#considering at least two of my wips are adult

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 26/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR TWENTYFIVE

CHAPTER TWENTYSIX

                “You cannot eat your weight in ice-cream. It’ll kill you.”

                “Stronzata. Worse I’ll be is sick. I just thought that he’d maybe come here…”

                Vi lets out a sigh and drops onto the sofa beside him, forces him to shuffle over so she can snuggle into his side and she reaches for the spoon and takes a mouthful of ice-cream. He doesn’t both protesting, he’s already gone through one tub and he’s already starting to feel sick, but it’s giving himself something else to focus on. He isn’t heart broken so much as he is disappointed.

                “You did say he wasn’t the one.”

                “Well… no. But I still sort of hoped he’d maybe move here.”

                “America might be home to you, but it’s…”

                “Yeah. Okay. Why would he want to uproot his entire life and leave his family behind.”

                “Not to mention not having a job here. And his English sucks.”

                “Ugh. I know. I know okay? I was just…”

                “A naïve optimist?”

                “Apparently.”

                “Hmm. Well. You have the heart or a romantic at least, even if it’s the only Italian thing about you.”

                “Fuck off…” Bradley laughs, shoving into her and she grins back and he guesses she’s done what she set out to achieve, and that was to cheer him up.

…            …            …

                “Fucks sake Leonardo, what did those onions do to you?”

                “Nothing, I’m just…”

                “Missing your boo?”

                “Fuck off Vi.”

                “That’s not a no.”

                “I’m… wound a little tight. Yeah. I’m missing him.”

                “Missing something, that’s for sure,” one of the sous chef mutters and Bradley shoots her a glare and Vi snorts but continues in Italian.

                “Yeah, no shit. Not just him but the sheer amount of sex you got used to while you were shacked up. Everyone’s been getting it in the neck and have sent me to be the sacrificial lamb.”

                “What?”

                “You know phone sex exists right?”

                “I can’t ask him to have phone sex with me!”

                “Why not? It’s not like you two haven’t had plenty of in person sex.”

                “He hasn’t raised it. I don’t want to…”

                “Oh my god, how are both as idiotic as each other? Have you considered that he’s going to be just as horny as you?”

                “Yeah, but it’s not like he can easily sneak off and jerk off whenever the mood strikes him!”

                “Like you can? Send him a series of messages or pictures so when he does have a moment, he can and then maybe he’ll return the favor. Or you know. Be an adult and fucking talk about it. Cazzo!”

                Bradley looks down at the pulverized mess of onions. There is finely diced and then there’s the slurry he’s created in front of him and he pulls a face and sets it aside. He can use it in a soup. Vi does have a point though and he guesses he’s going to need to see what steps he can put in place and maybe see Jake sooner than he thought.

…            …            …

                Having Admiral Kerner know his name is unnerving, although it does wonders for his reputation, it’s not like he’s related to Jake at all. Plus those he considers sort-of friends are happy to share the baked goods Leo has taken to sending about every four to six weeks. It’s after the second package that Jake takes the time to look up the 1986 Top Gun class with Nick Bradshaw, curious to know who else might be lurking in Leo’s past.

                Holy shit.

                The knowledge that Leo knows one admiral is surprising, but the idea he might know more is mind boggling. There are some absolute legends in this class and he wonders exactly how many have kept tabs on Leo. Clearly Admiral Kerner considers him some sort of family, but there are others, like Maverick Mitchell and Iceman Kazansky and Warlock Bates. Slider Kerner is right there and damn Jake wishes he could ask him how he got his callsign. Obviously Leo would much rather have his dad around, but he has people willing to step into the space left. He knows all about Leandro and Silvia, and Vi and all of Leo’s extended Italian family. He knows there is a godfather he doesn’t talk to, and an Uncle Tom he does, although Leo’s only mentioned him once in passing, face twisted with something Jake couldn’t place.

                Three admirals from one Top Gun class though, that seems disproportionally high, but he also guesses with the ages of everyone and their skill sets it’s maybe not uncommon. He thinks about Leo’s godfather, the person who pulled Leo’s USNA papers and sent him to fleeing to another continent. He frowns and wonders how you pull someone’s papers, do you just have to be their legal guardian? Or was it a favor called into someone higher up in the chain of command. Leo hadn’t said his godfather was in the service, but Jake is starting to suspect he might have been, even if he maybe isn’t now and he studies the photo closely, wonders if any of the men in the photo are Leo’s godfather.

…            …            …

                It’s been a few months now and work is insane and he knows he’s wound up, but he also hasn’t had the time, energy or, frankly, courage, to raise the idea of maybe sexting or sending slightly more risqué pictures. He knows his temper is shorter than usual, and he’s trying his utmost to keep it in check, although when he’s being filmed and they want the drama he lets it fly, glad to have the excuse. He ignores Vi’s eyerolls and is apologetic when he snaps. He counting down in days now to when he will next see Jake, a trip to Japan where Jake will be having some shore leave and he’s doing his best to keep it a surprise but he cannot contain his excitement. Vi has worked her magic and he’s got four days of filming a guest spot on one of their cooking competition shows, after which he’ll be able to see Jake for two days.

                Two days is nothing, not really. But it is still better than nothing and it’s definitely better than waiting another three months before Jake’s deployment ends. Because Bradley knows Jake has other people in his life, that as much as he might like to monopolize all of his time when he’s not working, it’s not a realistic expectation to have. So he will work his ass off now so when Jake is on leave he too can be too. Sort of. He’s not sure if he’ll ever not be thinking about cooking.

                The sauce initiative has taken off, and he’s insisted on any profits that Maria was going to send his way are instead directed to the research around early onset dementia, which had made Maria call him a bastard, but he’s sure it’s because he’d maybe made her cry. He doesn’t need the money though, and while his signature is on the bottles it’s definitely a joint operation, although they use a local commercial kitchen and small-scale bottling plant, there are definitely limited editions because Maria refuses to use any tomatoes not grown on their farm. Bradley’s more than okay with that, as long as Jake continues getting his own supply.

                After his conversation with Maria a few weeks ago he’d found himself in a group chat with all of Jake’s sisters, which has been a great source of childhood photos and stories, but also sharing news or anecdotes about their day-to-day lives and Bradley wonders what the hell he did to have yet another family just open themselves up and include him so effortlessly in their lives. He’s well aware that they’re doing it because of his relationship with Jake, but when a package arrives of pictures that Jake’s nieces and nephews have drawn for him, a painting done by Olivia of Jake working picking tomatoes, handmade wooden utensils that Maria admits to making in her spare time… None of them had to do any of that and it makes him both grateful and also miss Jake’s family almost as much as he misses Jake. Another reason why he’s happy to go and spend time with Jake at his home.

[cappulcino]

Navigation post / Masterlist

Hello, everyone! My name is Ash (though you can also call me Samael), and I am a storyteller in the making. I have always been reluctant to share my work, but in the spirit of self-improvement and because I actually love writing so much, I recently decided to take the leap.

All of my works will be posted here, as well as on AO3 (though only accessible if you're logged into your account).

Requests now open!

My requests are currently open for ficlet prompts. It would really help me get back in the mood for writing and then maybe I can also finish my WIPs (see list below).

What I will write:

Character x character

Character x OC

Character x reader

Almost all genres

Adult content I feel comfortable with

What I will not write (unless maybe you pay me? 👀):

Any pairing including a real person (no actor x reader or shipping real celebrities together)

Adult x minor interactions other than parent/child or hurt/comfort settings

Pairings with two characters played by the same actor (I personally don't like it)

Graphic depiction of extreme violence

Extreme sexual kinks unfit for public viewing

Anything in a style I deem too different from mine/the style I want to develop

Anything so personal in a character x reader request that nobody else could enjoy the fic

(List to be completed later)

You can check the fandoms I currently write for on my profile in my bio. They are in "order", meaning they go from most to least interested in as of today and/or from most to least "knowledgeable". If the fandom you're looking for is not in my profile, it's no use asking; I either don't want to write for it or don't know anything about it.

Fanfictions will be under #cappulcino writes. Answered asks will be under #cappulcino replies. (For lack of a better free tag)

Masterlist

The Sandman

Seven Days Til Fall (Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader) Posted, complete

The Eveningstar (Dreamingstar / Dream of the Endless x Lucifer Morningstar) Unpublished WIP, preparation phase

The Devil Wears Prada

Broken Souls and Apple Pies (Mirandy / Miranda Priestly x Andrea Sachs) Unpublished WIP, 45% completed

Wednesday

Animi Metamorphosis (Larissa Weems x Shapeshifter!Teacher!OC) Unpublished WIP, preparation phase

Okja

Redemption (Lucy Mirando x Male OC) Unpublished WIP, 1% completed – collab with @magnoliamei

You'll also find short summaries of my current WIPs and ideas here.

Don't hesitate to check them out and show your support for the fic(s) you would like me to finish and publish!

My edits

Good Omens X Hayloft II

Sandman crack vid

Taglist

Comment under this post to be added to the taglist.

And while you're here...

Please consider signing this silly petition to try to get Gwendoline Christie back on Wednesday as Larissa Weems!

Note: the line dividers I use in my fics are by @strangergraphics-archive

[the-golden-comet]

✨Writeblr Interview✨

Thank you for tagging me @nczaversnick , @phynewrites , @mrbexwrites , and @foyle-writes-things ! Appreciate the heck out of y’all ���✨

Short stories, novels, or poems?

Novels for sure, to read and to write! ✨

What genre do you prefer reading?

Same ones as I write—BL Romantasies, high fantasies, low fantasies, adult fiction, Slice of Life, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Fluff/Smut 💫✨

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

Little of column A, little of column B. I think a healthy balance between the two makes for some great planned (and unplanned) adventures! 💛✨

What music do you listen to while writing?

So funny thing….I don’t listen to music when I write. But, my favorite writing white noise is gameplay of Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Dead by Daylight, or Friday the 13th without commentary, played at a very low volume. Something about a revving chainsaw sparks my motivation to write (or maybe it’s fear? 🤔)

Favorite books/movies?

Anything Disney +mutuals’s stories ✨

Any current WIPs?

So far finishing up YWIMC before I move on to something big….👀✨I have a lot of stories on the back-burner and am focusing on one at a time 💛

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be?

Very comfortable gray-knit turtleneck or hoodie, comfy pants, stylin’ shoes, and my bag of holding (numerous things. Backpack I carry around that has all my daily necessities ✨)

Create a character description of yourself:

Okay picture Link from The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword. Got it? Okay. Make him gay. Give him some cartilage piercings. Maybe a few eye bags due to the insomnia. There you go. ✨

Oh also make him chaotic good. Because the world needs more kindness, and I will give the world more kindness. The world does not have a choice in the matter. 🌏💫✨

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

Considering what I write? Absolutely not.

Are you kill happy with your characters?

Depends on the character and the narrative. I like happy endings, but sometimes a character must die. 🤷‍♂️

Coffee or Tea while writing?

While I write? Water. While I wake up? Coffee. While I get ready for bed? Tea.

Slow or fast writer?

Fast writer, slow motivator. Once I get on a groove I can usually go on 5-6 hour writing binges at a time. I just have to get there first with all of my projects….🫠✨

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from?

Myself mainly, and my friends and mutuals secondly. I’ve been writing for myself since I started making fanfictions as a teenager, so I’ll never NOT make stories for myself. Gaining a supportive community on writeblr has given me an extra boost of motivation, because now I feel like I’m writing for myself AND for my friends and mutuals ✨

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

The person that somehow finds themself in harrowing situations only to stumble my way out of the problem through sheer coincidence and bullshit. Or a bard. Probably a bard. Maybe both of these things 🤔✨

Most fav book cliche:

Two dumb idiots (/positive) go on an epic quest and learn about each other in the meanwhile. (See: The Emperor’s New Groove)

Least favorite cliche:

One-trick pony characters that lack depth, or exist just to check off a box.

Favorite scene to write?

Anything involving the two main protags.

Reason for writing?

My own personal enjoyment, and to share my crazy mind with the world for entertainment and create joy and inspiration to a community of genius minds (You. I’m talking about you. Yeah, YOU. Keep writing, keep inspiring, and keep on keeping on) 💖✨

Thank you again! I’m going to tag (no pressure): @tragedycoded , @wyked-ao3 , @gioiaalbanoart , @sableglass , @words-after-midnight , @saturnine-saturneight , @marlowethelibrarian , @davycoquette , @lychhiker-writes , @glasshouses-and-stones , @aintgonnatakethis , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @theink-stainedfolk , @the-letterbox-archives , @ominous-feychild , @mysticstarlightduck , @finickyfelix , @autism-purgatory , @moltenwrites , @rivenantiqnerd , @thecomfywriter , @somethingclevermahogony , @authorcoledipalo , @houseplantblank , +open tag ✨

[imnotasuperhero]

Look into my eyes (search your soul)

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Your love for Wanda could make you go the distance and more, just to see her happy.

A/N: I know I’m a week late, BUT! March came by and I’m back to my old schedule at karate and then a friend opened her own dojo and we celebrated and if you add work to the mix.. adulting sucks, dude. I promise I’ll try to stick to weekly updates! I also have a started wip that might be posted tomorrow.

Here’s part 4. I hope you enjoy this one and it’s enough to keep your hearts hanging 🤭🤭 Enjoy!

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX

The cries could be heard through the door, so you decided to avoid the knocking and just enter Wanda’s home, feeling your heart squeeze at the scene in front of you.

Hurrying to the quietly crying woman, you took one of her babies from her hold, slowly rocking him trying to calm him down.

"Shh," you coed. "Everything is okay." Bewitching the baby in your arms, Tommy -you noticed, you looked into Wanda's green eyes, hoping she understood the hidden meaning in those words.

Sitting on the couch, you patted the place beside you, a clear indication for Wanda to follow.

The whole smoothness in which the next minutes elapsed only added to your emotional bag.

"They're asleep," Wanda sighed. "Thank you."

"It's nothing," you breathed.

You knew this silence meant some heavy chat. It wasn't usual for Wanda to be so erratic. And if it wasn't for the babies, you knew she would even be catatonic. But you also knew you couldn't force her. So you just stood there, admiring the sleeping baby in your arms, waiting for the bomb to drop.

"You were with Nat." 

The spoken words froze your respiratory system for a moment too long. That was not what you expected. 

"I was," you looked at Wanda, who refused to take her eyes off her son.

"You had sex with her."

"Since when you question what I do?" You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk hiding on your lips.

"You did." She whispered, making the wires in your brain short-circuit.

Sighing, you just sunk deep into the couch, letting the silence make its presence once again.

"Can you look at them while I shower?" Wanda asked with certain shyness that squeezed your heart.

"Of course," you nodded. "Take your time, there's no rush," you made sure your eyes locked with Wanda's, hoping she believed your words.

Looking at her go, you finally breathed out all the pent-up emotions you felt. 

"Welcome to the world," you laughed drily at the sleeping babies, admiring the ability to ignore the problems. 

If only they could talk to fill you in the blanks.

Leaving Tommy in their small crib beside his brother, you marched to the kitchen, decided to mend Wanda's heart. Or at least try. 

"Wands?" You knocked on the closed door.

"Yes." 

"I brought you tea," you maneuvered to open the door with your elbow, giving her one mug to take the baby monitor out of your pocket and placed it on the countertop. "They're fast asleep," you smiled, easing Wanda's worries.

After staring at you for a few seconds too long, Wanda hummed at the warm steam filling her nostrils. "Thank you," she mouthed.

"It's nothing," you sat down on the floor by the bathtub, just waiting.

It wasn't rare for you two to work in tandem without having to speak your needs. Much less considering the friendship that linked you both. So when you stood there by her side, she didn’t think about kicking you out -not even when she was naked, only covered by the foam in the water. 

“I’m sorry,” Wanda felt her heart squeezing at the confusion plastered all over your face. “For always dragging you into my problems.” She changed the course of her intentions. Now was not the time.

Wanda’s breath hitched when she saw you move closer, maybe too close for two best friends. And the breath she was about to exhale delayed even more at the burning feeling of your hand against her wet arm.

“Remember all those years back after your fight with Pietro under our tree?” How could she not? It was one of her favorite moments with you.

Once she nodded, you continued. “Do you remember what did I tell you?”

“Soulmates don’t necessarily have to be lovers. I’m your soulmate and we’re linked forever, even after our deaths.” Wanda remembered every single word with a smile, the warm feeling in her chest easing the pain she was feeling moments ago.

“After all these years, I still stand by my words,” you reached for her shampoo, standing up to sit at the edge of the bathtub. “Scoot forward.” 

Wanda let herself relax at the feeling of your expertised hands washing her greasy hair. God knows she had barely had time for body showers.

“You are my soulmate, Wanda.” The pause in your statement went unnoticed by Wanda for all her body felt like giving up to gravity at the massages on her scalp, drawing soft moans out of her at the feeling of floating.

“Your burdens are mine and your happiness and successes are mine, too. So don’t you ever think for one second that I won’t be by your side to help you through whatever you’re going through.”

Looking up, Wanda finally let her tears run freely at the sincerity she could see in your eyes. But before she could say anything, a cry was heard through the white small speaker by the bathroom sink.

“Think you can finish yourself?”

“It’s feeding time,” Wanda smiled. “And Y/N?” She spoke before you walked out, “Thank you.” Wanda sighed, unplucking the bathtub before opening the shower to rinse her clean hair.

Feeling the hot water washing all her worries and the sadness lingering in her heart, Wanda finished with her task, taking her time to allow herself to think about the best way to break the news to you.

She’s known you for over half her life and even though a part of her wanted to join you in whatever your plan of action could be just to make him feel a small proportion of what she was feeling, an even bigger part wanted to keep things civil for her kids’ sake.

Feeling clean, she quickly changed into her comfort clothes before joining you. No matter how bad her body ached for rest, she couldn’t leave you alone with her kids. It won’t be right.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, the cracks in her heart started to repair themselves agonizingly slowly at the sight of you quietly lulling both babies, making it seem so effortlessly as you paced around the living room’s floor.

“Nice shirt,” you smirked and Wanda looked down at her body, inspecting the clothing. Oh.

“It’s comfy,” she shrugged away the feeling of her cheeks heating up. Walking towards you, she picked Tommy up as she leaned towards your shoulder to kiss Billy’s head. “I’m ready,” Wanda locked her eyes with yours, hoping you understood. After all, you couldn’t do much with the babies sleeping.

“Vision left,” Wanda sighed after making herself comfortable on her couch.

“For how long?” You asked and Wanda smiled sadly at the confusion in your voice.

“No,” Wanda paused looking for the right words, trying her best to keep it steady. “He left us.”

The confusion on your face shifted into a shocked one just to be replaced by anger.

The change in your pupils lighted up something akin to fear in Wanda. It was very rare for you to get this way, and she thanked her babies for preventing you to break hell free.

“That fucker,” you growled, fidgeting uncomfortably.

Her tongue itched to speak, but she decided to stay quiet until your breathing returned to a normal rate, all while bracing into the baby in her arms. Her hold almost unbreakable, trying to keep the small hope that had been slipping through her fingers for a while, now.

“What was his lame excuse?” You asked, breaking the pregnant silence.

“He… He said he couldn’t do this. That all this chaos was hard for him and-”

“Stop. Please, stop before I go chasing him to kill him.” Your eyes closed trying to calm your erratic breaths and Wanda could only fight harder to run from the darkness chasing her. But when you opened your eyes, all Wanda saw was hope.

Granted, it lasted just a few milliseconds for it disappeared as fast as it came, but the pang in Wanda’s chest signaled something growing inside her.

Opening your arms, Wanda choked at the silent invitation.

“I know you can’t see it right now, but you’re better off without him,” your voice came soothing, but it only served to break her. Her eyes burning with every shedded tear.

Wanda snuggled impossibly closer into your warmth, allowing her body to blend against yours as you secured your free arm around her shoulders, as if shielding her from the bad things of life.

And just like the pain in her mixed with anger, a new feeling she seemed to ignore, lighted up like a torch in a pitch-black cave, clearing away the darkness that had settled around her beating heart.

As always, coments and reblogs are highly appreciated (:

Taglist: @summergeezburr​ @wandabear​ @red1culous​ @inluvwithfictionalwomen​ @aliherreraaa @kiancorpse ​ @whitewidowsbite ​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx ​ @daenerys713 ​ @swiftie1-0-1 @godamnityess ​ @marvelwomen-simp ​ @forthelesbians ​ @when-wolves-howl ​ @marvelogic ​ @cowboyboots236 @iliketozoneout​ (If you wanna be added to the taglist, just let me know! :)

[pb-dot]

WIP Anouncement: Thereafter

As I'm putting the final touch on the first draft of His Impossible Brushstrokes, I've come to realize something important about myself. I like writing, I like it a lot. Ok, not exactly a deep dark secret, that, but it has some implications as to how I'm going to do this one so I figured I should mention that up top.

The thing I came to realize is that the way things are going, I'm going to make what is hopefully one final pass on The Clockwork Boy to shine up the dialog a bit, and while editing is a fine and indeed neccesary part of writing, I have a need to keep writing-writing these days. Speaking from a purely practical standpoint, I also need some way to pace myself, as losing my mind in writing frenzies isn't doing my brain any favors.

So, with that in mind, I have decided to write and release my newest project, Thereafter, myself in the style of serial fiction. I'm going to set up a newsletter service to send my subscribers individual chapers of the series and host the backlogs on some apropriate site, looking like Cohost at the moment. After a period of outlining and writing up character bios, I plan to start at a slow but hopefully manageable clip, releasing two chapters per month, possibly ramping up to three if I find the workflow suiting me.

I don't really plan on earning any money from Thereafter at the time of writing, but considering hosting costs for the newsletter side of things, I may set up a patreon or other crowdfunding page if I ever start getting close to the 100 subscriber limit of the free plan I have my eyes on. It would be nice to get paid for this thing even if it's just the hosting costs, but honestly I just want to get the project out there and get some eyeballs on it, and if it catches on it catches on.

Thereafter is a bit of a appraising look, perhaps even deconstruction of the Portal Fantasy type of narrative, think your Narnias, your Warriors of Virtue, Your Pagemasters and what have you. In it, we meet 4 souls in their thirties who saved a secret magical land from a great evil as children, and have been struggling to make everything work in the aftermath of that. Now solidly among the ranks of the adult, these ex-heroes of legend find themselves, each in their own way, long for the magic, freedom and purpose of their adventures. When the strange wind that once whisked them away to their magical lands finally comes for them again, our heroes learn that they should have been careful about what they wish for.

The magical lands which our protagonists saved are all gone, shattered into fragments by something so vast and terrible not even the survivors could describe it, leaving the magical realms as floating pieces of flotsam and jetsam in the void between worlds. In this void, what scant few survivors there were from the calamity band together to build a refuge out of the broken pieces of their old worlds. It is to this refuge, a town called Thereafter, that our heroes arrive, learning that not only are these worlds they bled and suffered for destroyed, but they were destroyed centuries after their departure, their exploits turned into legends.

It is this legendary status that their summoners, the de facto ruling council of Thereafter, wishes to exploit. Plagued by a scarcity of resources and a truly wild variety of cultures, species and levels of magical ability, the desperate masses of Thereafter seem poised on the brink of panic and/or revolt. The council of Therafter prop up our heroes as having returned to save the world once again, hoping that their utter failure to do so will take long enough that someone will be able to come up with a better plan in the meantime. Our heroes, on their side, are ambivalent about pretending to be these larger-than-life personas that their legends have been turned into, but recognizes that their only way home is through the good will of the council, and so play along, at least until it becomes clear that Therafter's problems are far from over, and that it is impossible to rule the unwilling with clean hands and a clean conscience.

I'm pretty excited about this one. The idea of not getting to go back once I'm finished to make the style uniform is terrifying to me, and I'll have to get used to a kinda different way to pace the story, but I have decided that this is a good way to keep myself writing while leaving enough room in my schedule to keep the editing more or less consistent. Also, I can make it every bit as queer and political as I want to, so that's nice. Worst case scenario, it'll be a fun distraction while I work on getting The Clockwork Boy published.

A more detailed plot synopsis and some talk about the characters will follow at a later date.

[jorisjurgen]

The Crepin-Lore Manifesto.

Part 3: Painful History

[PART 1]

[PART 2]

So, was Kerubim Crepin a good brother?

A bad brother?

For Atcham, it doesn't seem like his vendetta is due to being mistreated by Kerubim. It's not even subtext.

He's perfectly aware he's just using Kerubim to have someone to blame.

But it doesn't necessarily mean that Kerubim wasn't a bad brother.

As we've seen in The Wheel Of Fate... At the time of their childhood, he hated Atcham, viciously.

Or, he was scared of being othered, like him.

My personal pet theory, is that Atcham couldn't take life at the orphan temple anymore, being bullied for his differences.

Kerubim watched, and did nothing about any of this. They were just children, after all.

If Kerubim suffered so much from spending a single day in his brother's shoes, is it really that hard to imagine what Atcham's life was like?

Atcham lost his family too, just like Kerubim.

Nobody ever helped him. And in the end, he was probably treated as if it was his own fault, that he was mistreated.

This sort of thing would fit in, with his characterization.

He's not a bad person, just embittered by his life.

Even as an adult, he's at best treated like an ugly, neurotic freak. Despite his status as a terrifying assassin, he is not respected, just feared.

And being so old, he rightfully has no reason to believe that the world is better than that. Atcham doesn't have anyone in his corner.

And with how Kerubim, and life itself, seem to treat him, I don't blame him.

But what does Kerubim actually think about Atcham?

Because... things aren't so cut-and-dry.

Say - which character related to Kerubim looks unlike most people - enough to, perhaps, be bullied for it - and has lost their parents?

...Yeah. You know what I'm insinuating.

Loving two Black Sheep, and Parallels

...One of the things I never addressed in the last post, is the fact that besides guilt borne of thinking he took Julith's life...

Kerubim carries guilt for Atcham, too. Despite the way he often talks about him, he feels protective of his little brother.

Even the fact that he made sure that Joris wouldn't have issues with his body like how Atcham had, saying that he himself is just some guy, while Joris is special, says a lot.

Seeing an orphan, who was sure to take the brunt of that hatred upon himself if anyone knew his mother was Julith, and who looked so different from others...

How could he not think they were similar? How could he ever not want to protect him?

When Kerubim is being vulnerable, all the insults he has for Atcham dissipate.

I like to think that both Indie and Atcham were brothers that had ruined his life, yet made it worth living.

But in the end, all that's left is, well, the knowledge that he can't fix this, and the desire to, at the very least, have Joris by his side.

...The only reason Atcham ever listened to Joris was their similarity, as well as Joris's age and convictions.

But the only reason he gave family and hope a second chance - is someone finally stepping in to protect him.

And, of all the things Kerubim ever said about Atcham, only this scene really matters.

Aaaand, this draws my insane, three-part compilation of esoterically connected infodumping about the most insane family of Krosmoz to a close. Can you tell I wrote 2 giant character study fics about them yet? Can you feel that I have like 30 wip ideas in my head still?

This is just my thoughts about Atcham and Kerubim, so you know that thoughts about Joris buzz in my brain like bees - especially considering ecaflip demigods keep their memories, and what it means for this trio's relationship. Maybe one day I'll write a post about that too, but that day is NOT today.

These three love each other so much, and I hope I could make you understand what I see in them, just a little bit, after reading this.

[suzyq31]

Thanks for the tag @kay-elle-cee! I feel like such an imposter lately since I can't seem to bring myself to write lately, at least outside of journaling.

AO3 Username: Elastic_Heart31

1. How many works do you have on A03? 15, but 2 more are hidden for now.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 765,116

3. What fandoms do you write for? So far just Harry Potter. If I was braver I would write the Before Sunrise idea I have or attempt to write a fleabag fanfic. I'm also experimenting with more original writing.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Maybe Tomorrow

Iris

It Had To Be You

Found (though currently hidden)

In Between (also hidden 😅)

Those are all Harmony, but my top Jily fic is:

At The Beginning

5. Do you respond to comments? I try my best with my ADHD brain. I truly appreciate when people take the time to let me know their thoughts.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hmm. Not sure since some haven't ended some of them yet. Maybe Plans? Since we know what happens in canon.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably It Had To Be You with it's two part epilogue of fluff.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Sigh. Yes. One of the many reasons I've lost my enthusiasm for writing Harry and Hermione fanfics.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes, though often against my better judgement haha. I have no idea what to classify it as. Maybe I'll borrow Kelsey's word and say vanilla.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not sure.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Maybe? I've had people ask, but unsure if they are posted.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, hopefully will get back to it someday!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Hmmm I've had so many over the years. The only ones I've attempted to write though have been Harmony and Jily. They've also been consistent since childhood.

Special shout out to my teenage love of Pacey and Joey from Dawson's Creek, even though adult me thinks he deserves better and that show is terrible.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? At this point it feels like all of them 🙈

16. What are your writing strengths? No clue. I've been told I write emotion well. I've also been complimented on my ability to write children realistically.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Probably grammar and sentence structure, I still feel lost a lot of the time when it comes to all of that. I earned to write in English after learning French though it's my native language, and I see how it still impacts me. Also, I tend to be the worst with over writing and then having to edit the hell out everything!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If it makes sense in the story. I've seen it work well in a lot of literary books I've read. And one scene in particular from UaS (if you know, you know).

19. First fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter. One and only (so far).

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Hmm I'm probably proudest of Maybe Tomorrow. It's one that feels personal in ways that are hard to explain. I also think I grew a lot as a writer while working on it.

In terms of Jily, I've really enjoyed my drabbles that aren't on archive. I do hope to expand on some of them someday.

Tagging: @myst867 @annonymouslyblonde @cordovabox @nodirectionhome-ao3 @glitterwitch1

Also if you feel like joining considering yourself tagged!

[chrysoula]

Aventurine WIP

(Somebody was curious.)

---

“You found my room,” Aventurine said, opening the door to Stelle’s soft knock. “How did you do that?”

Her wandering gaze focused on him. “A lucky guess? Hey… can we talk a little?”

“Of course. Make yourself comfortable, friend.” He smiled at her, and she regarded him with the same solemn intensity she’d had in their first conversation in a Reverie room. Then she walked past him and stopped in the center of the room, looking around as if she’d misplaced something. 

He closed the door and inquired, “Something amiss?” 

“It’s just… weird.” Her eyes went to his luggage and she shifted her weight uneasily. “Is there really something special about the room you gave me, or was that a joke?”

“Interesting question. What do you think?” Aventurine relaxed onto a couch, just in case she was waiting for him to sit before she did. 

No dice. She rubbed her arms as if she was cold, and said nothing, her gaze moving between spots on the carpet and spots on the couch without ever quite focusing on him.

After a moment of silence, he decided he probably wasn’t getting an answer and said lightly, “I take it you haven’t come to tell me your decision about our partnership.” 

The girl actually startled at his question, as if she’d forgotten she was in a conversation. Then she laughed, her eyes scrunching shut and her hand behind her head. The transformation was enthralling. “Oh, heh, not… exactly. I mean, I haven’t really talked to the others about what you said yet.”

He gave her another toothy smile. “I’d say take your time, but… well, try not to take more than a few days, or I’ll be… disappointed.”

“We’re meeting for breakfast tomorrow. I’ll tell them everything then.” Stelle looked around the room again. “Uh, have you seen a black dog? A statue, I mean. It has ruby eyes.” She held her hands apart to suggest it was more of a statuette.

“Ruby, eh? Sounds valuable.” Aventurine rose to his feet and circled behind Stelle. He didn’t quite put his arm around her shoulders, but only because the whites of her eyes showed when she realized that was in the cards. Instead, he fluttered a hand in an encouraging motion. “Sit down, will you? You wanted to chat, right?”

“Uh…” She took one step closer to the couch, and then stopped to inspect the carpet again. “Maybe I should just go. This is stupid.”

No way in hell was he letting her leave after such an intriguing start to her unexpected visit. But he softened the sentiment, given her skittishness. “I don’t think so. Come on, entertain me a little. I promise I won’t bite.”

Slowly she moved to the couch; stiffly she sat down. Then she mumbled something too incoherent to process.

“What was that?” Aventurine reseated himself in one of the small tea chairs, angled so he could watch her easily.

She was blushing hotly, he realized, and when she shook her head and refused to repeat herself, he had an old familiar feeling about at least part of what was going on with this visit. He considered retiring back to other subjects; could practically hear Veritas Ratio advising him to throw her out.

Instead he asked bluntly, “Miss Stelle… Would you like me to bite?”

That drew her swift glance, and flustered honesty. “No! I mean… maybe? I don’t know how this goes.” She stopped, her gaze fixed on his mouth.

Said mouth would have tightened, if he wasn’t very aware of his own tells. His curiosity at the moment outweighed other considerations, and he didn’t want to spook her yet. An uncomfortable moment or two wouldn’t interfere with business as far as he was concerned—he pretty much lived in them some days—but that wasn’t true for most people. 

He leaned forward, clasping his hands loosely. “Do you consider yourself an adult, Miss Stelle?”

She actually thought about that, which amused him despite his tension. Finally, she said, “I’m obviously not a kid, even if I was only sort of… born recently. But I’m also not an adult like Himeko and Mr. Yang are. Not like Kafka either… Silver Wolf, though… and I’m definitely more grown up than March 7th.” She chuckled. “As for Dan Heng—”

His amusement flashed to annoyance. “Ahem. All very fascinating, but I’m asking about you, friend.”

She blinked, and he knew his tone had slipped. “Why do you care? You didn’t ask about this when suggesting a business partnership.”

He held her gaze for a long, long moment before dropping his gaze to her own mouth. “Business is business and biting is biting.” Then, with tactical suavity, he let the subject drop for the moment. “Is there any particular reason you’re looking for your statuette in my room?”

“Oh! It’s not mine…. I think it may be following me around, though. Every time I get close enough to touch it, it disappears. Later it shows up again, somewhere else… I thought maybe if other people had seen it, that would mean it’s not just picking on me.”

Aventurine cautiously asked, “Was this in the Dreamscape?”

Stelle’s brow furrowed. “I’m pretty sure I saw one in my room after you and Acheron left? But… sometimes I see things other people don’t.” Her right hand lifted, nestling against her chest. An unconscious gesture, he decided, and made a mental note of it.

“Absolutely fascinating,” he told her, and meant it. “Later, we should talk about some of those things. Perhaps after I’ve traded you something of equal value for the information…” He paused delicately, just in case.

Her brow furrowed. “Uh… you already gave me some credits, though? And you gave up your room. And you told me about—”

Aventurine cut her off. “All that was in the name of our ‘friendship.’ I also told you to use me however you wanted. I don’t think you’ve done that yet.” After another delicate pause that she didn’t take advantage of, he gave her a clean way out of the conversation. “Would you like me to investigate this mysterious hound on your behalf?”

Once again she startled, as if she’d gotten distracted from the conversation by her own thoughts. “N-no. That’s all right.”

This girl. She’d been so solemn and focused during their first conversation, but he was starting to suspect she only found that focus when she or her friends were under threat. He’d been that threat before, but now… well. Sometimes you only learned all the rules if you kept playing.

Then, a little desperately, she asked, “Although… have you maybe met this little bellhop named Misha?” 

Aventurine’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, I have. A… charming child.” Among other things.

[eridanidreams]

WIP Wednesday

from a future chapter of *stars through my fingers like grains of sand*

Cora followed Dad and Captain Cait down the ramp of the Razorleaf. They were having a real quiet conversation—maybe even an argument, given the way Cait’s jaw had set—and Cora tried to stay out of those.

Usually coming to Neon was a special treat, but this time she was more worried than excited. It had taken her a day of working herself up to it to talk to Dad about Mom going quiet, mostly because she’d kind of gone behind his back to talk to Mom. Oh, he would have let her do it, but he’d have gotten all upset about it first—not that she was talking to Mom, but that she was the one who was making things work. “It’s our job to make things happen for you, sweet pea.” But at least this way she got to see her mom on video calls.

Dad also thought that Mom could handle anything that came her way, and so did the other Rangers. But Cora listened to people, and she’d overheard Dad tell Andi once that he felt a lot more comfortable traveling with Cait, because they could back each other up. And if that were true for just exploring—though Cora knew they were doing more than exploring, she’d seen them come back with bullet scars on their suits once or twice—then it had to be even more true for Rangering. So when Mom didn’t respond when she said she was going to… well, that was an ultra mega bad thing.

So she’d expected Dad not to take her seriously. Not because he didn’t take her seriously, but because it was about her mom and Mom really was that good. She hadn’t expected Cait to stand up for her, though. Cait had just looked at her—she didn’t have a good way to describe it; it was kind of weird and kind of neat all at the same time—and then she told Dad they needed to follow up on this, that she thought it was serious. Cora would have hugged her in thanks, but she was too worried and Cait was a little uncomfortable about being hugged, like she didn’t know what to do with them. She’d originally thought that was weird, but then she went and considered it like Cait had suggested, and that had culminated in a talk with Dad.

“Dad, do you think Cait had a bad childhood?” Dad had just finished reading to her, and she was still all snuggled up in his embrace. (A lot of girls her age said they were too old for that sort of thing, but Dad gave the absolute best cuddles and Cora was determined to never grow out of them.)

He’d looked down at her, eyes serious. “Well, gumdrop, why do you ask?” He did that a lot, answering a question with another question, but she didn’t mind. Dad said he liked ‘seeing her think’. And when she talked things out with him, sometimes she realized she knew the answer herself. That was the coolest.

“Well, she seemed really surprised that time I punched the mayor’s son for being mean about her. Not that he was mean, but that I punched him.” Cora folded her arms as her dad nodded encouragingly. “And she was really upset that I got hurt. And when I hugged her—Dad, do you think anyone had ever hugged her before?”

“You know, I don’t think so,” Dad said thoughtfully, and with the air that said that he knew something she didn’t, and he wasn’t going to tell her. And that was okay, too—adults had their secrets, and if a smart kid like Cora couldn’t figure them out, that was on her.

“Well, I think she’s lonely,” Cora had declared. “And if she doesn’t have anyone, we need to fix that.”

Dad had chuckled. “That’s a real good idea, gumdrop. Why don’t I put you in charge of that? Just remember, there’s a fine line between making someone feel wanted and making someone feel pestered.”

“Da-ad,” she’d grumbled, and he’d kissed her on the top of the head and said goodnight.

Cora was thinking about that talk, and the way Cait had gotten real sick after the last time they’d been to Neon. She caught up with the two grown-ups just outside of the Rangers office. “Dad? Cait?” They both paused to look at her. “Um, Cait, are you gonna be okay here? You said the eyestrain made you sick last time.”

Dad let out a big sigh, and Cait got the kind of smile on her face that people did when they didn’t want to quite tell the truth. “I’ll be okay, Cora. This is important enough that I can deal with it for awhile.”

“Cait,” Dad said, in his ‘please-be-reasonable-it’s-for-your-own-good’ voice, “I really think you should stop in at Reliant. They know how—”

Cait interrupted him. “We’ve talked about this.” Cora was usually all for someone doing what they wanted to, but Cait was already looking what her dad called ‘pretty rough’ and what she called sick. Cait reached out to push the door open, and it flashed red; a holosign flashed up: RANGER OUT ON BUSINESS.

“There,” Dad almost snapped. “He’s not in. Cait—I know we’ve talked about this. How about a compromise? I’m not asking you to make any decisions right this minute. All I’m asking is that you look into it. Find out if it’s even possible, and we can discuss it again later when you’re not already stressed to the gills.” Dad gave Cait a look that Cora knew she wasn’t supposed to understand—but duh, she was twelve, and she knew Dad was, for some obscure grown-up reason, trying not to let Cait know he was in love with her. And Cait was just as bad!

Not for the first time, she wished they’d just go ahead and kiss each other already.

[basalamander-corner]

❦ - The Shifting Tides: NEW WIP INTRO

We fight for a future we ourselves cannot see.

❝ Blood spills at the drop of a hat. Lives are taken every day. It’s up to you to decide whether or not you want to fight, or be devoured. ❞

Cursed by the blood of a goddess, Saran Turakina has known a life of being less-than-human. His people are holindal, once regular humans now given the ability to shapeshift into draconic forms. To improve relationships with the Kingdom of Askana, Saran’s grandfather has arranged a marriage with their prince. While on a seaward journey to meet his future husband, Saran’s boat is intercepted by pirates, and he’s taken prisoner for a ransom.

On a ship far from home, and with only his two closest friends for company, Saran is forced to come face to face with the pirate king: Viridian Kambiri, captain of the Howling Wolf and charming leader of the Wildlings.

As Saran traverses the maze of secrets and betrayals that fester beneath Askana, it doesn’t take him to realize there’s more to the oppression and hatred towards the holindal diaspora than the monarchy is letting onto. And the secrets they hide is one he must bring to the light. But if violence is the only way of stopping them, then does that not make Saran a murderer, like them?

And if so, how will he stop them without losing his soul in the process?

More info below the cut.

❧General Information

A series that has been on my mind for at least five years. The current version of this draft started in 2020 during COVID, although I’ve had this idea in mind since early 2018 at least. It’s currently taken some inspiration from We Hunt the Flame, The Tiger at Midnight, and Beasts of Prey, although it has evolved into its own story at this point.

I consider it somewhere between Young Adult and New Adult in terms of ratings: most content is aimed towards a 16+ audience. I consider the genre a low/mid-fantasy romance. There’s a bit of extensive worldbuilding, but canonically the series takes place in an alternate universe where the meteor that killed the dinosaurs ended up being imbued in magic. Said magic spread through the earth, and is what eventually caused the holindal mutation. In addition, this Earth has a ring system of a similar intensity to Neptune, caused by the colliding of Theia. If I have to describe the aesthetic, it is an Afro-Victorian world on the cusp of its own industrial revolution.

❧Featuring

The tropes of idiots to friends to lovers, found family, secret royalty.

Themes of coming of age, trauma recovery, rebellion and war, self-discovery, sins of the father, and the deconstruction of “if you kill them, you’ll be just like them”.

A transmasculine and vincian MC. A bisexual MC. A queerplatonic relationship between three major characters, one of the MCs included. An aro/ace major character.

A cast made up of entirely dark-skinned characters.

❧Trigger Warnings

Typical fantasy violence

Blood and gore

Childhood abuse

Physical and mental abuse/trauma

Panic and anxiety attacks

Queerphobia

Racism and xenophobia

Sexism

❧Tag list

Ask to be added or removed!

@sharliexth @thecrookedwriterspath @andromeda-grace @wildswrites @hottubraccoon @likegemstone @iriswords @starlightelegy @words-after-midnight @andromedaexists @writeintrees @thegrievingyoung @pure-solomon @aalinaaaaaa @tate-lin @gltownsend

[ltwharfy]

Talk to us about Arnlee! How did they become friends? What do they bond over? When does each realize that they have feelings for the other? Were they afraid to tell each other how they felt or were they confident? Would they date early in life or later?

So, I'm not sure how long it's been since I got this ask! I think a couple of weeks? But I want to start by saying how much I appreciate it. Most of the asks I get are in response to ask games or are questions that are sent to lots of members of the "Bob's Burgers" fandom- and I love being included in those! But it was really nice to get an ask related to one of my fics, and particularly about Arnold/Kaylee, the rare pair that I wrote the first fic for!!

That said, one of the reasons I didn't respond sooner (in addition to being busy and forgetting about it for a while) is that I'm still sort of figuring where I want to go next with Arnlee. I literally just noticed them dancing together in "Ancient Misbehavin'" one night and wrote a little background story for it the next day- I didn't really think about where I would go from there! And since there is less to go off about them in canon, that makes it harder for me to come up with ideas for them- I like having a clear canon starting point for my stories (several of my fics are episode tags or prologues or missing scenes- including the Arnlee story!)

But here's my current line of thought for your questions:

I really do like the idea that I came up with in "The Life of the Symposium (aka Party)" for sort of being the beginning of their friendship. I see Kaylee post-"Prank You for Being A Friend" trying to be more social and still finding it difficult, but then happening to strike up a conversation with Arnold and making a connection. I think that Arnold and Kaylee are both kind of nerdy outsiders- and I think Kaylee would like Arnold because he is more comfortable in embracing his nerdy outsiderness. He's the youngest and smallest kid in his grade, he wears his karate gi to school almost everyday- but he seems remarkably confident and comfortable in his own skin. And I think Kaylee- the girl who wants to wear her wizard cape everyday- would like that. (And I think the ability to embrace being an outsider makes them a bit different from Louise and Rudy who- if they don't actually aspire to be considered cool or popular- at the very least both seem to care too damn much about what Chloe Barbash thinks of them.)

And I guess that's sort of the dynamic I imagine for them as friends- and eventually more- is as these dorky outsiders who are just kind of happy to be themselves together. I could see them inviting the other to check out their interests- Arnold inviting Kaylee to his dojo; Kaylee getting Arnold involved with the Thinkgineers. I can see them sharing nerdy creative hobbies and interests- like RPGs, maybe even LARPing.

In terms of realizing that they have feelings for each other and dating- I see that as happening when they are at the end of their Wagstaff time/entering high school (which, yeah, is also kind of what I tend to write for Louise/Rudy. I'm a sucker for childhood friends to lovers and that time just sort of seems like a logical point for that transition. Also, it's possible that I'm a little burnt out with being a single middle-aged adult and would prefer my beloved fictional characters avoid that fate...) For Arnold and Kaylee, I think it is particularly interesting because Arnold skipped a grade so he's a year or two younger than her- which means nothing when you're an adult but can mean a lot in adolescence.

I imagine Kaylee developing feelings first and being uncomfortable with and it denial of it. Even if she managed to overcome her shyness/social anxiety to connect with Arnold and others as friends- I think that the idea of trying to make a romantic connection would still be very daunting to her. As I noted during the WIP ask game, the song "Young In Love" by Sweet Nobody gives me these series "Kaylee Morganstern with a crush" vibes, and someday I hope to write a fic on that concept using lyrics from this song as a title.

Especially with Arnold being younger, I imagine him as basically being oblivious to her feelings to him. But when she eventually tells him her feelings he's totally blown away- like he hadn't even been thinking about the possibility but as soon as he finds out she's been feeling that way he's just so happy about it!

Those are my current thoughts about them- they might change at some point between now and whenever I write another fic about them! But I truly do appreciate the opportunity to think and talk some more about my beloved nerds!

Thank you so much for the ask!!

[simplysedusa]

Have you ever considered incorporating the Smith kids in your WIP(S)? I personally like to think Julie and Princess have a frenemy type of relationship who will be like ‘let’s be a girl’s girl except we do it for evil purposes!’ but also be 100% down to stab the other in the back when it’s even slightly convenient for the other. Julie resents it that Princess’ dad keeps evading the law because of his riches while her father is incarcerated for less.

For my high-school aged fic, yes, actually. To summarize, in this fic-verse, the Powerpuff Girls are pulled out of public school after a field trip hostage situation gone awry. Staff, parents of their peers, and other government officials of Townsville all held a meeting with Professor Utonium to make a decision, and it was decided that the girls be homeschooled for the safety of others. I could definitely see Harold and Marianne voting to keep the girls out of school just to spite them.

Later though, the girls are invited back during their high school years after concerns between students, staff, and parents arise from having the Rowdyruff Boys attend school for the first time a year prior. High school shenanigans ensue (and someone might be out murdering villains for some odd reason) and that's where Julie comes in. I see her as a minor antagonist, a mean girl before Princess transfers back and then after Princess redeems herself. Her main target would be Bubbles by herself, Julie would assume that she's the least likely to attack her during school hours (boy will she be wrong lol), but I also see her teasing Blossom and Buttercup. She might even bring up the museum worker that "almost died because of them" and pretend to feel unsafe around them just to convince others that the Powerpuffs shouldn't be there.

For my young adult fic, not so much, maybe Julie could be a dancer at the new theater Brick opens up (he's bored lmao).

But I definitely see Princess and Julie being frenemies. They'd bond over their hatred of the Powerpuff Girls, but they also are a bit two-faced toward each other. Princess thinks Julie's below her due since Princess is filthy rich, meanwhile Julie is just playing nice since Princess is rich and maybe even starts stealing from her. Maybe Princess tried to start up a Powerpuff group of her own with Julie during their middle school years. And then, as Princess eventually redeems herself and befriends the girls, her and Julie are sworn rivals.

[bourbon-ontherocks]

this is the depressing ask. beware. 😂 

first I want to thank the writers for so helpful reminding us of 305 with the line about naked suspects. clearly, morgane wasn’t there to witness adam’s frightful interrogation because she’d have eviscerated him then and there (that’s what I like to think, at least). 

bref. the ending. are we really doing this? I feel like this conversation’s been had a thousand times before yet the show doesn’t seem to have heard any of it. or doesn’t care. (I’ll let you list off the reasons why it’s an awful twist, if you feel up to it, because I’m frankly too tired for that) 

I hate the way they showed a sonogram as if to hammer home she’s carrying a child, not a fetus, when it's the other way round. I hate the mamma mia montage, as if figuring out whose genes are involved is the priority. I hate the 306 retcon, get this shit away from me, both their drinks were spiked. I hate that we’re supposed to believe none of these grown adults (the ones who weren’t drugged, at least) considered protection. especially morgane--she’s had DREAMS about this, ffs, there’s no way that wouldn’t cross her mind. I hate the ramifications of every single way this could go down (too long to expound but you get me). I hate that there’s even a shred of doubt about how this will go down. I hate that they served us some watered-down so-called feminist juice for a whole season and still decided to use morgane’s body as an open ground for drama. 

given the way they’ve addressed the question in the ep, I’m very pessimistic about s4. Idk about you but my only solace is knowing it’s out of our hands, anyway, so I don’t have to waste my energy trying to change anybody’s mind. 

thanks for sticking along on this ride. wouldn't have had it any other way. and good luck for the year ahead of us, everybody. the only way out is through! 🤞

Nodding along at everything you said because yeah, and also while I liked Adam's line about naked suspects, your point about Morgane finding out about it just gave me a fantastic idea to add to my WIP, so thank you for that!

Now for the ending.

I think there are two main points to distinguish here because obviously, my personal distaste for pregnancy and baby storylines makes the idea of Morgane bearing a fourth child everything I don't want to see. BUT, had the circumstances been wildly different, I could have come to terms with it and accepted it, as in "Yeah I don't like this turn of events but I can get over it because it makes sense narratively and serves an interesting purpose". What actually makes this finale awful are the circumstances of this pregnancy, and now we're getting to the essay-ish part of this post where I'll try to explain

Why HPI finale is lazy, infuriating, and profoundly anti-feminist

Just like you point out, this mamma mia scenario was already explored in… well… mamma mia, plus countless other stories, zero originality here, I expected better from HPI tbh. And I read just yesterday an interview with the producer saying "Season 4 be like, we're looking for a baby daddy instead of a murderer lolilol", yea guess what, I DON'T CARE. For a while after watching the episode, I dared to hope that the montage in the end was purposefully misleading, that soon Morgane would come to her senses and remember that she did use protection with at least Timothée and David, because I 100% agree with you, it's ridiculous to make us believe that none of these people ever had a thought about contraception. Timothée even said "We're not trying yet", which means he kinda knows how not to try, no? And also I can accept the idea that Morgane isn't on any kind of birth control because it happens (some women react badly to pills and IUDs, etc), but she was with Ludo for half a season so they must have used condoms, she has to know and think about it (and like you said, she's DREAMED of it, and explicitly said that SHE DIDN'T WANT A FOURTH KID - I'll get to that later because it makes me fume). Besides, she's had three kids already, she knows how this all works. So yeah, it's lazy and implausible.

What I find particularly infuriating in this 3-baby-daddies plotline is also the deeply misogynistic trope of seeing a female character unable to enjoy an unapologetic sex life with multiple partners without getting punished by the script with an unwanted pregnancy. This is the literal definition of slut-shaming by the way. I was going to say that I didn't see where you found feminist vibes in the show, but then I remembered how much I loved the way Morgane expresses her feminity, her desire, and her sexuality, and…. yea, this is exactly the point I'm trying to make (also I loved seeing childfree, 40+ characters who were thriving but that's another discussion I guess). Seeing that we're still there in 2023 legitimately makes me sick.

Speaking of misogynistic tropes… I guess the ONE detail that really makes me want to throw spears at the writers is the sixteen weeks' mention. By purposefully making her too far in her pregnancy for abortion, they robbed her of having a choice. I mean, they could have got her two months pregnant, and then for some bad (imo) reasons she'd have decided to keep the baby, it would have made no difference for what's coming next. I wouldn't have loved it, sure, but it would have been fine by me because at least it'd have been her decision. Here she's just subjected to the plot, and like you said, her body is used as a narrative tool, and it feels like a slap in the face. Not to mention that even here they fucked up the timeline, because she fucked Timothée, David, and Adam in the span of like 4 days, right? Literally the day after the LSD adventures she and Adam decide to wait for three months, and the montage insists on how on the schedule they are. And I'd say that 307-308 happen within a week maximum because Redbone's not one to wait three weeks for his money lol. So 3 months is 12, 13 weeks at most, which means that in the end, Morgane is 14 weeks pregnant AT BEST (which makes her still eligible for abortion, mhhhh, see where I'm going with this? 🤔), and not 16. The only valid explanation would be that it's Timothée's baby and that she was already pregnant when she had her other encounters, but since the show seems to go in another direction, then it means that they purposefully fucked up the numbers so that she CANNOT consider abortion, which is the most dehumanizing, disempowering thing you can do to a female character.

They're literally forcing a pregnancy on her, and I want to throw up every time I think about it.

Speaking of which. Morgnane's already had three kids. Also, she told us in season 2 about her first-trimester symptoms. And she's supposed to be smart, hell that's the WHOLE point of the show. So there's no way she wouldn't have noticed that she was pregnant again, unless she denied her pregnancy (which would explain her total absence of symptoms, incredulity at the hospital, and possibly the fact that her brain erased her sexytimes with Adam). Now pregnancy denial is one of my greatest fears in life, so I can hear that this was particularly triggering for me specifically, but still, this is an incredibly traumatic experience to throw at her, and a source of huge emotional distress. SHE STATED SHE DIDN'T WANT A FOURTH KID FOR FUCK'S SAFE AND YOU ARE FORCING HER TO GET ONE WHEN SHE'S AT HER LOWEST, AND YOU'RE EXPECTING US TO FIND THIS FUNNY??????? I mean just go sell potatoes and stop writing shows because this is an insult to the art of writing.

😠🔪😭

Sorry I need a minute to have a good cry and yell at the abyss.

.

Okay, I'll just close the 16-week essay by saying that I entirely blame Audrey Fleurot for this, and this is what I base my theory on:

I mean, cool bro if it worked for you (except it didn't, do you want to talk again about your post-partum? Is that what you're planning for Morgane?) and I get that acting can be a therapy in some way, but this is getting way too close to the target, just get the fuck out of the writing room if that's what you're going to come up with, PLEASE.

I'm not sure where you see a 306 retcon though, for me it's pretty clear they were both under the influence, had sex, and blacked out about it (which as @earanie and @hemerae-ramblings pointed out, is highly unrealistic since memory losses are NOT a side-effect of LSD, but I can hear the argument of denial here). But speaking of 306, the finale completely doomed this episode for me, because in retrospect it feels like a giant set-up. The LSD scene is ONLY here to make it possible for Adam to have unprotected sex (side point here, I'm actually not mad they hooked up, even though it's kind of frustrating to see it happen this way, because I find the "offscreen banging reveal" a hilarious yet underused trope, and also I like the messiness), and while this last point is in a way funny, the worst part is the three months window at the end, which has in fact NOTHING to do with Adam sorting his feelings or whatever but is only here to forbid the possibility of abortion for Morgane, and this makes me want to stab people multiple times.

Also, one last thing that I find absolutely disgusting is the fact that Morgane and Adam (presumably) conceived a baby against their will (there's a whole other discussion to have about consent here but I won't go there for today) while solving a case about a BABY BORN FROM RAPE. I mean, can you make it more icky than that? Do the writers even acknowledge the irony of this? Do they even care? This baby is doomed by the narrative from the fertilization stage, and we're supposed to enjoy it as a comedy?

And now I assume we'll get to watch a forced coming together between Adam and Morgane due to the circumstances, which means that even if they end up together we'll never know if they actually wanted it? What a way to kill a ship, man, I've seen shows pretty efficient at ship-sinking but this has to be in the top three.

(somehow there's a wild irony in the fact that both the showrunners and the main cast have been saying on repeat from season 1 that they didn't want to make that disappointing season that ruins most shows, and yet they managed to spectacularly fuck-up and promise the worst season ever, and they're already paying for it audience-wise...)

See, all of this is the silver lining I'm holding onto for now, in the hope of a miscarriage (which would also be incredibly traumatic for Morgane, and still an objectified-by-the-plot scenario, but at this point our options are limited. Also for now the showrunners are only mentioning the pregnancy but not the baby so maybe there's a tiny chance she actually doesn't have it), because there's no way anyone could rejoice from this. And if she does have this baby, and if it's Adam's, then I'll officially change their shipname from Brosse Adam to Brosse & Rachel, and this will probably be my last contribution to this fandom. Hated this in Friends, will hate it in HPI.

I'm not pessimistic about season 4, anon, I just don't want to consider it at all. Obviously, I'm ready to withdraw everything I said here if they choose the only acceptable outcome (abortion) and actually make an extremely powerful narrative and political statement about it, but I know it's off the table. Having to endure such a plotline in 2023, at a time when women's right to dispose of their own bodies is threatened everywhere in the world, is a very painful punch in the face, and I sincerely hope they'll get a ton of backlash on social media for this. I just saw this morning that the airing of 308 had the lowest audience numbers ever in the show's history, and I can't say that it makes me unhappy.

(I was lowkey hoping for a cancellation at this point, even though I know the chances weren't great, but I found out today that the show was officially renewed so we won't even get the solace of knowing they can't do any further damage... Eh 🤷‍♀️)

Finally, the thing that saddens me the most isn't even what they did to Morgane and to the show, it's what they did to our community as a result. I have been alone in this fandom for almost a year, and it was incredibly frustrating. And then people joined, created content, interacted, had fun, and we had such an amazing time together, writing, giffing, vidding, sharing theories, jokes, and thoughts. I've met some incredible, witty people, some of them I dare to call friends. And now it feels like everything is falling apart. Friends are leaving, or considering to. Group chats have turned into support groups. The writers didn't only ruin the show, they took away the enjoyment we gathered from it, and it sickens me. Personally, I've had a very rough first semester of 2023, and this community is what has kept me afloat. It's made me smile and laugh in times of sadness, it's given me a shiny, quirky escape that I'll never be grateful enough for. And to witness it all collapsing really hurts. I do hope it's just a bump in the road, that we'll come back eventually, sticking together and collectively despising canon, ignoring it by ferociously writing AUs, and roasting the timeline, and making Daphné-centered vids, but I'm not even sure myself where I stand regarding my own involvement in this fandom. Nothing else to say, I just miss what we had, that's all 😢

Now that I'm thinking about it, "J'avais tellement envie que ça marche entre nous" is exactly how I feel about canon right now. You know when I said that getting into a new hyperfixation felt like falling in love? Well, this shitty ending feels like getting ugly dumped.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, anon, and thank you for sticking with me too. It's too early to say if this is officially the end of Julia's adventures with the HPI anon or not, but please know that I've loved every second of the ride and that I will never forget it 🥲

😘🥃👻

[esssteee]

wip meme: the cabin au !!

snowed in / inclement weather / "oh no we're stuck in this confirmed space because [reasonswhocares] and have to deal with our emotional shit" is my jAAAAAAMMMMM

there really is smth about the weather being the perfect representation of inner conflict, isn't it? and if it enforces an enclosed situation for the characters in question, damn, what's better?

tagging @mercutiotakethewheel and @iamstartraveller776 cause they ask for that one too, but you guys chose the one fic i have the least info/work on but fuck it, maybe one of the purposes of that wip game is to also force the writer to come up with their shit!

the primary thing is that alina and aleksander are separated from the rest of the grisha (and mal, just imagine him stuck with ivan and the others, that deserves a fic of its own) and aleksander sports a more or less terrible head injury cause the man may wear kefta and corecloth but when your horse decides to rear and bolt thanks to fjerdans firing their heavy artillery, well, even your head may take a hit. so we have alina tugging a bleeding, consciousness-deficient aleksander, and, wonders of wonders, who stumbles upon a tiny shack in the middle of the woods right as the snowstorm turns into a fucking real blizzard. luck in the middle of bad luck, that's her thing, yeah.

her survival depends on her keeping her head on her shoulders and not fall prey to the panic of having to take care of aleksander and maybe not really wishing him the best but also still having those pesky feelings that continue to resist the battering force of baghra's half-truths, but also, maybe this could be the best time to get that full picture even if she isn't sure she wants it at this point. so she needs to deal with their basic needs, with her own feelings, with HIS own (cause he will be conscious at one point and won't that be awkward uh), but mostly, this is a doylist situation made for them to get their freaking shit together at a point in the book/show i really wished for more adult communication and less teen-orientated drama.

so expect lots of tension, rised hackles, turning around the pot, of grumbling avowals even, and, mostly, of sudden realisations that life cannot be considered only in a black and white angle. maybe some smut too but maybe not cause the point is to have them understand each other, or reaching the beginning of it, and smut would maybe diminish that. anyway, this fic is very much in its genesis, but it would make my darklina heart quite happy to put these two in a very deserved situation like this one.

[fatalfangirl]

Hi there~ Thank you for the tags this am @ic3-que3n and @aroace-genderfluid-sheep 💕 I'm still here in More than Friends chapter 5 land.

We're going true wip fashion today. Below is a snippet I wrote in an earlier draft of this chapter and then spent a week+ being unhappy with:

SIMON

He wasn’t eating, he wasn’t sleeping, and I didn’t have a fucking clue what to do about it, which was driving me mental. I just kept making him food, hoping to at least keep him from passing out or something. 

I couldn’t ignore him. There was no playing it cool. Because if a supposed one-off blow job made him spiral that badly, then something was going on here. The question, though, is if he freaked because he liked what happened or hated it. Or liked it, but then hated the fact that it was me. Or hated it, but knows I liked it.

I'll talk about why I reworked it (and with what) below the cut, but first just talking a few folks today: @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @captain-aralias, @cutestkilla, @artsyunderstudy, @hushed-chorus, and @blackberrysummerblog.

So snippet above. The goal was to dive into Simon's headspace after Baz spent two weeks processing his feelings via writing and chain smoking. I wanted us to see that it clearly bothered Simon, but format of "he worried me," followed by a mini "does he like me or hate me" spiral felt too... flat. Simon and Baz have lived together for over 2 years, most of which has been the pandemic. He knows a Baz panic when he sees one, so I didn't think he'd be too "oh no what do I do?"

I wanted a little more depth from Simon - something that hints he has experience being around a freaked out Baz, while also reinforcing Simon feels insecure about how Baz sees him.

Because of that insecurity, I realized I needed reality to be shoved into Simon's face for him to truly consider the possibility that Baz was actually into having sex with Simon instead of just regretting everything.

So above got reworked into:

I couldn’t ignore what he was doing to himself. There was no playing it cool. Because if a supposed one-off blow job made him spiral that badly, then something was going on here. The problem is I still don’t know quite what the “something” is. 

At first, all I could think was that he regretted what happened. Which, I get. Not that I regretted it, but I know Baz is a certain way about sex. I could easily see him being overcritical of himself for getting off just to get off. On top of that, it was with me, of all people. But then the days dragged on and something happened to trigger new theories.

I saw some of what he had been writing.

Simon's mindset before meeting back up with Baz at their flat is what had been absolutely wrecking my brain and causing me to struggle with this chapter. Now that I've gotten through that, we can try and power through the rest! (Over the weekend, because being a working adult while also trying to find time for your creative passions is so impossible, like wtf.)

Thanks everyone who made it this far! Have a good Wednesday ❤️

[borrowedtimeandspace]

The Secret Flatmate

3. Impulsive

From this list of gt prompts.

AU: Unknown BAU

Note: Two prompts in one day??? Yep! ^^ this prompt and a few others have given me a bit of an excuse to actually post some things that have been floating around in my WIPs for a good while now. Enjoy some bonus pocketlock!

~~~

John Watson was a creature of habit. That was to the advantage of one Sherlock Holmes, who carefully watched the man from the safety of the walls.

221B Baker Street was an odd place for someone less than four inches tall to hang their hat– or long wool coat in Sherlock’s case– but Sherlock loved it. He’d been a drifter for quite some time, always shifting around London. One thing Sherlock had never been able to do was sit still.

Until he stumbled upon this humble flat in Central London. At first glance it didn’t seem like much; the most interesting thing about Mrs. Hudson the landlady who lived on the ground floor was that she was apparently married to a drug lord, and he wasn’t even in England anymore. Bored, he decided to explore the flat one floor up. From the second he saw it– with its kitschy wallpaper, rubbish carpet and mismatched armchairs– he was enamored. How he ached to be able to live in 221B Baker Street properly, like a human.

And then he remembered he was human. At least he used to be. He’d given up on wishing for his old life back ages ago. Things would never go back to the way they were.

He ended up settling for the next best thing. After a few weeks of absconding with food and supplies from Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock considered himself fully moved into 221B. It was empty, but someone would rent it out eventually, and then he could live off them.

Sure enough, John Watson moved in, and he was at least a little more interesting than the landlady. 

Sherlock had a hobby in childhood that became an instinct as an adult. Extraordinarily observant, he could pick apart even the most minute of details in a person-- their clothing, their posture, even their accessories-- and from them glean an understanding about their life. This was all the easier when observing human beings, whose relatively massive statures rendered all those details plain as day to Sherlock.

While peeking in on his first conversation with her, Sherlock observed that the man was ex-military, wounded abroad if his limp and tan were any indication. Just returned from either Afghanistan or Iraq (confirmed later to be the former) and clearly hadn’t found a job yet. There was no way he could afford rent in Central London on Army pension alone, so it stood to reason that he must be getting help. Perhaps a loan, or a bit of aid from a family member. Taking a wild guess on a hunch after a closer look at the human’s mobile phone, Sherlock thought John’s brother might have lent him a little. Judging by the other things Sherlock deduced about the brother’s failed marriage and drinking habit, it wasn’t the easiest thing for John to reach out to him.

John took the flat– Sherlock’s flat– right away, and the smaller man kept a watchful eye on the new human. It took John a while to find a steady job, solidifying a schedule for Sherlock to take advantage of. He fell into his own habits, patterns of going through his flatmate’s things to learn more about him. It didn’t take him more than a week to learn about John’s career as a doctor, his shoulder wound that got him discharged, and the psychosomatic limp and tremor that came out of that.

This was a man lost in his own world, his own thoughts and nightmares, especially in the comfort of his own home. A perfect human for someone trying to avoid detection.

Or so Sherlock thought.

A few months after the doctor moved in, Sherlock was raiding the cupboards for enough to last him the week. John had long since gone to work, so the flat was quiet and peaceful.

Sherlock took full advantage of Dr. Watson’s recent grocery run, snitching a little from each freshly opened box and package. It was almost boring, how easy pickings were that day. He decided to climb down to the counter, make the rounds of the kitchen before heading back to his hidden home.

No sooner had he emerged from the cupboard sliding smoothly down his hook and line, than the smell hit him. Dark curls whipped around as Sherlock followed the scent to the table in the middle of the room where a plate of homemade scones sat. Sherlock’s stomach clenched with longing; it was around lunchtime and, while the bits of cracker and cereal and dried fruit in his bag made for a successful haul, it had been ages since he’d had the chance at a proper scone.

He longed for the days when he could hold one in hand and carry it along his merry way as he ate.

As it was, no one was home and the plate was hardly touched. Sherlock reasoned that it’d be a shame to let them go to waste, landing efficiently on the counter and giving his line a pointed flick to disengage the paper clip he’d twisted into a hook. The second he caught it, he was on the move to dig it into the edge of the counter. From there, it was a short jog along the floor, a sharp toss of his hook, and a quick shimmy up the dark thread.

The smell was even stronger on the table surface. Sherlock usually exhibited a lot of self control when it came to what he ate, whether it be out of necessity due to a shortage of pickings or a voluntary fast to aid his brainwork. But for some reason, this scone was different. Maybe it was the sheer nostalgia of the treat or the rare opportunity for something fresh, but there was absolutely no hesitation in his step as he made a beeline for the plate. 

He had to give Mrs. Hudson credit: her scones were heavenly. The pastry crumbled easily enough and melted in his mouth, interspersed with the sweetness of the fruit that had been baked into the dough. For once, his ever-running mind stood still for a moment, drawing him back to childhood.

Shoving his older brother aside to snag two handfuls of scones before school in the morning.

Opening his eyes to regard the crumbs in his hands, Sherlock forced himself to push those memories away. That family was lost to him forever, and he would never get that life back.

Not while he was under four inches tall.