#OMG IT REMINDS ME OF MY WIP FIC | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marshmellowtea · 2 months ago

Text

comes out of the wip covered in blood. this was supposed to be a short little tumblr fic what happened omg 😭😭😭

alkdjfklasdfj anyway! as i've teased several times now here's a fic for the munchausen by proxy au, or the love isn't injected with syringes 'verse as it's now dubbed (thank you heresy! ^-^), ft. a fucked up little slice of life scene between a teenage chris and celia. no other cornley members appear cuz it is a backstory fic, i just wanted to write a little thing about what his life was like before he met them and they were able to help him, and it. uh. spiraled lol. i swear it was not supposed to be this long, nor was it supposed to take this long to write, but here we are!

like i said, this was meant to be a shorter fic meant for tumblr, but the intent was always to cross post it to ao3 at some point, so if you'd prefer to read it there i'll have it published tomorrow on my tea_at_twilight_time account. i'll also be reblogging this post with a link for the sake of convenience and also because i love self promo lol :)

warnings for this fic include: implied poisoning and medical malpractice by a parent (cuz uh. munchausen by proxy lol), hurt/little comfort, hurt/manipulative comfort, child abuse (mostly emotional and medical but referenced physical as well. also celia is def starving this kid so references to that too lol), vomiting and semi graphic descriptions thereof, choking as a result of said vomiting, references to body fluids, nightmares, drowning, celia's general hot and cold nature with this poor kid, chris seeming wayyyy younger than he is (agere brain did not turn off while writing this i will not lie to you all lol). if there's anything else please lemme know but this should cover the major things <3 yes this fic is evil don't @ me about it akdjflkds >:3

now, without further ado..........

"I know it's not right to say, but...sometimes, I quite like you like this."

Celia's words come into Chris's ears as a soft croon, her hand stroking his overheated face and sweat soaked hair soothingly. He breathes out shakily, but despite the pain radiating up through his limbs, he finds himself smiling a little, her tone washing over him more than her words.

"Mama," he mumbles, weakly lifting a hand for her. "'m...'m..."

Celia shushes him, her hand trailing down to cup his cheek, her thumb rubbing over his feverish, pallid skin. "My poor darling," she continues, her voice sickeningly sweet. "You're so good for me when you're sick, aren't you?"

Chris hums lowly, tilting his face further into her palm. She doesn't get like this often—sweet and gentle, touching him like he's something to be loved. Normally she's more clinical, her touch impersonal as she checks his temperature, gives him his pills, helps him bathe...he relies on her for quite a bit, really, so it's not surprising she can't always indulge him in affection like this. Still though, it's nice when he gets it, these rare moments where she's more his mother than his nurse.

"You're so weak," she says, soft, like it's a compliment. "So helpless. You're so lucky to have such a loyal mum like me, who's willing to stick it out. Most women would consider you too high maintenance, but not me. I'm willing to sacrifice a lot for you, Chris, don't forget that."

He nods faintly, as best he can with his head feeling so heavy. She'd just given him his medicine, and that always drains him a bit—he doesn't think it's fair that the thing that's supposed to make him better makes him feel so damn tired, but Mama always assures him that that just means it's working. Sometimes, the things that make you feel better make you feel worse for a bit, something she's always quick to remind him of when he complains. He tries not to complain so much nowadays, though. She's only doing what's best for him.

"Anyway," Celia says, bringing him back to the present. "I have some things to do, so I'll be leaving you here for a bit. Can you get some rest for me while I'm gone?"

Chris whimpers before he can stop himself, opening his eyes sluggishly. He knows he's being selfish, but a part of him hates how often she leaves him alone, knowing how much he needs her. He reaches out for her weakly, trying to gently grab onto her arm or even the hem of her blouse, but she grabs his wrist before he can reach her, placing it back against his chest.

"Chris. Don't be difficult," she says, voice still sweet but with an edge of that harshness he so dreads to hear from her. "I'm doing this for you. I have to leave to pick up your new medication."

"I th-thought," he starts, words slurring as his tongue feels heavy in his mouth, "th-thought this was the new medi-medica—"

"It's one of them," Celia says, mercifully cutting him off before he can embarrass himself further. "But with your condition, well...we just need more than one course to make you well again. You're quite sick, you know."

He does know. He whines, but nods again, his head moving helplessly against his pillowcase. "'m s'rry," he mumbles, eyes growing wet with tears. "D-don' mean'ta make it so hard..."

"Oh, I know, I know," Celia soothes, pulling the blanket up to cover his chest. "That's why I need you to sleep for me now. We won't know if this dose is working until you get some rest and let it work, alright?"

Chris breathes out shakily, letting his eyes fall closed. "Mama?" he asks, voice tiny.

"Yes, dear?"

For a long moment, it feels like all he can do is breathe. Finally, he quietly asks, "D-don' wanna be difficul' still, b-but can you stay til..."

He trails off, taken aback by the hand in his hair. "Yes, Chris?" she prompts, soft voice tinged with irritation.

He wilts a little, and shame tinges his voice as he mumbles, "J-jus' til I fall 'sleep..."

Celia's quiet for a long moment, continuing to stroke his hair rhythmically. Eventually, though, she sighs, as though he's asked something truly exhausting of her. Maybe he has, he's not sure.

"Okay, darling," she says, sounding put upon about it. "Just this once. The chemist doesn't stay open all day, you know."

"I-I know," Chris mumbles, a few stray tears escaping. "'m s'rry, Mama."

Celia sighs heavily again, and Chris can see the way she shakes her head, even with his eyes closed. "I suppose you can't help it," she says, her nails digging slightly into his scalp as she continues to stroke his hair. "Being a bit...needy. It's only natural, since you're sick. Still, you really ought to not make it a habit."

"I won't," he whimpers, relaxing a little into the mattress regardless. "'m s'rry Mama."

"Sssshh."

Obediently, he falls quiet at her shushing, letting himself be soothed by her gentle petting. He doesn't deserve it—he doesn't deserve her, and all the things she does for him. She's really too good to him.

Those thoughts carry him to sleep, a thank you and a declaration of love dying on his tongue. He plans only to say the former to her later, knowing she’ll appreciate his gratitude, but the latter will be kept to himself, like a secret. No use in saying that he loves her when she won't say it back, after all.

- -

The ocean out in front of him is vast and choppy, tossing his little ship around helplessly.

Chris's stomach churns with the movement of the sea, a steadily rising nausea coming over him like the waves he's currently sailing on. He's not sure how much of it is seasickness, and how much of it is sheer terror—terror he's struggling to keep under wraps, lest his crew see just how fucked they really are. The faceless men around him shoot him concerned glances with their smooth, eyeless visages, well aware of how dire their plight is, and though he knows this, Chris sends them attempts at reassuring nods anyway, swallowing back the bile rising in his throat.

"Captain," one of them says, sending a nervous glance to the waves in front of them. "The sea—"

He doesn't get to finish before a wave suddenly hits them, tall and unavoidable even if Chris had noticed it before it came. Chris feels himself getting swept away, and he shouts, calling for help he knows won't come. There's no one to help him. Anyone who could, anyone who would've cared enough to, is getting swept away with him, his crew getting carried away alongside him. Tears spring to Chris's eyes as he realizes he's failed them, and the pain in his stomach spikes, a cramp that would make him double over if he was still upright.

He doesn't get to dwell on that long, however, until he's plunging into the jarringly cold water surrounding them. A wail dies in his throat as his mouth fills with water, blocking any further sound from escaping him as he gags and splutters, attempting to clear his airways with each convulsion of his chest. Anything that he manages to cough up is quickly replaced, however, as the sea presses in all around him, the inescapable pressure making his chest tighten around the liquid slowly filling his lungs. Tears sting his eyes, but if any escape, he isn't able to tell as they're quickly lost to the saltwater carrying him.

Mama, he calls out in his mind, as though she'd be able to hear him—as though she'd be able to get to him out here. Still, a hopelessly hopeful part of him can't help but call for her, Mama, come save me!

He coughs again, but it's getting harder to breathe. He's going to die out here, he realizes. He's going to die alone and scared and without his Mama here to hold him and tell him he's going to be an angel in heaven if he dies here and—

—and suddenly there are hands pulling him from the water, warm and solid against his clammy skin. He feels himself get rolled onto his side, somehow on solid ground now, and this time when he coughs, water comes out. He sobs a little once his throat is clear, and then vomits, more water coming out of him, this time accompanied with sea gunk.

"There you go, my angel. Get it all out."

Is that...is that Mama? Chris whimpers, relieved to hear her voice—but how did she get out all the way out here?

"Sssshh," she soothes, her hand feeling real and alive in his hair. "You're alright. Just breathe."

Chris gasps, eyes fluttering open to see Celia hovering over him and a trail of vomit leading from his mouth, yellowish and liquidy from his consistently empty stomach. He whines loudly, and then convulses, another wave of bile pouring out of his mouth and spilling onto the pillow next to him.

"I know, love, I know," Celia croons, brushing back his hair and rubbing his shoulder. "Just let it out, and then we'll get you in the tub again, alright?"

Chris whimpers, but he can't really protest that plan—his pajamas feel a bit damp, and he can't tell what of it is sweat or...other, less desirable fluids. He lets his eyes fall shut and thinks of the sea from his dream again, the way the cold saltwater washed over him, and feels grateful to at least be on dry land as he coughs and sputters his way through his little nausea spell, unfortunately not that uncommon at this point in his life. He doesn't usually choke during them, though, and he can't help but whimper again as his stomach contracts and spews up more acid, the vomit stinging the sores already formed in the back of his throat as it comes up. All the while, Celia murmurs to him, soft words of reassurance as he retches, and he soaks up the affection as much as he can while he's in this state, never knowing when he's going to receive this softness again.

"Mama," he mumbles, once his stomach has finally settled enough for him to speak without bringing more of the sparse fluids in his abdomen up, "don' feel very good..."

"I know, my angel," Celia croons again, now reaching down to help guide him upright. "You'll feel better once we get you in the bath. Oh, and fortunately, I just brought back your new medication, and that'll have you feeling right as rain as well, won't it?"

The idea of putting anything else on his empty, ravaged stomach makes Chris feel lightheaded, mouth watering with the threat of more vomit. Still, he knows better than to argue, especially after the scare he must've given her. He wonders how she deals with it, the constant brushes with death his illnesses give him. She never seems outwardly afraid for him, though he knows she must be, given how much time and effort she puts into keeping him alive. If he had the energy to, he'd feel guilty for it, but right now, he barely has the energy to keep himself sitting, instead leaning heavily against his mother once she's got him upright.

"Mama," he groans, trembling as she starts to pull him to his feet, his legs unwilling to support him. "Mama, don' wanna be sick 'nymore...'m tired..."

"Sssshh, I know," Celia soothes, holding him around the waist as she guides him toward the bathroom, exercising a surprising amount of strength as she holds him upright almost entirely on her own. "Hopefully the pills help this time, but...oh, you've been my sick baby for so long, I just can't imagine you any other way..."

Chris whimpers, legs nearly collapsing beneath him. Baby. He doesn't get dubbed with that title often, but it always makes his chest warm, a weird fuzziness rushing over his head when she says it. He lifts his heavy, trembling arms, hoping to cling to her before they reach the bathroom, but before he can muster up enough strength for it, she's dropping him unceremoniously on the toilet, setting him aside as she preps his bath. A few stray tears escape his eyes at the loss of contact, and he curls around himself with a groan, clutching at his still aching stomach.

"Do try not to vomit again, Chris," Celia says, her voice not cold per se, but losing the warmth it had not even a minute ago. "But if you do, you know where the wastebasket is."

Chris whimpers, less at the nausea rolling over him and more at the clinical neutrality in her tone. Back to business as usual, he supposes. It had been a nice run of her rare gentleness, longer than she normally affords him, but he should've known that it was inevitably going to end. Still, despite his disappointment, he does his best to follow her instructions and not puke again—it's not too hard, even for as nauseous as he is. Anything he could've thrown up has already been expelled, so he just closes his eyes and against the dizziness washing over him, letting the sound of the tub filling keep him distracted. The warm water will feel good on his aches, he knows this from experience.

"Mama," he mumbles, once his mouth is no longer full of saliva, a threat of vomiting his body won't follow through with. "Mama, thank'ou..."

"Don't speak, Chris," Celia chides, not harsh, but not kind either. "Not until we're sure you won't be sick again."

"But 'm...I don' think 'm gonna..."

"Chris."

This time, there is harshness to the words. He's annoyed her again. He slams his mouth shut and whimpers, and then swallows back any other noises, feeling more than seeing her annoyed stare with his eyes still shut. He flinches slightly when he feels her come over—physical punishments aren't common, but he's never sure when he's aggravated her enough to draw one out of her—but she merely starts to help him out of his pajamas, wordlessly pulling the hem of his shirt up. Chris instinctively moves his arms up to help her, the movements routine by now, and in no time at all he's undressed and being guided into the tub.

He doesn't open his eyes again until he feels the water surrounding him, warm and clean and a sharp contrast to the cold salt water from his dream. The memory of it makes him shiver even in the heat surrounding him, and he pulls his legs to his chest and wraps his arms around himself, keeping his eyes on the steam rising up around him rather than on his mother fluttering around him.

After what feels like a long silence, she speaks up again. "Chris. I do appreciate the gratitude."

Chris perks up a little at that, finally looking up at her with round eyes. "Really?"

"Of course," Celia murmurs, crouching down by the tub next to him. "It's rare that a boy understands the sacrifices his mother makes for him. But you...you've always been so obedient for me."

Tears well up in Chris's eyes at the praise, and his breath quickens, squeezing his eyes shut as she runs a damp washcloth over his shoulders. "You do so much for me," he mumbles, and before he can stop himself, before he can remember why it's a bad idea, he finds the words slipping out of his mouth, "I love you, Mama..."

Celia is quiet for a long, terrifying moment, no acknowledgement of the words he's just spoken. She doesn't even stop washing him, but that's a good sign—at least he didn't upset her too badly. Still, she must be a little upset with him given her silence, and the thought makes his stomach start to turn again unpleasantly.

"'m sorry," he mumbles, dropping his face into his knees. "'m sorry...sorry...s—"

"Quiet, now, Chris," Celia interrupts, cutting off his next apology. "Let's just get your bath finished so you can go back to bed, alright?"

Chris whimpers, nodding weakly. He'll probably be moved to the guest room while his sheets are being cleaned, but he doesn't mind too much. It's always nice to have a change of scenery, no matter how brief, though he often does find himself wishing for more sometimes. Maybe if he feels better tomorrow, and if he asks really nicely, he'll get to sit on the couch and watch a little telly. Maybe Mama will even sit with him, and show him one of her old movies. That would be nice. He won't get any of that if he doesn't get better, though, or if he's not good. So far, it feels like he's failing on both fronts.

He tries to push the thought out of his mind—the last thing his mother needs is for him to accidentally induce one of his crying fits—and the rest of the bath passes in a half aware haze, exhaustion taking over once again now that his stomach doesn't hurt so much. The warm water feels really nice, after all, and a few times, Chris nearly finds himself drifting off, though he does his best to fight off the urge, since Mama can't lift him out if he falls asleep. He's not keen on the idea of waking up to a cooled tub of water if she has to leave him in again, nor on the idea of said cooled water making him sicker. It's far too easy to set off his various illnesses, and Mama would be upset if he caused them to get worse by doing something stupid and easily avoidable like falling asleep where he's not supposed to.

He is a bit relieved when she finally pulls the drain, finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. He trembles as the water rushes away, leaving him exposed to the cold air around him, but a towel is soon draped over him, soft and fluffy and protecting him against the chill that forever permeates the house. He whines a bit as he's guided up to his feet, but the way he's shushed quickly quiets him, and this time he wastes no time in latching onto his mother as best he can with sore, trembling arms, not wanting to miss his chance to cling to her while it's still acceptable to do so.

"Guest room, Mama?" he asks, voice quiet and a little shaky, matching the way his legs tremble beneath him.

"Yes, Christopher," Celia says, a note of something he can't quite identify in her voice. "Can't exactly have you sleeping in soiled sheets, can we?"

Chris shakes his head, whimpering at the thought. That'd be worse than sleeping in the bathtub, he's sure. The bathtub gets pretty cold, but at least it's clean.

"Exactly, my angel," Celia says in response to his displeased sounds, leading him in the direction of his new sleeping arrangements. "We wouldn't want to undo my hard work of getting you all clean by putting you back in your own mess, would we?"

Oh, he said part of that out loud, hadn't he? Chris flushes a bit at the realization, but he still shakes his head dutifully in response, breathing out shakily as his stomach starts to churn again. Movement always disrupts it when he's already been sick, so he's not going to worry too much about getting sick again unless he feels the saliva start to swarm his mouth or the bile tease at the back of his throat, the tell tale signs that he's going to retch. He knows them all intimately by now, even if the whims of the rest of his body still feel confusing and out of reach.

Thankfully, the trip to the guest room passes by in a half aware haze, most of Chris's focus on his sensitive, flipping stomach. It's a relief once he's sat down on the bed again, and he sighs as he flops onto his side on the mattress, soft and comfortable beneath him.

"Chris," Celia scolds after a long moment, and he looks up through his lashes to see her standing above him, bundle of clothes in arm.

"Sorry Mama," he mumbles, pushing himself upright again on trembling arms. "'m tired..."

"I know, dear, which is why I don't understand why you're making this so much harder on me," she huffs, coaxing a pang of guilt into his ravaged tummy. "I just need you to sit up for a bit longer, are you capable of doing that for me?"

Chris flushes in shame, and he nods shakily, biting his bottom lip nervously. "I can," he says softly. "Sorry, Mama."

Celia huffs, and Chris braces himself, wincing as she starts to guide his tender limbs into a fresh pair of pajamas. It's not like she's trying to cause him pain, of course. She's just trying to get the job done quickly. It's not her fault if it hurts a bit, if every little movement makes his sore limbs ache dully, so he does his best to let her work, trying not to fuss it. The warm water from his bath had helped a bit, but the pain never fully goes away, the aches from his illnesses a constant background noise he can never entirely block out.

It's a relief, then, when he's finally laid back down on the bed, guided by his mother's hand. There's the ghost of affection in the gentleness of the gesture, and it bleeds into the way she tucks him in as well. He soaks it up as best he can, letting out the smallest of whimpers as the blanket is pulled up to his chin.

"There you go," Celia hums, not quite warm, but Chris clings to the vestiges of it in her tone anyway. "Are you going to get some sleep for me, now?"

Chris breathes out shakily, but he nods, his exhaustion and his mother's pointed stare giving him no other choices. "Yes Mama," he breathes, curling up childishly in the sheets. "Um...wait..."

Celia pauses on her way to the door, turning on her heel and looking at Chris with an uncomfortably neutral expression. "Yes, my angel?"

Chris breathes out, fighting the urge to suck at the edge of his blanket, a nervous habit his mother heavily disapproves of. "What if I have another nightmare?" he asks, voice quiet. "O-or I get sick 'n almost choke again?"

"You're not a child Chris, you can handle another nightmare," Celia says sternly, before her voice and face soften just slightly. "But you don't have to worry about choking again. I'll always be here to protect you, to save you. You know that."

Chris nods, feeling oddly cold under the layers of blankets. He wishes his mother would come closer, take him in her arms like he's a kid again and hold him to her chest, but he knows it's a big ask. It's as she's said, he's too old for that kind of thing—he's just turned fourteen, and Mama's made a point to let him know that because he's not a child anymore, he's too old for her to let him curl up in her lap just because he's not feeling well. Not that she held him much when he was younger, of course—she was too busy trying to take care of him, checking his vitals and bringing him water and tea and running to the chemist for his medicine. Still, sometimes, when he was really sick, she used to pull him close, let him lay his head against her shoulder as she held him and rocked him. It hurts to think that he's not going to get those occasional bouts of affection anymore, but he supposes that since he has been sick for so long, he should be able to handle the stress of it on his own now.

Still, he tries not to pout as he cuddles the blanket closer, trying to imagine it as a pair of arms embracing him. "I know Mama," he murmurs, the words a ghost of a breath on his lips. "A-and thank you…you really do so much f'r me..."

"Yes, I do, don't I?" Celia hums, sounding almost pleased—Chris can almost believe she's pleased with him, though he knows it's likely not the case. "And I have more I must do for you. Can you do something for me in turn?"

Chris nods, already knowing what she's going to ask. "Yes Mama," he mumbles in answer, letting his eyes droop closed. "I'll get some sleep f'r you..."

"Good, my angel," Celia says, and he can hear the light switch click as she shrouds him in darkness. "I'll be back for another round of medication later. I would give it to you now, but I have to sort your new pills with the others before I know what to give you...besides, I don't think the painkillers from this morning have quite left your system yet, anyway..."

Chris isn't so sure about that, given the way his aches have only sharpened since his bath. Still, he knows better than to argue with her, especially about his medication. She knows far more than he does about the kind of treatment he needs—Mama knows best, just like she always tells him.

"Okay, Mama," he breathes, clinging to the softness of his pillow. "Thank you. Thank you for takin' care 'f my medicine, Mama."

"Of course, my angel," Celia says, voice so quiet it's barely audible. "Sleep now. I'll be back to take care of you later, like always."

"Like always," Chris repeats faintly, a weird feeling squirming in his chest and tummy at the words. He thinks it's love, maybe, wriggling around, disallowed from escaping him through his throat and tongue—he's certainly not repeating that mistake again so soon.

"Yes, dear," Celia says, still so quiet, yet effectively breaking him out of his thoughts regardless. "Sleep well."

Chris nods, suppressing a whimper as the door clicks shut behind her, a quiet announcement that she's left him alone in the dark room. He curls in tighter on himself, feeling himself tremble slightly. Despite how exhausted he is, sleep suddenly feels far away, the dull ache in his body overwhelming in the darkness of the room. He almost wishes for something to do—a book to read, a show to watch, even something childish like toys to play with would be a welcome distraction. But he knows better than to ask for them, and that it's better if he merely focuses on resting, even if his mind is racing a million miles a minute and making it hard to drift off again.

It feels like ages until his body finally catches up with the situation, his heart rate slowing enough for him to lay under the covers without fidgeting around restlessly. He knows it probably won't be long until his mother wakes him up again for his medicine, given how long he laid there awake, but she asked him to rest for her. He's determined to fulfill that request, even if it's only for a pitifully brief amount of time.

He tries not to feel like a complete failure as he finally nods off again, hoping that the unease won't bring the nightmares back around. Despite his mother's words, he doesn't think that he is equipped to handle another one, and he really doesn't want to disappoint her again. The last thing he ever wants to do is disappoint her, even if it feels harder and harder not to, the older and sicker he gets.

Sorry Mama, he thinks, his last coherent thought before sleep finally takes him again, anxiety lingering at the edges of his subconscious mind. I'm trying to be good. I'm sorry, Mama.

#the goes wrong show #chris bean #celia bean #chris&celia #love isn't injected with syringes 'verse #abuse tw #dead bean: do not eat #marshy writes #<- been so long since i've used that tag wrow. reuinited and it feels so good.........#heresy 🖊️#not sure if you wanted to be tagged in this but you helped name the au so <333 #deciding not to tag the trigger warnings outside of abuse cuz i listed them all out in the beginning #but if this does need tagged for filtering reasons lemme knooooww #anyway i may or may not ramble more about the au in the ao3 author's notes. if you're curious. so just keep an eye out for that #otherwise there won't be any real differences between this and the ao3 posting of this fic #posting them in both places is probably redundant given the overlap in audiences lol but still. it's good to have all my fics in one place #and i wanted to honor the fact that this was originally meant to be posted here despite it kind of outgrowing that designation so.#i'm probably justifying this too much ahglkdsjf does anyone actually care? probably not. it's fine <3

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 2 months ago

Note

Hi Cal!!! So excited about all of your wips as usual! Also omg loser buck fic was so so fun!! Absolutely loved it well done!

First theme this time is “Ravi doesn’t get paid enough to deal with them” - my poor child he deserves better than this torment

⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️⏲️ (hehe loving this one so much! Very excited to learn what went down between buck and eddie! And i can’t wait to see chim realize that hen’s just hungover and he’s been way too dramatic. Also is something going on with bobby or he’s just thrown off by being late and is rolling with the chaotic vibes?)

🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️ (yay merbuck is back!! And off to a super fun jealousbuck start! Sending all my love to ravi in these trying times (read: having to deal with buck and eddie). There’s only been a few sentences so far but I’m already very excited to find out where this one’s going!)

-PCA <3

LAST NIGHT PROVED RAVI DOESN"T GET PAID ENOUGH

84 for ⏲️ (Bobby is just shaken by his team being freaks!):

---

“Cool,” Eddie says. “I’m gonna kill him then.”

“Thirty seconds to pull up your pants, then we’re coming in,” Chim says.

“Uh, w-we?” Buck asks loudly. Then his voice drops. “Wait. Shit. Now he knows we’re in here together.”

“He already knew,” Eddie sighs.

“What?” Buck asks.

“Chim!” Eddie calls. “Why? You’re the one who told me to-”

“I told you to fix it!” Chim interrupts. “Not mess around in a supply closet!”

“You talked to Chim about this?” Buck asks, straightening out his uniform as Eddie climbs to his feet.

“Not in detail,” Eddie assures him.

Buck sighs. “You decent?”

“I’ll stand behind you for a bit,” Eddie compromises.

With that, Buck reaches to open the supply closet door. Outside of it, Chim and Ravi are waiting for them. For whatever fucking reason, Ravi is holding a small fire extinguisher.

Buck is less than impressed.

“Guys, what the hell is-”

He’s cut off by Ravi nervously spraying the front of his shirt and pants with the extinguisher.

3:18pm

Ravi swears he didn’t mean to do that. Really, he didn’t. He feels like he jinxed the entire station all over again.

It’s just that Bobby told him to use a fire extinguisher if Buck looked like he was about to combust, and Ravi can see in hindsight that was likely sarcasm, but he often takes instructions by the letter, and Buck… Well, he looked like he was going to set Chim and Ravi on fire with his eyes. He can get sort of intense. He had that about to chase someone with a chainsaw look. And historically? That someone has been Ravi.

“Oh no,” Ravi says, when he realizes what he’s done.

Chim starts laughing. Fully belly, hysterical laughter.

“What the fuck, Ravi?” Buck demands.

“I… I didn’t mean to,” Ravi says.

“Dude,” Eddie shakes his head. Though, Ravi hardly sees it because Eddie is standing almost directly behind Buck for some reason.

“You didn’t mean to blast me with a fire extinguisher?” Buck asks.

“Well, uh… Maybe I got trigger happy,” Ravi admits.

“Is this revenge for the packing peanuts?” Buck asks.

“No!” Ravi insists.

“The ketchup?” Buck asks.

“No, but now that you remind me, I feel less bad,” Ravi admits.

Buck scowls at him. “What the fuck, guys?”

“Bobby told me to do it!” Ravi defends himself.

“Oh, Bobby told you to do it?” Buck repeats.

“He’s looking for you guys in the bunk rooms,” Chim says. “We did not want him to catch you like that.”

“Catch us?” Eddie asks. “What does he think he’s catching us doing?”

Chim frowns. “Uh…”

“Chim,” Eddie groans.

“I didn’t say anything!” Chim protests.

“Okay, Eddie, who didn’t you tell about this morning?” Buck asks, a little whiny.

“No one!” Eddie insists.

“Why, what happened this morning?” Ravi asks. Then, come to think of it, he realizes he does not want to know.

---

72 for 🧜‍♂️"

---

“You okay?” Probie asks, snapping Buck out of focus.

Buck turns to look at him.

“What?” He asks, confused.

“You’ve been staring at that cup for two minutes. We’re about to leave.”

“Oh,” Buck mumbles. “I’m fine. Just a little tired from being jinxed.”

Probie groans. “Come on, man, I am trying to be friendly here, but-”

He’s cut off by the cup of Sprite exploding into a fizzy, sticky mess.

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck - he makes things explode because he hates Probie. That is a problem. Eddie won’t like that.

“What the hell?” Probie asks.

Buck whistles. “See? Jinxed.”

🌻

Buck is being weird.

Okay, yeah. Eddie knows. Buck was already being weird. Is often weird. But right now, his weirdness has shifted. It’s less directed at Ravi, and more just… General. Like he’s stuck in his head. Retreated into his fortress of overthinking at the speed of light.

They’re at a laundromat. A kid has somehow gotten himself stuck in one of the machines. The washer had started to run before someone noticed and managed to unplug it. Nearly a drowning call, but now all they have to do is free the kid from the locked machine. How the child managed it, Eddie does not know. He’s thankful Christopher has never been so disaster-prone or mischievous.

Usually, this would be the kind of call Buck would be all over. Rescuing and comforting the kid. He’s great at the kid calls, always puts them at ease.

He doesn’t seem so interested in that right now.

Right now, Buck seems more intent on staring at the half drained washing machine, eyes focused very intently on the water. Sometimes, he breaks his focus, and looks at Ravi. But only for a second, then he’s looking at the machine again. Eddie’s eyes narrow. He is trying to mess with the water. What the hell? He does have freaky water powers. He has been making things explode. Eddie just doesn’t know whether or not he was lying or confused. Knowing Buck? Probably the latter, actually.

Eddie doesn’t get a chance to address it right away. They’re busy and surrounded by people. Ravi is nearby. And while he deserves better than what he’s experienced today, Eddie isn’t going to let him hear anything about this. So he can’t talk to Buck again until their next call, which seems to be an easier one. A helium tank related incident at a party store. Whatever that means.

There’s a minute where the rest of the team goes ahead without them, and Buck and Eddie are left outside by themselves to grab supplies. Eddie takes his chance.

“So you have anything you want to tell me?” He asks.

Buck sighs. “Okay, you might not believe this.”

“I think I will,” Eddie replies flatly.

#daisies and briars writes #mer!buck

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triptychgrip · 1 month ago

Text

Fic Recs (March 2025)

And now for more fic recs! (See my January and February posts here and here).

After 4.5 years of accumulating way too much stuff (and incidentally, getting rid of most of my books and plants was sooo painful, omg), I had to move out of my apartment at the end of last month, so didn’t get to read nearly as much as I wanted to in March, especially in terms of longer fics. That being said, below the cut are 5 Yuri!!! on Ice, and 2 Fruits Basket stories that I think deserve more attention.

As a reminder, I'm using these monthly rec posts to prioritize spreading the word about authors that are not already on Tumblr (or who appear inactive), with a focus on 1) WIPs/recently written stories (updated or completed within the last year) and/or 2) NSFW fics, because those could always use more love!

If something is a WIP, I've noted that in bold/purple next to the author, and if something is NSFW, I've noted that in bold/red, also next to the author.

—

Yuri!!! on Ice recs

1) These Violent Delights (12K, by butterbeerbitch) - NSFW

Relevant Ships/Tags: Viktor/Yuuri, Alternate Universe - Escorts, Age Swap, Pining Victor Nikiforov, Angst and Smut and Fluff

Do you ever read a fic where the writing style and depth of feeling conveyed catapults you onto an emotional rollercoaster that you weren’t even fully aware you were on, and then you have to stare at the wall for a bit when you get to the end?

Lolol, that was my experience reading this story, which, while more angsty than I tend to read, is fucking BEAUTIFUL.

This is an AU featuring Viktor as an escort and Yuuri as his businessman client. I absolutely adored butterbeerbitch’s writing style. The sex was exquisitely intense as well as painful to read about at times, given Viktor’s pining and Yuuri’s seeming determination to not admit to having true feelings for Viktor beyond a transactional nature. There are ups and downs between them, naturally, but ultimately this fic gives them a hopeful ending (which also happens to be one of the sweetest I’ve come across in awhile).

Excerpt:

He was so unfurled like this. Carefully cracked open. "I'm so sorry."

Victor never thought Yuuri had the guts to say the things you were not supposed to say out loud.

"I know." Because maybe there was nothing for Victor to give either. Because maybe for so long, he'd kept giving and giving without thinking about how much he'd have left for himself in the end. "I know," he said again, because maybe he did.

The silence that fell was louder than the stuttering buzz of the fridge, the TV. Victor fisted Yuuri's shirt so hard his knuckles cracked.

Maybe this wasn't the right place, the right time. Maybe they weren't even the right people.

"Tomorrow's my last day."

Victor could feel the question looming above their heads.

Will you come with me?

It felt like such an unbelievable thing. And in your head, that was what you did, those unbelievable, awful, perfect things, but outside of it, you knew better.

Come with me.

He couldn't. He wouldn't. And maybe that was okay. There was only so much you could understand about someone when you didn't even know them outside of a bed. Maybe this was all they were supposed to have.

Victor couldn't look away. Yuuri's pain. He looked lifetimes older than anyone was built for.

And he couldn't stop thinking about that wilted letter. That same last name. Katsuki. A cousin, maybe. An uncle. A grandfather. Or maybe someone even closer. A brother. Did Yuuri have a sister? Was he an only child?

Who did you lose?

2) Why can’t you just stay close to me? (7.5K, by Cielsolos) - WIP

Relevant Ships/Tags: Viktor/Yuuri, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Alternate Universe - Historical, Blood and Injury, Time Travel

I love time travel stories (see further along in this post for my own time travel fic/series), and this one has such an inventive premise: Yuuri as a Detroit-based archaeologist – the best in his field, whose research focuses on the late Tsar of Russia, Viktor Nikiforov – being sent back in time to the Tsar’s home, the Castle of Korolevskiy. When the story begins, Yuuri is lamenting how even as all of his hard work as an archaeologist seems to have paid off, the constant demands on his time with his career (“At first it seemed like a blessing, all his hard work had paid off! He was winning prizes, meeting world leaders and getting requests from everywhere! But soon, the requests became suffocating, a large box full of expectations and anxiety already filled to the brim and tipping over the edge, the title soon overused and exploited”) are wearing on him.

When he is informed that his excavation team has come across a collection of Korolevskiy remains, including jewels – with one in particular catching his eye, as it looks similar to the sapphire famously part of Tsar Viktor’s crown – Yuuri is shocked to realize that he has been assigned examination of this very sapphire. Shortly after accidentally cutting himself on the jewel, he awakens to find himself in a bleak, dimly lit prison cell. When he is interrogated by Christophe Giacometti, first nephew to the King of Switzerland, Yuuri starts to realize the very unusual and nerve-wracking circumstances he’s wound up in.

Excerpt (from Chapter 2):

”You see, here at the palace, we keep records on everyone,” He stopped at Yuuri’s chair and crouched down to lean his face close. “And i mean ev-ery-one!” he touched each of the syllables with the tip of his tongue.

He couldn’t have felt more uncomfortable.

He pulled back, titled his head to the side and split his face into a cold smile. “You too, Yuuri Katsuki.”

His blood ran cold. He felt his eyes widen as Christophe stretched out the silence thin between the two of them.

He got up from his crouch, and started rambling “Son of Chairman Toshiya and Hiroko Katsuki, brother to Mari Katsuki, adores dogs, one time..”

Yuuri drowned him out, hold on, chairman?? But that’s not it! My father runs an inn! But…is that how it is here?

“…I could go on!”

Yuuri blinked to see Christophe in front of him.

He wasn't in a hurry. He had all the time in the world.

"You know, Yuuri," he drawled, tilting his head, "you didn't even hesitate before lying to me."

Yuuri's throat tightened.

"That tells me one of two things."

Christophe took another slow step, the soft click of his boots against the stone floor the only sound

"Either you are terribly stupid-" he trailed off, his voice dipping lower as he came to stand behind Yuuri,"or you think you're smarter than me."

He didn't dare move, not even when he felt the whisper of Christophe's breath against his ear, as cold as the iron shackles trapping him in place.

"Which is it?"

The question sent a violent shudder through him.

There was no right answer.

And Christophe knew it.

3) The One And Only Flower In The World (17K, by EmHunter) - NSFW

Relevant Ships/Tags: Viktor/Yuuri, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Teen Romance, Falling in Love

I love “different first meeting” fics especially when it involves younger versions of Viktor and Yuuri, and this fic – that has them beginning to date in their teens – has some of the sweetest relationship development that I’ve come across in awhile.

The two of them meet when Viktor’s family moves to Japan due to his father’s job in Tokyo. When Viktor’s mother comes to the Ice Castle to request permission for Viktor to skate there from Takeshi’s father, Yuuri steps in to help translate, and is immediately taken aback at how beautiful Viktor is.

Their connection and the friendship between them is immediate, and there were some lines/scenes in the early courtship part of their relationship evolution that had me grinning like a moony idiot as I read; for example, the festival date during which they picnic and have their first kiss.

You can feel how much love and respect grows between them as the years pass, and how much their lives intertwine (particularly when Viktor chooses to stay in Japan so that he can be with Yuuri instead of returning to St. Petersburg when his father’s job requires him to relocate back home). A big draw for me were the really romantic as well as hot sex scenes (including one that fulfilled my every wish, b/c I’m a sucker for dirty talk, and there’s some top-tier Yuuri dirty talk in this story)

Note: you must be a registered member of the Archive in order to view this work

Excerpt:

Yuuri holds Victor’s hand tight in his and they laugh when they almost slip on the frozen ground, and then they laugh harder as they joke about how embarrassing it would be if two internationally renown figure skaters such as themselves, who practically spend their whole life on ice, couldn’t keep their footing in a frozen over park in Sapporo. They eat popcorn and sausages from the food vendors, and Victor is delighted that it’s getting late and dark enough for them to see the sculptures illuminated and enhanced with classical music from invisible loudspeakers.

The music changes and they burst out laughing again because it’s a slow piano instrumental of the very song they first skated to together with their hands entangled at the Ice Castle all those years ago.

Yuuri reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a blue origami rose he sneakily bought from one of the vendors while Victor was busy cooing over and petting someone’s dog.

“Yuuri!” Victor smiles his heart-shaped smile and accepts the delicate paper rose like it’s the most precious gift ever. “'sekai ni hitotsu dake no hana,’” he says as he looks up, grinning, a tip-off to the song, and Yuuri groans inwardly. He is in love with the cheesiest dork in the world.

“It’s like coming full circle,” Victor says as he pulls Yuuri close into a makeshift dance that is no dance at all because they are not moving and basically just sharing a really long hug. They remain like this for a little while longer, embracing while they look at the illuminated sculpture of an ice castle. Yuuri could stay like this forever. If it wasn’t for, well.

“Yuuri?”

“Mhm?”

“I’m cold.”

“Impossible…” Yuuri mutters under his breath as he leads the way back to their hotel. Victor is clinging to him all the time, complaining about being cold and hungry. Yuuri decides not to mention the fact that it was Victor’s particular wish to come here. He buys him a yakisoba sandwich and a canned hot coffee of in a konbini on the way, and at least hears nothing more about food until they reach their hotel.

4) hide under the sheets with me (3K, by widowmauk) - NSFW

Relevant Ships/Tags: Viktor/Yuuri, Porn with Feelings, Fluff and Smut, Mild Hurt/Comfort

Ahhhh, Viktor having insecurities about his skating being the only thing he has to offer Yuuri will never not make me weepy; this fic does such a beautiful job of laying out his fears during his comeback season, and is just the right mix of hurt/comfort as well as emotional sex featuring tooth-rotting fluff/sap.

It may make you cry (in a good way!)

Excerpt:

Viktor looks out the window. He blinks several times and his eyes look suspiciously shiny. “If I fail, you’ll leave.” Yuuri stares at him for a moment until it clicks.

“Vitya, no. I’m not going anywhere.” He turns Viktor’s face back to his. “I don’t care what happens! I don’t care if you win every medal or none. I don’t care if…if you don’t want to do this at all, if you want to just be a stay at home poodle dad. Vitya, I don’t care! I love you.” Viktor swallows heavily, eyes searching Yuuri’s face.

Yuuri suddenly has an armful of weepy fiancee. “Yuuri,” Viktor chokes. “I love you so much.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Yuuri insists. He runs his fingers through Viktor’s hair and holds him close. “I’ll never leave.”

“Promise?” Viktor whispers. Yuuri shifts so he can look Viktor in the eye, watery blue eyes staring back at him.

“I promise.”

Viktor draws him into a kiss. It’s salty, Viktor’s tears wet on his lips but he cups Yuuri’s face with trembling hands. “I love you,” Viktor whispers into the space between them when they draw back for air. Yuuri breathes it back and Viktor pulls him close again, Yuuri’s hand cupping the back of Viktor’s neck. He fingers the short hair at Viktor’s nape, twirls the fine silver hair between his fingers.

Lastly for Yuri!!! on Ice, I’m including my own fic -- take my hand and squeeze -- which is part 1 in a series about 18 year old Yuuri – who is extremely homesick, as he’s mere months into his first year living in Detroit – time-traveling a decade into the future to the 2021 off-season, where he meets his older self (as well as Viktor and Yurio).

Each part of the series will be from a different POV, and first up is Viktor’s; as you can imagine, younger Yuuri is extremely unsure of how to behave around him, and Viktor has a hard time not taking this “rejection” personally. Luckily, Yuuri (older Yuuri, that is) is there to reassure/comfort him

Excerpt:

(note: ‘Yuuri-kun’ is how Viktor and Older Yuuri refer to 18-year-old Yuuri)

When everything had fallen into place somewhere in the span of the last twenty minutes – as in, accepting that their new guest truly was 18-year-old Katsuki Yuuri, and Yuuri-kun accepting that he truly had time-traveled ten years into the future – Viktor had grown inconsolable, bursting into tears and then proceeding to bawl his eyes out in a way he’d never done before.

Ever, in his entire life.

Because in all of the time travel media he’d ever consumed (and he’d consumed a lot, especially after retirement had given him more free time than he’d ever had), Viktor had seen how it was pretty much impossible for two versions of the same person to exist in the same timeline.

As such, he’d been fully expecting The Universe to wink his spouse out of existence and had tearfully clung to Yuuri with what he knew to be a painful grip, begging every deity he knew that they be allowed to remain in the same timeline. Even now, the terror of that loss hadn’t fully seeped out of Viktor’s weary body.

Though he, himself, had ending up falling to pieces, his amazing Yuuri hadn’t similarly succumbed to panic. He’d become so preoccupied with comforting him, that Viktor figured perhaps his anxiety just hadn’t had the opportunity to fester. Indeed, his husband had held him tight and sworn over and over that he would never leave him. And, that if The Universe truly did see fit to wink him out of this current timeline, that he would do whatever it took to return to Viktor’s side. All throughout Yuuri’s weepy but fervent promises, they had been distantly aware of Yuuri-kun’s gaze, his eyes wide and undoubtedly unsure what to make of their dramatics.

Fruits Basket recs

1) Time Now Stands Still (6K, by Kekiistar, part 2 in a series) - WIP

Relevant Ships/Tags: Kyo/Yuki, Post-Canon, Internalized Homophobia, Slow Burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Post-canon Fruits Baskets fics are so interesting to me, and this one in particular immediately grabbed my attention, as 1) it takes place 7 years post-curse break on the cusp of some major changes in the lives of the Sohmas (i.e. Kazuma moving out of the dojo, Akito asking Yuki to take over for her as head of the family), and 2) it’s a slow burn, enemies-to-lovers story focused on the Kyo/Yuki dynamic. More and more, I’ve been coming around to their relationship as being one of the most compelling ships of the series (and, incidentally, if you’re interested in another great Yuki/Kyo fic, I highly recommend this one; I’ve read up to Chapter 13, and it’s excellent so far!).

At this point in time, Yuki and Machi are running a flower shop together in Tokyo, and Kyo is taking a few-week break from his dojo to come back home to visit Kazuma and the rest of the family. There still seems to exist a fair amount of antagonism on Kyo’s part, at least, towards Yuki, and in Chapter 3, this really comes to light, after a conversation with Haru makes Kyo realize how much unresolved feeling he still has towards Yuki.

This story is so far at 3 chapters of 5, and I love the writing style and the way each character’s inner thoughts and feelings are laid out. Below is an excerpt from Chapter 3, focused on the conversation between Kyo and Haru.

Excerpt (from Chapter 3):

Haru pinched his brows, sighing. “Yeah, I know. But, seriously Kyo, just like, relax about Yuki already. Honestly, you haven’t been back in town for more than a day and you’ve already brought him up like eleven times. You don’t have to be friends with him, far from it, but it’s not like you know him all that well, either.”

“Uhh, I know him plenty. I lived with the damn guy for like four years, remember?” Haru looked back, unimpressed.

“When’s his birthday?”

“...Spring?”

“It’s in September.” “Whatever. What does his birthday have to do with anything? I know he’s a bastard, and that’s all I need to know. Just because he’s not as much of a bastard as he was when he lived in the main house doesn’t change anything.”

“Look, point being is if you don’t like him, or even know him all that well, why do you even bother with him at all? Apparently you’d be happier without thinking about him, so why force yourself to go through the trouble?”

The redhead paused, pondering. Quickly shaking his head, he closed his box of childhood nicknacks back up, once again sealing his old things away.

“Because I need to pick up some damn flowers, that’s why.”

2) silent like snow (1.5K, by blue_crabs_from_maryland)

Relevant Ships/Tags: Haru & Yuki, Depression, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

I’ve been so in my feels lately when it comes to Yuki, and this is yet another Haru & Yuki friendship appreciation rec that really spoke to me in terms of one of the best aspects of Fruits Basket: the way the characters show platonic love and care for one another. There are some really beautiful and heart-wrenching lines in this fic and just be warned that in particular when it comes to mentions of Akito, the “Sohma Yuki Needs A Hug” tag is quite apt.

Excerpt:

Haru could be telling Yuki how to bake bread and Yuki would still listen, each word falling like a drop of water into the depleted well in the center of Yuki’s heart. He feels like, with every word, Haru revitalizes him, returns him back to the sanctuary of his own heart.

Yuki wonders if Haru knows what a kind word from his cousin would do to him. The gentle way that Haru runs his fingers through Yuki’s greasy hair and continues to talk to him as if this is just another day in the neighborhood, like Yuki and Haru bumped into each other in the hallway at school and stopped to chat, is indescribably precious to Yuki. With every quiet word, Yuki feels a step closer to who he used to be. He feels like he can believe in happy endings, when Haru’s standing near enough to touch, to listen, and to hold.

#my fic recs #yuri on ice #fruits basket #yuri on ice fanfiction #fruits basket fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction #yuri!!! on ice #furuba #monthly recs post

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astorytotellyourfriends · 8 days ago

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omg! omg! stripper eddie, regency brothel :O, spicy narrators and BANKER??????? (these all look so cool, but please make sure you take care of yourself)

thank you!!! don't worry, this is just the masterlist of ideas, i'm definitely not working on all of these at once 😅

stripper eddie is a sapphic hellcheer fic where chrissy goes to the strip club where eddie works for robin's bachelorette party andddd let's just say ... she likes what she sees 😏

the regency brothel au is the brainchild of me and @ebongawk from ... possibly over a year ago at this point? idk i can't remember, but luckily i wrote all of our ideas down so at least i didn't forget that! the basic plot is chrissy is working in a brothel as like a maid or something but jason (ew) demands to buy her time for a night from the brothel mother and eddie steps in to buy out chrissy's contact on the spot because he knows jason's reputation and how he treats the women he pays for and eddie will not let that happen to chrissy.

god every time i'm reminded of the spicy narrators au i just WEEP that i don't have the time for it right now!!! eddie and chrissy are both professional audiobook narrators who work for the same company but they live in different cities so they've never met. but then they're both contracted to narrate dueling povs in a romantasy novel and 👀 things get a lil spicy in and outside of the recording booth...

ok so honestly the banker au is a little bit of a red herring because like yes chrissy works at a bank but it's mostly to further along the rest of the plot which has almost nothing to do with the bank lmfao 😅 but!!! it's still important!!! because that's where she and eddie meet!! (it's also where they're both caught up in a bank robbery, but i promise eddie has nothing to do with it... until he inserts himself into it to save chrissy...)

ask me about my wips

#hellcheer #eddissy #chrissy x eddie #answered #darcylightninglewis #thank you!!!!! <3

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cutestkilla · 10 months ago

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Thank you so much for this ask (and @bookish-bogwitch and @aristocratic-otter too). You're all amazing and your self-recs are too - I cosign them all!

So: this is the first time I've gotten one of these where I actually HAVE 5+ fics (of my own) to choose from 😂 so you know what, even though it's a *somewhat* trivial process, I'm gonna DO THE THING and come up with a Top 5.

1. What's Left (133K, M)

My first fic, and still my favourite. Probably because conceptually, I don't think I'll ever come up with something this cool or interesting again. And also because I got to spend so many words with my version of the Humdrum (who many of you know as Sid), expanding on what we know of him from canon and all the ways he intersects with Simon, and I kind of just love him alot. This is definitely the plottiest thing I've ever written, with lots of twists and turns and what I think is a sort of an arc you can't predict from the start (pioneering the Baz/Humdrum tag!!), and that made it really fun to write, and I hope fun to read too. Also, this is the most painful thing I've written (it starts with Simon dead, folks), which if you know me at all, explains why it would be my favourite. 😂

2. Hiding Out in the Open (48K, M - WIP 5/7 chapters)

This takes the #2 spot for sure because: a) it's also got a decent amount of pain courtesy of an alt-WS divergence setting and b) it's also kinda high concept. And c) I'm writing it as a very drawn out birthday gift for my beloved @artsyunderstudy in honour of what is now OUR beloved psychology podcast of choice, Hidden Brain. My favourite thing about this one is the way I've worked all these real concepts in psychology (and real episodes of Hidden Brain) into the narrative in a way that I think feels organic and true to the characters. It's been a challenging puzzle to solve, but man have I learned some cool things along the way. This one IS a WIP, but I'm going full steam ahead on it, and even though the story is NOT over, ch 5 ends in a decently satisfying place.

3. Slamming and Smashing (18K, E)

My first (and only) E-rated fic! I'm more of a soft smut writer, but I had so much fun writing this one as a gift for @ic3-que3n based on prompts that included: NSFW, Simon slamming Baz into a wall (as referenced in Snow for Christmas), a very specific line from Bram Stoker's Dracula about wild rose, AND an Anastasia AU. This one is pretty low on pain/angst and high on post-canon fluff, but I did still give Baz a *bit* of a breakdown in it 😂. I'm proud of this one because I think it's hot and also because I managed to hit ALL those prompts in one smutty fic, and tell what I think is a pretty relatable story about how hard communicating can be in relationships.

4. Episode 5: The Tardigrade and His Boy (25K, T)

Another gift fic, this time for @raenestee! This was not only an amazingly fun collaboration with @facewithoutheart @aristocratic-otter @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @thewholelemon

@mostlymaudlin and @artsyunderstudy, but I found a way to have the Humdrum front and centre again which makes me so happy. I also cut my teeth writing Shep and Agatha POVs for the first time in this one, which was very fun. And I managed to write one of my most favourite types of fics: one that is both an AU and also secretly canon-compliant. This is my only true AU and I think it's a really fun romp (just like the rest of the series which I highly recommend).

5. This Is Your Place (18K, M)

This one was for Prompt Fest 2022 (a fest to celebrate the anniversary of @carryonprompts where - reminder - you can submit your Carry On fic prompt ideas and maybe someone will write them) and filled this prompt by @bookish-bogwitch:

"@ionlydrinkhotwater wrote this meta: "Omg Simon is such a ho, in retaliation for Baz pulling the open sesame move, he dashes to their room, showers, shaves (nicking his skin so he's a little bit bloody and therefore yummy) and "accidentally" comes out in just pajama bottoms with his tits full out, without the necklace." ... And I want to read a fic where Baz fuckin' Takes. The. BAIT."

What I think I did well in this one is building up both the tension and the empathy between Simon and Baz in a way that makes the payoff feel earned, even though the story only takes place over the course of a few hours, the day Baz gets back to Watford after the numpties. I also really love my Baz inner monologue in this, and that Simon gets to be a little bit smooth, too.

#oops wrote an essay #my writing #fic writer self rec #fic rec #why not #that IS what we're doing here!#ask game #carry on #carry on fanfic #snowbaz fanfic

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ahschrucymous · 1 month ago

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4, 8, 37, or 38, if you'd like to. hello!!

hiii ^_^ oh my gosh putting all my answers under a read more bc this definitely got away from me lol :') thank you!!

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

Right now I don't have any concrete fic ideas, but I do have a lot of shows/movies/media that I'd love to explore through a Schrucy lense just bc the dynamic reminds me so much of them!

Ships like Haru x Dan Oh from Extraordinary You, and Rang Rang x Su Zai Zai from WIFTY are very reminiscent of Schroeder and Lucy to me and very inspiring <3

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

This is very long and not really fleshed out at all yet, but I wanted to play with the idea of Schroeder being in love with Lucy and kind of patiently 'waiting for her' if that makes sense?

Because she's not ready to commit for various reasons. Anyway here you go:

"Do you think we were together in a past life?" She asked, when the sun began to drip into the horizon, the sounds of the rest of their friends continuing the party on the old baseball field behind them.

He considered it for a moment, still sagged against her lazily. His blond curls brushing dark waves.

Their friends continued on, unaware of the conversation taking place between them, used to the sight of Schroeder and Lucy together now, where there would've been scandal in the past. In the distance, Charlie Brown shrieked loudly, and Frieda laughed wickedly.

"Probably," Schroeder replied, looking into the sky's last rays, adding quietly. "Hopefully."

He didn't look at Lucy as he said it, feeling somehow that it would hurt more to look at her directly, than to drag his eyes from the dying sun.

Feeling somehow, that she was more blinding.

"What do you think we would've been like then?" Lucy asked, past the thumping of her heart.

She'd never get used to knowing that he loved her.

Schroeder hummed softly, shifting so he could lay his head down in her lap. The movement was easy, comforting and familiar even as it rushed the blood pumping through his heart. In a way, he was already answering her question.

Like this, Luce. We would've always been like this.

"What time period are you thinking of?" He asked her instead, fighting to keep himself steady. "Medie-"

"-val. Yes, exactly." She grinned, leaning down to run her fingers through his hair, loving how comfortable they'd become with each other. "You would've been a bard."

"And you would've been a princess," he replied, his chest warmed at her touch and her perception of him.

The dark-haired girl scoffed in soft disagreement "Not a queen?"

"Not without a king." The blond boy in her lap said, his eyes soft and a little sad. He reached up to grasp at her wrist, taking her hand and holding it to his chest, over his heart.

"If you were my queen," he conceded. "I'd have to change my advocation too, become a knight or something instead."

"Why?" Lucy asked as she leaned over him, swallowing thickly at the feeling of his hard and warm chest. "So that we could be close? Always in the same court?"

"Well, yeah." Schroeder looked up, unashamed in his selfish admiration of her. "That, and I've always known."

"Known what?" She quirked a brow, pushing past her heart again. "That you're in love with me?"

He nodded, but then he closed his eyes again. "That you're above me."

37. Talk about your current wips.

My only current WIP at the moment is milkshake lessons which I'm actually almost done with! I'm working on the last chap which is basically the 'epilogue' of sorts and I can't wait to get it closed off ^_^

38. Talk about a review that made your day.

Dude your reviews always make my day omg! Seriously I love the style and it's always a lot of fun going back over the chapter I've just posted and kind of seeing it through your eyes :') I can't thank you enough genuinely <3

#bee buzzes #shrucy #schroeder felton #lucy van pelt #writing asks

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philaet0s · 3 months ago

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Six Sentence Paragraph Sunday

I very desperately needed distraction from the chaos that is my life currently this week, so I wrote a bit! Escapism, woohoo

Love Actually

Baz

I think she’s about to call me boring, or old again, when her phone chimes. My eyes are unconsciously drawn to the notification. Harry. I’ve heard of that boy. He’s her best friend at uni.

She laughs when she opens the message before turning her phone to show me the screen. ‘OMG tell your brother I said hi’

“I do not know this boy, Mordelia,” I answer, flatly, as I go back to doing her makeup.

“He knows you though. I made the mistake of showing him a family picture because he was curious what my siblings look like. He thinks you’re super hot.”

She doesn’t sound too pleased about that. I understand. ‘Hot’ is not a word I ever want to hear in relation to any of my family members. Niall being in love with Dev has always been torture.

“So yeah, if you were still looking for a boyfriend, I could have set you up.”

Exes

Simon

Now that Cassie doesn’t live home anymore, it’s harder releasing them. There’s no one to spell them away.

“It’s not good for them. Or for you,” he says as his eyes soften.

“They’re out now,” I answer, before promptly pressing my lips to Baz’s shoulder. And pressing his hips into the mattress.

I want to get us back into that mood. That very good mood we were in just seconds ago. I want him to think about having sex with me and nothing else. I can’t… I can’t have him look at me with something so akin to care in his eyes.

“They deserve to be. They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

So are you. As beautiful as you were on the day I signed ‘Salisbury’ again for the first time at the bottom of several pages. You wore your hair up because it was a little greasy, and you were dressed all in black, like a man in mourning. Perhaps you were.

Captive Prince

Not Snowbaz... The WIP folder game reminded me of the existence of this One fic for another fandom, and then my brain couldn't stop thinking about it. This fic is so precious to me but I rarely get the time to write it

Jewellery? Jord couldn’t remember seeing the prince put it there, and yet, as he reached inside one of the pockets, his finger was pricked by the sharp pin of an earring. Singular. Though he searched for it, he could not find a second one. He did find a necklace, much too luxurious for the kind of establishment they were headed to.

They were going to get robbed, Jord thought. The prince would end the night with a knife against his throat, if not because he was the Prince of Vere parading in the Akielon capital city, then because he was masquerading as a rich… noblewoman? Prostitute? Jord wasn’t certain. He wasn’t certain what his role was supposed to be.

He was, however, certain that he did not like any part of this plan.

“I cannot find the second one…”

“There is none,” the prince said as he took the earring. “Help me with the necklace.”

As he hung the gorgeous sapphire on his ear, Jord put the necklace around his throat. When Laurent turned around, Jord was ashamed to think that it suited him. Jewellery was for pets, not high-born men, but after all, for many years at Arles, people spoke of the prince’s peculiar kind of beauty. The kind that would have made him cost a fortune, if he wore silks and jewels like this every day.

@jiksvokrat I hope you don't mind, I thought i'd tag you bc I posted a bit from my capri fic aha. I kind of want you to read it, I'm very frustrated with myself for not having written more so I don't even have a proper chapter to offer sending you lol (I've written 10k............)

#snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #co/ws/awtwb #captive prince #fanfiction #wip

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xiaokuer-schmetterling · 3 months ago

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FTH 2025

so as a brand new podficcer, i am super excited to participate in this year's FTH charity fanworks auction! i'll link it when the auction goes live

UPDATE: creator offerings are up for preview and bidding opens on 25-FEB

but in the meantime, here's what i just submitted in the sign-ups as my author profile:

->Are there specific characters or pairings that you are particularly interested in focusing on?

my very favorite and oldest ship is wangxian from mdzs/the untamed! i am active in svsss fandom for bingqiu, bingyuan, binggeyuan, qijiu and moshang and sometimes bingliushen. i am active in the tgcf/heaven official’s blessing fandom for the hualian, beefleaf and fengqing ships. i have an ongoing love affair with guardian and the weilan and chuguo ships. i am active in the word of honor/shl fandom for wenzhou and yexie ships.

fandoms that i enjoy but don’t live in: gideon the ninth (the locked tomb) for the main griddlehark ship. star trek (tos & aos) for spirk! due south for benton x rayk; marvel for stucky; h50 for mcdanno; top gun & top gun maverick for icemav (ICEMAN LIVES) and hangster; yoi for viktuuri; dc for superbat

all that being said: i am willing to podfic for any fandom & any ship that is not pedophilia or parent/child incest. however, if you pick a fic from a fandom i'm unfamiliar with it will take me a lot longer to get started reading it since i'd have to check out the source media to do the project justice. oh! consider picking a few shorter pieces that add up to your total bid-related word limit ($10 per 1k) to mix and match our favorite fandoms???

->Are there particular subjects, themes or tropes that you are particularly interested in focusing on?

i will read polyships, crackships, rarepairs. i celebrate bi-visibility, acespec rep and queerplatonic found families! i prefer to create for a ship that is queer, whether that is gender identity or sexuality. i like neurodiverse characters (explicit or implied).

i like to support wips. my favorite fic of all seems destined to languish an unfinished wip. i hope that one day it will get enough love to reinspire the author and reconnect them to their desire to write it. got a fic like that? I’M SO THERE

i like all sorts of tropes and rating levels. from gen fic and kid fic thru teen shenanigans and ranging all the way thru to Let’s Get Weird and Have a Kinky Fun Time! lets do a crawl thru the tags on my bookmarks:

there was only one bed! omg they were roommates! fix-it; canon-compliant but fills in the gaps; canon divergent; character study; canon? don't know her; gratuitous hair care; forehead kisses; good good hugs; hurt/comfort; humor; pining; angst with a happy ending; post canon; first time; second first-time; reincarnation; pov outsider; competence kink; caretaking kink; crack fic; crack treated seriously; omegaverse; mpreg; pregnancy and/or lactation; breeding kink; monsterfucking; tentacles; eggpreg; royalty au; sports au; high school/college au; modern with magic; modern no magic; spaceships; robots; body-modification; actors au, idols au, GBBO au; dom/sub; BDSM; bondage; shibari; pet play; werewolves; vampires; ghosts; dragons; fox-spirits; medieval au; demons; con non-con (scene negotiated on-screen or before scene starts but mentioned bc CONSENT IS SEXY); any animal shapeshifters bc i eat that shit like candy; transmigration with system; transmigration with no system; transmigration but the character doesn’t know they transmigrated; hockey player RPF; crossovers/fusions; time-travel; identity shenanigans; mafia au; hospital au; genderswap/exploring gender identity…

all that being said, a gentle reminder that if you choose a fic in a fandom i am familiar with, it will be much easier for me to get started because i will already know and love and be connected to the characters!!! if you request a fic reading from a fandom i don't know it will also take me longer to do because i would want to research the fandom a bit and get excited about it too, so as to make it fun for me to read! if you include your ao3 handle in the request, i will gift it to you. if you aren't a registered ao3 user, no worries! i cross post all my podfics on my blog

tl;dr--in this house we don't kinkshame & we support sex workers!!!!! and i'll probably give your pick a try!!!

->Are there particular subjects, themes, pairings, etc that you are NOT willing to address?

i have 3 hard-no things: fics containing actual noncon between the main ship; pedophilia in the main (point of view character(s)) ship; parent/child incest in any ship. those are a firm pass for me.

these are things that i do not enjoy and would make it difficult for me to continue reading a fic if they are a majority of the content: torture porn (hurt/no comfort and hurt with no purpose other than to cause pain & suffering); spiders & other bugs; angst with no guaranteed happy ending; miscommunication with no resolution; manipulation and/or gaslighting between main ship; intentional & unresolved infidelity between main ship characters

i will typically refuse to read sex acts involving the following, but invite you to make your case if you feel very strongly about it (or it 'occurs off-screen’): scat, vomit, piss, bestiality, vore, explicit non-con, your name fics (y/n), reader x character-in-one-of-my-main-ships, genderswap to force a hetero pairing from an originally explicitly queer ship

->Any other notes about your offer? Be sure to give enough detail for bidders to know what they'll be getting!

firstly! pick a fic from an author with blanket permission or reach out to them for permission to podfic before bidding closes. i can help you do this if you’re not comfortable reaching out directly to the author. (aside from ao3 and tumblr, i am available via my fandom email xkspods9 @ gmail [.] com). if you like my reading style but don’t have a fic picked out, i would be thrilled to have you choose from my ao3 bookmarks! also, i don’t mind recording for a fic that already has a podfic. TWO CAKES BABEY!!!

my “brand” is what i like to call “bedtime stories” podfic. due to some circumstances beyond the scope of this post, my podfics are recorded on my secondhand e-reader in a very basic app. i usually read curled up in bed or in my favorite chair. i like to imagine my close fandom friends as the intended recipient to give it a cozy hangout charm. so the concept goes like this: “bedtime stories is a very chill, completely unedited, live-read style podfic. so you get comfy and i'm gonna read you a story.”

one of the reasons i started making podfics is bc i am post-T-puberty genderqueer transmasc and learning to lean into and love my new voice. i am experimenting with and learning how to do consistent character voices, but it is not a strength of mine at this time. and, again, my ability to do that will depend on my familiarity with the characters and the source media. i also sometimes play songs in the background to help me focus (autism & adhd here), especially for longer projects (but i’ve figured out how to play the music directly in my headphones while still recording, if you don’t want to have what i am listening to also recorded while i am reading)

i like to pair music videos/fanvids/gifs with my podfics in the ao3 post to make it a fun multimedia experience (and like a game for me!) even with my nonexistent editing and post-production style. i welcome the bidder to share their “fandom propaganda”--i want to know why you love the fic(s) and why you chose it to be podficced! and maybe i'll feature a fanvid you shared with me in the ao3 post!

so. if what you want for your podfic are lots of post-production editing with added sound effects & soundscaping/music effects, with a “perfect” read and no environmental noise or outside interruptions: i am not the person to make that project for you. if you don’t mind/actively enjoy a "friendly hangout & fandom chatty" sort of cold-read & zero-editing style, then bid on me!

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#fth 2025 #charity auction #fanworks auction #xk_s_reads #🎧 process podfic #ao3 #podfic

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