#but I was particularly proud of this snippet

[crystallinecardinal]

A snippet from a Watcher!Grian + Desert Duo fic I’m working on

Enter scene: Third Life session eight

Prompt: No Kill Pass

—

“I’ve got no traps.” He says it like it’s his own way of coaxing Grian to fly to him, words gentle, as to not startle him. No traps, and no betrayal. To say it all like this, he must be able to sense the fear in his teammate’s eyes, despite the fact that the avian had already tried to bury it. “Okay,” Scar repeated, “stand right here—“

At least somewhat convinced (not entirely, but he could trust Scar for the most part), Grian made his way over, taking his place at Scar’s side. They don’t speak, but Grian’s dandelion yellow eyes catch the scarlet red of Scar’s, and it almost feels like too much comes between them in one moment. The human’s eyes aren’t readable, and yet swim with a thousand thoughts, while within the avian’s, a silent plea is held: Pick me, pick the desert sands. Pick the one who has been there for you since the first day. Forget winter. Forget Renchanting. Forget the Crastle. If you save me, it can be us. Just us, us and the world. We can be human together, and I’ll protect you from those I once knew. All you have to do is say the word…

He doesn’t say the word. Instead, Scar stayed quiet, bounding over to a hill between the two players before him, averting his gaze and sighing. For what?

Grian belonged to the stars and the void, despite what he wanted to believe. In the end, he knew he would never understand mortal emotion again. He understood that clear as day as he stared up at Scar, realizing his teammate wouldn’t just take an ally to the end through a simple decision. Grian should have been the obvious choice, and yet, the hounds were still out to get him, ready to tear his yellow life to shreds. If he needed to fight, then he would.

He would never understand mortal emotion, despite all of the time spent in the desert. What he didn’t realize is that, too, is only what he believed. In truth, he felt it just the same as any other human. He felt the anxiety swirling in the pit of his stomach, hoping that Scar would just listen, that he’d still choose him over a clock. That whatever this plan is, it won’t be something he can’t succeed in.

Scar pulled out a paper, and paused. The deal was about to be struck, but no salesman pitch would be heard.

“Whoever gets this no kill pass first, I don’t kill.”

He let go.

[eldritch-ace]

I love this trend and I’ve been seeing some regional Mikus, so take a New Mexican birthday girl in honor of Zozobra and hatch chile season. 🌵🫔⛰️

[fastandcarlos]

Mr Steal Your Girl » Lando Norris ft. Charles LeClerc

summary: the little sister of the leclerc’s catches plenty of attention, but what happens when she particularly catches the attention of a man in papaya

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 349,281 comments

ynleclerc: another week of travelling round the world pretending to be the most popular member of the leclerc family ❤️

42,291 comments

username1: you’ll always be the best leclerc sibling imo 🥰

username2: oh to be able to travel around with those three handsome faces

carlossainz55: lovely to see you y/n, same time next week?

ynleclerc: @/carlossainz55 you know charles won’t let me miss a race 😂

username3: you’re the most popular leclerc to me!!

arthur_leclerc: are we just going to pretend I wasn’t racing too? 😭

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc what’s to say this is my only post about this weekend 🤔

username4: you must be such a proud sister y/n!

landonorris: you’ll be my favourite if you convince charles to let me win 😉

username5: lando wtf

username6: is lando tryna impress a leclerc 🤯

charles_leclerc: you always manage to find the most flattering photos of me 😂❤️

alexandrasaintmleux: don’t tell charles but you’re secretly my number one 🤐

ynleclerc/ @/alexandrasaintmleux secret is safe with me 🥰🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, arthur_leclerc and 428,903 others

ynleclerc: a few snippets of yet another week with my fave trio ☺️

42,328 comments

username7: I just want to be part of the family too 😭

oscarpiastri: you seem to have forgotten your favourite brother…

ynleclerc: @/oscarpiastri dedicated post to my fave brother coming up 😂

username8: it’s not fair for one family to have so many good genes

landonorris: you guys are a bit cute 🌸

ynleclerc: @/landonorris we try our best 😇

username9: charles does not look like he wants to be part of these photos at all 😂😂

arthur_leclerc: number one spot belongs to me 🤔

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc whatever helps you sleep at night bro

username10: are we all just going to ignore lando in the comments again

username11: protective brother mode incoming…

pierregasly: stop feeding all your brothers’ fans with these kinda photos y/n!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 1,392,340 others

landonorris: thank you montreal for a lovely week, a wholesome week doing my favourite things 🌸🏎️

88,321 comments

username12: isn’t that the same emoji he posted on y/n’s post yesterday

username13: move the glass lando!!

alex_albon: something you want to tell me norris 🤔

georgerussell63: well the last photo is a bit of a surprise huh

username14: soft boyfriend lando is back ladies and gentleman

username15: petition for a face reveal asap

ynleclerc: that’s a big smile you’ve got there ☺️

landonorris: @/ynleclerc I just seem to be around someone who makes me pretty happy right now

username16: @/charles_leclerc @/arthur_leclerc come get your sister pls

username17: don’t say it…don’t say it…I think lando and y/n are dating

charles_leclerc: why are so many people sending me this post, what’s going on here sir?

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ybffusername, arthur_leclerc and 428,003 others

ynleclerc: the best week with you! 💕🥺

63,291 comments

username18: more pretty pink flowers omg

arthur_leclerc: idk where in the world you are but I expect you back at my house asap

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc im not a child anymore fyi 🙃

username19: no one can convince me that this isn’t lando

username20: all the signs point to a certain tanned brit 🤯🤯🤯

charles_leclerc: is this how you tell your brother that you’re with a boy, I refuse to accept this until you let me tell whoever they are exactly what I expect of them

username21: @/charles_leclerc luckily for you you’ll be seeing lando on thursday

oscarpiastri: I second what charles said, as your brother I expected better than this 😡

ynleclerc: @/oscarpiastri don’t you start as well

username22: if this is true…they might just be the cutest couple in the world

landonorris: 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 539,403 others

ynusername: I can be a mclaren girl for a week…right? 🏎️🧡

43,829 others

landonorris: you can be a mclaren girl every week as far as I’m concerned 🥰🤩

ynleclerc: @/landonorris my brothers aren’t happy that you’ve stolen me just so you know

landonorris: @/ynleclerc just call me mr steal your girl 🥰

username23: patiently waiting for charles to appear

username24: don’t tell your brothers, but papaya suits you more y/n 🧡

oscarpiastri: nice of you to come to the better team and support the better brother 😂

username25: y/n avoiding the ferrari garage for the foreseeable

charles_leclerc: um no…you’re a leclerc therefore you cheer for ferrari

ynleclerc: @/charles_leclerc I can support two teams, right?

charles_leclerc: @/ynleclerc no you cannot, why do you even want to support mclaren anyway?

ynleclerc: @/charles_leclerc I think you might no why 😝

username26: charles’ heart secretly breaking as his sister slips away

username27: preparing for lando to tease charles for the rest of his life

danielricciardo: you’re a brave girl…very brave

arthur_leclerc: we’ll be having words little sister

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, carlossainz55 and 1,392,507 others

landonorris: live footage of charles leclerc officially welcoming me to the family 😂🏆

104,228 comments

arthur_leclerc: congrats on the podium finish lando…charles might welcome you, but I’m the tougher brother 😂

landonorris: @/arthur_leclerc I already know that you adore me 🥺

username28: you just know charles is giving lando the sternest warning of his life

username29: are we potentially seeing a new bromance??

ynleclerc: charles told me what he said to you…I’m so sorry 😂

landonorris: @/charles_leclerc don’t worry love, I’ll take the rant if it means being with you 🧡

username30: charles tryna act all protective when deep down he’s the soppiest brother ever

username31: can’t wait to see endless interactions between lando and the leclercs

username32: @/username31 don’t forget brother piastri too

charles_leclerc: you’ve not got the seal of approval just yet norris…👀

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon and 493,017 others

ynusername: my brothers keep asking me what I see in lando…I’m hoping this post will shut them up ☺️

58,201 comments

charles_leclerc: nothing will ever make this make sense to me 🙄

alexandrasaintmleux: @/charles_leclerc that’s not true, @/ynleclerc you should’ve heard him gushing about lando last night

charles_leclerc: @/alexandrasaintmleux I thought you loved me…that was between us 😡

ynleclerc: @/alexandrasaintmleux I knew I could rely on you for the truth 💕

username33: please just keep posting more and more boyfriend lando y/n

username34: thank you for feeding us fans what we want

alex_albon: well this is a little bit cute 🤩🩷

landonorris: thank you for finding all my best angles 🥰🧡

username35: how can anyone resist that smile??

arthur_leclerc: stop guilting us into public acceptance 😂

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc idk what you’re talking about 😂

username36: the leclercs are officially my favourite family ever

oscarpiastri: if it counts for anything - I approve ☺️

ynleclerc: @/oscarpiastri fave brother 🏆✅

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 732,049 others

ynusername: a girl can have more than one favourite can’t she ❤️🧡

84,030 comments

username37: imagine having four people in your life who adore you as much as these guys adore y/n

username38: it’s the all white coordination for me

carla.brocker: I thought that I was your fave 💔

ynleclerc: @/carla.brocker you are…it’s top secret

username39: I don’t think my heart can take anymore

arthur_leclerc: I guess we all just love you so much 😂

username40: the photo with charles omg

charles_leclerc: what can I say? I adore you little sis ❤️🥰

username41: the love between y/n and charles and lando is the sweetest

landonorris: I’ll happily be one of your favourites if it means getting to spend the rest of my life with you 🌸🧡

arthur_leclerc: @/landonorris 🤮🤮

ynleclerc: @/landonorris I can’t wait for forever with you!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, danielricciardo and 1,492,503 others

landonorris: officially stole your girl…

104,852 comments

charles_leclerc: I will never let you truly steal my little sister 😡

username42: you just can’t help yourself lando 😂

username43: waiting for the day a leclerc knocks lando out lmao

arthur_leclerc: sharing is caring lando norris!

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc im a human not a pizza fyi 🙄

oscarpiastri: you really weren’t lying…mr steal your girl 👏🏻

username44: secretly charles is seething seeing this

alex_albon: that first photo looks like you’ve just been caught out by charles 😂

username45: still my favourite leclerc in the world 🌍

danielricciardo: congrats on cracking the leclercs!!

ynleclerc: you’re lucky I (and my brothers) love you so much 🧡 thank you for the best holiday 🌸

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[boltlightning]

with writer ask games i'm usually just trying to coyly share snippets, so allow me to introduce a new one:

send me a number and i'll share an excerpt of my writing...

that makes me smile

that makes me laugh

that encompasses my style

with dialogue i'm proud of

with description i'm proud of

that i struggled with, but triumphed over

that i nursed in a daydream before finally writing

that hurt my own feelings to write

with characters i love

with characters i struggle with

with characters i want to write more in the future

that has a particularly good bit of characterization

that helped me understand a character better

that was out of my comfort zone

from an old piece that i like

from a recent piece i want to brag about

from an unpublished WIP

from that one WIP everyone has that has no plot, just vibes

from that project that was SUPPOSED to be short but then i kept writing and now it is very long

from a scrapped project

that i liked, but had to cut

that is so blissfully self-indulgent

that was inspired by a work from another medium (music, visual art, dance, etc.)

that makes me go "huh...i wrote that?!"

that i consider a favorite

please feel free to rb <3

[merakiui]

"You don't have to leave you know" with jade please? Love your writing

:D this is connected to tmdg. I couldn't resist writing another snippet with my favorite pair of fools: one who is lovesick and the other who is lovestruck. <3 (implied fem reader + pregnancy)

(fwb dialogues)

When Jade sets a bowl of porridge topped with bananas and blueberries in front of you, you eye him suspiciously.

"What's this?"

"Breakfast. Specifically the overnight oats we prepared yesterday."

You deadpan, peering at the smiling face he managed to arrange with the fruit. "I know that. But why?"

He turns away to continue cutting an apple into rabbit-shaped slices. "Isn't breakfast the most important meal out of the three? You can't start your day on an empty stomach."

It's the weekend; you don't particularly care. Strangely, when he places the plate in front of you, there isn't a portion for himself. Everything's fixed for one person. You've known Jade and his monstrous appetite long enough to suspect something's amiss. More importantly, this is the third time this week he's insisted on spending the night to prepare, what he calls, "safe make-ahead meals." Why he felt the need to call them safe is beyond you... Even more strange is the fact that all of these meals have looked flowery and cute. Almost like something you'd find in a themed café. Either he's having way too much fun, or there's some deeper, underlying meaning behind the adorable image.

"I'm not really a breakfast person."

He pouts at you. It isn't very effective. "You're missing the joys of a good meal in the morning."

"I'm missing good sleep. I'm not even that hungry." But even as you say that, your stomach produces a betraying rumble.

Jade's lips split in an easy grin. He almost looks like Floyd. "You were saying?"

"Shut up." With a weak scowl, you swipe the spoon from the table and scoop a bite for yourself.

He chuckles and rolls his sleeves down, buttons his jacket up, and heads for the hall. You blink, even more confused.

"Where're you going?"

"Octavinelle."

"What? But you... Jade, you haven't even eaten either. Kinda makes your point meaningless if you're gonna skip breakfast after you just told me not to."

He peeks around the corner. "What are you implying?"

You open your mouth to say, Just get back in here and eat, you asshole. But that's only part of the truth. He knows this, which is precisely why he's now refusing to move from his spot in the doorway until you've admitted it.

"Nothing. I'm just saying..."

"Yes?" he offers, smiling placidly.

Your patience has grown especially thin as of late. The smallest of things set you off. Just yesterday you started openly bawling when Jade arrived at your doorstep with a tin of cookies—cookies you'd begged him to get over text after the recommendation from Ace. You think you may be falling apart. Jade thinks you've never looked prettier.

Huffing your defeat, you avert your gaze. "Y-You don't have to leave, you know... Stay a little longer."

You expect him to tease you for it, to really lay it on so thick that you'll have no choice but to get up and drag him over to the table by the ear. But instead he's lowering into the chair beside you. You'd chased him out the past few times he attempted to overstay his welcome, which he'd accepted without complaint. Now he just looks happy to be here. You'll never understand him.

You scoop a spoonful of porridge and, grabbing his chin, force it at him. "And eat! You're not getting any taller."

His hand wraps around yours, smoothly guiding it to his mouth. An appreciative hum proves he's proud of the result after he's sampled it. You have to agree. It's delicious.

"And you're not getting any more beautiful."

You stare at him, embarrassment clawing up your spine. While these pleasantries aren't unusual, they still manage to catch you by surprise. Not because of the sweetness, but because he genuinely means every one.

"Actually, I take it back. I hope you starve."

Jade leans in to nudge you. "I'll learn to photosynthesize just for you and then that problem will never come to pass."

"How it only nine and you're already being an ass?"

"It's my specialty."

[kiwiana-writes]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

I've already shared a few snippets from my trans!Alex Fandom Trumps Hate fic, which I am SO fucking excited about—but I've also taken my usual batshit chaotic approach of 'just write stuff as inspiration hits and fit it all together later', and I realised a not-insignificant period of time into doing this that I'd written some stuff that was inherently contradictory. But I also LOVED it all and didn't wanna give anything up... so long story short, now I have TWO trans!Alex WIPs 🤣 One is the longer, more Big Feelings fic for FTH... and the other is this, which will be a bit shorter. And pornier. I mean, they'll both have porn and feelings, because I am who I am, but... you know. Let's fucking go. (I might try to smash this one out for @rwrbgenderfunkyfest if I can!)

“Jesus fuck, sweetheart.” Alex buries one hand in his own curls as he comes down, the other resting on the top of Henry’s head, who has only moved far enough away to press soft kisses to Alex’s thigh. Henry’s face is a fucking mess, and he looks… well, he would say Henry looks unduly proud of himself, except for the fact that his knees currently have the approximate consistency and weight-bearing capabilities of a particularly booze-heavy jello shot, so really, Henry’s earned the smugness that’s radiating out of every pore. “That was—” “Yes, it was rather.” Henry smirks, his eyes locked on Alex’s as he flattens it, dragging it up towards his hip before planting a hard, toothy kiss there. His hand slides up Alex’s other leg until his thumb is resting at the edge of the scar above Alex’s pubic bone, and Alex reads the question in his eyes half a second before he voices it. “May I?” Alex blinks. In his experience, people tend to ignore his scars completely during sex, even if they have practical questions about the equipment. But Henry’s already sucked him off until he saw God—if he gets any better at it, Alex might die. “If you want.” Henry’s smile softens into something sweet and hopeful and breathtaking, and then he leans forward to press an almost unbearably gentle kiss to the raised skin there. “Christ, you’re beautiful.” It’s so quiet, Alex isn’t sure he was meant to hear it at all.

Tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517

@celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice

@everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz

@leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @matherines @myheartalivewrites

@ninzied @nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @orchidscript

@piratefalls @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail

@sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @thesleepyskipper @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland

@whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

[snail-studios]

It’s “appreciate yourself” hours! Pick five pieces of writing/art that you’ve done that you love and talk about them! ❤️❤️❤️

THIS IS SO SWEET??? 😭

Umm ok!!! 🥺🥺

I really like this picture of mipha specifically!! I feel like the emotion is shown really well and even tho there are a lot of things I can't do with her to make crying more realistic (nose to go red and run, ect) I think I've shown it as best as I can ^^ I also love the way her top showed up and am proud of the little star <3

I really like this sketch. My first miphlink kiss I've drawn :D the hands look better than usual and I like the green/pink gradient. I like the looseness of the lines, too. I was really just having fun with it and not putting too much pressure on myself

Even if this didn't turn out as I'd hoped it would in colour I like how mipha turned out :'^) still disappointed with the overall outcome so won't be sharing unless prompted, sorry T.T

This animation still impresses me when I look at it XD I did that????? What???

Mipha dropped her bag onto the table with a thud. Her hands trembled on the sink as she poured herself a glass of water. She bit her lip hard, choking down a sob as she lifted the glass to her lips. She wiped her mouth, her hand coming back red with a spot of blood, mixed with lipstick. Her eyes burned with tears and she let them fall, shoulders shaking with each quiet cry. Oh, she’d messed everything up, she’d let everything fall apart and now everyone was in danger.

In the dim light of the empty safehouse it was hard to see. The window above the sink stared out at a concrete wall, a cruel mockery of what she could be looking at instead. Even from deep underground she could hear the hail thundering onto them, a constant pitter-patter with the occasional thud as a particularly large ball of ice fell.

She faintly heard the door upstairs open, multiple pairs of footsteps coming down the stairs until Gaddison, Bazz and Rivan burst into the kitchen, rosy cheeked and smiling fin-to-fin. They chatted amongst each other for less than a minute, before seeming to realise Mipha was standing at the sink and turning to her.

“Oh, Mipha. Hey.” A gentler smile curved Bazz's lips, and he picked the bandage on his cheek. Her heart rate picked up. He was, like Gaddison and Rivan, absolutely covered in bandages. A thick one was wrapped around his bicep, a blood soaked gauze was taped on Gaddison's knee, and Rivan was covered in small, shark patterned band-aids. 

“What…” She gulped, reaching backwards to steady herself on the kitchen bench. She was used to the sight of blood, but that, coupled with her exhaustion and the way they had messily covered their wounds sent a wave of light headedness to her head. “What happened…?”

Im proud of how quickly I wrote this Fisheye Lense snippet :> I really enjoy writing Mipha with a lot of people who love her and am excited to show that more in the fic 😌

Thank you so much for this! I really needed it and it made me realise how much stuff I've created recently that I'm proud of!!!

[featherlumina]

What’s your favorite quirk/habit you give the cc cast when you write them?

(Glad you’re back in this mess :D, also yes everything behind gen SHOULD be on fire)

Thank you so much for the ask! :D I'm going to stick to who I've written so far, but that's still quite a few to think about! I hope you enjoy my silly/angsty/cute snippets. :3 Genesis He annotates the crap out of any book he owns. Don't get me wrong, he's got pristine copies of all editions of LOVELESS reserved for viewing only, but he's also got versions exclusively for scribbling notes and interpretations in the margins. In one particular copy, though, the notes start to get choppier, rougher, more...unhinged, as the degradation drags from months into years and his desperation for a cure deepens, particularly after the Nibelheim incident. Angeal This man can take a nap anywhere. Up a tree, in a rock crevice, in a military truck that's careening into every pothole by a careless driver... Angeal is the king of shuteye in unlikely places. It's very handy on rough missions. Sephiroth Likes to exercise his authority as a First to refuse any SOLDIER missions that even vaguely assist Hojo's research out of sheer spite. Genesis is incredibly proud of him. Zack This guy is a chaos cook, and by that I mean he just throws whatever crap he has available into a pan and just vibes. The 'throw anything together' habit he picked up from Angeal, yes, but he missed the 'think about sensible flavour combinations' part. Cloud He's a nervous fidgeter and has a lot of anxious energy that needs to escape. Drumming his fingers, leg bouncing, fiddling with his earring, picking skin, you name it. This behaviour is more prominent in his infantry days, too. Cissnei She's a collector, and by that I mean a collector of small keepsakes and trinkets found on missions around the world. Being raised in a orphanage meant that she barely had any possessions growing up, so she treasured anything that was hers and hers alone. Sometimes it's silly things from gift shops, or interesting rocks, feathers, scales, etc.

(She definitely kept a feather from that Genesis copy in Sector 8, for example.) Lazard You think this bloke only started embezzling money from ShinRa when Genesis defected? Not a chance. A lot of it gets funnelled to his non-ShinRa relatives, but also gets channelled into charitable projects around Midgar supporting people of the slums.

[dasiesanddarkness]

Who wants a snippet from the explicit Wesper fic I'm currently writing?

Wylan leans down and places open mouthed kisses in a line from Jesper’s belly button to the space between his collar bones. Jesper twitches with each press of Wylan’s mouth on his skin, but he does his best to stay still. It’s hard, but he tries, because he knows it makes Wylan happy- knows it makes him proud, and Jesper wants so badly for Wylan to be proud of him.

"Tell me what’s wrong.”

The words are surprising, not at all where Jesper thought this would go, but he supposes it makes sense. Wylan has never let him ignore his feelings like he wants to.

“I don’t know,” Jesper breathes. Wylan presses a kiss to his shoulder.

“Yes you do,” he says softly. “And I want you to tell me so I know exactly what I need to do for you.”

Jesper sighs, arches his back. He does know, or he would if he thought about it like Wylan wants him to, but he’s never been good at thinking. His mind moves too fast for him to fully process most of what goes through it, and on days like this it moves even faster. It’s easier to just pretend the thoughts aren’t real and distract himself, but Wylan won’t let him. So he thinks, back to ten minutes ago when he had zoned out and his mind had wandered into dangerous territory.

“I don’t-” he cuts himself off when Wylan licks over his nipple. It makes it both harder and easier to talk through this, but he doesn’t want Wylan to stop.

“I don’t feel right,” he continues. “I feel disconnected from everything, like it’s happening and I’m just watching it.”

“But that’s not it, is it?” Wylan presses, and part of Jesper wishes he would just leave it alone.

“No,” he says. Wylan makes a noise, encouraging him to keep talking, and Jesper sighs. Squeezes his eyes shut. Sighs again, because he doesn’t want to talk about this, but he will. For Wylan.

“I feel like you deserve better than me.” The admission comes out in a whisper, and he almost hopes Wylan doesn’t hear it.

He does. Of course he does. Wylan pays attention to Jesper in a way very few have before, so of course he hears when Jesper admits that he doesn’t feel like he’s good enough.

Wylan’s hands leave his wrists and his mouth leaves his neck, and then he’s cupping Jesper’s face in his hands and kissing him insistently. Jesper threads his fingers through Wylan’s hair, lets the soft feeling of it ground him.

“Jesper,” Wylan whispers against his lips, and then he kisses him again.

Wylan isn’t good with words. He’s told Jesper that, made sure early on in their relationship that he knew that sometimes it was impossible for him to express himself properly, but that it didn’t mean he didn’t love him. But in moments like these, when Jesper is hurting and Wylan needs to reassure him and tell him that everything is okay, Wylan wishes he was good with words. Wishes he knew exactly what to say to make the anxiety sharp in Jesper’s head melt like icicles in the presence of the sun, how to make it go from jagged and dangerous to harmless and manageable.

“Jesper,” he says again. He tries to convey everything he thinks, everything he knows in that one word, but he knows it won’t work, so he kisses him instead. He kisses him, and then he tries again. “Jesper, I don’t deserve better that you.”

Jesper tries to open his mouth, tries to disagree or protest but Wylan isn’t having it, so he kisses him for what must be the hundredth time. “I don’t deserve better than you because there is no one better than you.”

There. It’s not poetry, and it’s not particularly eloquent or clever, but it’s true. It’s what Wylan knows. It’s a fact, and Wylan has always dealt in facts.

[catreginae]

okay i really really want to start reading your vampire wars thing because first of all, im OBSESSED with the concept, and second, it just seems cool as hell, but i’ve been unable to read recently so i haven’t had a chance to get to it. ITS ON MY LIST THO 🙌🙌🙌

BUT I STILL WANNA KNOW ABOUT HIM HE SEEMS SO COOL. I don’t wanna ask annoying questions cos I feel like most of the one’s I have are things you’ve probably already answered haha, BUT TELL ME ABOUT UR SPECIAL GUY. Is there anything in particular you just really really wanna talk about? Any little details you’re really proud of that you want people to notice? Can he turn into a particularly fluffy little bat? If so would bat Wars appreciate head pats? Is there a specific vampire lore that inspired this?

-crazylittlejester

Sorry this took so long! This is the first ask I got after asking for them but it's the last I got to!

I think people realized these things but I’m going to talk about them anyway!

Warriors has bad self-esteem. He’s super protective of the others. He has the ability to regenerate, so it’s hard to hurt him in a way that actually matters. He can pretty much bounce back from anything. Anyway, all three of these aspects of Warriors feed into each other. He doesn’t care about what happens to him because he can regenerate. The pain is worth it if the others are safe. He thinks keeping the others safe by taking the really bad hits is how he’s earning his keep in the group because he has a hard time accepting that they actually like him for who he is. The others are working on it!

This boy is a pacer. When he’s restless and antsy, or hopped up on blood, he just starts pacing. He cannot help it.

Warriors is actually the sleepiest in the chain and beats even Sky. I headcanon Sky with sleep apnea (because of projection) but Warriors ends up sleeping the most because being half-vampire is actually really hard on his body. I like it imagine that sleep is the glue that keeps his Hylian half and vampire half together to make one mostly functional person. This is why he can pretty much fall asleep immediately if he’s injured but also had some blood.

The fluffy bat thing is a plan but hasn’t happened yet. It’s not a vampire thing in this AU (it is a nod to it at least?) nor is it his shadow crystal form. It’s wizzrobe bullshittery that he actually saw some use in so he begged Lana for some way to have regular access to a bat form. It’s probably some sort of jewellery. I wrote a very small snippet about Four throwing a tiny bat Warriors into the air to help him figure out lift. Of course, he’s a vampire bat because they can run on the ground and I think that’s pretty neat. Go look up a zoo feeding them blood, they just run on the ground and take little sippies out of a bowl.

And finally, the inspiration for this AU is a movie from the 80s called The Lost Boys. It inspired his appearance a little bit (he’s got the same yellow and red eyes). Lore wise, some of the abilities made it over but I used a lot of different inspirations for this AU and of course, I had to try to remix it fit Zelda too. The Lost Boys is the first inspiration though because I was in that rabbit hole when I wrote the first chapter.

[starqueensthings]

Surprise self-rec time! Pick 3 of your favorite things you’ve written and share them here, then put this in the inbox (anonymously or not) of your fellow writers to spread the positivity and help celebrate already written fics 💞

First of all, when the heck did my anon function turn on 😆 I genuinely thought I’d had that shit turned off! Apparently not!

Second, I heckin love when these self rec chains go around. There is little more beautiful in this world than watching a creator gush about their work when given the platform to do so… something they’re so proud of… something that brought them so much joy, all they want to do is share it with the people they love.

In true Holly fashion, I am going to be long winded about this, so please accept a read more as to not clutter up your feed.

1. Colder Weather - A 3-part post-stasis/Pirate Kix x fem!reader ficlet that promises to punch you right in the heart. This is probably the most emotional thing I’ve ever written, and while I know it’s not for everyone… boy am I ever proud of it.

2. Dork Love - A 4-part Tech x GN!reader ficlet that was supposed to only be one, but pulled a Miley Cyrus and couldn’t be tamed. It’s a mostly lighthearted little story about hard work, altruism, navigating a sudden and unexpected crush, and how one’s perception is not always reality. Because the fandom is extremely protective about Tech and his characterization in fanon extensions of canon, I’m sure this won’t be for everyone either… but writing something that read ND!Tech x ND!Reader was important to me.

3. The Only Exception - A fem!OC x Captain Howzer Longfic. I started writing it what feels like a lifetime ago, and I swore to my distant ancestors that it would never see anyone’s eyes but my own… That plan changed when I met some very supportive, OC-loving friends that encouraged me to share it with the world, and I’ve since been slowly tweaking it chapter by chapter to ensure my passive verbs and run-on sentences are brought to a level that’s readable for others hahaha it’s a very slow work in progress, but it’s the most throughout, detailed work I’ve ever funnelled energy into, and I’ll forever cherish June and her experiences learning and growing. (Not a self insert, though I wish it was. June is more bad ass than I could ever hope to be, though she has no clue.)

**snippets below the cut**

1. Colder Weather - Part One

Those optimistic moments often saw you rambling, thoughts slipping easily from mind to mouth in a desperate attempt to keep him connected to you; resolute in keeping him both physically and mentally present; urgently trying to protect him from the monster on his shoulders long enough for him to realize that everything he could ever want was lying peacefully beside him. Periodically, if your chosen topic was one he found particularly amusing, his eyes would crinkle under the embrace of a smile, and — if the universe deemed you worthy that night — a hoarse chuckle would pour from his lips. Despite your continued pleas to the stars, it was a sound that graced your ears with a tragic infrequence, yet the way its radiance illuminated your soul had you shamelessly begging the universe that it continue to spill from his lips for all eternity.

But despite the prophetic bond that kept him returning to your side, only once had the bliss of your union softened his guard enough to let something… slip. Only once had he mentioned a brother: Jesse, a man spoken of thoughtlessly as Kix snickered his way through the recollection of a frantic speeder ride across the plains of Saleucami. But the music of his laughter utterly vanished upon voicing the name that he never meant to speak, the silence that filled its wake so polluted in unexpressed grief, that even the hushed sounds of your breath felt inappropriate, and despite having watched the light leave his eyes so often in the past, you’d never seen it replaced with a darkness as deep and as sorrowful as then.

“Tell me about him,” you probed instantly, hopeful that the delicate touch of your hand on his shoulder would be enough to ground him there in the bed with you; hopeful that the soft caress of your fingers would prevent him from conceding to his anguish, tossing the sheet aside and leaving you with nothing but the familiar sight of his retreating back and the bittersweet smell of him lingering on your pillow.

2. Dork Love - Part Four.

“An apology is not required,” Tech spoke instead. “It would appear that I jumped to an inaccurate conclusion upon arriving here to find you missing. It was a most uncharacteristic overreaction, and one from which I now-suffer a great compunction.”

“Compunction?” you repeated, brows furrowing at the implications of his confession as you reached to pull the coils from his shoulder. “Why?”

Tech hesitated for only a breath, watching your nimble fingers blanch under the weight of the wire as you took it from him. “Well… several years of advanced training and exposure therapy have rendered me effectively inured to a multitude of scenarios that others may deem distressing,” he divulged as something near concern wiped the smile from your lips. “Yet, I failed to maintain control of my emotions in the face of your disappearance. I became largely inexorable, making objectively impetuous and questionable decisions.”

“Tech,” you uttered in little more than a consoling whisper, his stomach lurching as your free hand collected his from somewhere near his hip, those slightly chilled fingers weaving their way in between his before the soft, consoling brush of your thumb nearly weakened his knees. “There is nothing to regret. Worrying about someone is nothing to be ashamed of, and arguably even less so if that person is someone you care greatly about. In fact, an initial surge of panic followed by attempts to verify their safety is likely the expected psychological response to such concerns. You walked into what looked like a very foreboding situation and had no data to disprove your suspected theory.”

“I suppose that is correct,” Tech shrugged, dropping his gaze to the toe of his oily boot, “Though it has been several years since I last studied the sympathetic subsection of the autonomic nervous system in response to traumatic stimuli.”

“Sounds like an interesting read,” you mumbled through a sarcastic smile that prompted the return of his gaze. “Tell me– if the same situation presented itself again, would you not react similarly? Would you not do everything within your power to make sure that someone was okay while everything around you was telling you they’re not?”

“Of course I would.”

“Then that’s that,” you answered simply. “There’s no reason to regret your actions, just like I don't suffer any contempt for getting myself stuck on Ryloth. Making the trip there was the best and potentially only solution based on the information available to me at the time. Things went awry… and that’s okay, because we should always do what our gut is telling us to do when it comes to things and people that we care greatly about.”

And there it was: that intemerate benevolence that he wholly adored about you, reemerging to knock him over the head with a validation that he’d never experienced before… and the subsequent moment, as his eyes locked on yours and his grip on your hand tightened, he felt truly seen as himself. Not Tech the highly-skilled soldier… not Tech the ingenious mechanic responsible for keeping the GAR’s most elite squad in the air… not Tech the pilot who loved his datapad above all else and never slept. You saw Tech… accepting and welcoming him as he is; validating his infrequent displays of vulnerability as if humanity was something he could and should experience first hand without fear of persecution or judgement.

“Oh, and don’t think I didn’t catch that,” you added, brow shifting into a devious arch as a playful smirk tugged at your lips.

“Catch what, exactly?”

“The oxymoron you dropped in there: ‘found you missing’. Someone can’t be found and missing, hun. But keep dropping them– I’ll catch ‘em every time.”

3. The Only Exception - Chapter Two.

‘He’s just a soldier,’ she reminded herself with a snort of self-directed derision, desperately trying to extract her password from the depths of her distracted brain.

And he was. There was nothing overtly different or unusual about CT–5863 in relation to the hundred-or-so other clones that had passed in and out of her care since the war began. Quite frankly, there couldn’t be anything different about him, it was genetically impossible. So why had one look from this set of honeyed eyes seen her stomach careening into the next dimension and her nerves prickling as if every shift of his gaze left a trail atop her skin?

Thrice she tried and failed to enter her secure information into that software, yet its repeated beeps toward the inevitable system lock-out fell on entirely deaf ears, and it wasn’t until the screen strobed that she’d near-reached the maximum login attempts did some glimmer of awareness surge back to her.

“I’m Dr. Kiore,” June told him, attempting to banish that myriad of improper thoughts by corralling every cooperating neuron into entering her password, and the breath she’d unintentionally held in her lungs was granted their escape atop a sigh of relief as that familiar landing screen emerged in front of her. “What’s your name?”

“CT–58—”

“No, Captain, your name.”

“My name?” A puzzled pause preceded his answer, that brief second of hesitation having failed to lessen any of the obvious confusion behind those two words, and the notion that she may have to formally explain such a simple concept was the first to pull a smile to June’s lips.

But, “Howzer.” He recovered quickly, offering his name in the same tone he’d used upon hearing her tap on the door, and the small creases now wreathing those twinkling eyes as they narrowed in something close to suspicion entirely laid bare his continued bewilderment at her behaviour.

“Howzer,” she repeated, offering him a casual smile as she swiped her finger across the monitor and entered the information next to his designation number. “It’s nice to meet you.”

A moment’s innocent silence fell between them as she typed, masterfully toggling between different pages of his medical chart and familiarizing herself with the details of his treatment history. For an active soldier, particularly one that appeared as if he’d spent several respite-free rotations laying in the foreign dirt of a distant planet, his chart was remarkably vacant, the only few noted injuries being quickly treated in the field and recorded somewhat haphazardly by the trio of different medics who had seen him.

“I– I think that might be the first time a civilian’s asked me that,” he contemplated under his breath, eyes unfocussing as he rubbed that dirty palm across the stubble on his chin

“Yeah, well… they were supposed to ask downstairs,” June scoffed, the grumble swaddling her tone readily exposing the disdain for the repeated shortcomings of her colleagues. “I’ve asked them four billion times to try and remember, but of course no one listens to the youngest.”

While his lungs expanded to utter what was undoubtedly going to be another humorous quip, the sentiment was stolen off his tongue by a sudden and salient cringe of discomfort. In that otherwise banal motion of sitting up straight, hand reaching upward to thoughtlessly push those dark waves further back from his forehead, a spasm of pain quickly froze his actions, that sharp jaw quickly clenching behind olive cheeks as a muted grunt rumbled in his chest.

[totkdaily]

What Next?

He did it! It took Link 112 days to save Princess Zelda in Tears of the Kingdom.

Thank you so much to everyone who's followed this journey, particularly after I had to take a break in the middle. It was reading your tags and comments that motivated me to come back sooner than I'd planned, and I'm really proud of myself for seeing through such a bonkers project. The whole thing clocks in at around 47,000 words, and that's not including all the image descriptions. Of course, this game has its flaws - it is such a shame the Imprisoning War stories aren't more varied. But it's absolutely gorgeous, and it's those skies and landscapes that keep me coming back.

There's plenty I didn't even get to in those 112 days! I hadn't seen the dagger memory (WILD to not have that snippet of information going into the endgame), I hadn't saved Lurelin from pirates, I hadn't visited all the Skyview Towers (missed out the Tabantha Snowfields one), or unlocked the Travel Medallions. I think there was a couple of stables I didn't visit, and I definitely didn't hunt down all the Yiga bases on the surface. Not to mention shrines, koroks, signposts, armor... Almost four in-game months, and though I've completed the story I've still got plenty of excuses to keep exploring Hyrule.

So what now?

I won't be doing this again any time soon! Part of me wonders how long it would take in Breath of the Wild, but I think there's a major difference between the games which would make it a less rewarding project: BOTW Link doesn't remember Zelda. I always felt less committed to saving the Princess in BOTW, at least until I'd recovered the memories. And it was Link's connection to Zelda from the beginning, I felt, that drove much of the TOTK Daily project.

I won't be keeping up the daily posting for obvious reasons, but I will keep the blog name for archival purposes. Maybe I should pin this post as an explanation for that.

I do have a few ideas for posts, here and there. I'd like to celebrate the beautiful landscape - maybe recommending or reviewing locations as one might to tourists? I will be a little sporadic about it, as inspiration strikes - at the moment I'm very much enjoying exploring this game again in a less goal-orientated way.

Thank you again to everyone who has supported this project! I'm so pleased to have seen it through, and I hope you found the conclusion as satisfying as I did.

[moonselune]

So I'm writing a longfic and throughout it Minthy adopts a half-drow kid, but I wanted to see the idea as a stand-alone snippet written in your marvelous style, if you're up to it <3

Okay I'm going down the road of accidental child acquisition and for some reason or another she has this half drow kid with her when she is trying to take over Menzoberranzen. I see her plotting in a tavern pre her return, and she just has this kid with her who is trying to show off their latest trick.

Minthara sat at a weathered wooden table in a dimly lit tavern, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on her intricate maps. Her sharp eyes scanned the lines and markings, plotting her next move to reclaim Menzoberranzen. Beside her, a half-drow child fidgeted restlessly, trying to capture her attention.

"Minthy, look! One hand!" the child exclaimed, balancing precariously on a table with one hand.

"It's Minthara, not Minthy, and I am trying to—oh, by the gods, get down from there, now." Minthara snapped, glancing up from her maps. The child wobbled, their hand trembling under the strain.

"Shut up, child eater."

"Sun scum."

"Spider kisser."

"Mongrel."

"Murk—Ow!" The child's arm finally gave way, and they tumbled off the table, landing in a heap on the floor with a crash.

Minthara sighed, a small smile playing on her lips as she smoothed out her maps. "I told you to get down from there," she chided, though her eyes softened as she glanced at the child. Seeing the devious grin forming on their face, she knew they were uninjured. She then stood up abruptly, thwarting the child's plan to kick the chair from under her.

"No fair…" the child grumbled, brushing themselves off.

"Then be better," Minthara retorted as she retrieved the chair that had been unceremoniously kicked across the room.

"Then be better," the child mocked, quickly ducking to avoid the small book Minthara tossed at them. They settled on a nearby chair, drawing their legs up to their chest and huffing. "I'm bored!"

"Then make yourself useful and come plot with me," Minthara said, her tone softening slightly.

"Really?" The child's eyes lit up with excitement as they scrambled off the chair to join her at the table. They peered over the edge, trying to make sense of the intricate plans sprawled across the surface.

"Yes, really," Minthara replied, pulling them closer. "Look here," she pointed to a marked section on the map. "This is where we'll stage our ambush. What do you think we should do to catch them off guard?"

The child's brow furrowed in concentration as they studied the map. "Maybe we can hide in the shadows here," they suggested, pointing to a narrow alleyway.

"That's a good idea. We'll use that to our advantage." Minthara nodded, a proud smile tugging at her lips. She patted the child's head, affectionately, she then motioned for them to grab a chair and sit next to her.

Throughout the night they plotted and schemed, Minthara passing on all that she knew to her new prodigy. She made a mental note to start introducing them to poisons and toxins next, build up their immunity. As the moon peaked in the sky, Minthara was drawn from her thoughts by a light snore, the child had sworn that they were simply resting their head on her shoulder so they could get to see everything from her perspective. She should have known from their ceased chattering that followed soon that you had fallen asleep.

Sighing Minthara picked the child up, being careful not to stir them from their slumber. She had never thought herself particularly maternal, well at least not in the conventional sense, she knew she would be an excellent drow mother. Perhaps she could come to a compromise for this child.

Oh my god I had to stop myself from writing a full fic this was so much fun and I hope you like it - Seluney xox

[freckledsokka]

wip wednesday

a wee snippet of the self-indulgent tense-fuckery zukka fic i'm working on that no one asked for! most of this fic is sokka (ghost sokka? spirit sokka? who knows) waxing poetic about zuko grieving him, but i wrote this scene with korra for a touch of levity (while still being a little angsty).

note: this is NOT a reader fic. do not let the use of "you" fool you. this is fully from sokka's pov as if he's narrating this to zuko.

"You remind me of him," you tell the Avatar, something wistful tugging at the corner of your mouth, reaching to the creases of your eyes. Korra looks almost bashful, or maybe just flattered. "I get that a lot," she says quietly, as if it's a sore subject but she doesn't want to offend you by mentioning it. You smile at her, warm and reassuring. "I don't mean Aang." "Oh." She sounds surprised, which quickly gives way to embarrassed when you offer her an encouraging smirk to help the thought along. "Oh," she says again, nearly in a different octave. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I should have realized that's — of course, that's who you meant." She laughs nervously, waving her hand vaguely at herself. "Southern Water Tribe, duh." "It's not just that," you tell her, and her nervous energy seems to settle a little at the calm, smooth tone of your voice. "You have the same tenacity, the same spirit. He would be proud to see the Avatar you've become."

Korra is quiet for a moment, either out of respect or simply a loss for words. Then she smiles, a little sheepishly but no less grateful to be honored in such a way. "Tenzin told me he — the Chief? — was with you and my father the night the Red Lotus tried to kidnap me." She looks away, guilt seeping into the set of her shoulders, the way she wraps her arms across her chest. "I'm sorry, I — Did he —?" She glances back, eyes bright, pleading for some kind of forgiveness she doesn't need to be given. "Was it my fault?"

"Korra," you say slowly, frowning, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "What did Tenzin tell you? The Red Lotus had nothing to do with Sokka's passing."

Her eyes go wide. "Really? But he made it sound like — I mean, my dad became Head Chieftain not long after that, I thought —"

You can't help the chuckle low in the back of your throat, a rumble of distant thunder, warm as a summer storm. "No, Korra. Sokka never was particularly suited to be Chief. He felt it was time to pass it on, is all. That, and he felt he could do more good behind the scenes, or through his work in Republic City. But, more often than not, he was with me. Those years were some of our best." 

Korra lets out a trill of nerves, huffing in relief. "Thank the Spirits." A beat, the haunted look of someone who is technically thousands of years old yielding to the vulnerability of someone barely out of her teens carrying the weight of the Spirit and human worlds on her shoulders, knowing she is the reason your — our — friend is gone. This is the cycle we were all prepared for, and yet — "Is that why I barely remember him? Didn't he ever visit Katara at the compound? Why didn't he ever say hello?"

"I wish I could tell you, Korra, but he never gave me his reasons." A wry smile. "I'm sorry if I kept him from you."

Korra twists her mouth, setting her jaw defiantly. "Lord Zuko, if I may —" She isn't really asking permission and you know this, but you nod anyway. "That's bullshit, and you know it. He was your husband. Don't tell me you didn't know just because he didn't tell you."

Your mouth twitches knowingly, even as your expression remains impressively neutral. "I had my suspicions, of course."

"Which were?" Korra presses.

If she weren't the Avatar, I suspect you would've said something along the lines of None of your damn business or Nothing to concern yourself about. Being the Avatar still has its perks in dragging honesty out of you, it seems. Still, you manage to make it a whole production, sighing like it physically pains you to admit it. 

"He wanted to wait until you'd mastered all four elements before he would teach you" — an exaggerated eyeroll, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose — "the 'fifth element.'"

Korra's brow furrows. She blinks like she's waiting for a punchline. "The — what? There is no fifth element, unless you count energy, but —"

"I know," you agree, exhausted. "I know."

"Then what?" Korra demands, sounding as flabbergasted as she looks.

You take a deep breath, wearily replying, "Swordbending."

Korra is frozen for a moment, maybe in shock, maybe in disbelief. Then she bursts out laughing, bright and cool as snow crunching underfoot, until it dawns on her that maybe you weren't actually joking. "Wait, really?" she asks incredulously. "He actually wanted to — to teach me? Why didn't he just team up with Katara? Spirits, it would've been so much fun to have a swordmaster around."

"You told me you have to learn the elements in order, Zuko," you say in a poor imitation of my voice. It's been so long, you've almost forgotten it. "He didn't want to influence your bending, or distract you from your role as Avatar, or so I assume."

Korra huffs. "Sounds an awful lot like he did tell you things, then," she mutters indignantly.

You shrug. "Not in so many words. He said a lot without ever saying it." That wistful slant of your mouth softens into something closer to melancholy. "When you're with someone as long as I was with Sokka, you learn to read between the lines. We had our own language, in a way."

"But if you suspected, why didn't you say anything? Why not encourage him?"

There's a sadness in your smile, an ache in your eyes. "Because, young Avatar," you say gently, "you always think you'll have more time."

[kiwiana-writes]

Fic Pride Friday

Thank you to the fabulous @rmd-writes for the tag! As always, though, with 239 fanworks on AO3, this is a beast of a task lmfao.

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

This got long (and I'm like... actively trying not to Feel Bad™️ about that), so four fandoms' worth of snippets under the cut!

Tagging: @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise

@dumbpeachjuice @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @whimsymanaged

And, of course, an open tag to whoever wants to play!

Red White & Royal Blue

What a beautiful tone aka introspective rimming:

Henry has touched Alex in a thousand different ways since he shook the hand of a beautiful boy with a yellow ipê-amarelo in his pocket and fell in love, so he doesn’t quite understand why he’s trembling as he rolls them both until Alex is on his back, hair spread out on the pillow, lips parted slightly and eyes filled with trust as Henry settles on top of him. With his arms bracketing Alex’s shoulders, Henry places a hand on Alex’s jaw and pours all the love and pride that’s been coursing through his veins since Alex delivered his speech into a deep kiss, his tongue running along Alex’s bottom lip, coaxing it further open. The noise Alex makes in response is devastating. He’s a live wire, arching up into Henry’s touch in a way that is somehow both entirely nonsexual and an unbelievable turn on. Alex moves like he’s trying to crawl inside Henry’s skin, letting out soft moans and shivering gasps that burrow their way between Henry’s fourth and fifth ribs and carve out a place for themselves there, somewhere only Alex has ever reached.

All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers, the coffee shop 5+1 where Alex is so hot it very literally makes Henry stupid:

“How can I do you today?” Bollocksing, buggering fuck. Henry’s going to have to migrate to Tristan Da Cunha. Actually, while that’s the most remote place he knows of, he’s also fairly certain they’re a British Overseas Territory and therefore speak English, which isn’t particularly helpful in his current predicament. He’ll brainstorm, though he expects that the long and sordid history of global British colonisation is really not going to be his friend here. Walking Wet Dream blinks slowly—once, twice—before his face splits into a wide grin. “Tempting fucking offer, sweetheart.” A tongue peeks out to wet a pair of plump lips, which only provides Henry with some extremely vivid ideas for what else might look good between those same lips, and oh Christ, if he actually gets hard underneath this hideous apron he’ll have to lock himself in his own basement. The fact that he doesn’t have a basement is immaterial, really.

A Practical Arrangement, the arranged marriage AU -- tbh I'm proud of ALL of Alex's internal narration about Henry in chapter one but this is a particular favourite:

“I thought Windsor valued courtly manners?” Alex grins widely, tampering down a smirk at the way Henry’s ridiculously chiselled jaw twitches, obviously displeased at the way Alex is going off-script. “As your betrothed, surely you should be showering me with compliments as you greet me?” Henry raises an eyebrow, and looks at Alex in a way that makes him suddenly, viscerally aware of the four inches of height Henry has on him. It’s a height difference that has always put Alex on edge; it never used to be the case, Alex is pretty sure from the vague memories he has of them in their younger years, but between one meeting and the next, suddenly Henry was no longer at his eye level. “As soon as I find something to compliment, I assure you I shall do so.” Alex almost laughs; that was funny. Rude and untrue, but funny. It’s a shocking amount of personality for Henry to display. “Back in Texas, they extol my many virtues, Your Royal Highness,” he drawls, pointedly ignoring June’s scoff. “Do you need me to give you a list?” “I’m sure they do,” Henry says gravely, but there’s a flicker of something at the corner of his mouth that could almost be a smirk. There’s a long pause before he adds: “…in Texas.” Alex’s jaw drops before he can stop it. That absolute fucker.

Kinda think that I might be his type, the Alex and Bea fake dating fic that blew up in a way I wasn't expecting but am forever grateful for; I'm proud of this whole damn fic but this line made me get up and walk away from my computer after writing it lmao:

“Don’t worry, though.” He winks at Bea, tampering down a grin at the way she bites her lip as she realises whatever he’s about to say is at serious risk of making her laugh. “We’re not going to wait until I’m out of school to start popping out great-grandbabies for you. I wanna be papi for real, not just to my little honeypot here, if you know what I mean.” The sharp clatter of Mary’s teacup against her saucer thankfully drowns out the choked wheezing sound from Bea’s throat; Alex only risks glancing at Bea for a moment, just enough to realise she’s fighting for her life not to burst out laughing. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up before he sounds like he’s reading lines from a terribly scripted and vaguely racist porno.

Puck It, the college hockey AU with my favourite analogy I've ever written:

Alex is aware that he might be bisexual in the same way he’s aware that he might be allergic to cats; there have been a few brief interactions to make him think it’s probably true, but so far it hasn’t had any impact on his life, so he hasn’t really had a reason to look into it and find out for sure. Now, faced with Henry’s clavicle and the sudden, vivid mental image of sinking his teeth into it, he’s not sure how theoretical it is anymore.

Handprints in wet cement, the 5+1 celebration of Henry's Oxford Slut Phase that is just so important to me:

“It’s not.” Alex’s fingers flex a little, digging into Henry’s skin. “It’s— you had all these experiences, and sometimes I can’t believe you want to share them all with me. That you’ll just tell me about them, and if it’s something we’re both into, we can just… go for it. It means a lot. You know that, right?” Henry blinks at him. If he’s honest, he’s never really understood Alex’s eagerness to hear about Henry’s uni hookups; Henry himself, while not bothered by Alex’s own past, has never felt any particular need to seek out stories about it either. He’d just assumed it was another facet of Alex’s insatiable need to understand things; he hadn’t realised it was important.

I've carried this song in my mind, the Arthur-from-beyond-the-grave fic, have one of the many MANY passages that made me cry to write lmfao:

You don’t need to find Orion, Arthur wants to tell him. I’m in every constellation, in your heart, in your soul. I’m here. I’m always here. But Henry can’t hear him.

Schitt's Creek

Wander Where They Will, aka the swans fic:

It felt like only a moment later that something woke him, though the pitch-black room made it obvious it had been several hours since he dozed off. It had been so long since he was in such close proximity to other people that David didn’t realise what he was hearing, at first. The gasp that rang out in the silence made his eyes snap open and his body tense up, and there was a thump and a high-pitched, muffled moan before the realisation slammed into him. He shifted in the bed, trying to block out the sounds out of a sense of… privacy, he supposed, or decorum. That must be why his stomach was clenching, so tight he could barely breathe. Patrick, it seemed, approached lovemaking the way David has seen him approach everything else—quiet, determined, methodical. All the noises coming from their corner of the cottage seemed to be Rachel’s; only a rhythmic panting betrayed Patrick’s part in the process. Even at the end, he barely made a sound. David couldn’t help thinking, as silence filled the cottage and pulled him backwards into sleep, that it was a terrible shame; that everyone deserved the kind of pleasure that rushed through them, untamed and uncontrollable.

Femslash February 2021, where I decided one entry needed to not only be a drabble (100 words exactly) like every other day's prompt, but ALSO a sonnet:

A princess resides in a castle fair Who Stevie beholds when sneaking ashore— With aquamarine eyes and golden hair, She’s all that Stevie is so longing for. If she had legs, or the princess a tail, Perhaps Stevie could be part of her world— But fate's harsh currents their union assails, Separating them with an eddy's whirl. So Stevie lingers, and watches, and dreams About a union between sea and land, Wishing it weren't as complex as it seems For them to lie together on the sand. But unbeknownst, a princess dreams, too— Of a raven-haired mermaid, pure and true.

And all the rest's illusion, the fic where Patrick works through his feelings about the word queer and every single comment made me cry:

And that’s really the crux of the issue, because it’s not that he’s uncomfortable in his sexuality. If he was, that would be easier to explain — right from the start, David never put a label onto him. Patrick was the one who’d whispered I’m gay into the sliver of space between them that night at Stevie’s, and David had just given him the same easy smile and nod that Patrick’s sure he would have received if instead his declaration had been I’m bi or I’m pan or I don’t know right now. His discomfort is more of a nagging, deep-seated fear that he’s not entitled to queer; that because he’s never been called a slur or worried about whether or not it was safe to kiss his partner in public or even come out to his parents, the word isn’t his to reclaim.

I haven't met the new me yet, the fic where I just dragged everyone onto the Jake/Rachel train with me by force, no I don't care that they never met in canon:

Despite herself, her eyes keep finding her way back to one of the pool players. He’s tall and well-built, with a close-cropped beard; he carries himself easily, joking with his friend, the flannel shirt stretching across his back as he lines up his next shot. When he stands up after sinking the ball easily, he turns around too quickly for Rachel to pretend she was looking elsewhere and their eyes meet. The smile he gives her isn’t quite cocky, though it’s close; it’s just confident, and confidence has always done something for her. She smiles back before picking up her beer, draining the last of it and trying not to grin around the neck of the bottle when his eyes drop to her throat as she does. She’d forgotten how good it can feel, to flirt with a stranger across a… okay, this isn’t exactly a crowded room, but still. Across a room. She doesn’t make any secret of watching as the guy and his friend finish up the game, the one she’s watching sinking the black easily with several of the stripes still on the table, and he hands his cue to his friend before striding over to the bar and leaning over to get the bartender’s attention.

Meet me out at the end of my rope, aka angstapalooza. The outline @ships-to-sail gave me for the end of chapter three just read "David leaves after possibly the most tender but heart wrenching kiss they’ve ever had, that’s ever been written, ever, in the history of written kissing" and then I had to... write that???

Patrick puts the box down gently before he holds his hand out. When David places the key in his palm Patrick wraps his fingers around David’s, their palms pressed together. Despite everything, it still feels like coming home; before he quite realises what he’s doing he presses Patrick back into the doorframe, his free hand wrapping around Patrick’s neck as he pours all the emotion swirling around inside him into one final kiss. Patrick, for his part, tugs David in close, his fingers winding through David’s hair as he shakes under David’s touch. When David finally pulls away he can see Patrick’s cheeks are wet with tears, and he knows his are too. He doesn’t know if they’re his own or Patrick’s or both. Patrick stares at him, his tone helpless. “You’re the love of my life, David Rose.” David closes his eyes as his resolve almost breaks. When he opens them again, Patrick’s face is blurry and indistinct in front of him as he tries not to let more tears fall. “No one is ever going to love me the way you did.” The words are choked out, but when Patrick opens his mouth to reply David shakes his head to stop him. “But no one ever lied to me like you did, either.”

How much love will you happily take -- I apparently awakened a humiliation kink in multiple people with this one and I will never not be proud of that 🤣

“No, that’s not— it’s not for lack of trying.” David being so kind about this is making it ten times harder to spit the words out and he drops his gaze, picking at Stevie’s faded bedspread so he doesn’t have to see the look in David’s eyes. He can feel the all-too-familiar crackle of humiliation crawling up his spine, knows his embarrassment is clear on his face, and it makes his throat tighten and his stomach clench and his cock twitch and he hates it, loves it, wants to poke at it like a bruise until it consumes him. “It’s been, um, a size issue?” There’s a beat, and then David is placing a gentle finger under his chin and turning Patrick to face him. His face is warm and open and Patrick likes him so much it’s kind of terrifying; he desperately needs this night not to end up another disaster.  “That,” David says, voice soft, “is only an issue if we make it an issue. And I don’t plan on making it an issue.”

Wearing glass slippers, I got my Chucks, the Stevie/Alexis tattoo/flower shop AU my beloved:

“Did people send you flowers when your aunt passed away?” Alexis asks pointedly.  “Yeah.” She doesn’t say, It was a huge pain in the ass, actually, because I had to throw them all out when they died, but from the look Alexis is giving her at least some of that must show on her face.  “Congratulations and commiserations,” she says slowly. “That’s when everyone wants to give flowers: births, deaths, weddings, anniversaries. It’s like, human nature or whatever. There’s something…” she takes a deep breath. “It’s a sign of trust, I think. To be a tiny part of someone’s biggest moments like that. Even if just from the sidelines.” Stevie has tattooed children’s names and wedding bands, handprints and pawprints and important dates. She’s never thought about it quite like that before. “I get that,” she murmurs. 

Great Acoustics, aka the cast did a Zoom thing in-character during Covid and had a throwaway line to justify David and Patrick not being in the same room and I just entered a fugue state and wrote porn about it in like an hour:

They make it ten days before their first noise complaint, which is frankly about nine days longer than David expected. They’ve been worse than usual, to be fair, with something as simple as a lockable door apparently now an aphrodisiac to both of them. Patrick goes about twelve shades of red when the official notice is pushed under their door, and then the pillow makes a reappearance.  It’s all very fucking hot, actually, seeing buttoned-up, in-control Patrick reduced to a whimpering, begging, uncontrollable mess. Eventually, David manages to convince him that if something must go in his mouth during sex, there are several better options. No, not that. Well, obviously, sometimes that.

A focused moment made, kinkverse part one that I very much intended to be a oneshot lmfao RIP

For a few moments, the only sound is their combined harsh breathing as they recover. Almost before David realises what’s happening he’s being pulled gently to his feet, and then Patrick is framing David’s face in his hands and kissing him soundly. And David’s been kissed a lot during a scene, and a few times before one, but never once has someone kissed him in a sex club after they’ve already come. He lets out a startled but not unhappy yelp and Patrick takes the opportunity to plunge his tongue into David’s now-open mouth, chasing the taste of himself, making them both groan. Finally Patrick releases him with one last, almost chaste, kiss. He drops one hand but leaves the other on David’s cheek, gazing carefully at him, his face soft and open. “I’ve never done that before, with a guy,” Patrick confesses after a moment of silence.  David raises an eyebrow, quirks a lip. “The flogging or the blowjob?” “Uh,” Patrick scratches the back of his head as he flushes slightly. “Both? But also, um.” His eyes flicker down to David’s lips and back up, and David gives a soft little Oh of understanding.  “Baby dom and baby gay, huh?”

Your heart is keeping time with me, the 50 First Dates AU that I think has the best ending I've ever written? So, uh, spoilers-ish, I guess:

This isn’t a romantic comedy. There will be no miraculous, medically impossible recovery. Every morning for the rest of his life, David will wake up and have to be told that he has a husband he doesn’t recognise; a husband who loves him. But after he’s been told, Patrick will set out to prove it to him, with laughter and music and patient understanding. And because love is so much more than conscious memory, David will go to sleep each night in Patrick’s arms, safe and secure and content. Even though it’s not a film or a fairytale, they will still live happily ever after.

Other

We always walked a very thin line, aka the fic I furiously spite-wrote in three hours after watching Happiest Season lmfao:

When they were little, they were convinced if they practised enough they could develop some sort of psychic link; talk to each other over long distances without tying up the phone lines their dads always used for important business calls. They gave up eventually, but Riley finds herself desperately wishing for the talent now. Come on, Harper. Be braver for her than you were for me. “She’s lying!” The words burst hysterically out of Harper’s mouth, and Riley’s heart sinks.

We knew we were the fortunate ones, because obviously I watched episode 3 of The Last Of Us and immediately started writing, what do you take me for?

He knows that the last four years have been kinder to him than to almost anyone else; he also knows that he doesn’t look like those men in the magazines, the ones he used to drive thirty miles out of his way to buy, shoulders hunched and not making eye contact with the store clerk in case he found himself subjected to judgement — or worse, conversation.

[abysskeeper]

Today has been shitty, and I have no idea when I'm going to get the chance to work on this again, so here's a snippet of the act 2 Gale x Nox angst I'm proud of.

*********

“What do you want of me, Nox’ani?!”

“I want you to live!!!”

The area they were in was forested and not particularly cavernous, but her scream echoed around him in beautiful, torturous repetition. It reverberated through him, shook him, stilled him as every last spark of his frustration calmed at her declaration. She stood across from him, her pacing finally stopped by the very same enormity. Her chest heaved, her hands flexed at her sides, and her jaw started clenching and unclenching in a desperate bid to keep her composure the longer they stared at each other.

She did not hold.

Nox crumbled. He watched in excruciatingly slow motion as the dwindling flames of her anger burned out completely only to be replaced with their true kindling—despair. Tears returned to the edges of her pretty violet eyes, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth after it trembled just once. Her gaze dropped from his before she turned away from him completely, submitting to defeat.

“I want you to live, Gale,” she repeated softly.

Of course she did. That was what she had been saying from the start, that she wanted him to live. That he didn’t need to die. That it would be a waste of a brilliant mind and a beautiful soul. And he knew it, something in him had read between the lines of all the words she had spoken and yet he never comprehended how deeply her desire ran. But of course she wanted him to live, of course she did.

His gaze traced over her frame, nearly collapsed in on herself as she released a few, shuddering breaths in an attempt to recollect herself. After a moment, she turned back to face him, and her eyes met his again with a shine of desperate, despondent honesty. With blinding clarity, he realized the answer to their problem was strikingly simple.

“Then ask it of me.”

Her lips parted as if to speak, but all that came out was a small, strangled cry. Nox shook her head quickly—violently—and her arms came up to wrap around herself. “I will not,” she breathed out and shook her head again. “I shouldnot. I-I-I…I cannot,” she choked out as her tears finally spilled over.

He took a step towards her, and then another when she did not shy away from him. He came to a stop in front of her, and though her gaze dropped from his again, he tentatively reached out a hand towards her with the intent to wipe away her tears.

“I…I cannot be expected to breathe life back into a man resigned to his fate.”

Gale faltered. She…was correct. That…was an incredibly unfair expectation.

Nox swallowed and shook her head again before turning up to face him. “I cannot ask a good man to take the selfish route, and I…and I…”

She blew out a long breath. Before he could cup her cheek, she reached out and grabbed both of his hands. She did nothing further, just held his hands in the space between him and her. She took another deep breath and forced herself to meet his stare. “And I cannot ask you to condemn your soul for me.”

The bitter, biting truth was that she could. She could very easily ask that of him, and he would follow her desire in a heartbeat. It was a bitter, biting truth that he realized far too late in their endeavors, but one he found blindingly simple now. Nothing else mattered but her. There was nothing he wouldn’t do in this moment so long as it appeased her and stopped her crying. And if that was what she wanted, he wished that she would ask, but the bitterest truth was that the reason she could ask that of him and he would readily agree was the very same reason she never, ever would.

Gale sighed and detangled one of his hands from hers. Gently, he cupped her cheek finally, swiping his thumb over the small stream of tears running down her face. His eyes searched hers, patiently awaiting her to speak anything else if she needed. When it became apparent she had run out of words, he sighed again.

“It is already yours to do as you please, Nox’ani,” he whispered gently. “You should know that.”

“Gale…” She squeezed her eyes shut, almost pained, and swallowed roughly.

He lightly brushed down her cheek until he moved his hand to tilt up her chin, his thumb lazily tracing over the outline of her mouth. Her lips parted with a shuddering breath, and her glassy eyes cracked open to look at him in question. Gale hoped she understood his intention, given how similar it was to what he had done a few nights ago on the frozen river…moments before the Orb ruined it.

“And if it is not something you desire,” he continued, just as soft, “speak on it now, and we shall lay it to rest permanently.”

Nox didn’t speak. Her gaze flickered from his eyes and down his face to his mouth before snapping back. She bit her lip, indecisive, and he felt the miniscule shake of her head against his hand. “It…it does not feel proper for me to claim…”

“I assure you it is,” he breathed.

Before she could protest and allow for her own lack of self-worth to refute him, he surged forward, pressing his lips to hers in a show of certainty. It was how he would have liked to have kissed her a few nights ago—how he should have kissed her a few nights ago, Orb be damned.