#also thank u so much for asking about this! i am posting this snippet for You specifically :)

[qlala]

Long casefic mentioned: screaming crying tearing at the walls of my enclosure

listen I know I've been sooo lock and key about this one for years because I wanted it to be perfect before I posted any WIP snippets, BUT... 2024 we are all learning to say "death to perfectionism," so december 2023, I am also saying "After all, why not? Why shouldn't I share a little snippet?"

setting notes for the below: a CCPD precinct, a few months after Flashpoint. (If you never got there in the show, don't worry about it; Len doesn't know what it means, either.) Barry and Len haven't seen each other since Len tipped him off to the Trickster ambush the previous Christmas, and as far as Barry knows, Len has been off with the Legends ever since. (He hasn't been.)

It was fascinating to watch Snart pull the Captain Cold bravado around his shoulders, even with his hands cuffed to an interrogation room table and no parka in sight. He rolled his shoulders back, slouched down in the chair—as far as the cuffs allowed—and crossed one ankle over his opposite knee. Then he rolled his bored gaze insolently in Barry’s direction and raised an eyebrow. 

“Seems you have me at a disadvantage.” 

Barry realized his mistake, a moment too late; as far as the CCPD was concerned, he and Snart had never met.

“Right,” Barry said. He wasn’t an officer, so protocol was fuzzy on whether he was supposed to introduce himself to an... inmate? Had Snart gotten himself arrested again?

Snart’s smirk deepened at his obvious floundering, so Barry looked to Joe instead.

Joe gave him the same resigned look he’d just received from Singh, but unlike Singh, Joe took pity on him. He flipped shut the file he’d been reading, then slid it across the table toward him.

It came to a stop within inches of Snart’s fingertips, and Barry saw him test the cuffs covertly as if considering intercepting it. Barry picked it up before he could try, throwing him a knowing glare. 

Snart didn’t bother looking chastened. 

The file, Barry noticed, was thicker than most that passed through the CCPD. When he flipped it open and saw the FBI seal emblazoned on the front page, he understood why.

A paper clip held a picture of Snart to the next page: a recent shot, judging from the hints of gray in his hair. Barry started to turn the page, then became aware of the twin looks of apprehension he was receiving from Joe and Snart. When he glanced questioningly at Snart, he looked away, feigning interest in his handcuffs. Barry looked to Joe instead, and felt a prickle of uneasiness when Joe only shook his head, knuckles pale where they were wrapped around the back of the empty metal chair across from Snart.

Barry flipped forward in the file. The next few pages were background on Snart, with no major changes from what Barry had expected. He was familiar with Snart’s rap sheet already, and the psychological profile they’d drawn up on him was about as accurate as a tabloid horoscope. He did feel an old pang of guilt when he passed a memo noting the unexplained disappearance of Snart’s electronic files, but it was getting easier to brush that feeling aside every time.

Unsurprisingly, the medical records from Iron Heights were sparse. Several pages were entirely blank, but there was a scribbled correction stapled to the bottom of one, noting, of all things, a severe food allergy to pineapples. Barry couldn’t help but grin at that; for such a mundane detail, it had apparently only recently been wrested from Snart, and with great effort. 

He skimmed the rest of Snart's section. It was obvious that—tropical fruit allergies aside—the FBI knew less about Snart than he did. He pulled up short, however, when he turned to the next section and found another photograph clipped into the file.

“What is this?” He looked up at the answering silence, but Snart avoided his gaze, and Joe crossed his arms with obvious discomfort. “Joe?”

“Bartholomew," Snart interrupted, before Joe could answer, and Barry looked over at him in surprise. Snart gave him a slow, knowing smirk. “It is Bartholomew, isn’t it?” 

No one had ever said his full name with such obvious relish, and Barry seriously considered throwing back a Lenny just to see how he liked it. But he caught himself in time, and he bit back an exasperated sigh.

“How do you know my name?” he asked. 

It wasn’t very convincing, and a flicker of annoyance crossed Snart’s expression, obviously displeased that he wasn’t playing along with proper enthusiasm. Then the smirk was back, and Snart leaned back in his seat with an air of indifference. 

Barry watched him suspiciously; he looked far too in control of the whole situation despite being the one handcuffed to the table.

“Feds didn’t tell me much,” Snart said. “But this…” He dragged his gaze down and back up Barry’s body in a long, appraising look. “This, I can work with.” 

“Joe,” Barry repeated, pointedly ignoring Snart. There was a slightly hysterical edge to his voice, though, and Joe sighed and unfolded his arms. 

“What do you know about the Morellos?” 

Barry blinked; whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that. The name was vaguely familiar, and it took him a few moments to put together where he’d heard it before. 

“They’re an East Coast crime family,” he said, slowly. He looked to Joe for confirmation, and Joe nodded. “They practically ran Metropolis during Prohibition. Not much from them, since? I think they’re still active, but… they’ve mostly been pushed out by other Families.”

“Someone’s been listening to his podcasts.”

Joe didn’t so much as glance at Snart for the interruption, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “Until recently, that was the case,” he said. “Members of the other Families have started dropping like flies, and the FBI thinks the Morellos are moving to take back power.”

Barry flipped through the file until he found a brief on the topic, and nodded for Joe to continue. 

“Last year, they worked out some kind of alliance with the Russian mob,” Joe said, “and now they control ninety percent of the heroin passing through Metropolis. The FBI couldn’t figure out what they were trading for that kind of power, until they realized the drug deals were lining up with major art thefts in the city.”

Barry glanced up from the brief, thrown by the apparent non-sequitur. “What would the Russians want with stolen art?”  

Snart snorted, and Barry turned to him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Universal value,” Snart explained. He swept his palms in a broad gesture, though it was restricted by the limited reach of the handcuffs. “Markets crash, currencies fall. A Picasso stays a Picasso. And canvas is easier to smuggle than gold.”

There was a certain logic to it, though Barry suspected it was a lot more complicated than Snart was making it sound.

“And, what, you’re involved with this?” he asked.

Snart actually looked insulted. “Drug trade’s a nasty business,” he said, a curl to his lip despite his light, almost bored tone. “Messy work. Lotta bribes, lotta bodies. Hard to make a profit when the product keeps killing your buyers. Not my scene.”

“What’s this got to do with you, then?” Barry asked. He pulled the second picture out of the folder and held it up. “Or me?”

It was a copy of the photo from his CCPD identification. It was a few years old—his hair was longer on top, his shoulders a little narrower—and Snart’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Cute,” he said. 

Barry rolled his eyes and slid the picture back into the file.  

“Snart’s managed to get it into the FBI’s head that he’d make a good criminal informant. Apparently, he’s an expert in modern abstract expressionism,” Joe said, the last part clearly a quote. When Barry turned to him, surprised, Joe only shrugged. “I know. Surprised me too.”

“Learn all kinds of interesting things in my line of work,” Snart said, picking idly at the edge of his handcuffs. “Ab Ex dominates the market, has for decades. Post-War’s always in style. It's easy. People get it.” 

His fingers didn’t curl around air quotes; they didn’t have to, his voice going vapid in a way that almost, almost pulled a smile out of Barry. Leonard Snart, closet art snob.

 “Unspeakable horrors,” Snart continued, with a lazy, ‘and so on’ twirl of his fingers. “Expressible only through feelings over form…” He circled the gesture back the other way, with momentarily distracting, long-fingered grace. “Yada-yada-yada. Modern art fan, Bartholomew?”

He was having too much fun with the name, and Barry gave him a flat look for it. 

“Barry.”

Snart’s lashes dipped on another once-over before he met his gaze again, eyes sharp and amused. “Pleasure.” 

Barry didn’t need the way Snart leaned hard on the word, drawing it out even as his lips curled up at one corner, to tell him he’d walked right into that trap.

Snart lifted one hand and twisted the cuffs to extend the other out toward him, as close to offering a handshake as he could manage. “Leonard Snart. At your service.”

Doubt it, Barry thought. But he bit back the comment and crossed his arms instead, folding his hands pointedly against his sides, then said, “Yeah. I know.”

Snart’s eyebrows lifted at the slight, and he lifted both hands in surrender. “Ouch.” He dropped his lashes on a private smirk just to flick his gaze back up again, not finished with the taunt yet. “Thought we might have something in common. Civilian to civilian.” 

Even the decades-old camera in the corner could probably pick up the amount of irony dripping from Snart’s voice, but Barry’s warning glance didn’t deter him in the least. 

“What with you being an employee of the CCPD,” Snart said, tilting one hand in Barry’s direction before curling his fingers back to indicate himself, “and me being an employee of the FBI…”  

“Criminal informant's not an employee.”

Barry didn’t jump at Joe’s correction, but it was a near thing. What was it about Snart that made it so easy to forget that there were other people in a room? 

“Tomato, tomato,” Snart drawled. He didn’t so much as glance in Joe’s direction, attention still trained on Barry. “Feds want me to infiltrate the local underground in Metropolis, see if I can't rustle up a few Morello 'associates.’” That time, he did curl his fingers in quotation marks around the word. “I pass along the names, the feds arrest them. Everybody goes home happy.” He paused, then added, “Morellos excluded.”

Barry was tempted to ask Snart how long he’d been waiting for him to ask, but he had more pressing questions. “And you agreed to help, what, out of the goodness of your heart?” 

Snart leaned across the table towards him with a dangerous smile, handcuffs scraping pointedly over the metal surface. 

“Let’s agree to disagree about the goodness of my heart,” he said, and any lingering concerns that Barry might've had about Snart might not know exactly who he was disappeared at the private gleam in his eyes over those words. “But no. Feds had a little chat with the District Attorney here in Central City. Detective West knows the details, but—“ He drummed his fingers on the table, then ticked his head toward one shoulder in a shrug. “Like I said. Everybody goes home happy.”

When Barry looked at Joe for clarification, Joe shifted his hands to his hips before pulling his glare away from Snart, one hand settling pointedly beside his gun.

“The Mayor of Metropolis reached out to our governor," Joe said. "They’re talking pardons.”  

“Yahtzee.”

There were a hundred follow-up questions Barry could’ve asked. But Snart was clearly still enjoying himself too, and Barry wasn't in the mood for more roundabout non-answers. So Barry turned his back on Snart and faced Joe head-on. 

“I still don’t understand,” he said. “What's my role here?” 

“For the record," Joe said, slowly, almost placatingly, "I told Singh this was a terrible idea.”

Joe hedging was never a good sign, and for the first time, Barry felt the stirrings of real apprehension in his chest.

“You told Singh what was a terrible idea?” 

[wolfjackle-creates]

broski I beg of u to tell me about your Danny is Clark’s nephew wip im so intrigued

@hailsatanacab also asked about this one! I shared two snippets for them so check out Part 1 and Part 2. (about 900 words total between the two asks.)

This was inspired by the discussion on a prompt you made ages ago, actually! Here's the post. The main prompt isn't the inspiration, however. It was the comment about Danny joining the JL and [insert spiderman meme here].

Let's see if I have anything I can add. (I changed things enough when posting the first bits that everything else I have doesn't fit anymore.)

Eh, fine. Just went through and wrote another 600 words.

-----

Danny winced. “Yes, Uncle Cl— Kal. Uncle Kal.” Danny glanced next to him and realized Constantine had moved several feet away and was deliberately trying to not attract attention. He bit back a smile and pulled on the Prince Phantom persona Queen Dora had forced him to learn. “Thank you for your assistance, Laughing Magician. I now declare our deal complete and will make no further claims on you.” He waved his hand producing a piece of parchment which he handed over. “As promised, your payment.”

Constantine grabbed the paper and backed away quickly. “Great. Glad to do business with you, your highness. Hope your family reunion goes well. I’ll just—” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, then changed something and disappeared through a portal even as several of the League members present tried to yell at him to stop.

Danny rolled his eyes as he fell back into his more relaxed demeanor. “Oh, please. What more did you want from him? I’ll talk to Uncle Kal and he can decide what is important to pass on. Magician Constantine already told you most of what he knows.”

“Just… come on, Danny,” said Uncle Clark. “We need to talk.”

---

Finding a place to talk to Danny wasn’t the problem, Clark quickly realized. Shaking off his coworkers, however… Bruce in particular did not want to be left out. And Wally was too curious to be put off.

“Danny?” called Clark when he realized the kid wasn’t with him.

“By the viewing window,” said Bruce. “He seems to enjoy the view.”

“Right. Should’ve guessed.” Clark cursed himself silently for forgetting how much the kid loved space. “Batman, please. I know you like to know everything. But can I just talk to my nephew alone? I’ll explain everything I can after, but I need to know how this situation could’ve happened in my own family without my knowledge first without you being there inserting Opinions.”

“Very well. I’ll collect Flash and we’ll leave the two of you alone. But I expect a full report after.”

“I’ll make a peach cobbler, Ma’s recipe, and head to the Manor tomorrow to tell you everything.”

“I’ll let Nightwing know.”

Clark sighed. “I’ll make two cobblers.”

Bruce’s lips twitched upward, but he turned without saying anything more. “Flash! Since this matter is going to be delayed, I believe you still have to file your report on the incident last week.”

Clark chuckled as Flash protested. But he didn’t listen to their discussion, instead joining Danny by the viewing window. He settled an arm around his nephew’s shoulders. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“I can’t believe you get to come up here and look out at the stars any time you want.”

“I don’t get up here as much as I’d like, I’m afraid. And when I am up here, it’s because something somewhere is going wrong so I don’t get to appreciate it as much as I’d like to.”

“So, if you’re an alien, does that mean Dad’s an alien, too? Is that why he is the way he is? Am I part alien?”

Clark laughed and ruffled Danny’s hair. Like this, it felt almost insubstantial, like passing his hand through mist. “Fraid not, kid. No one knows why your dad is the way he is. I can’t remember how often he was tested for the meta gene.”

“Once a year every year from the time he was six until he was twenty-two and graduated undergrad and started living on his own. Then he stopped for a few years. Until he started dating Mom. He accidentally broke her apartment door once and she insisted he get tested again.”

Clark wanted to laugh, but all he could remember was Danny’s earlier statement. “Danny… Are you…safe with your parents?”

-----

Again, anyone is free to continue this! If anyone wants, I can combine everything into one post to make it easier to do so.

[sweet-drmzzz]

wowowowow I’m finally doing a pinned post

Hiya!! My names are Z-Fey, and Faele (pronounced fey-elle)!! I am the host of a median collective, and this is my/our main blog. You can find our plural side blog here: @treehousearchive

I go by Fae/Zi/It/They pronouns, and idrc how the grammar around them works (so you could say “fae are a person with adhd” or “fae is a person with adhd.” Please use my neopronouns as much as, if not more than you use they/it

if you misgender me I’ll eat ur knees /hj

I am faekin and foxkin, and I’m absolutely amazing at it. Don’t try to disprove alterhuman shit. I won’t listen. Also keep any alterhuman discourse off this blog. All nonhumans are welcome here. Yes even physical ones. Yes even ones that truly believe they are an animal. Yes even mentally ill/delusional ones.

Collectively we are aspec and arospec. Afaik that goes for everyone in our collective but I could be wrong.

currently I don’t check my discord, if you need to reach me my asks and DMs on here are the fastest ways.

I use a lot of emoticons, abbreviations, and tone tags :3

tone tag key:

/lh- light hearted

/j- joking

/hj- half joking

/sarc- sarcasm

/nm- not mean

/nf- not forced

/gen- genuine

/aesth- aesthetic (used to describe aesthetic attraction. Ex. “He’s hot /aesth”

if I ever use one u don’t understand just ask! I’m more then willing to inform!

DNI:

Pedos. Like genuinely. Pedos maps etc fucking disgust me. Stay tf away from my blog

Zionist. Yeah nuhuh. If u support genocide I don’t want to talk to u.

Homophobes/Transphobes. I’m gay asf. I don’t think you want to be here.

Zoophiles. No. Just no.

Anti furry/Anti alterhuman. Once again. I’m a therian. Y would u want to be here???

Sexual/kink blogs. Nothing against you, have ur fun. Idrc. I’m just not comfy w that.

Anti-endos. I don’t want that negativity on my blog. All good vibes here.

If you demonize mental illnesses (like schizophrenia or npd) fuck off. If you use “delulu” or treat serious mental illnesses as silly little things fuck off.

Anti aro/aspec. This shouldn’t even be a thing? Just let people exist?

if I don’t like u I’ll block u.

With all due respect, which is none, leave me alone.

Tags!!

#Happy Fox Hours

Foxkin euphoria and just generally happy foxkin related stuff

#Happy Fae Hours

Second verse, same as the first but w fae stuff this time.

#Zi speak!!

text posts and me ranting

#Soda Spill

My writing. Includes poetry and short stories/snippets from bigger stories. (Please note that since originally making this I have stopped using the name Soda, as that has gone to one of my headmates. This tag may change soon.)

#Faele agrees

Rebolgs!! I might forget to tag my rebolgs. I’ll try my best but if I do my apologies.

#Sad bitch time

vents n stuff. Me being depressed.

Boundaries: mostly im fine with anything.

pls don’t tag me in angelic/religious stuff, or send it to me. Especially if it has eyes featured prominently.

uhh i feel like this shouldn’t need to be said but just in case: foxes are a game animal where I live. I already see my kind’s hides enough. Don’t show me pics of that.

just yk… if i ask u to quit do so please. There’s nothing rly big other than those two things that I can think of. Be nice.

My filter tag list is here. If you are intentionally rude and disrespectful about it you will be blocked.

I have a side blog for Will wood stuff called @willwooddaily

thank you for your time!!

(userbox by @/plural-userboxes)

[suddencolds]

sending u a star!! ⭐️ sorry i wanted to go thru and pick a specific fic but im too sleepy lol but any yvescent piece u had thoughts on :D

[from Fanfic Writers - Director's Cut]

hello!!! THANK YOU N, IT MADE ME REALLY HAPPY TO RECEIVE THIS 🥹🥹🥹

I also realize am responding to this like 2 months late :') I thought for a long time on which fic to comment on, and now that I've posted Atypical Occurrence pt. 2, I thought I might as well write out my thoughts on it while they're still fresh and bc it's close to my heart (I hope that's okay hehe)

—

⚠️❗️ Warning that I will be attaching snippets from my deleted drafts below!! Please read the published installment before you proceed to read this post. This is a little embarrassing... all I can say is that those drafts were deleted for a reason 🥴

—

There’s a grocery store that’s a ten minute drive from Vincent’s apartment. 

I rewrote this scene... 3 or 4 times? It gave me sooo much trouble 😭 I think in the first draft Vincent actually tears up tasting Yves's cooking. (I know, Vincent, I want Yves to cook for me too 😭❗️)

Terrible (ugh 😭) first draft screenshot under the cut (screenshot = old draft, indented quote = current draft):

(Yves pulling up a chair at the end... you can tell he is totally at a loss on what to do 😭 and I, too, was at a loss on what to do)

I wrote this ^, and I was like... this moment just feels unearned? I personally despise outlining + I love going in (mostly) blind. Sometimes the first draft works out of the box, and in this case, the first draft (and the second draft, and the third draft) were all soooo bad that I literally had to take a month-long break to regain my confidence 😭

Anyways! I knew right away that Y was going to cook something for V (it's mentioned here and there throughout the series that he is a really good cook 😭 And in part 3 of Fool Me Twice, Yves promises to make Vincent something more ambitious than hot chocolate. He's finally kept his promise now, 12 installments later 🙇‍♀️ )

From draft 2, there was only one scene which I was sure I was going to include in the final draft, aka, spared from the recycling bin. (But I just checked the final draft and it's nowhere to be seen?? Interesting.)

I would have managed fine on my own.

On this (deleted) scene, and more broadly: I think it's important to me that Yves recognizes that Vincent is self-sufficient in many ways: when Vincent says he will be fine alone, he is telling the truth. Yves doesn't have to stay—he recognizes this too, when he heads for the door in the published draft.

Still, Yves stays, of course—initially, because he insists, and later, because Vincent asks :)

“…You won’t leave unless I eat, then,” Vincent says. He says it evenly enough that it barely registers as a question. Yves smiles at him. It’s not a wrong conclusion. “Exactly,” he says.

It was really, really fun writing the differences between caretaker!Vincent (in Fool Me Twice pt. 5) and caretaker!Yves 😊 I usually don't like to say too much on the end of character analysis, bc I like my work to be interpreted as it is: the text is canon, and everything I'm saying here is just me yapping on about my headcanons. (I have been roasted for saying this by a dear friend of mine, probably rightfully so:)

With that disclaimer: Vincent to me (I can only speculate, etc) is a very no-bullshit caretaker (he likes to enforce whatever will lead most directly to the person's recovery; he actually worries a lot, but his worry often manifests as frustration/snappishness), whereas Yves is a lot more permissive and, for the most part, manages his stress—he is the eldest sibling, after all! I think he does what he can to make it a more tolerable experience :)

“So this is just a Yves thing.” “What? Showing consideration for my friends?”  “Showing consideration is one thing,” Vincent answers. “You could have left after dropping off the files. You would still have been showing your consideration.” “I guess that’s true. But at that point, I was already here,” Yves says, with a shrug. “It seemed logical to check up on you.” “Well, now you’ve checked up on me,” Vincent says. “So you can go.” Yves supposes this is true.

Vincent takes things very literally (and I think he's actually quite aware of the social niceties around these kinds of things, which is in part why he is so skeptical to assume that Yves means anything more.)

There’s a hand on his sleeve, tugging. Yves goes very still. When Vincent notices what he’s done, alarm flashes through his expression, and he pulls his hand away as if he’s burned.  “Sorry,” he murmurs, again. And just like that, he’s back to how he always is—his expression perfectly, carefully neutral, in a way that can only be constructed. “I’m sorry.” But Yves doesn’t forget what he’s seen. “You can go.”

This scene means a lot to me!! It took a loooot of editing to hammer into place (the doc I wrote it on is titled "fixing this scene would FIX ME" haha). I think this is the first time Vincent has actively sought out Yves's comfort 😭 And he regrets it almost as soon as he's said it, because he does not do things without a good justification, and wanting something—even wanting it badly—does not feel like a sufficient justification to him. But give Yves an inch and he will take a mile!! He will take a hundred miles!! That is just the kind of person that Yves is.

I was talking with some friends previously about how I wanted to write Vincent reaching out for Yves. How I wanted Vincent to, through the haze of fever, cross a line that he'd previously not allowed himself to cross :') I think it is a time-old trope to have someone, in their feverish delirium, utter something embarrassing and utterly uncharacteristic of them, or divulge something that has been difficult for them to say.

This whole time drafting, I was thinking, how can I set up a moment like that and have it feel earned? How badly would he have to be feeling? What kind of setup would justify getting past his 590859 mental defenses? (I do not like to outline, but sometimes I do have an emotional beat that I have in mind, and then I have to work backwards to figure out the setup. This took SO much working back from, and I really thought about it for very long). I was almost sure that Vincent would regret it immediately after too 😭

Yves opens his arms out in offering, tries on a smile. “I’ve been told I give good hugs. Good enough to cure all ailments, obviously.”

Ahh, so Y offering V a hug is inspired by a fic I read 6 years ago, where a character offers another a hug as a joke and then the other character surprises them by taking it. Yves is really offering here, but I think he recognizes that joking about it will make it easier for Vincent to accept 😭

Yves has hugged a fair share of people in his life. He doesn’t think he’d be able to list them all if he were asked to. It’s different, though, being so close to Vincent—so close that Yves can reach out and let his hair fall through his fingertips. He can lift up his palm and feel the rigid line of his spine, the slope of his shoulders; he could reach out and trace the dip of his wrist, the form of his hand. Vincent’s chin digs slightly into his left shoulder. His nose is turned slightly into Yves’s neck—like this, he is almost perfectly still. Yves can feel the warm brush of air against his neck whenever Vincent exhales. He is so close that Yves is afraid, for a moment, that he might hear how badly his heart is racing.

I have nothing to say about this paragraph except that I edited it for like 40 minutes straight.

Last thing!!

“We had a habit of keeping the heat off, in the winters, and closing the windows.”

The scene near the end (where Vincent tells Yves about his childhood) is actually the scene which came the most easily to me. I also did not write it last; I jumped around. It took me around 1.5 hours. (By comparison, simply editing the scene before it took 11 😵‍💫)

I did always intend for Vincent to disclose... well, /something/ about himself. (You can tell that when I plan, that's really as far as I plan LOL)

Anyways, when Vincent wakes Yves up (after Yves falls asleep at his desk), I initially wrote it so that Yves wakes Vincent from a nightmare.

But (as direct a link to vulnerability as that might have been,) Vincent would not talk about his nightmare 😭 So I switched gears.

I also specifically wanted to write about Vincent's experience being cared for growing up. I think something that's culturally resonant with me (as an Asian American, and the eldest daughter to immigrant parents) is like, the ways families can and cannot say I love you—the quiet things that are done in place of a more direct expression of it. The way that while unspoken consideration can speak volumes, it can just as easily be invisible. But even now, writing this post, I feel like it's difficult for me to untangle the feelings and experiences I've had into something that feels sufficiently multifaceted.

Vincent has a different childhood from I do (it is probably worth noting that I do not project onto any of my characters, nor do I use them as a vessel to get my own experiences across). I think I'm just drawn to writing tricky/non-straightforward expressions of love, in general :) Sometimes that is the kind of love that resonates with me most.

[amethystina]

For the wipe tag game:

May I inquire about :

The devil's due ( I have been hooked since the first chapter that u posted. It's such an interesting idea with so many possibilities)

The gentle light ( will we get more of yohan's poverty?)

Thank u, and have a nice day 🩵

Thank you so much for the ask!

The Devil's Due

Oh man, this one. I am hooked on this one too, but I keep holding it off because I know it'll be pretty long and it's also going to be pretty, uh, sexually charged? And that intimidates me x'D

But yeah, I LOVE the idea and the possibilities it offers. It's a story that would focus on Ga On and Yo Han's relationship without the power imbalance of them being chief and subordinate. That's to say that Ga On is going to be even feistier than in canon, if you can believe that. And he's going to be more aware of his sexuality and what he actually wants — or who, I guess I should say.

The main plot would really just be Ga On getting to know Yo Han — and Elijah — during different circumstances. And the biggest conflict will be the fire and whether or not Yo Han caused it, plus Yo Han trying to open Ga On's eyes to the corruption in their country. The main portion of the fic would be set a couple of years after the first chapter, and a couple of years before the start of the drama. So they're all a little less jaded and, since the situation is so different — Ga On isn't sent to spy on him, for one — Yo Han won't be as defensive. But he's obviously also going to be, well, Yo Han. He's working as a normal judge, trying not to draw too much attention to himself — biding his time for his revenge, and all that — but he would definitely not mind having some fun with the bright-eyed, reformed delinquent he saved from a life as a criminal.

As a treat.

As with many of my WIPs at the moment, this fic is mostly just a collection of lines of dialogue from various scenes, with no connecting text around them. So there are no complete snippets I can show, but I can say that the first time they do something sexual together it's because Ga On has finally had it with Yo Han's teasing and flirting and just marches into his office — at Yo Han's work, yes — and goes:

Ga On: "Fine. Let's fuck."

Yo Han, after a small pause: "Right now?"

Ga On, very scathingly: "Do you want me to schedule an appointment?"

Yo Han: "You're an absolute delight when you're angry."

There are reasons why Ga On is being so blunt, I want to point out, because he wouldn't usually be. Again: Yo Han and his manipulation tactics.

... and yes, they do have sex right then and there, in Yo Han's office. Which is one of the reasons why I'm afraid to write this. I'm way out of my depth here x'D

But I will continue eventually! I like the story way too much to give up on it :)

The Gentle Light

As for this one, I was kind of shocked to realise that I have a lot more written on chapter 2 than I initially thought. It takes place right after the first chapter, so basically Yo Han's side of the very loaded conversation that takes place during chapter 7. I've just been adding bits and pieces here and there when I've felt like it and now I have almost 4 000 words. Imagine that.

Here's a snippet!

---

Yo Han slowly walked up the steps leading to Kim Ga On's apartment, his hand sliding along the railing. The metal was cold against the mess of scar tissue on his palm, sending a chill up his arm. Yo Han paid that no mind, focusing instead on taking in his surroundings. While he'd known Ga On's address ever since K did the first background check, Yo Han had never actually been to visit before.

There had never been a reason for him to — until now.

As Yo Han finished climbing the first set of stairs, his gaze swept briefly over the terrace to his left, then flicked upward, toward the rooftop. There was apparently another terrace up there, but it was dark for the time being and therefore not of much interest to Yo Han.

Instead, he turned and looked out at the surrounding buildings. The neighborhood was as run-down as he'd expected, debris littering the streets and the majority of the buildings in desperate need of repairs — some even looked abandoned. Or perhaps the owners had simply given up, choosing to huddle inside the dark, decrepit shells of what used to be their homes, waiting for the end to come. That seemed common in these parts, where unemployment and hopelessness blanketed every house and street corner, sucking the life out of those few remaining.

Yo Han could tell it hadn't always been that way, though. There were glimpses of a once lively neighborhood hiding underneath the grime and despair, the descent probably having happened slowly over time as the economy kept getting worse and worse — money getting tighter and tighter. And, eventually, whether they wanted to or not, the people had no choice but to give in.

It made sense, Yo Han supposed, for Kim Ga On to have grown up in a place like this, where he'd had to watch what he once knew wither away and fall into disrepair in front of his very eyes.

That deeply rooted disdain for the rich must have come from somewhere, after all.

---

A lot of what I have so far is basically just Yo Han sauntering around in front of Ga On's apartment, observing things and drawing conclusions about Ga On. It's kind of adorable in it's own way xD But things obviously take a very dramatic turn once Ga On shows up, some of which I've shown before in snippets that you can find here.

I can't promise I'll ever post this, though, since I'd obviously have to finish it first and this is very far down on my list of priorities right now. But we'll see, I guess? If I keep chipping away at it one piece at a time, eventually it will be finished.

I hope you like it! And you have a nice day, too 💜

WIP Tag Game

[whumpbug]

okay okay okay so I held back on this one because I asked alternate already BUT. can you put Gene and Cassidy in a sci-fi story. what would they wear what are their roles do you have scene snippets or dialog? sci-fi is my favorite thing ever and as always feel free to ignore if this isn't the vibe!!! i love you bug /p!!!!!

OHOHOHOHOHHOH SETH I LOVE U /P

i am all for a sci-fi vibe. even if star wars is TECHNICALLY a space opera, i love love love the space setting and i would be DELIGHTED to talk about it.

im gonna word vomit on the page first and them ill try my hand at a few drabbles in this au. strap in for ANOTHER very long post. THANK U AGAIN SETH I LOVE UR ASKS I TRULY CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF THEM /GEN

okay so. since i'm only really well-versed in star wars sci-fi concepts, this is going to be a vaguely star wars inspired au but i'll try to phrase it in a way thats more applicable to sci-fi in General (its always so fun to translate their jobs and personalities into different settings)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

we'll start with gene. idk why but i'm getting very much a bounty hunter vibe from him. like someone who maybe works for a larger organization or guild hunting down notorious criminals (i mention that he works for an Entity bc i think its sort of important that he doesnt choose his bounties himself. he gets them assigned)

i think he would still do it out of a sense of responsibility because he doesn't think bad people should just be running around like that, but also because. a man's gotta make a living. he's gotta pay the bills.

i can see him having his own little ship that he practically lives out of considering how much he travels, and i feel like he'd get very attached to his ship (much like calliope. sorry calliope you've become a spaceship in this au)

OMG AND ALSO A THOUGHT IS BEING BEAMED INTO MY HEAD.

he wears a mask. you can't see his face when he's out doing jobs. he conceals his face, partially because he doesn't want people to see when hes scared or smug or anything like that and partially for the Swag.

that brings me to his overall outfit. i believe in my heart of hearts that gene would wear something like this (i wish i could credit the artist but i couldnt find it)

except instead of an entire helmet, it would be more of just a black piece of cloth pulled loosely over his mouth and nose. and im also seeing him in a very wide brimmed hat that he can tilt down to Brood pls tell me you guys see the vision.

he'd have a little revolver-looking blaster and knowing him, it'd be set to stun. i don't think he really enjoys bringing people in cold, and does his best to avoid it when he can

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

OK now onto cassidy. my beautiful darling boy silver. my sweetiepie.

it was kind of difficult to translate his profession into this setting because. it involves more people other than him.

ultimately i decided that, similar to the modern au, he is a part of an underground business, kind of like a rebellion of sorts, that fight against the injustices of the galaxy robin-hood style. of course, montana is the leader (unfortunately) and cassidy is essentially his right hand man

i can see cassidy traveling planet to planet, dismantling corrupt governments, providing for the needy, and having an absolute blast doing it, but his methods are. very illegal. and there is a growing bounty on his head.

nearly every major government wants specifically him locked away for life because of the destruction he's caused, and of course they hire the very best bounty hunter around to track him down.

and of course cassidy is a slippery fellow

cue their little cat and mouse thing they've got going on. gene wants to catch him because if he does, he'd practically be set for life. cassidy runs away because, well. he has a job to do. he can't get caught, especially by the weirdly attractive masked dude that talks to his spaceship.

and lastly, here is what i think cassidy's fit would vaguely look like:

he loves ponchos he can't help it. they're too comfy.

he too would have a little revolver-blaster thing and of course, his knife and hat. one thing that it different is the stolen jewelry. i decided that instead of stealing jewelry from the awful people, he takes mechanical/droid parts for his little buddy that he keeps around named SC-071-1 (haha. ahaha get it. please tell me someone gets it.)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

OK ONTO THE DRABBLES AND SNIPPETS! you get 3 because im feeling Generous /pos. here in the first little snippet for you. this is the two meeting in a bar and not wanting to make a scene (gene tracked him there) (i just wanted to write a silly tense scene)

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Cassidy heard Gene before he saw him.

The man was always stomping around in a way no one could quite replicate. His footsteps were deliberate, cold, and unmistakable.

And they were right behind him.

The business end of a blaster was suddenly pressed into Cassidy's ribs and his mouth went dry.

"I'll have a Jet Juice. On the rocks."

Gene tossed the bartender a coin, to which he grumbled indignantly and began on the drink.

Cassidy risked a sideways glance at the bounty hunter. His expression was unreadable and hidden as always, and he didn't even turn to look at Cassidy. Instead, Gene leaned close and spoke lowly into his ear.

"Make a scene and you're dead. Try to run and you're dead. Turn on your comm and you're dead. Am I clear?"

Cassidy smirked, and mocked a salute. "Loud 'n clear, sir."

Gene gave a curt nod and turned to the bar. The bartender slid him his drink, which he downed in one go, and he was just about to order another when--

He sputtered when he felt something pressed into a certain.. important area. He blanched.

"Didn't say anything about fightin' fire with fire, did you, cowboy?" Cassidy grinned. The sight of the big bad bounty hunter squirming because his family jewels were threatened never got old.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

DRABBLE 2 HERE WE GO. this one is gene finding cassidy after a mission gone sour. cassidy was effectively abandoned by montana with the promise that he would come back for him.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The whole mission was a bust from the beginning.

Cassidy should have known. He had a gut feeling-- that it was some sort of trap specifically designed for the organization. When he brought it up to Montana, he said that it was just Cassidy being paranoid. And, of course, he believed him. He always did

And now, there he was, beaten within an inch of his life and left to the elements by the government higher-ups.

They really didn't like people messing with their system.

Cassidy took a labored breath for what felt like the millionth time. Each time it was getting harder. His arms were pinned awkwardly above his head and to fill his lungs, he had to pull himself up. It quickly became exhausting.

The worst part was the cold. Montana had mentioned that this planet's average temperature was a little below what Cassidy was used to, but he didn't mention that the city they were infiltrating was located near the northern pole of the planet.

It was freezing.

Cassidy had long since stopped shivering.

He let his head loll forward. He wasn't sure he had the strength to wait for Montana anymore. He wasn't sure he had the strength for anything anymore. Even keeping his eyes open seemed a monumental task.

So, he let them fall shut.

••••

When he woke up, it was because he registered his center of gravity tilting on it's axis.

There was a body pressed against his. And it was warm.

If he had any remaining strength, he would have clung to his rescuer like there was no tomorrow. Instead, he settled for letting his head fall against the person's chest as he let out a pitiful whine.

A hand chafed up and down his shoulder. "Just relax. We'll get you warm. Don't you dare try to run off, Silver."

He wouldn't dream of it. Not when he could feel himself melting to putty in the arms of this stranger.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

LAST DRABBLE it's gene's turn. in this au he has spasthma (space asthma) and sometimes it hinders his job in Not good ways. and cassidy isn't heartless.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Cassidy really wasn't thinking when he threw the smoke bomb. All he knew was that the damned bounty hunter was catching up and he needed to throw him off.

He did not expect him to fall to his knees with a guttural coughing fit.

It would have been so easy to leave him there to rot, to hop in his ship and escape without looking back.

But when did Cassidy ever take the easy way out?

"Shit," He hissed, darting back to where Gene was kneeled with a palm supporting him on the ground.

He was clutching at his chest, choked gasps leaving him intermittently. His eyes looked vaguely panicked.

"C-Can't--" He wheezed, getting cut off by another coughing fit. He looked as if he was about to topple over.

Cassidy caught him by the arm and dragged him away from the busy street. He propped him up against an wall tucked into an alleyway and began rummaging around in his bag.

One of the younger kids with the Montana's crew had the same condition with all the same symptoms Gene was having right now. The kid was pretty forgetful, and Cassidy always made sure he had an extra rebreather on him. Just in case.

Gene was going to owe him big time.

His fingers finally grazed what he was looking for and he yanked it out, fumbling to get it open. He shook the small canister and pressed it to Gene's lips.

"You have to puff. Just try, okay? Just a little." Cassidy grabbed Gene's hand and placed it on his chest, exaggerating his own breathing to show him what to strive for.

Gene hiccuped slightly before taking a flimsy inhale. He breathed out and tried at it again, and found it gradually got easier.

When he could finally take a deep breath, he collapsed against the wall, panting. His hand didn't leave Cassidy's chest.

"Thank-- thank you," He whispered.

Cassidy smiled.

"Does this mean I get a headstart now?"

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

SETH thank you SO VERY MUCH for this ask and this au. i think i may like it more than their original au GOD i love them so so so much FHDJKFH. thank u for the requests and as always PLS dont be afraif to send more if the mood striked you but no pressure ofc! /gen

hope you enjoy my rambling bc this post was LONGGGGG

[missfckingfortune]

Thank you @shadowisles-writes and @temperedink for tagging me!

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I am not the best at multitasking so I don't have much upcoming, other than attempting to finish my first ACOTAR fic, I Can Wait For You At The Bottom- but word docs have been created for the following AUs.

Bad Medicine NESSIAN- Modern A/U in a hospital setting That stupidly huge orthopedic surgeon, Cassian Knight, can never send one prescription correctly. Copious amounts of protein powder and huffing bone cement seem to have rotted his brain, or more likely, he never had one in the first place. All that stands between his patients and kidney failure from NSAID overdose is one overworked pharmacist, and Nesta Archeron is tired of babysitting

Natural Anchor ELUCIEN- Modern A/U in Southwestern USA adventure/survival setting. She should have known he would be at this particular rock formation. She seems to run into him all over their small desert town. It's hard to miss him, with that big smirk, the smattering of well-placed freckles, and hair redder than the Utah sandstone. He's a bit of a local celebrity for his daredevil canyoneering and solo climbing. But Elain Archeron is not interested in being his next adventure and she certainly doesn't want Lucien Vanserra dangling above her all day while she attempts to complete her research for her ethnobotany degree. But twelve hours later, a snapped rope, a broken ankle, and a flash flood force cooperation and forced proximity for the sake of survival.

I Can Wait for You at The Bottom ELUCEIN- Modern AU, Exes, small-town setting, featuring rockstar Lucien and florist Elain. Current longest WIP posted on AO3. Lucien faltered under her caustic glare like a coward. He could not fully own up to what he felt, what he never stopped feeling, even for a single second. “I still care for you, Elain.” “Weird,” She mused, tracing her elegant fingers around the rim of the tequila bottle. “Because in a lot of those songs, you make me sound like the villain."

Twenty-five ( to life) Not ACOTAR fic, but is a WIP. Masters of the Air fandom. Posted to A03. "You complete your twenty-five missions, Major Egan, and I’ll marry you.”

She certainly doesn't expect him to survive. But she also certainly didn't expect to fall in love.

Pretty sure I'm likely one of the last folks to get on this train, so I've you've already been tagged, just smile and ignore me :) @clockwork-ashes @climbthemountain2020 @crazy-ache @wilde-knight @areyoudreaminof @separatist-apologist @the-lonelybarricade

[bonezone44]

WIP Wednesday

I have been tagged by several of my peoples. 🙏 Thank you, @toxicanonymity , @perotovar , and @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Step one: post snippets of the fics you're working on (can be a summary if there's no snippet) Step two:put them in a poll and let people vote on which one you should work on

I don't mean to brag but... there's some good shit after the cut 😅😅😅

Untitled -- Uncle!Ezra x Fem!Reader x Daddy!Joel 😘

Joel bites his bottom lip. His brows furrow deep. “Fuck, that feels good.” He pushes it as deep as it can go, resting it there a moment and pulling it back out. It's almost like he's trying to see how well you can soak his finger. He pushes in two fingers next, slowly sliding them in and out. “That feel good to you, baby girl?” He asks. You nod, clenching around his digits. “Yes, sir.” He smirks. “Yeah, I thought so.” He looks down at his thick fingers moving back and forth. “She's gonna be a mess by the end o’ this.” “Good.” Ezra chuckles. “I like seeing my precious little niece get all filthy.” He licks his lips and leans down to lick into your mouth.

Stowaway -- Ezra x Fem!Reader 😈

Now, the Green was also occupied by abandoned vehicles and tents. It was common to find old dig sites beneath sprawling ferns and twisting vines. Most people set up flags or beacons to indicate that a certain span of ground was claimed and off-limits. Protected. You respected those boundaries, of course. You weren’t looking to cause any trouble.  And this particular vehicle was much like the others you had seen. It was coated in a thick layer of red dust, turning its blue outer shell purple. A black rust bordered the metal casings that paneled the exterior of its hull. The landing gear looked as if it was being sucked into the ground by verdant, creeping flora.  And there was nothing else around it. No flags or beacons. No tents or harvesting gear. You hadn’t seen anyone for hours, actually.  So why not tug on a few of the door handles and see what mysteries lay inside? What was the worst that could happen?

You Have Been Warned -- Joel x Kidnapped!Fem!Reader ⛓

You heard someone clear their throat and you looked back to see Joel’s brother, Tommy, leaning in the doorway with a rifle in his arms.  You turned back to Joel and shrugged. “Yeah, okay.” Joel’s brows furrowed deeper. He leaned forward. “That's it? That’s all you have to say–is ‘Yeah, okay?” You shrugged again. “I mean, yeah. This is about what Larry told me when I started working for him.” Because it was.  Tommy barked out a laugh, and quickly attempted to cover it with a cough as Joel stared daggers at him.Joel tapped the table. He shook his head. “No.”  He tapped his chest. “I… I am not Larry. I am nothing like Larry.”

Muddy Waters -- Ezra x Fem!Reader x Joel 💅

"Joel Miller," Ezra said with perfect clarity. "You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid."

npt: @milla-frenchy @iamasaddie @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog 😘🙏😍

[bomberqueen17]

momentum

last year i kept missing updates and people were so sweet like “you don’t have to post X often! you don’t have to hit a deadline! do what suits your schedule!” and that was lovely and I did appreciate it, but the point of the deadlines was momentum. Now I have fallen down so thoroughly on posting ever at all, zero routine left, no concept of it even, that I have no momentum and my brain is like clearly no one cares about this so give up, and that sucks, and i’m exhausted and cranky and useless and shitty but by god i am not abandoning my like fifty WIPs that i care deeply about i swear and so anyway i am trying to force the engine to turn over, as hard as I can, i swear other people were excited about this and i can use that to get myself excited about it again, i can do this

so please help me get excited about literally anything, i am in despair.

SNIPPETS of THINGS i am TRYING TO MAKE HAPPEN:

direct prequel to Fit For Pearls:

“Did he ask you to tell me about the meeting?” Ciri asked, eyeing him.

“He did not directly ask,” Voorhis said stiffly, “but he knows I intended to ensure you had the opportunity to attend such meetings. Had he not wanted me to tell you, he would have needed to order me not to.”

“Is that how it works?” Ciri asked.

“It’s how that works,” Voorhis said, very stiff and formal and not much like his normal self. She wondered what he was trying to convey. Was it displeasure, that this was his task? Was it nervousness, that it was in fact not his actual task and he was perhaps taking advantage of some confusion to play politics?

She hated politics.

She’d chosen politics.

“I thank you,” she said wearily.

next bit of the Peace-Tied series, a tender little Iorveth & Yennefer moment with hair-braiding, very self-indulgent:

By the time they finished writing and elaborately illuminating the placard, Yennefer’s hair was caught back in a series of delicate little braids that then twined around one another, and caught her hair up off her neck. She was also inexplicably near tears at the tenderness of all of it. 

Iorveth knelt up to finish fastening the ends of her hair behind her ear, after having twined the braids up over her head. His body was a long, warm press along her back, his hands warm and big cradling her head. 

She tipped her head back and he held her like that, gentle and reassuring. “How’s that?” he murmured. 

She took a shaky breath, and he smoothed a hand down the side of her face, settling down on his knees to put his arms around her from behind, cradling her back against his shoulder. “There,” he said. “Now your hair looks like someone cares for you.”

“Is that what it means,” she murmured.

“It does,” he said, and pressed a kiss against the side of her head, above the hairline. “Thank you for fixing my face. I wasn’t ready to die, not like that.”

“I am glad that I could,” she said.

and finally this weird modern a/u (tw for self-directed ableist language in dialogue) i’ve been working on slowly forever that is so close to cohering and yet doesn’t quite, in which I think you can guess what Joe’s thusfar unknown real name is:

A hand caught him by the arm, two hands, steadying him, and helped him sit up. Joe was even more frightening up close; Roche had noticed the eyepatch from a distance but his face was heavily-scarred on that side, like somebody had gone at the eye with a knife and missed. Or, like something had hit him very hard in the face, taken the eye, then bounced off his cheekbone and twisted down his face. 

But his hands were strong and he steadied Roche for a long moment, and despite the frightfully leering aspect his damaged face gave him, his expression was actually neutral. “Is anything broken?”

“I got shot,” Roche gritted out, “twice, a year ago, this is as good as it fucking gets. I just landed badly, just now, and it takes me a minute.”

He saw Joe notice the cane. “Ah,” the man said. “I hadn’t realized.” He looked around. “Dogs knocked you over?”

“The saluki is a fucking menace,” Roche said. He couldn’t sit like this, it was agony on his hip. “They’re all fucking menaces.” He couldn’t get up, he couldn’t stay down, he was shivering with the pain.

“Let’s get you to a chair,” Joe said, calm and businesslike. “Where’s the damage? Hip and shoulder?” Roche managed to gesture, and Joe proceeded to mostly lift him unaided, which hurt like a motherfucker, but once he’d dumped Roche, surprisingly gently-- he was very strong-- into the armchair in the corner it was easier to get his various joints at angles that didn’t hurt. “Do you need anything else,” he said, far too neutral and calm. 

“Yeah,” Roche said, savage with agonized frustration, “I need to not be a fucking cripple.”

Joe didn’t answer for a long moment. “While I can relate to that,” he said, “I meant, do you have any medication or anything that would help?”

Gritting his teeth, Roche pointed to the paper bag he’d left on the sideboard, that still had the pill bottle in it. There were still a couple of pills in the old bottle but he wasn’t going to have Joe wander through his house looking for them. 

Joe took the bottle out of the bag. “One or two,” he said. 

“I can-- one,” Roche said, giving up; Joe was already opening the bottle. 

“Can you dry-swallow or do you need water,” Joe said, but he was already moving over to the dish drainer to retrieve a glass. 

“Water,” Roche said, resenting it. Joe put the bottle down and filled the glass, bringing over a pill between his thumb and forefinger, and the filled glass in his other hand. 

Roche took the pill and the glass, inwardly fuming. He could get the lid off a fucking pill bottle, and he hadn’t asked for this. 

“Would an ice pack help or is it past that?” Joe asked, and while his tone was neutral, it grated over Roche’s last nerve. 

“You know,” he said, “I didn’t ask for your fucking pity.”

Joe said nothing, just stood regarding him. After a moment, he bent down, looming uncomfortably close. “I know we don’t know one another, Vernon,” he said quietly, “but I want you to look me in the eye for a moment, and then tell me that you think I don’t know what it’s like to have to adjust to a new way of living after a bad injury.” *

Roche’s anger flattened out abruptly, staring into his neighbor’s mangled face. The remaining eye was green, astonishingly green against the medium-brown of the man’s complexion. “Uh,” was all he managed; he didn’t have an answer for that.

“I understand that you’re in pain,” Joe went on quietly, straightening up and smoothing his hand down the front of his battered jacket, “and I can extend you a little grace based on that, but I want you to realize what you’re doing.” He glared down at Roche. “One last time, is there anything else you need, or are you all right on your own from here?”

Face burning, Roche managed to grit out, “I’m all right on my own from here.”

Joe stared at him for a long moment, and then turned and left, closing the door carefully and quietly behind himself. 

The canine energy surged through the kitchen again in the wake of his departure, but then Strega came over and put her head in Roche’s lap, and he fondled the silky curls of her ears and said, “Awesome work, guys, we’re doing great!”

*yes this is the Look Deep Into My Eyes Ernie meme, i could not resist

[daiziesssart]

So, remember when I (hypothetically) asked about writing a fic based on one of your Lily Evans fanart?

Well, it’s going great but fair warning, I may have added a bit of angst to the story. Since I’m a fan of angsty fics and it comes naturally to me when writing. However, it ends on a good note (it was supposed to be a drabble 2k words but now it’s roughly 7k words 🫢) because Lily deserves happiness, she’s just so amazing.

I will say that the fic is based on James’s pov. I actually wrote two drafts but ended going in this route with James. Not sure if that ever happens to you when drawing? It happens to me every time, by second draft is the one that ends up being shared.

Anyways, just wanted to let you know that it’s almost finished and I hope you know how much I love and appreciate that you share your artwork with us. It’s such a pleasure seeing your artwork and the amazing details/emotions you put into it. You always leave me speechless and it’s difficult to express my gratitude, because I feel like a broken record at times.

Thank you, your drawings always brighten my day.

Also, funny thing happened when you posted a nsfw Jily art (the text message one) I was at work and my phone wanted to get me in trouble with my supervisor! Literally I have my brightness low, but it kept getting brighter each second. Like it was saying, “ you can’t dim the light between young love”

No matter how many times I tried to dim the brightness it was no use. My supervisor was walking up to me and I’m here struggling to exit out of tumblr and my phone freezes! Lily’s entire “personality” was on display on my screen and I couldn’t exit out!

Luckily I managed to power off my phone before my supervisor got close, 😰 my face was literally this emoji 😳 haha, it was so awkward but it’s funny thinking about that.

I wanted to share a little snippet (unedited):

The smile that she was sending his way, felt better than trying out for the Quidditch team for the very first time. Even better than using the map to sneak out for a quick fly around the Quidditch pitch. Her smile, has the power to illuminate even the darkest of corners of the corridor. James wanted nothing but to be able to keep that smile on her delicate face forever.

That’s a little moment of longing, I would share the angsty part but I want to keep that until I post it.

I hope you have a great day, if not I hope things get better!

❤️

OMG AHHHHH 

don’t worry i love angst with a happy ending!!!! SHE DOES SHE’S THE BEST GIRL IN THE WHOLE WORLD…. omg i am SO excited to read it u have no idea

i also love a good james pov <333

AWWHFEJSH STOPPPP I’LL CRY…… this is so sweet and messages like this really do keep me drawing. it’s not even the general engagement factor of posting, but like. when i see all of the content everyone else makes, it genuinely is so fun for me. there’ve been so many times where i’ve read a fic or saw some fanart that made me SO giddy that i had to share it with everyone in my immediate circle just to scream about it. so just the thought of me possibly being able to make other people feel that way, even if it’s just one person, is genuinely the main reason i love creating and posting art. and messages like this mean more to me than u will ever know! so thank YOU!!!

EWJNRJEWFNE OHHH NOOOOOO OMG just imagining being in ur position… my face would be on fire for the next five hours i am SO SORRY HJESFHBJSD

I LOVE THE SNIPPET AND I LOVE THIS MESSAGE AND I LOVE YOU THANK YOU!!!! MWAH YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL

[iiusia]

Your little story snippet got me curious, so if you don’t mind me asking: who are Mariam and Olivia? :0 I’m so so intrigued!!

!!!!!!! you dont know how much this means 2 me i am always thinking about these guys forever and ever....

okay SO. mariam and olivia (and eli, though he appears only a bit in the snippet) r my silly little ocs (that are MAYBE adapted from a dsmp fic. shhhhhhhh they are so much more 2 me now).

mariam and eli are brother and sister and olivia is like... a really close childhood friend, pretty much a sister at this point. their story as I've developped it in my mind so far is: (under read more cause this got LONG)

they live in the same small-ish town and olivia is over at their house a LOT... like pretty much living with them, bc [nebulous part of the story that i have yet to develop but that basically keeps her dad away a lot]

at some point though that [nebulous event] comes to an end and olivia starts seeing them less and less bc frankly. her dad is not a Good Man (and all the implications that come with that)

the snippet i posted happens a few years later when olivia shows up at their door bc its the place she feels the safest in, yk?

they sort some legal stuff out, olivia starts living with them For Real

and THEN there's a whole arc that happens when she leaves 2 go to uni but thats whole other story LMAO

but yeah that's the basic idea!! now for characterization olivia is the Definition of repression. she LOVES repression its her favourite hobby... she's the type that can talk a lot and make you feel like she's not able to keep a secret until you realize that 4 all she talks she doesn't really Say Anything About Herself. she's also the type that convinces herself that since she Understands, objectively, what she's gone through and that it was wrong, she doesn't have to actually deal with it bc like. it happened. it was bad. she got out. what's more to say? surely this will have no impact on her psyche [VERY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER]. (a huge part of the story after she gets to uni is about how she's terrified of people thinking that what happened was her fault to the point of distancing herself from everyone who knows about it)

mariam.... mariam is so special 2 me always... she's the oldest, the "adult" and she cares about these kids SO MUCH... it's maybe not obvious outwardly bc she's not really the demonstrative kind but she shows it in her own way. her instinct is always to be very.... business-like with it? not quite the word but basically she does her gestures quietly and without fanfare and then you find out about it like 3 weeks later and you're like oh...... she really does care a lot. but also worth mentionning she is more mature so she does know that people have different needs when it comes to knowing that they're loved so with eli she does make an effort to be more Obvious with it. she's also SO scared all the time... she's terrified that something will happen to them always but she doesn't show it because she doesn't want to freak them out :(

eli.. i know you didn't ask about him but i still will answer because hes just so perfect 2 me... he's the youngest (in the snippet i would say he's 13? maybe? haven't figured out timeline yet). he feels everything so strongly all the time he is FULL of emotions. him and olivia understand each other in a way where they dont really talk about it ever because they don't Need to (or so they think. ahem). he's also a mischevious little guy.. loves exploring and disappearing for hours at a time and almost giving mariam a heart attack. he loves so strongly it physically hurts sometimes ... my little guy :(

anyways heres another snippet for u..... in thanks

[shukakumoodboard]

6, 8, & 11 for the fanfic asks :3

oho. anonymous georg enables me again. i love u

6. Which yet-to-be-started fic is first on your list?

my gawd. the hardest fuckign question tbh. part of me wants to say the enemies-to-lovers kamakura period japan longfic i've tentatively titled bushidō, but that still requires a lot of plotting and like. kelbrain, before i can even begin writing it sdklghdlkf. i want to give it my full creative power and, considering my fanfic capacities pre- and during- my current degree, i think i might actually try to turn my attention to my two collab fics! shan't say the authors rn, but i don't think they'll be a surprise to those who know me when they're finally done and posted lol

8. Is there a story idea in your mental vault that you’ve never been brave enough to try writing? Is this the year? Can you tell us about it?

i mean i could also say bushidō but that's a sellout because i just discussed that in the last question so i shall also say i should like to try my hand at my sole gaaleesbians wip, thread of deepest scarlet, heart of shining pearl, which is, as you may guess from the title references, is a salem witch trial puritans au. behold:

Gaara’s crimson red lips sang poisonous, blasphemous hymns, and she wanted nothing else. “I can,” she breathed. “I would show you, in all your loveliness, such wonders, if you wish it.” For if Gaara was the serpent in the Garden, she was Eve, and in that parable, it was she doomed to succumb to temptation; her weakness preordained, this was her Apple and the ways of wickedness were already within her, and so. “Please.” And so, she let Gaara consume her.

#cant write smut ive got catholic guilt anyway, i've never written Da Lebbiesiasnsns, and i've never written historical fiction, so we shall see if i am All Powerful or not

11. Would you like to try any new fanfic genres or tropes this year?

help all of these questions are related. i want to try historical fiction as seen in the previous answers! most of the other things i have on the brain are things i've at least dipped my toes in.

thank you so much for asking <3

quite literally offering u free snippets for the right questions yall

[inabottlelikelightning]

you are probably so tired of getting asks about yofoe after literal YEARS LOL so i’m so sorry in advance and feel free to ignore if you don’t feel like answering!! I remember you posting a couple snippets of the next chapter about a year ago and was just wondering if you’d be willing to share anything more you have? or if you plan to share it on your own terms? totally fine if not! (also if you’re wondering yes I am the same person who asked back in 2021 and yes I still have yofoe at the top of my bookmarks and reread from time to time just to see how she’s doing because she was a true moment in time for me)

U ARE SO SWEET please do not apologize i am sure it’s every writers dream to be getting lovely asks like this after years ❤️ thank you so much! u know what, i was saving this for a special occasion (the year 2030 when i finally finish this story oopsies) but just for you, because this warmed my heart so much, here u go (mwah):

——

"Good God," Argent mutters. And then, to the hunter fighting him: "If you shoot me in the head right now, you may be entitled to financial compensation."

He seems genuinely disappointed when the man is taken down by one of Kira's electricity strikes.

And then, out of the corner of Liam's eye, a stray bullet. Liam maps out the trajectory, is moving before he even registers it, springing off his back legs, hands going straight for Theo's shoulders, bowling them both over, the only sound exiting his mouth a horrible, strangled yell.

They hit the concrete floor with a thud, and Liam feels the bullet whiz past his head, barely missing them.

"The fuck?" Theo asks, and Liam focuses on him for the first time, all of him, and--

"You're shirtless," Liam blurts. He huffs. "Why are you always shirtless?"

Theo narrows his eyes. "That's why you jumped me?"

Liam realizes, way too late, that he has one hand resting comfortably on each pec. He snatches his hands back, hands burning almost hotter than his face.

"What!?" he splutters. "No! No! No. There was-- you were gonna be-- a bullet!"

"A bullet," Theo repeats, unimpressed.

The fighting spills further into the corridor, Malia having taken possession of Kira's sword while Kira siphons electricity from the building and channels it into blasts. Liam and Theo very nearly avoid being singed, when they catch sight of them.

"Uh," Malia says. "Hey guys."

"'Sup," Theo replies.

Kira clears her throat. "Um," she tries, hands crackling with sparks, "Whatcha doin' there?"

Liam looks down, at Theo's stupidly relaxed shirtless body. He's still straddling him, he realizes.

"This," Liam says, "isn't what it looks like."

Malia's eye twitches. "No one said it looked like anything."

Liam groans. "Okay, but your tone--"

[peachdues]

for the fanfic ask game:

1. my favorite fic of yours is probably phantasmagoria (with sanemi’s “bundle of joy” and rengoku’s “tell me to stop” being very close second and third places). i loved the complexity of the characters, the unreliable narration, how there was no “black and white” so to speak, everyone in the story in some way or another wasn’t completely good or completely horrible (except d*uma ofc), everyone fucked up somewhat along the way (some more than others lmao); however i am also super excited as well for the great war and vow between man and star, and ofc the completion of netherwood lolol, and have no doubt you’ll crush those fics too!!

3. best character you’ve written for: honestly, i’m just gonna straight up say i love how you write ALL your characters. however (and i’ve talked about this to you before) i have never loved how someone writes kyojuro more than how you write him. i am not the biggest kyo girlie (gasp i know) BUT the way you write him??? god i’d marry your version of kyo in an instant. you make him so much more than just the over-enthusiastic characteristics that he possesses, and i love that about your writing of him.

of course, i loveeee how you write sanemi and giyuu as well (your sanemi is what turned me from thinking “oh this guy is kinda cute” to being a victim of sanemi brainrot), and ofc your characterization of giyuu is so on-point and ugh (can you tell that i love your writing LOL)

8. what i like the most about your writing: it’s so difficult to pick just a single thing lmao (i love your descriptions, your dialogue, your storytelling/plot delivery, everything really) but i think what i like most is your creativity. you think of the most interesting premises (take vow between man and star, i still don’t know how you thought up the storyline for that, and yet it’s one of my favorite premises that i’ve seen come out of that beautiful brain of yours; same with phantasmagoria, i loved how you wrote the story and the dynamics between characters and how you took into consideration how certain plot points would cause internal changes within the reader and sanemi, the foreshadowing, the narration, everything really.) your creativity is astounding to me, and i love every single idea you think up and share with us<3

9. fics i’m excited for you updating/posting include the great war, man and star, coalescence, and ofc netherwood lolol. i love the concepts behind each one (and have loved the snippets you’ve sent me in our dms hehehe).

10. i know this is gonna sound crazy but u made me love sanekana so much more with your mirror, mirror snippets! i love those two so much haha

13. lolol i have definitely talked about how amazing your writing is with my other moots. we will be talking about fanfic and i swear i’ll say smth where i bring you up and how amazing your writing is and then will proceed to discuss details about it if the other person has also read whatever fic i’ve decided to bring up/just talk about your writing in general and how beautiful it is

14. a fanfic i didn’t think i’d like as much as i did was again, phantasmagoria. i think at first the idea of it being so centered around drug use was a lil bit of a turn off for me at first, BUT i’m so glad i read it because the way you incorporated those sensitive topics into your fic was incredible, and, with the reasons i mentioned above, is my favorite fic of yours (and is one of the few fics that have ever made me actually cry, and i’ve been around tumblr and ao3 for a while LMAO) so i’m glad i decided to read it because again i think you nailed the entire fic and, as angsty as it is, i still truly enjoyed reading it<3

(this is from an ask game and I’m so sorry I’m not answering until now)

DONT KNOW WHY THIS WENT TO MY DRAFTS GHOST BBY IM SO SORRY

I just —-

I love you. So much.

I like, genuinely don’t know how to respond to this (and I’ve REALLY tried), but I’m just so grateful for you. Thank for for letting me spam your DMs with random snippets and giving me feedback, and thank you for helping me aboard the Levi and Nanami trains.

I’ll get back to the Giyuu fics after Netherwood is done, so be prepared for me to spam you even more 😭 thank you for being such a wonderful, amazing moot and I absolutely fucking adore your writing??? Our mutual Sanemi brain rot gives me life

[actual-bill-potts]

hi! i just wanted to drop by and say, i think your last prompt fic rewired the chemistry in my brain. i've been rotating that interaction between finarfin and olwe in my mind for hours now. that's probably the best take i saw on them & and on why finarfin didn't return immediately after the first kinslaying. that was amazing and your writing is wonderful

also i'm in love with your "and all our towers cast down" fic, with your portrayal of finrod and his trauma, it's honestly fascinating

hope you're having a good day/night <3

omg tysm for this incredibly kind message!!!! it literally made my entire day. tbh i didn't expect much of a response to that ficlet bc it was such a struggle to write - Aegnor and Angrod are not characters I think about often and Alqualondë is so odd narratively to me bc it feels like it should be a major turning point for everyone but it kind of...isn't? So this was my best attempt at making it make sense in my own mind. I need to write a full meta post on the subject soon haha to put my thoughts in order. I'm so glad you liked it!! Though I don't really write about them much, Olwë and Finarfin are such interesting characters to me so I'm glad they came through properly.

And thank u so so much!! i have absolutely adored writing towers, it's so much fun to explore the character dynamics and really dive into leithian and make everyone's choices make more sense in my own brain. in my mind finrod's death is really what sealed the doom of nirnaeth, cuz politically fingon lost so much with finrod. so i am really looking forward to exploring the ramifications of his survival and how the events of tol-in-gaurhoth affected him. i really see his role in leithian as him finally snapping and being like I'm going to help this person I love no matter the cost. I've always headcanoned that a big part of the reason he went to middle earth was to support both the nolofinwions and his own people who loved feanor. and in middle-earth he's had to make the hard pragmatic choice so many times, between splitting from turgon pretty much forever, letting his brothers go to the front lines, sending balan's people to the front lines, constantly smoothing things over between the Fëanorions, the nolofinwions, the doriathrim, the bëorians, and the laiquendi, and at the point of leithian he's just seen so much of that work burst into flames around him and he basically pulls a fingolfin. he's like fuck what happens to me, fuck what happens to my kingdom: thingol is insane, two of my brothers are dead, pretty much all of balan's people that i worked so hard to help are dead except this one guy who is determined to go on a suicide mission. so im gonna help balan's descendant and no one can stop me.

But now he's survived and he's going to have to reckon with...all of that...with fingon who just lost his father to a similar impulse, and with orodreth, and with himself. and of course sauron's mind games didn't help him any. so he's in a pretty bad headspace right now and is going to have to deal with a lot of the losses he's just been shoving away and not looking at up until now.

Anyway sorry for the ramble! I'm just very passionate abt this project lol.

Also, I know you like Finarfin, and this ask made literally my whole entire day, so here's a Finarfin+Finrod snippet for you! I hope you enjoy <3

That morning, Arafinwë's eldest son does not so much walk into the dining room as swim. He is encased in layers upon layers of swishing fabric that billow before and after him, making it necessary to sway carefully to avoid tripping; his hair, loosed and straightened, falls nearly to his feet, and keeps tangling about his knees; and he looks inordinately proud of himself.

Arafinwë glances at Eärwen in bewilderment, wondering if wardrobe-related madness is a symptom among the Returned that he has forgotten about. She looks just as confused as he feels, if significantly more amused.

"Good morning, Finrod!" he says aloud. "Er - is there a special occasion?"

Finrod moves carefully to his chair, then sweeps his massive skirts behind him, swiftly moves the chair out, and sinks into it with a whoosh. He looks up cheerfully.

"Good morning, Atya, Ammë!" he says, beaming. "No special occasion - this is cultural. It is the latest in Vanyarin fashion!"

"Is it?" Arafinwë asks weakly. "It seems - difficult to move in."

"Oh, yes," Finrod responds, grinning even wider. The effect, in conjunction with the sparkling, billowing skirts and tangled hair, is nearly blinding. "That's the point, you see! It is intended to emulate the care with which the Valar must move, encased in the forms they take to walk among us. I thought the idea was fascinating. And the fabrics they use are so beautiful!"

"Ah - that is indeed interesting," Arafinwë responds, wondering who among his mother's people he will have to take aside later for a quick word on not telling Finrod about Vanyar fads. "Surely it is not intended to go out in...?"

"Oh, but of course it is!" Finrod says. "I plan to go out to market as soon as we are done breakfasting, to experience the full effect. Would you like to come? It could be quite interesting."

"Alas, your mother and I must hold court soon after breakfast, and cannot join," Arafinwë says without much regret.

"You must tell us about the experience, though!" Eärwen chimes in, sounding as if she is suppressing laughter.

"Ah, very well," Finrod says cheerfully; and after he has breakfasted he does indeed rise carefully - barely snatching his garment away from the remnants of jelly on his plate before it can be stained - and swim out of the room.

Eärwen and Arafinwë look at each other and burst into laughter.

"The skirts!" Eärwen gasps, "The folds! It will take him an hour to exit the palace!"

"Oh dear," Arafinwë says at last, wiping his eyes. "Oh dear. Was he like this before?"

"He was!" Eärwen exclaims. "Do you remember, he used to creep into your father's closet and try on his best robes? Then he would swan about the halls, trying not to trip."

"I had forgotten," Arafinwë admits, a smile curving his lips, "but you are quite right. He always did love beautiful clothing. I only hope that his pursuit of high Vanyarin fashion will not send him home with a broken collarbone."

"It is so good to have our son home," Eärwen says abruptly. "Our children gave me such joy. I had nearly forgotten."

Arafinwë reaches across the table to take her hand. "It is," he agrees. The image of Finrod leaving the room, having to angle his hips to fit through the door and bundling his hair about himself so as not to trip, floats across his mind and he chuckles again. "Do you remember when bustles were all the rage, and Artanis got caught on a turn of the stairway? She was furious."

Eärwen's laughter is a welcome peal, more light of heart than he had heard in years. "As I recall, it was Finrod who convinced her of their merits in the first place."

"She did not take his advice on fashion again, after that!" Arafinwë agrees. He cannot stop smiling as he begins to gather up the breakfast things and neaten his own robes. It feels as if his heart is singing within him: Our son is home. He is home. He is home!

[merakiui]

AAAAAAHH THE SCARA FIC!!! it was so good!! the part where he's mean to us for attempting to receive help from teyvatcord rather than the internet ( ; ω ; ) and the fact u call it teyvatcord instead of discord is so cute!! honestly I feel like that small detail made me enjoy it 10x more because I'm a sucker for little canon eastereggs—and!! the harbingers and knights of favonius mention (scaras right, that name is lame!! like, who names their team 'knights of favonius') T_T sobsob <33 scara being mad at his teammates was so adorably funny hehe — that whole little segment was so funny and domestic , him mocking us and the little bickering between us <33 AND!! THE ENDING (＠_＠) don't even get me started orz.. he was surprisingly cute and somewhat nice T_T and his little ego-boost and cocky demeanor after finding out it was our first time!! (>_<) and, and!! him crying at the end aaaaa my heart orz

AND I SEE U ALREADY UPDATED UR LUNAR LOVE HOTEL M-LIST (≧▽≦)!! it's cute how u give us a little snippet and idea of what the next work will be about and who will be featured (excited for the idia piece!!) :3 I'm not really sure what u plan working on next (I think u mentioned dru? :o) but either way I am so excited and ready for anything u post (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ reading ur work always makes me happy; your blog is an addiction for me!! (>_<)

I hope u have a good rest of your weekend and make sure to rest up if you can!! :D u deserve any and all rest u can get after all the effort and work you put into feeding us so well ^_^

AHAHDHWHF (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ I LITERALLY JUST SENT AN ASK IN BUT I FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVED SCARA COOKING FOR US (｡T ω T｡) he was so cute and such a little loser wanting to make sure we got three meals a day and keeping us comfortable (＞﹏＜) and the way we were teasing him about it aaaa!! the crumbs of scara's domesticity while being in his captivity LOLL

- - -

LOVELY, WONDERFUL, SWEET ANON, THANK YOU FOR SUCH A KIND MESSAGE OMG!!!!! ＊*♡( ⁎ᵕᴗᵕ⁎ ）

I'm very flattered you liked the little easter eggs I sprinkled throughout. I like the sound of Teyvatcord; it's really cute, so I'm happy you could enjoy it as well! And the Knights of Favonius versus Harbingers for the tournament Scaramouche was complaining about... I had fun mentioning it! Hopefully his team can win in the tournament!!! ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ and subtly dropping Xiao into the story, too!! >:D aaaaa so many fun little allusions are packed in there!!

But I'm glad you liked the part where he's getting angry at his teammates (writing "can you stop spamming the chat for five seconds, Tartaglia? Damn!" had me cracking a silly smile because I could hear it in his voice so perfectly). I had so much fun writing that scene and his banter with Reader!! They have such a fun chemistry. >0< and his ego boost at learning you're a virgin!! He shouldn't let it feed his pride too much because he's also a virgin LOL. I had fun writing the sex scenes. Scara is so cute and lovable when he isn't being a bully. <3 originally, he was going to be very mean and it would be more so punishment sex than anything, but I liked the idea of Scara softening over the fact that it's your first time as well. Even he can be sentimental at times hehe!!

And cooking for you yes!!!! Beyond the death threats, he cares in very subtle ways and one of those is making sure you're always fed. It's perfect domestic malewife energy. Scara just wants you to be content when you're here as his kitten-captive-roommate???? All of those things... orz he's a loser, but he's a loser who cares and isn't that so sweet!!!! ^v^

I did indeed update the masterlist hehe!!! :D I'm happy to know you're looking forward to Idia's ficlet! As for what I am working on next, the upcoming chapter for DRU is halfway complete, so I might release it before finishing "The Most Dangerous Game" (a yan!Jade fic). After those fics, I'll either finish Dr. Riddle, the next Bittersweet Secret chapter, or begin writing yandere!Trey. I hope those fics can be something you can look forward to!!! (˚���˚*)

Thank you again for enjoying what I post!!! <3 I'm glad that it can make you happy!!!!! And I will be sure to get plenty of rest! Please also make sure to get enough rest and eat delicious foods and drink water and don't forget to take any medicines or vitamins you may need!!!