches.

Post-sex.

“*Shea and I fucked last night. I wanted to. I enjoyed myself. I want to have sex with her again*"

The realization was not a hard one. But the thought was an epiphany nonetheless, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her, almost laughing as she leaned against the wall and soaked everything in.

She crept out of the bathroom, trying not to wake Shea up, but she seemed to be expecting her, turning towards her and slowly blinking, as if trying to adjust to the growing morning light coming from the window.

"Mornin’ cutie.” She whispered, biting her lip while Sasha awkwardly apologized for waking her up, but Shea chose to ignore it.

“I love the way you look in my clothes.” Shea cooed, and Sasha felt her cheeks go hot as Shea made no effort to hide her eyes trailing up and down Sasha’s body.

“What, no but?"

"Yours"

"Ok yeah I walked into that one.” Sasha chuckled, climbing back into bed next to Shea and letting her take the shirt back off and toss it on the ground when she asked. They stayed in bed until they heard others downstairs cooking breakfast, cuddling and kissing, Sasha blushing when Shea rolled her onto her back and kissed her from her shoulders to just above her groin before she let Sasha get up.

Sasha never thought she had a particularly high sex drive, but over the next few days, it was if a wildfire was inside her. No matter how long she and Shea spent in their room together, she was never satiated. Their bodies were like magnets, pulling together, desperately wanting to make up time. Their housemates only chuckled when they went into their room together. Admittedly, they did turn in earlier than everyone else more than one night, which they brushed off on being tired, which no one bought.

As the first week progressed, conversations turned towards Shea’s win multiple times, and each time, someone joked with Sasha about “congratulating” Shea, which was always met with laughter and Shea telling the person to “fuck off” while laughing herself. Sasha laughed too, but every time someone made the joke, the dream she had the first night played in her head, and she ached with the thought of kneeling in front of Shea, taking control of her pleasure.

Towards the end of the week, Sasha walked into the room to the sound of running water, Shea was taking a shower and had left the door open, something the both of them had gotten into the habit of doing so the other could get ready or use the restroom at the same time. The thought of getting in the shower with Shea entered Sasha’s mind, and she impulsively stripped down and slipped into the shower. She wasn’t entirely sure what her plan was, but all she could think about was her dream and making it come true. Shea turned towards her with a surprised look that quickly turned into a smile.

“Hey baby.” She cooed as she pulled Sasha closer to let the water douse her before Sasha could move closer herself. She wrapped her arms around her waist and squeezed her ass. Her charm was on 100, and Sasha almost forgot why she was in there in the first place. Pulling away slightly, she sank to her knees in front of her. She batted her eyes and bit her lip while she rubbed Shea’s legs up and down. Shea’s eyes went from confused and worried to recognition, and she smiled.

“Oh, that’s what you want, huh?” Sasha nodded, and Shea gently cupped her chin and tilted her head up more.

“Let’s go on the bed, okay baby? It’ll be more comfortable for both of us.” Sasha nodded, standing up and moving to get out, but Shea grabbed her arm.

“In a little bit…” she purred, pulling Sasha back towards her and gently pressing their lips together, finding Sasha’s ass again. Sasha could taste the booze on Shea’s lips and sense her exhilaration. She could feel a newly familiar warmth beginning to pool in her stomach, but she forced herself to ignore it, wanting tonight to be about Shea.

She began rubbing Shea’s sides in an attempt to be seductive. Shea gently nipped at her bottom lip, which Sasha took as approval.

“I’m still topping.” Shea mumbled. “Nice try though.”

Sasha choked, and Shea pulled away just enough to smirk at her as she patted her back to help her clear it.

“You ain’t slick, baby. You’ve never tried to take charge like this before. It’s super cute to see you try though.”

“I’m not trying to be cute.” She pouted slightly, trying to figure out how to vocalize the fact that it hadn’t even been a full week.

“But you are cute. You’re always cute. And sexy. ” Shea whispered, and Sasha’s face went hot as Shea’s fingers slipped between her ass cheeks and circled her hole, something Shea quickly learned would help her muscles relax. Her mind flashed to their first time, with images of the bedspread and distant and slightly muffled whispers of Shea dirty talking, and her legs twitched. Shea smirked before pulling away.

“Stay here, I’ll be back.”

She opened the curtain and went out before Sasha could say something, coming back a few moments later with a bottle that was instantly recognizable. She pulled Sasha closer with one hand and asked her for consent before turning her around, pressing her front against the wall and working her open with her fingers. Shea bent down to kiss her shoulders, she was clearly using what she knew to make Sasha putty in her hands, and it was working. She threw her head back onto Shea’s shoulder, and Shea kissed her cheek.

“Could, Could we go to bed now?” She gasped, and Shea let out an amused breath.

“Sure baby, as soon as we rinse off.”

Sasha was so antsy, the few minutes it took to finish up in the shower felt like an hour. Shea could definitely tell, and Sasha knew that she reveled in holding Sasha up in the shower, stepping out first and handing her a towel, drying herself off languidly. After Shea hung her towel back up, Sasha grabbed her hand and led her to the bed, waiting until Shea sat up against the headboard before crossing over to her suitcase and pulling out a felt crown, long forgotten from filming. She kept her back towards Shea as she put it together, and tried to decide what to say next.

“You know, I never got to congratulate you properly on your win.” She said as she turned around, trying her absolute hardest to sound seductive. Shea’s eyes got wide, and Sasha felt a little twinge of pride. ��

"You were planning this all along."

"Actually I wasn’t. I haven’t used this suitcase since filming. But I say it worked out well. My queen.” She whispered as she neared the bed and placed it on her head. “It’s not as pretty as your actual crown, but it will do.” Sasha cooed as she settled in between Shea’s legs, grabbing her thighs and adjusting them to rest on her shoulders. Shea reached out and cupped Sasha’s face, stroking her cheek with her thumb.

“The others didn’t put you up to this, did they? You texted me when the episode aired, that’s more than enough for me.” Shea asked, and Sasha could tell she was genuinely concerned.

“Shea, my love, I’ve been dreaming of this moment for a while, I promise. I want this if you want it too.”

Shea’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and she nodded, letting go of Sasha’s face.

“Are you ready, my queen?"

"Drop the queen stuff Sash, but yes. I’m ready."

Sasha purred, resisting the urge to say "my queen” again. She leaned in and pressed kisses against Shea’s length, warming both of them up before suckling at her tip, then taking her in her mouth.

She always went into a trance of sorts when she went down onto someone, losing track of time, focused on their pleasure alone. Licking up and down the shaft, gently sucking the balls, taking as much as she could as deep as she could. Sasha knew how to give a blow job, and she felt she did it well. Tonight though, she felt distracted. Shea’s gasps and moans echoed through her head, and all she could think about was Shea’s whispered teases in the shower. She tried to refocus herself on her task by peeking up at Shea, but she ended up gagging accidentally, and Shea immediately popped up.

“Easy baby, don’t choke yourself for my sake.” She cooed as she caressed Sasha’s face and grabbed the base of her own dick, preventing Sasha from going down that far. Shea leaned back onto the bed to allow Sasha to continue, her moans turning into breathy praises and compliments that turned Sasha’s face redder than it already was.

“Oh fuck yeah Sash”

“Your lips are heavenly oh my god.”

“Look at your pretty little ass, You’re so fucking hot and you’re the one sucking me off oh my god.”

Sasha was attempting to tune her out to no avail, she could hear and understand every word that came out of Shea’s mouth, and Shea knew that, spilling out the compliments and dirty talk until her voice changed and she said something that made Sasha pull off of her and push herself onto her elbows.

“..What?” she croaked out, her overworked mouth struggling to form words, knowing full well what was said. Shea reached out and caressed her face again, eyes dark with desire.

“Sit on my face. Please”

Sasha nodded shakily as she turned around so she was straddling Shea’s torso, and her ass was near Shea’s face. She reached out to continue when Shea grabbed her hips and yanked her upwards.

“Turn around and grab onto the headboard.” Shea growled, and Sasha obeyed, a bit shell shocked. She felt Shea shift down, and she put her knees on either side of her head. Shea grabbed her hips again and maneuvered her where she wanted her, growling in satisfaction before diving in, licking circles and lines, gripping her hips tighter before inserting her tongue into her, moving with Sasha when she instinctively jolted up and guiding her back down as she relaxed.

There was a million things bouncing around Sasha’s brain, words that would form but then get stuck, leaving her mouth as incoherent moans and groans. But Sasha thought Shea would almost appreciate that more. She rested her head on her hands as she moaned, relaxing her body, letting sensation fully wash over her. She felt Shea’s hands travel up her body, to her ribs and and chest, briefly rubbing her nipples before trailing her hands back down as a wave of electricity went through Sasha’s body, sending her up again with a hiss and guiding her back down with trembling hips, her thighs beginning to reflexively squeeze Shea’s head slightly, with every attempt to make it stop making it worse.

Suddenly, Shea stopped, pushing her up gently so she could slide out from beneath her, sitting up and hugging Sasha from behind as she hung onto the headboard still, her fingers unable to move.

“Are you ok to go further Babydoll?” Shea whispered, and Sasha nodded, letting go of the headboard and twisting around to hold onto Shea, who picked her up and sat her back down on the edge of the bed on her back, putting the felt crown back on when Sasha grabbed it and held it out to her as she stood up, her legs trembling a bit as well as she put on a condom, offering her a drink from a glass of water on the bedside table before taking a drink herself, then guiding Sasha down onto her back as she swished the water in her mouth.

Shea held on to her hips and then slid up to her thighs, holding her legs in place and adjusting them so she could have access to all of her. Shea gazed at her for a moment before grabbing a pillow and putting it underneath her, raising her hips up a little, and Sasha felt something deep in her stomach, something warm and desperate.

“You ready?” Shea asked, and Sasha nodded.

“I need you to say yes or no, love."

"Yes.” Sasha whispered, and she watched Shea’s eyes darken with intense focus as she started thrusting, holding Sasha’s hips still as she tried to bounce with her, grabbing her hand and placing it near her crotch, indicating she wanted Sasha to stroke herself.

Within 30 seconds, the felt crown had fallen off Shea’s head onto Sasha’s chest, and Shea brushed away from her reach before Sasha could hand it back to her, and Sasha turned to watch it fall off the bed.

“Hey, I need to see your face. You don’t have to look me in the eyes, but I need to be able to gauge your comfort, ok?” Shea asked, gently turning Sasha’s head back to face her, and Sasha nodded and whispered something resembling an acknowledgment and an apology, which Shea responded to by letting go of her chin, rubbing her head soothingly, and then straightening back up and resuming, continually adjusting Sasha’s hips. Sasha only figured out what she was trying to do moments before she was successful, practically slamming her head into the bed when Shea found her g-spot. Shea rocked against it for a bit, looking absolutely entranced as Sasha’s legs trembled against her shoulders and the rest of her body writhed, smoothly moving back into her previous rhythm when it became clear Sasha would finish too quickly otherwise. Shea clearly wanted to make sex last as long as possible, frequently switching up the length and the speed of her thrusts, gazing at Sasha to see if she liked it, changing it up if she needed to. And it did last a while before Shea’s hips became less forceful and Sasha could tell

she was painfully close, maybe even attempting to hold herself back from orgasm. But any potential attempts were to no avail, as Shea knelt down on the bed and leaned in for a kiss before her body tightened and released with a groan, and Sasha could feel her shaking inside of her, but it wasn’t enough to bring her to her own orgasm, even as she kept on stroking herself.

Shea slowly blinked as her head cleared, making hazy eye contact with Sasha and softly smiling before running her eyes down the rest of her body and seeing that Sasha was nowhere close to finishing. Her eyes lit up, and before Sasha knew it, Shea had scooted her into the middle of the bed and crawled between her legs, groaning in anticipation.

She looked up at Sasha and batted her eyes, waiting for her to nod and whisper breathlessly before ducking down and gently sucking on one of her balls. Sasha’s reaction was immediate, she squirmed and gasped out. That was something else Shea learned early on, she seemed to know exactly what Sasha liked before she could tell her. Shea knew Sasha so well, and so it would make sense that her body was no exception. It also made sense that it barely took any time at all once Shea started sucking for Sasha to finish, Shea’s name on her lips as her thighs shook around Shea’s head.

Next thing Sasha knew, Shea was straddling her and kissing her, stroking her cheek and whatever piece of skin was closest, entangling the two of them into a cage of limbs, which is where they stayed for as long as they could, until Sasha had to get up and excuse herself to the bathroom. When she walked back out, Shea had switched beds, and Sasha had a bit of a deja vu moment to a few days ago, only instead of Shea being asleep, she was sitting up and smiling at her, motioning for her to join her. She strided over to the bed and got under the covers with Shea and went into her arms the moment they were held out, resting her head on her chest and nuzzling into her, thinking about nothing besides the current moment and all the moments before.

Soon enough she would deal with the dread of leaving Shea and this place, separated by miles, cities, and schedules, she wanted to savor every second she could without it being tainted by anxiety.

“I love you.” Shea whispered, “I love you so fucking much.”

Sasha barely heard her, and she sensed it wasn’t for her as much as it was for Shea to say it out loud, so she nuzzled Shea’s chest and ran her hand across her torso, mundane enough to be coincidental, but hopefully acknowledging and reciprocating enough for Shea to understand.

Downstairs, one of their friends called out, asking about a trip to a ice cream parlor, and Sasha and Shea looked at each other and held each other for a few more seconds before getting up and getting dressed, Shea leaving first with one last kiss so as to not seem suspicious, even though no one would buy it. Sasha looked out the window one last time at the sunset as she grabbed her bag, then went out the door, ready for whatever adventure was next.

#rpdr fanfiction #sasha velour #shea coulee #sashea #mock star #canon compliant #smut #fluff #s9 #as5

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destieltropecollection · 4 years

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Destiel Trope Collection 2020 Day 20: Mutual Pining

An Old Feeling | @deservetobesaved

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1741 Main Tags/Warnings: post season 12, jealous!dean, love confession Summary: Castiel thinks Dean will never love him back so he decides to try and move on. Cue jealous!Dean and confessions galore.

To Catch a Spark | zaphodsgirl (AO3)

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2364 Main Tags/Warnings: Misunderstandings, Fluff Summary: Cas has been acting pretty clumsy lately and Dean is a little worried.

Falling Awake | @specsofwings

Rating: General Word Count: 2530 Main Tags/Warnings: Love confessions, Cas and Dean being idiots, The Cosmic Entity Summary: After Michael is killed by Team Free Will 2.0, Dean ends up in the Empty, Michael's grace pulling a sliver of his consciousness there. The Cosmic Entity calls him out on not realising Castiel is in love with him. Dean needs to decide what to do with that information as he wakes up home.

Personal Space | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2859 Main Tags/Warnings: NSFW, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot. Masturbation, Masturbation Interruptus, Voyeur Castiel Summary: It’s been four weeks since the last time Dean actually had time for himself and he just wants to crawl into his bed and finally jack off. Sadly he says a certain name and Castiel shows up and not to interrupt.

That Game We Played | @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3139 Main Tags/Warnings: Valentine's Day, Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Men of Letters Bunker, Broken Thermostat, Castiel is Not Oblivious, Naked Cuddling Summary: “You know what?” Dean mutters, mostly to himself. He really is trying to be less of a jerk - but he can’t seem to help it. It’s Valentine’s day, and it’s hot. So he decides to stop talking, and takes off his jacket, a deep blue leather utility, and shucks it away on a counter. Cas seems to find this interesting, his eyes following Dean around the room; so then Dean does the first thing that comes to mind. He walks over to Cas, and holds his hand out. Cas stares at it, like he’s trying to figure out the purpose of its existence. Dean helps him, because he’s awesome like that. “Your coat.” Because why the fuck not?

Get out of my head | @notfunnydean

Rating: General Word Count: 3216 Main Tags/Warnings: Cursed, Mind Reading, dean and cas get cursed, mind reading Summary: When a witch puts some sort of spell on Dean and Castiel, they start to hear each other’s thoughts. Dean tries very hard to keep a secret, but Castiel has to insist.

May I ask for this dance | @notfunnydean

Rating: General Word Count: 3225 Main Tags/Warnings: Dean needs Cas' help on a case, Masquerade Ball, dancing on his feet Summary: When Dean asks Castiel to accompany him at an undercover investigation at a masquerade ball, to find the witch who killed a lot of people, Castiel wants it to be a date. Only problem, he can’t dance, so he asks Sam for help.

You aren't a monster | @notfunnydean

Rating: General Word Count: 3782 Main Tags/Warnings: misunderstandings Summary: When Bobby and Sam start to believe Castiel is actually on the bad side, Dean tries to defend his angel. He wouldn’t let them kill his best friend but unfortunately Castiel hears the wrong snippet of the conversation and ends up hurting Dean badly.

And I swear | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4413 Main Tags/Warnings: two idiots in love, Jealous!Cas, Arthur is not in the fic but mentioned a lot, Abusive Relationships, hurt!Dean, Break Up Summary: Dean knows that Arthur is treating him badly, but he had worse in his life and besides, it’s not like the person he really loves wants him back.

your eyes will lead me straight back home | @elizaeverafter

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4602 Main Tags/Warnings: no archive warnings apply, fake/pretend relationship, mutual pining, fluff, light angst, romantic comedy, friends to lovers, au modern setting, jealousy, castiel POV Summary: When Dean hatches a plan to go to Charlie's wedding with Castiel to avoid being bothered about remaining single, Castiel knows this isn't going to go well. But he hasn't been able to refuse Dean so far, so why would this act of being in a relationship be any different? And if Castiel feels like exploding and blurting out his feelings the whole time, well, that's his problem.

The War Within You | @verobatto-angelxhunter

Rating: Mature Word Count: 9770 Main Tags/Warnings: Destiel, season 6 canon divergent, first kiss, mutual pining, slow burn, love confession, eventual Human!Cas, angst with a happy ending. Summary: Sam Is back from the cage but something is wrong with him, and Dean knows it. He must call Castiel for help... But not just for that... There's something forbidden burning inside him that makes his mind go crazy. He needs to be near the angel.

The Meaning of Everything | @verobatto-angelxhunter

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 17000 Main Tags/Warnings: Destiel, canonverse, post s14 canon divergent, mutual pining, first kiss, love confession, explicit sexual content, canon typical violence, angst with a happy ending, vessel sharing, winged Cas Summary: Chuck is the bad guy, and he broke with his snap Heaven, Hell and Purgatory. The chaos is all over the Earth. But Billie has a plan, they need to work together to raise Jack as the New God. Dean and Cas will try to solve their issues, but something unexpected will happen that will separate them again.

The Alpha Next Door (WIP) | @Destielshipper4Cas

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 16767 Main Tags/Warnings: Strangers to Lovers, First Time, Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean, Past Abuse Summary: When Cas is placed in WitSec, he gets a fake secondary gender designation to go along with his new name, ‘Jimmy.’ All he has to do until the boss of the omega trafficking ring he escaped is behind bars is keep a low profile, always apply his alpha scent, and not fall in love with an alpha. Well—two out of three ain’t too bad… Dean has never had a crush on an alpha before. Along comes his new neighbor, Jimmy, an alpha who is alphasexual. There’s just something about him, and to his utter confusion, he finds himself falling for an alpha for the first time in his life.

Guardian Angel | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 19486 Main Tags/Warnings: Homeless Dean Winchester, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Virgin!Dean, Abusive John Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence Summary: Everybody in the world has his own guardian angel, to keep them safe and protect them. Only "bad people" are without a guardian angel. Maybe that's why Dean is alone.

Little Blue Dragon | @saltnhalo

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 23820 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Magic, Blacksmith Dean Winchester, Mage Sam Winchester, Creature Castiel, Dragon Castiel, Pining, Soulmates, Minor Violence, Frottage Summary: Dean Winchester may have a reputation for being a skilled craftsman and blacksmith, but his life is just like anyone else’s. He’s over-worked and under-slept, and it’s all because of the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that tells him he’s… forgetting something. Still, he can’t let his weird dreams or errant thoughts get in the way of his work and his love for his craft. The strange feeling goes ignored. That is, until he meets a man with jewel-blue eyes and an aura of intrigue. Castiel slots into his life in a way that Dean had never thought possible, and Dean grows accustomed to the mysterious man’s visits and brilliant smiles and tales of far-away places. He’d never known he was missing a piece of himself until he met Castiel, and he thinks that Cas might feel the same way. Until Castiel disappears from Dean’s life completely.

Dislocation | @pray4jensen

Rating: Mature Word Count: 24514 Main Tags/Warnings: Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: After the sun is restored and the Woman of Letters banishes Castiel, he falls and becomes human, lost and alone in a place far from home. Four hundred and fifty-one days later, Sam finds him. He tells Castiel that Dean is alive. So they go. They go and they arrive at the bunker and Sam’s acting strange and there’s something that he’s not telling Castiel, something about Dean. And then Castiel finally reunites with Dean. And there is something about Dean. Something about Dean that has Dean pulling Castiel into tight embraces, something about Dean that has Dean running his thumb across Castiel’s cheek with a tender look in his eyes, and something about Dean that has Dean shaking when Castiel says certain things to him, things that are normal, things that should not affect him this way. There is something about Dean that no one is telling him.

Sending A Raven | @saltnhalo

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 38677 Main Tags/Warnings: Vikings, Magic, Temporary Character Death, Established Relationship, Leader Dean Winchester, Explicit Sexual Content, Violence, Dean/Cas Pinefest 2019, Viking Dean Winchester, Viking Castiel, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), BAMF Dean Winchester, Mutual Pining, Angst Summary: When Dean, the Viking jarl of Týrvik, leaves on a raid to combat the enemy warriors attacking their ships, his husband Castiel is left to protect and lead the village. The ships return barely a week later, with damaged timbers and a devastated, leader-less crew, and suddenly Castiel finds himself not only in a position of leadership for which he is ill-equipped, but terrified for the safety of his captured husband. With the possibility of a spy somewhere in the village’s midst, Castiel leaves his people under Sam’s care and departs on the journey north to where they think Dean is being held, in a desperate attempt to rescue him before it’s too late.

Twenty Years | @ioasccel

Rating: Mature Word Count: 39501 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst, pining, religious themes, Summary: A profound bond between a Priest and the one he loves the most that spans decades. Father Novak’s love of God is tested by one Dean Winchester. A story of a priest driven by love and tortured by desire. All about forbidden love, heart break, and an eventually a happily ever after.

It's A Long Life to Always Be Longing | @pomegranatedaffodil

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 40685 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergence, Spells and Enchantments, Road Trips, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: Dean’s life has always been dictated by duty rather than by need. So when Amara offers to give him the thing he needs most, he doesn’t know what to expect, but it certainly isn’t this: a chance to rest, some time away from his life and his burdens. Now he’s trapped in an enchanted sleep, unable to bring himself back to the waking world. It’s up to Sam and Castiel to gather the components of a spell that will bring Dean back to them. Through road trips, honest conversations, and a lot of patience, they’ll make sure Dean comes home. And when he does, maybe he and Castiel will finally have a chance to act on long-buried feelings brought to the surface by their enforced separation. Canon-divergent from the end of 11.23.

The Handyman's Special | @carrieosity

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 51456 Main Tags/Warnings: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Humor and Fluff, Human AU, Low-angst, Top!Castiel/Bottom!Dean Summary: Dr. Dean Winchester, professor of Mechanical Engineering, was full of confidence in his own abilities when he decided to purchase a fixer-upper house to rehab and remodel on his own. Now, standing in the middle of his new house and praying the floors won’t cave in, he’s realizing that determination and academic brilliance might only take him so far this time. The bigger problem: his overconfidence in the face of other people’s doubts (ahem, Sam) means that asking for help now will mean swallowing a whole lot of pride…and he’d rather not. Hiring a secret contractor to do the work without telling anyone seems like the perfect solution. Accidentally hiring an amazingly hot secret contractor wasn’t part of the plan. And when Sam overhears a conversation and starts connecting dots, a snap decision and another lie on top the first leads to a ridiculous balancing act of fake stories, pretend relationships, and one hell of a renovation tale.

Escaping Neverland | @emblue-sparks

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 84004 Main Tags/Warnings: Major Warning: Underage(only first 30k, no underage sex), Mental health issues, Identity issues, failed family placements, Mention of past traumas Tags: Adventure Romance AU with canon elements Storybook I-1995 Storybook II- 2015 Heavily inspired by Peter Pan,Completely Destiel despite first pairing, read to learn how, NO MCD(Sam Dean Cas)Canon character deaths, TAGS FOR 1995: Practices & rituals of Sumerian/Greek/Judeo Christian faiths, Dean/Jimmy slow burn, heart failure, kidney/pancreatic failure, dialysis, Found Family, John's the dad his kids deserve, LGBTQ positive parents, First kiss disaster, First DateHoliday, our island/our rules, sad boys, memorial rituals, Heart Transplant, Mourning Rituals TAGS FOR 2015: Everyone supports therapy, Incorrect demon summoning, Latin, Scottish Gaelic, Enochian, Professor/Rookie Hunter!Sam, Nurse!Dean, Orchard Owner/Beekeeper!Cas,Tattooed Dean, burger date, Frottage, Shower Deansturbation,Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Cum kink, Biting kink, Switch boys, Heavy surgical scarring, Dean knows ASL, Strange Dreams, Collective nightmares, Canon adjacent realms: Hoya Baciu Forest Romania, Caria Turkey, Chaos, Mythical Greek creatures, Temporarily fanged Benny, Some villainous ferrymen, Some badass ferrymen, Overly confident dick in a boat, Destiel Ever After, Happy Ending GUARANTEED, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2019 Summary: Lawrence 1995- Sixteen year old Dean Winchester finds himself in St. Luke's Children's Hospital after an electrocution severely damages his heart. On unit Neverland he meets Jimmy, a smartass with multiple organ failure and an expiration date. They discover an immediate spark which becomes an enduring flame. But Dean struggles accepting Jimmy's fate as well as his own, if a heart cannot be found in time. As his efforts to evade the ultimate marauder are weakening, he begins drawing strength from the misfit teens of Neverland East, learning the power of found family. Lebanon 2015- Dean finally joins Sam, Jo, and Charlie in the bunker. But unexpectedly meeting Castiel, who shares an unsettling likeness to Jimmy and an equally traumatic childhood, threatens to destroy two decades of hard work moving beyond the devastating events which occurred at St. Luke's. They'd be perfect for each other, if both weren’t so damn broken. As their involvement deepens, rookie hunter Sam works a case of rising juvenile deaths, revealing a shocking connection to the surviving Neverlanders. One that's been calling them all along to perilous adventure.

After All These Years | @peanutbutterjelly-pie

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 99909 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Single Parent Dean, Reunion, Slow Burn Summary: In which Dean finds himself at a wedding as Jo's fake boyfriend against his will, groaning and complaining the whole time, but still trying to appear all handsome and perfect and utterly in love since he's an awesome friend like that (and since Jo would make his life a living hell otherwise). And just when he begins to think that it won't be so bad to eat tons of free food and let his daughter Emma enjoy the festivity his gaze suddenly meets the two bluest eyes in existence and the world stops to move for a moment. Because of course the groom's brother turns out to be his old high school crush Castiel – the only person Dean was never able to forget – and things start to become really complicated all of a sudden.

#destiel trope collection 2020 #destiel trope collection #destiel #mutual pining #day 20

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adamsvanrhijn · 4 years

Text

it’s time for... the great big post of Things Smithensy Published This Year, 2020 / quarantimes edition!

under a cut this year for the first time!

ordinarily this post is called “etc etc Things Smithensy Wrote This Year etc etc”. it’s different this year because i wrote a significant amount more than i published (formerly, this would have been to the tune of a few thousand, this year it’s about 200 thousand) and also published some things that were entirely or partially written in 2019.

total # of works published on AO3: 46 total # of chapters (including one shots) "": 143 total # words "": 350,179

[for comparison, in the previous five years, 2015-2019, i published 243,892 words. 🧠🪱] [that’s the worm emoji, if you’re on a platform that doesn’t support it.]

most prolific months of the year by word count:

May: 47,643

August: 41,241

March: 40,112

other interesting things:

1 work was first posted in 2019 and continued to update through 2020. (it is one of three 2019 WIPs, the other two of which did not update at all this year! whoops!)

14 works first posted in 2020 remain incomplete

7 works contained sexual content

5 works contained content that would get me canceled in other fandoms!

summary of my 2020 music taste:

6 works are titled with Carly Rae Jepsen song lyrics

5 works are titled with Joanna Newsom song lyrics

5 works are titled with Vienna Teng song lyrics

2 works are titled with Aly & AJ song lyrics

Without further ado !

january

but level, in time Thomas and Richard ten years after the conclusion of you will not take my heart, alive. Rated M, 1.2k words. [WIP]

and eager besides Thomas dresses the Duke for dinner. Rated T, 1.2k words. During canon.

like foals, unsteady on their feet Two blokes, having a chat, not trying to fit in for once. Rated T, 11.1k words. During canon.

"You can draw the line wherever you like, Mr Ellis. Richard. Doesn't change the fact that I went off with a strange man from a pub, now, does it – "

"Who among us hasn't?"

Thomas made a sound rather like he was choking. It seemed inappropriate to smile; Richard did anyway. Just a small one; he couldn't help himself. Thomas had a way of cutting through his curtains, letting the sunshine in.

"So," Thomas said after a moment. He coughed. "You really are…"

And hadn't he thought he'd made that perfectly clear.

"No, Mr Barrow," he said, "I touched your mouth back there owing to our shared inclination toward domestic service."

february

(went with you up to) the place you grew up in A summer day in the Ellis back garden. Rated T, 1.6k words. Post-canon.

want you in my room The last night of the Royal visit, and the morning after. Rated T, 3.7k words. During canon.

all my wooing done Not all firsts have seconds. Rated T, 1.1k words. During canon.

and speak each other in passing Four times Thomas Barrow didn't meet Richard Ellis. Rated T, 1.3k words During canon.

"William," Thomas calls back, "we don't have all day."

He's gotten distracted watching one of several tearful departures happening on the platform. People do love to get in the way for that sort of thing, like no one else's time or space matters because they've got feelings.

"...Mum, come on, now, it won't be so long – "

"They never do let you away from that place – "

It's a young man about their age and a woman who is evidently his mother.

No one ought to behave like that in public.

march

3 additional chapters of a fic we'll get to later comprised the bulk of the ~40k words from this month; but no unique works were last published/updated in March!

april

far away, the thudding of the guns Thomas, during and after the Front. Unrated, 20k words. [WIP, first chapter published Dec 8, 2019]

strange how I fit into you (there's a distance erased with the greatest of ease) It takes more than love to run a household. Rated M, 10.8k words. Post-canon.

"How did this get here?" Thomas asks, holding up one of Richard's shirts. It's soft; the pinstripes are faded and have been for ages now. There is an unidentifiable blotch on the sleeve up by the shoulder that wasn't there a few weeks ago when he last washed it.

Richard sets his head on his shoulder. His cheek scratches. Tomorrow morning he'll shave and Thomas will pretend to be relieved. "I don't know," he says lightly. "Must've been at work."

"It's not tailor's chalk," Thomas retorts.

"Maybe on the bus."

"You had your jacket off on the bus, did you?"

"Had it off some place," says Richard, nuzzling his neck. He holds him a little tighter, moves one hand up to his chest and the other lower than it needs to be. "Maybe here… I get distracted, don't I, Mr Barrow."

"Yes, you do," says Thomas, snippy, if reluctantly so. "And now you're distracting me, so get."

persistence A look at the shared history of Phyllis Baxter and Thomas Barrow. Rated T, 11k. [WIP, first chapter published Jan 3]

you and me will get on just fine Snippets from the Royal Visit. Rated T, 11.4k words. [WIP]

may

one more night with you The Crawleys open up Grantham House for the last time, and Thomas has someone to see. Unrated, 6.6k words. Post-canon. [WIP]

good love Five times Thomas danced with a woman, and one time he didn't. Rated T, 2.5k words. Pre, during, post canon.

He can't stop thinking about the last time he danced with somebody.

He hopes he's okay.

and I've been feeling weak without it (only want a real, real love) The danger always was that they wouldn't work in close quarters, but they do. Rated M, 14.6k words. Post-canon.

june

better things to do The night out in York goes differently. Unrated, 3.1k words. AU, canon divergence. [WIP]

From behind him comes the thrum of chatter and the sound of jazz music, upbeat and swinging, the sort he'd expect to hear at any place from the Palais to the Jubilee Hall but not necessarily in his own corner. Not necessarily for working people, as it happens, either, the other aspect notwithstanding. Dancing. There must be dancing. When was the last time he danced with anybody?

july

better late than the never we've been told before Richard fetches Thomas from Downton. Rated T, 4.8k words. Post-canon.

and those who sow trouble reap it A love triangle, except it's a many-angled shape. Rated T, 10.1k words. Pre, during canon. [WIP]

tiny little bows Thomas is tired of waiting. Richard is, too. Rated T, 2.6k words. During canon.

"Don't tell me they don't have those in London."

It is sweet, Thomas can admit, or at least it is as far as cats go. Just sat on the wall with its tail swishing, nuzzling his hand.

"Well, they don't have this one in London," says Mr Ellis. He looks up at Thomas and grins in a fashion that makes his heart flip over, then turns back to the cat. It's purring. Thomas can't blame it; he would be, too.

august

bring you back to where I know you (I just want you to let you let me hold you) Thomas and Richard find something they'd been missing. Rated X, 6k words. Post-canon.

only a steel man can be a lover They don't talk about the sadness. Rated T, 900 words. Post-canon.

it takes my breath away (what you do so naturally) Thomas chooses his own path. Then he veers off and finds a better one. Rated M, 5.4k words. During canon.

...linens airing out in windows and back gardens, children with clothing either hemmed just before their wrists and ankles or full of tucks and patches… Must not be a school day, but then you never know, do you?

The men are working, he suspects, only to find a game of football in the park just round the corner.

Home used to look like this.

He wonders if it still would, now.

to guide your eye Richard tries something old; Thomas tries something new. Unrated, 11.3k words. Post-canon.

september

writing in the margins Richard isn't sure of Mr Barrow just yet, but he hopes he will be soon. Rated T, 2.4k words. During canon.

...As it happens the resident butler and I seem to be getting on like a house on fire, but don't make anything of it just yet...

tend and mind Flu season. Thomas makes for a good nurse. Rated G, 485 words. Post-canon.

forever and please don't go A storm rolls in. Richard gets stuck at Downton. Rated T, 500 words. Post-canon.

count up all the chances Handsome young footmen loving people they shouldn't. Unrated, 2.8k words. Spanning and post canon. [WIP]

october

let's not give the game away Thomas struggles with a finer detail of valeting. Rated T, 600 words. Pre-canon.

take my eyes to borrow A chance encounter changes everything. It also changes very little. Rated M, 18.8k words. Pre and spanning canon, AU.

"You got into a spot of trouble with your commanding officer?"

"I may have done."

It was spoken like it ought to have been a joke, but Ellis wasn't smiling anymore. "Queer, isn't it, being in service," he murmured. He really was talkative. "The bonds you form… things aren't so clear-cut out here as they were before, are they?"

Had he told him he was in service, before?

"How do you mean?"

"I think you know, Corporal," he said.

"I don't," Thomas told him.

But he knew enough in the moment to know that he was lying.

the things I shut Daisy comes to a conclusion. Rated T, 1.8k words. Post-canon.

a love that won't sit still After the Royal Visit, Thomas and Richard correspond. Rated T, 18.5k words. Post-canon. [WIP]

hope keeps us standing Downton Abbey is not like other great houses, and its butler is not like other butlers. Unrated, 17.2k words. During canon. [WIP]

you follow what you feel inside (it's intuitive; you don't have to try) Times are changing at Downton, and Thomas has a decision to make. Rated M, 1.9k words. During canon, AU. [WIP]

a love that won't sit still The Royal visit ends; Thomas and Richard correspond. Rated T, 18.5k words. [WIP, first chapter Feb 2.]

november

of someone else's flowers Richard makes an important introduction. Rated T, 2.6k. Post-canon. [WIP]

all my casualties of love Thomas tells Richard about his past lovers. Rated T, 5.5k words. During canon.

nothing like a fresh abrasion (to win your love) Richard takes care of Thomas. Rated M, 15.3k words, extensive content warnings. Post-canon.

Fittingly, a breeze passes through from outside, occupying the moment of silence. Autumn air—it makes them both shiver. Earlier in the morning Richard had opened up the windows to get some light in, some fresh air. Most nights they keep the curtains drawn and with good reason, but they don't always get opened back up again.

It's the little things. He's going to endeavour to make them a priority in future.

Drapes tied back, window propped, shutters open. Sunshine.

He wonders if he ought to be concerned about heights.

LES MISÉRABLES: what of the rhythm and meter A literary exchange in the backroom of the Café Musain. Rated T, 1k words. Canon era. [Written in 2019.]

LES MISÉRABLES: the fall of a royal head Jean Prouvaire attempts to bring revolutionary praxis into the bedroom. Rated T, 1.7k words. Canon era. [Written in 2019.]

a web that you have wove There's something unusual about the Royal Household entourage… and Mr Ellis in particular. Rated T, 14k words. During canon, AU.

december

when to my soul, the body would say Thomas and Richard stay at a pub in the middle of nowhere; intimacy ensues. Rated X, 83k words. [WIP, first chapter published Jan 5 2020. This is the March fic.]

this sudden burst of sunlight Thomas & Richard's first time in the A Love That Won't Sit Still universe. Rated X, 5k words.

waken us from sleeping On his way to France Matthew comes across someone he knows. Rated M, 6.9k words. During/between canon. [WIP]

warm blood (underneath my skin) Vampire Richard drinks Thomas's blood. Rated X, 1.6k words. [WIP]

the most sacred of life's keepsakes Thomas & Sybil fall in love and get married. Rated T, 2.1k words. AU, canon divergence.

today, a difference Thomas & Sybil have a baby. Rated T, 7.7k words. AU, canon divergence.

never die for long Thomas has a letter; Sybil has ideas. Rated T, 5.3k words. AU, canon divergence.

kindling Telephone calls between Thomas and Richard on Christmas day, over the years. Rated T, 5.1k words. Post-canon.

They've got a sparkling tree and a roaring fire and full bellies and a very comfortable sofa and, best of all, each other, in a place that's their own. Both of their own, and unlike years past, neither of them are plucking hours out of thin air and hopping on milk trains to make the day work. There's nowhere to set off for in the morning, no other place they're meant to be, no other people to serve. They were together the day before and they'll be together the day after.

How very nice it is, that.

It was a very long time in coming.

#2020 tag #year in review tag #my fanfiction tag #fic talk tag #quarantimes

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