#double the WIPs double the sentences

[firstsprinces]

Thank you @onthewaytosomewhere for the weekly tag! It’s always wonderful reading and sharing what you’ve been working on!

I’m honestly writing little bits for almost all of my WIPs when I find the time to. My inspiration is all over the place these days! I’m hoping that I’ll be able to post something this year!! I 10000% failed my writing goals for this year 🤷🏼‍♀️

I’m gonna go off the “rules” and share two because I wrote more of the Fluke AU and then I randomly wrote for my deserted island au!

FLUKE AU

Alex can’t help but to lean against the door frame when he hears Henry talking to Lee from the other room. There’s something so endearing to him whenever Henry speaks in the moments he doesn’t think anyone can hear him.

“I know you don’t like me much, especially when I’m in Alex’s space. He’s my best friend and that’ll never change because Alex would never let me leave. He’s been through a lot. You see, he’s lost his soulmate,” Henry pauses, and Alex feels his heart constrict at the mention because Henry hasn’t spoken about Liam since the first couple of weeks after his funeral, “yeah, and I’m sure we can be on the same page that we don’t want him losing anyone else he cares about.”

Alex looks down at his feet and struggles with his breath because he knows losing Henry would be unbearable, and he never wants to face a day where Henry isn’t here.

DESERTED ISLAND AU

“Where are you going?” Henry asks as Alex starts to walk towards the water.

Alex turns on his heels and keeps walking backwards. “Where does it look like? I’m going for a swim. You’re free to join me, but I suggest you stay closer to the shore this time. I’m not in the mood to have to save your ass again.”

Keeping the tag open!

[honeybee-taskforce]

Hello hi good morning happy day two of pride month, here is more from the middle of ‘not strong enough’!

Carlos has a stern look on his face and his jaw is tense. TK wants so badly to kiss it away or do something to make the tension between them disappear. But, he’s the reason they’re sitting across the room from each other. He’s the one who put that distance there, it’d be hypocritical of him to break the boundary already.

So instead, he sits. And he fidgets. His left leg begins bouncing and he tries to stop it because he knows that can be annoying to other people. He does everything he can to try and force himself to think of anything else other than the terrible silence filling the room. Nancy’s sister’s test results, Captain Vega’s weird lunch mishap, the call earlier with a snapped femur. Anything at all, but none of it works.

All of the tracks for his train of thought lead back to Carlos across the room with his arms crossed and brow furrowed. He hates it.

AND a special guest of some beginning sentences from my recent fic ‘everybody wants it’ which you can find here!

Weeks ago when TK had first introduced the lyrics he had written overnight to the band, everyone stared at him as he tried to explain the inspiration as if it wasn't obvious from the very beginning of the song. Carlos blushed with a smile when Nancy nudged him and wiggled her eyebrows. TK had the nerve to act like he had no idea what anyone was talking about, but the text Carlos got that morning with an explicit photo tells him the truth.

They are performing the song live for the first time tonight and TK is bouncing around all throughout sound check and getting ready for the show. Marjan has tried several times to calm him down but after the fifth attempt she throws her hands in the air. She is responsible for much as their manager, it is clear that this is just going to be something she has to let slide.

"If you break anything, you're paying for it yourself" Marjan says with an eye roll and a finger to shoulder.

"Yes, ma'am" TK salutes with a cheeky smirk. Marjan punches where she had placed her finger and walks away with a fond eye roll.

Tags below + open tag!!

Tag you’re it @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo @lemonlyman-dotcom @nancys-braids @paperstorm

@im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @vineofroses @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @carlos-in-glasses @sanjuwrites

@falloutmars @never-blooms @your-catfish-friend @lightningboltreader @catanisspicy

[onthewaytosomewhere]

Some Sentences on a Sunday

So, it's Sunday, and well my sinuses have been pounding all day attempting to work their way out of my head I'm certain

Apparently, that means all I write is stuff that is nowhere near where I'm at in what I fondly call 'hockey and books' that makes me wanna cry as if the pain wasn't bad enough lol so I'm a share some of that with y'all - even though it's rough and def needs edits lol

❤️Thanks ever so much for the tags today - @typicalopposite @agame-writes @bitbybitwrites @heybuddy-drabbles @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @england-would-fall @suseagull04 @taste-thewaste @adreamareads @stellarm - I am excited to check out what ya posted ❤️

It's a double six sentence sunday today - which means I counted but didn't like where it ended and I do what I wanna really lol

Alex is soaring across the ice, skating the best damn game of his life, getting open, and putting the puck in the net; he’s got himself a hat trick this game. He, Liam, and their team are ahead and just ready to put this baby to bed. It’s less than 2 minutes left in the third period, and they’re in the middle of a power play. Some goons from the other team have been gunning for Alex the whole game, ramming him into the boards with extra force that the officials apparently don’t see, flinging slurs under their breath as they do so. Two of them had finally got caught when they had decided elbowing and butt-ending Alex in front of one of the officials who actually will call it was a good idea. So, now, here they are in the middle of a power play, fast approaching the end of this game and another win - he’s chasing the puck Liam flings in front of him. When it happens, he sees Henry in his seat out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t even aware he was here this whole game and assumed he wouldn’t be since he had ripped Alex’s heart out only 3 days ago, but there he is, and Alex is distracted for that moment. That moment allows the guy from the other team to come at him and take him completely unaware, with no chance of bracing for the impact as he is rammed into the boards. His whole body is on fire, as the force of the collision with the wall is felt throughout; he doesn’t realize he’s falling until his ass hits the ice. He sees his helmet roll on the ice before he feels the moment of contact where his head slams into the ice. He thinks he hears his name shouted in a familiar voice, only it doesn’t sound like it usually does when he’s heard it. It’s the last thing he hears before the darkness overtakes him.

Alex will be fine, and our boys will work their shit out at some point, but they are gonna suffer a bit more in this than I had planned

As it is late(and I'm certain everyone has already done this) and I can no longer look at this laptop and need to re-med I'm gonna leave this an open tag for anyone who wants it - SO IF UR READING THIS AND HAVEN'T YET POSTED AND WANT TO PLZ TAG ME SO I CAN SEE WHAT YA WROTE AND DON'T HAFTA HUNT IT DOWN lol

[h-i-raeth]

Howdy! I'm back again to double dip! (I feel like I'm being so mischievous even though you asked for double dipping, so, you know, insert that one grinch gif here lol). Please add some sentences to The Shadow Of Dust! :)

(For WIP Wednesday)

No. Absolutely not. “Look, I’m telling you, it was a one time--” And then Barb gives her the look. The unimpressed, eyebrows raised, you-have-never-been-able-to-lie-to-me-Nancy-Wheeler look, and Nancy can’t argue with the look, “--two-time thing.”

And then Nick spots a note in the bottom of their locker, and lunges forward off her shoulder in his eagerness to read it, and there’s really no arguing with how that looks.

“You were saying?”

[kalira]

I'd like to request Little Lapin again for WIP Wednesday please

‟Oh! Oh I don’t-” Would he know? ‟Um.” Volks knelt before him and Nimh squeaked again. ‟Um!” Nimh was not bleeding, as it happened, though he felt like he wasn’t breathing either, after Volks carefully pushed his borrowed sweater up and examined his gauze-covered side and chest.

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

I know I said I'd do WIP Wednesday on the plane, but due to uh. Life reasons I wasn't able to write them today. I'm hoping to write for them sometime over the weekend.

[onyourowndaisymae]

𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒛𝒂 - 𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒆 𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

☆☆ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 & 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 ☆☆

hi again :) i'm joining other lovely fanfic writers with @ficsforgaza to help raise money for the folks in need in palestine. i'm proud to be banding together with the community on tumblr to help palestinians during this horrible time.

to participate, make a donation to a vetted fundraiser found on @ficsforgaza's page (aka, don't send me any money lol) and send me a screenshot (with your personal information removed) along with what you'd like to request to my ask box. please do not "double dip" aka use the same donation for several writers-- this is a fundraiser, after all! here is what a request looks like:

hello! can i sponsor your [INSERT FIC] fic? i donated $5 to gaza, here is the screenshot! thank you! [insert screenshot]

my pricing will be as follows:

★ sponsor-a-WIP: $1/100 words ★ drabbles: $2-3/100 words (elaborated below) ★ no money to contribute, but you want to support the cause? that's okay. sign a vetted petition from the @ficsforgaza page and send proof, and i'll add a sentence to a WIP of your choosing.

if you have any questions, feel free to take a look here on @ficsforgaza's page or reach out to me. be patient, i will work on these fics when i can. thank you so much for helping me raise money for a good cause ;)

☆☆ 𝐖𝐈𝐏𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐫 ☆☆

★ pink pony club

on saturday nights, the lights at the fall dim as a performer takes stage. beauty, grace, taking the stage as music begins to trickle from the speakers for their performance. you're born naked, the rest is drag. how do the characters of obey me interact with this art form? are they a performer? an amateur? do they yearn for the spotlight or admire their own outfit from the shadows?

drag!au. bulleted fic/headcanons. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: one! sponsored word count: 0/500.

★ human!au x farming!au

a breeze travels through a small valley town. the spring is warm-- a perfect time for new beginnings. the moving truck pulls away from the small farm where you've been dropped off. this is your land now. to see it thrive, you must love and care for each inch. but first, you should probably introduce yourself to the local townspeople.

human!au and farming!au. heavily inspired by both harvest moon/stardew valley games and my mutual @misc-obeyme and their human!au. small paragraphs for each character. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: one! sponsored word count: 0/500.

★ obey me characters with earrings

accessories are a wonderful addition to any outfit. if the characters of obey me had their ears pierced, what sorts of earrings would they wear?

bulleted headcanons/fic. themes of x reader. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

★ obey me demon brothers presenting you with a friendship bracelet in return

you presented the avatars of sin with a custom friendship bracelet to commemorate your growing bond. now, they're here to return the favor.

demon brothers x reader (platonic OR romantic, up to reader interpretation). revival of a long-dead series. bulleted fic. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

★ the fall's private rooms (nsfw warning)

being a human in the devildom has left you with a certain... interest in demonkind and other fantastical creatures. but you're far too embarrassed to explore this fascination with anyone you know. the solution? an anonymous station set up in one of the fall's private rooms allowing you to fuck someone without knowing who they are, no strings attached. this set-up grows a bit more complicated, though, when word travels through the grapevine about the dirty things you're doing. the door closes to the room you're tucked away in, indicating someone is here to indulge you... but is that a familiar voice you hear on the other side of the wall?

nsfw. minors dni. obey me characters x reader smut. gloryhole dynamic. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: one! sponsored word count: 0/5000.

★ oc spotlight: introductions

the rules of the exchange program are simple: the celestial realm and the human realm both send three of their residents to the the devildom to experience hell's culture for an entire year. among the usual residents of purgatory hall, two new faces are seen wandering about. one, a straight-laced, fledgling sorcerer trying her best to explore the depths of the devildom's history and gain a grasp on her budding powers. the other, an angel born hard-of-hearing and further deafened by the celestial war with a penchant for beautiful artistic creations.

canon-divergent!au. x reader. introduction of two original characters. character profiles. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

★ oc spotlight: vampire!au

vampirism is a strange affliction. it creates a recluse of the most social creature, driven from the sunlight and modern society into the shadows by bloodlust and misery. you are a human being who has recently become the source of blood for each of these two ancient vampires. how does your relationship with the evolve? do they grow to see you as more than a pet, or are you slaughtered for your insolence long before they remember your name?

vampire!au. ocs x reader (separate). full-length standalone fics. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

☆☆ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ☆☆

i'll be accepting drabble requests for the seven demon brothers and the dateables. drabbles are estimated to be ~500 words. they can be sfw/nsfw, tropes, fluff, etc. please specify what you'd like to see in this drabble, whether you only have a character in mind or a very specific scenario! (note: anon MUST be off for you to request nsfw, and you must be 18+).

since requests require a bit more work, i'll be pricing them at $2 per 100 words for sfw drabbles and $3 per 100 words for nsfw drabbles.

do you want to support gaza and request fics for twisted wonderland? check out my other blog here

[suzukiblu]

financial issues and the solving thereof:

Full disclosure, I did not intend to make this post 'til I wrapped up a a few related things in my queue, but today I had an unexpected ( not emergency, but necessary ) vet bill for about 450 USD and also found out one of my headlights is out, which is likely to be another 200, annnd my car insurance and rent are both due before my next paycheck. So welp, looks like double-up thank-you sentences on Ko-fi are an early go!

If you make a donation to my Ko-fi tip jar and include the name of one of my WIPs with it–or alternately, "dealer's choice" and any squicks/triggers that you'd like to have avoided, or even just a character/pairing you'd like to see something related to–I'll write you some thank-you sentences in that WIP, minimum two sentences per dollar.

Ko-fi page

active WIP list

Thank you for reading! 💛

[iinryer]

word wip game! Rules: you will be given a word. then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

tagged by @try-set-me-on-fire for the word CHOKE—here are a few clips from the eddie sees ghosts fic :’) had to stretch K just a little bit lol

C

Chim also has a shadow in turnouts. The coat is more clear and familiar to Eddie’s eye, enough so that he’s been able to catch the name LEE printed on the back. Lee doesn’t come by too often, but Eddie will catch him running closely behind Chim on more difficult scenes, so close it’s like he’s seeing double.

H

He still hasn’t caught Robert Jr. or Brooke’s attention, but he gets grateful nods from Kevin when he’s around to see Eddie have Chimney’s back.

O

“Okay, alright, not stuck,” Eddie smiles, so does Daniel, “So you stick around to keep Buck and Maddie safe?” Daniel purses his lips and shrugs, so Eddie tries, “keep them company?” Daniel looks around the room then shrugs again, but this time with a nod, “Yeah, making sure your siblings are never alone, it’s an important job for a brother, huh?”

K

A kid who had to understand much more than he ever should have had too. Buck said he was eight when he died. Eddie can’t even bring himself to imagine what that must have been like. The year or two leading up to it.

E

Eddie thinks maybe they wouldn’t have lingered if it weren’t for Buck. They seemed happy, fulfilled. The kind of souls that wouldn’t float at all, but made a choice to stay for a bit. For Buck’s sake. Eddie knows the feeling.

tagging @gayeddieagenda & @colonoscopys w the word GHOST :)

[peonierose]

@txemrn Thank you so much for including me 💚

I hope you’re having a wonderful Sunday 😍 (I finally got my six sentence Sunday done ✔️ Yay 😁)

Here are some of my Wip: (though I haven’t really written much in the past few weeks 😅)

Wildflower

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Keiki Lahela (F!MC) x Koa Haulani (M!OC)

Summary: Keiki is about to meet someone new. Is she ready for a new relationship? Or will she shy away and miss out on something amazing?

The rich green hue reminds me of this guys eyes.

”Hey.“ I wave.

Can you say first awkward conversation?

”Did you try to escape the crowd too?“

I grin.

”That obvious?“ I play with a strand of my hair. A nervous habit of mine. I’m usually not like one of those giggly girls, but for some reason he brings that out in me.

He walks over and gets a water bottle out of the fridge too. His cologne wafting towards me. Reminding me of the fresh and clean ocean.

”It’s not that. I was wondering why a gorgeous girl would hide in here?“

I scoff.

”I’m not hiding. I was getting some drinks for me and my friend.“

He nods slowly and takes a sip.

Damn. Why does everything he does look sexy?

Why can’t he be unattractive? It’s be easier not to like him.

He grins as if he caught me staring at him. I blush and look away.

”I’m Koa by the way.“

”I‘m Keiki.“

May the force be with you

Book: Open Heart (set after Luna & Bryce’s twins are born)

Summary: Bryce and Sky pick the twins up from kindergarten. Looks as if the force is strong with these two.

”Star wars.“

”Grogu.“ Alaia adds.

”Okay fine. Let’s get Grogu and let’s go home.“

I put the twins down gently and grab two toys with Grogu. One where he sits in a sand colored satchel and the other where he’s in his tiny little floating space shuttle.

”What about Mando?“ Kehlani asks as I’m putting the toys into the cart.

”Yeah, daddy, what about Mando?“ Alaia asks me.

I grab two Lego toys with the Mandalorian and Grogu, which we’ll have fun assembling together later.

Both twins grin at each other. And at their little treasure.

I sigh. How do I always end up buying more toys than they know what to do with? But I just can’t say no, as the twins pointed out earlier. I just love them too much.

”Okay fine. That’s it. But don’t tell your mom, promise?“

I lean down and hold my pinkies up as they both take it. Grinning.

Our pinky promise. Which will probably be broken in I’d say two and a half hours.

As soon as the twins are loaded up on sugar and fun. They’ll spill the beans. I grin. Damn I love my kids.

Sky is already at the cash register when we arrive with a cart full of toys.

”Not a word.“ I warned him as we laid everything onto the conveyor belt to pay for the toys.

Sky laughs at me and high fives the girls. Who giggle at us and I can’t resist to tickle them into another laugh.

Eat it Twilight (1/?)

Book: Bloodbound & Supernatural crossover

Summary: Sam and Dean have a brand new case. One that leads them to straight to Adrian Raynes. Will they be able to find out what happened and gain new friends and Allie’s? Read to find out.

”Earth to Sam. What are you staring at. Don’t tell me you finally gave porn a chance?“ Dean grins at him.

Sam sighs and look up.

”Ugh. Dean. For the record I‘m looking at a case that’s spreading in New York,“ he says and focuses back on my screen.

Dean grins and drinks from his beer bottle.

”Seriously? Dude! It’s like noon,“ he says.

Dean scoffs.

”You drank all the coffee! What am I supposed to drink? Water? What case are you talking about?“ he asks around another gulp of beer.

Sam sighs and turns the laptop around so Dean can have a look too.

”Unsolved homicides. Drained. Looks like a vampire to me,“ he says while Dean reads through the article.

”I don’t like those sparkly ass vampires. You think it’s a nest of vampires? Or just one?“ Dean asks.

Sam shrugs his wide shoulders.

”Only one way to find out. We go there and see what we’re dealing with,“ he says closing hislaptop with a snap making Dean jump and he smiles while he gets up.

Sam almost rounded the corner when his brothers voice calls him back.

”Hey Sammy?“ Deans yells.

Sam turns around.

”Yeah?“ Sam says.

”Don’t forget your white shirt. I even ironed it for you,“ Dean grins and gets up to pack all we need.

Sam groans and drags his hand through his hair. It’s getting longer again. Might be time for a small trim.

”I’ll wear it when you stop ironing my shirts with beer,“ Sam yells back getting annoyed by his brothers comments. Dean just laughs.

Once (4/5)

Book: The Nanny Affair and Open Heart Crossover

Summary: After Addison died. It’s time to say goodbye. Sam is not alone he’s got Robin his family and his new friend Ethan to face the tough days ahead.

Swirling the scotch in my hands that I poured myself a while ago. The ice cubes already melted and take a sip. It smoothly runs down my throat burning just right.

“Getting shit faced. Is that how you’re spending your days now, Sam?“ I hear an angry voice. That voice belongs to my non-biological brother Robin. A pain-in-the-ass if you ask me.

Unbothered by his presence I take another sip.

He comes to a stop next to me. I don’t even look at him. Just continue looking outside. Not seeing anything.

“Anybody home?“ He taunts me.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye.

“What do you want?“ I ask not caring how I sound.

“Oh so he speaks? That’s nice,“ he says sarcastically.

I roll my eyes at that.

“Again what do you want?“ I just want him gone and to be left alone. So that I can finish my drink in peace.

That’s when my drink is yanked out of my hand.

“The hell, Rob?“ I glare at him. My voice is dangerously low. But he either ignores that or doesn’t care. I’d say it’s a bit of both.

“What is wrong with you? Addi died and all you seem to care about is getting shit faced?“ He almost shouts at me. His fists clenched at his sides anger rolling off of him in waves.

“Do I look drunk to you? No? Then kindly fuck off.“

I’m holding out my hand for him to pass me my glass.

He just scoffs.

“You know what? No. I’m not just going to leave you here. So you can wallow in misery,“ he pauses for a second, before continuing.

“As for why I’m here. Mom called me. Since you don’t know what a phone is and how it works. She asked me to check in on you. You literally ghosted everyone. Our parents are worried. So are Mickey and Mason. Remember? Your kids? Whose mom died?“ He punches the bridge of his nose.

I‘m tagging (no pressure 💚)

@angelasscribbles @txemrn

@aallotarenunelma @inlocusmads

@karahalloway @cariantha

@socalwriterbee @lizzybeth1986

@alj4890 @storyofmychoices

@khoicesbyk

Happy Easter, everyone! 🖤 I'm being selfish... I want to see your WIPs! I had the pleasure of talking with a few writers this weekend, and there is some serious excitement brewing! So... pretty, pretty please with sugar on top, share and tag me in your SSS!

@socalwriterbee @peonierose @charlotteg234 @kat-tia801 @sfb123 @ao719 @tessa-liam @deb-1106 @khoicesbyk @msjr0119 @katedrakeohd @karahalloway @aussiegurl1234 @cariantha @alj4890 @twinkleallnight and whoever else has a snippet to share, PLEASE consider yourself tagged (my brain is hopped up on jelly beans)!

[sweetestberryofthebunch]

(More Than) Six Sentences Sunday!

I jump between WIPs like I‘m on the run lately, but here’s a little snippet from the next chapter of Double Feature that I feel like sharing!

She pulled the fork out of your mouth way slower than necessary, watching every inch of it, her own lips parting. You felt her breath on your face, surprised by how hot the gentle gush of air hit your cheek. And when you swallowed, you felt her eyes on your throat, watching the exposed skin move, dipping lower to where nothing but flimsy fabric covered you up.

„A-“

“Shhh“, a hand on your cheek, fingers hooking underneath your chin to force you to look up at her. As if you wanted to look anywhere else right now.

„Silence, honey“, she breathed, tilting your head to one side, and then to the other. You weren’t sure if she was actually scanning your face or just seeing if you would let her. Which, of course, you did. You melted like soft butter under her touch, letting her shape you any way she pleased. The realisation almost scared you.

A soft little sound left Agatha’s lips, a hum so quiet, if you hadn’t felt it against your skin, you probably would have missed it. She was so, so close, her face almost blurred before you. Her eyes were dark and unreadable, but there was a little twinkle in her gaze, the idea of something wicked. If only you‘d lean in one more inch—

[ass-deep-in-demons]

WIP tag game!

I got tagged by @nerdanel01 which was a double treat because not only I get to share my WiPs but also I got to read excerpts from the next update of Love is a Stranger 😍​😍​😍​

Rules: You will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your WIP(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

Right now I have three WiPs going on: 1. Under our Darkening Skies (Boromir) - Chapter 3 2. Tales from the Lighthouse (Emmrich x Osla "Rook" Mercar, multichapter, cannon setting) 3. Small Town Horror (Emmrich x Osla, multichapter, small town AU) My key word is:

LIGHT

[L] - from Small Town Horror

"Listen, Varric, I appreciate…" Varric held out his hand. "Just… hear me out, Rook. I know you won't accept charity, so how about a deal?" "A deal?" Osla echoed warily. Varric nodded. "We help each other, just like in the old times. No handouts, no debts, just clean cut business." "Alright," said Osla, "I'm listening." "You remember my brother Bartrand?" "Of course," said Osla. The mention of Bartrand got her attention. "Tarquin told me he's had some sort of a… crisis. How is he?" "Hmm… Better than a month ago, when his head went crackers. Still nowhere near mentally stable. He's been admitted to an… institution. It was going to be temporary, initially, but with how his recovery is going so far, the doctors think it might become more of a… permanent arrangement." Osla felt a pang of guilt. She wasn't the only one going though it. Hers wasn't the only family that got broken. Suddenly her drunken antics seemed like a childish tantrum. She should get a grip. "Shit, Varric, I'm sorry," she offered lamely. "Yeah, well, it is what it is," said Varric. "But this is where you come in. You see, I need someone looking after the Tethras Farm in the meantime. How about you move in there, take care of the animals during the cold season, and uncle Varric will cover your living expenses ? Hm?" "Please don't refer to yourself as my uncle ever again," said Osla.

[I] - from Small Town Horror

In a moment of bravado, he decided to drive to the farm and check on her. Maybe something had happened. Maybe… Maybe she broke and… indulged? He was glad he himself hadn't been drinking at the party. He walked the short distance along the Main Street to the clinic, popped in the front door to grab his car keys. The ride to the Tethras Farm wasn't a long one, but it required some concentration - the country road had no street lights. As he approached the farm, he could see from afar that the windows were lit. That meant Osla was likely at home. Emmrich felt relieved. As he approached, more details became apparent: one, that the gate to the farm's frontyard was open, and two, that a silver minivan was parked right next to Osla's old pickup. Emmrich did not recognize the car. Did Osla have guests over from outside of Mournville? He read the minivan's plate - it was from the Nevarra City, which confirmed his suspicion. Emmrich felt self-conscious. Coming to check up on Osla when she was alone was one thing, but ringing her doorbell to be greeted by her family or a group of friends - that would be something else entirely. What if… what if she had a gentleman, or a lady friend over? Was that why she'd missed the party?

[G] - from Under our Darkening Skies

"(…) go," said a voice over Boromir’s head, and he felt the weight that was pinning him down lift. An outstretched hand appeared above him; Boromir took it and hauled himself upright. “Hail Boromir of the White Tower,” said the rider who had helped him up. Boromir recognized his pointed helmet with horsehair crest as the sign of the Marshal of the Mark, but even without it, his voice was familiar and gladdened Boromir’s heart. “Hail Eomer, son of Eomund!”, he said. “Ever are the Lords of Gondor welcome in the King’s Folde, and Boromir first among them,” said Eomer, who seemed to be in high spirits, still in battle frenzy. “Even when he appears mid-fight, out of thin air, no less. Now I must know, whatever were you doing in this orcish camp, alone and unarmed?” “Preparing for dinner,” said Boromir tersely.

[H] - from Tales from the Lighthouse

He saw, with some mortification, that Manfred had taken the Tevene medallion out of his satchel and was waving it at Rook, proudly displaying his plunder in front of her. “Hiss!” the spirit called out, pointing to the decoration. Emmrich saw Rook turn pale and wide-eyed. He hastily stood up, preparing to intervene. “Rook, if you would allow me to expla-” he began, but was interrupted. “That’s mine!” Rook hissed, snatched the medal with a trembling hand and clutched it to her breast. Whatever the origin of the trinket, it must have held a great value to Rook, judging by her immediate reaction. Emmrich approached her carefully, feeling everyone’s eyes on himself. “Please, accept mine and Manfred’s sincerest apologies. He didn’t mean to steal it from you, he just collects random objects that he finds interesting,” he sighed. “I will strive to watch him more carefully next time.” He could tell that his apology had only been moderately successful at mollifying Rook’s outrage. Clearly, she counted touching the medallion for a serious transgression. Her eyes remained trained on Manfred, who in turn was giving off a strong aura of alarm and confusion at her outburst - an aura that Rook, lacking magical talent, had no way of perceiving, Emmrich knew. Still, she appeared hesitant, perhaps fighting some inner battle about how to respond in this situation. At last, she came to a resolve. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, which appeared to be her preferred method of soothing her nerves. “You are welcome to look at it, Manfred, but please, ask me next time,” she told the skeleton calmly, even though Emmrich could tell how much it cost her. “I really don’t want it to get lost or damaged,” she added.

[T] - from Tales from the Lighthouse

They entered the battered pier carefully, looking for any sign of movement on the deck, detecting no one. They couldn’t see the actual deck over the board. Suddenly, an elf swung from the air on a rope and landed on the board, in an acrobatic feat. He was well out of reach of any direct attack, and no walkway has been lowered to the pier, so there was no way to arrest the newcomer. Osla took the stranger's measure. He was an adult elf, maybe a few years younger than Emmrich, which would give him well over a decade over Osla herself. Slender physique with catlike movements and a well fitting leather armor marked him as a rogue type of fighter. His skin was tan and wind-weathered, with prominent charming laugh lines surrounding his eyes. He was favoring them with a self-satisfied grin, framed by a mop of blonde hair flying in the wind. “Arainai!” growled Lucanis. “Get down here so I can end you.” “Lucanis, you know him?” Osla asked, incredulous. Lucanis frowned and was about to answer when the strange elf cut him short. “Evidently not as well as he thinks he does. I no longer belong to House Arainai, nor do I claim their name. These days, I go simply by Zevran. At my lady’s service," he bowed theatrically. “Zevran? I’ve heard that name somewhere,” said Taash. “Do not trust a word out of his mouth, Rook” warned Lucanis. “Why? Is he a rival assassin?” asked Osla. “Worse! He is a contract breaker!” said Lucanis and spat, as if the very phrase left a bad taste in his mouth. The elf uttered an exaggerated sigh. “As ever my reputation precedes me, I see,” he tutted and shook his head in mocked disbelief. “In my life, I have only ever broken a single contract (…)"

***

Tagging: @scyllas-revenge, @sotwk, @konartiste, @esta-elavaris, @dismalzelenka, @lavenderprose, @emmg, @lucifers-legions

Your word is:

TRUTH

[ragnarokhound]

trick or treat 👻 long time no ramble in your ao3 comments but ily

Happy Halloween!! Always happy to hear from you! <333

Please enjoy my final contribution this year, a merry spookmas to all, and to all a boop night:

Halloween night in Gotham always brings out the crazies. The light is still on at this house, one of many in a nice, quiet neighborhood close to the park. The doorbell rings in expectation. As the tradition is answered, the owner of this particular house is nearly shocked out of their skin by the costumed figures on their front stoop. Or rather, by one in particular. "Trick or treat," sniffles a young, wobbling voice. "Trick or treat," her imposing guardian echoes, a beat off. The old rote phrase takes on new meaning, spat out of that expressionless red helmet, threatening and mechanical. Red Hood is on the porch. With a teary-eyed fairy princess, clutching a half-full sack of candy in her small hands. It looks suspiciously like burlap, and it's stained in places, like it's already been used for kidnapping purposes. Best not to ask, probably. "O-oh! What wonderful--" a darting glance from the princess to the Hood, "--costumes. So creative. Not staying out too much longer, I hope? It's getting late." "Making up for lost time," Red Hood says. It answers about as many questions as it raises, but mostly it says back off and give up the goods. Nervously, "Oh, of course. Take as much as you like, dear-- we thought we'd seen our last trick-or-treaters already." The princess's eyes get big, and she looks up at Red Hood, double checking. When he nods, shrugging, as much as you want, they said, she scrambles for the candy bowl. Crisp plastic packaging crinkles by the handful as she practically cleans them out. "What do we say?" Red Hood says gruffly. "Thank you!" she says, beaming. Hood leans in close. "Warheads? Gummy lips?" The gun-toting vigilante says disdainfully. "Are you kidding me with this sh-- stuff? This is bottom shelf candy. This is the dregs from last year. We both know the average property values on this street. You can do better." "Hood!" A third, irritated voice calls from the short driveway. "Wrap it up, we're behind schedule as it is!" "We'll make time," growls the man behind the mask, not even turning to acknowledge-- Red Robin is in the driveway. The severe twist of his mouth is impatient, but softens when the fairy princess comes running towards him, near-full bag held up triumphantly and spilling at least half a dozen boxes of Dots on the grass. "Red Robin, Red Robin, look! Look, I have enough now! I wanna show Greg and Mommy, they'll never believe it--" "Good job, Jenny," Red Robin says brightly, helping her up in front of him on the seat of his motorcycle. He's got a child-sized helmet ready to go. "See? I told you we'd get your candy back. Hood!" he snaps. Red Hood points fingers at his eyes and then at the cheapskate home owner's, I'm watching you, before snatching the last butterscotch out of the bowl. "Keep your shorts on, princess, I'm coming," he complains, climbing up onto the seat behind him. It's a tight fit. "Ready to go home?" he asks Jenny. "Bad guys and trick or treating and magic spells. You've had a big night, kiddo." "Uh-huh," she says absently, seriously studying her candy stash. "Then hold on tight--" "You got her?" "What kind of question is that? Of course I've got her--" The rev of the engine drowns out the rest of their bickering, and then they're off, screaming down the street. Gone, like they were never here at all. Halloween always brings out the crazies.

(For the trick or treat ask game! Send me a trick or treat ask and I'll share jaytim WIP snippets, or new 3-sentence -paragraph fics, etc :^) through the 31st!)

[h-i-raeth]

And I'm gonna double dip and also ask for shadow of dust, pretty please!

(From this WIP Wednesday)

“So, did he call?”

Nancy startles, turning to find Barb sneaking up on her from the other hallway. She’s good at that--sneaking. Even now that Cal has settled into a form that rightly shouldn’t be, whose hooves should click on the linoleum floor of the school like Chrissy Cunningham’s little ram. 

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Hiii, glad to hear you're feeling good to do wipw!

Since I now have three favorites I love equally, can I request whichever gets the least asks between Guardian Angel Neil, Arsonist Neil and Mafia Restaurant? If it's too annoying to count them back and forth just pick the one you want the most, or at random hehe :D I'll be happy with whichever but I just can't pick. See, this is me:

(idk if you've seen The Good Place but Chidi (the guy in the gif) is notoriously bad at making choices)

Anyways, have a good week!! <33

WIP Wednesday (1/8) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 271)

"Not who. What." Andrew clarifies, tracing the ruined skin with the pad of his thumb. After a moment, 10 lets out a tiny sigh and tilts his head slightly to gesture to the front of the car.

"One of those."

Andrew turns his head to look to the side and finds nothing but the dashboard. There's nothing in either cup holder, save for a couple handfuls of change. He's about to give up and ask again, when finally his gaze lands on the empty outlet under the radio. He chews the inside of his jaw in lieu of grimacing, then he realizes the scars on 10's hands match.

"Tell me something. Why does a man with so many burn scars play with fire?"

10 blinks slowly. "Why do you?"

"I put them out. There's a big difference."

"I'm talking about me." 10 says. "I'm nothing. A nobody. I’m somebody you should've turned in the moment you figured me out. So tell me Andrew, why are you playing with fire?"

"Because I am self-destructive, perhaps a bit stupid." Andrew thumbs 10's cheek again. "And I like the smell of smoke."

That makes 10’s eyes sparkle and he smiles. “I want to kiss you again.”

"I—" Andrew cuts himself off before he can admit too much. Because he wants. God, he wants. Much more than he's prepared for right now. After allowing himself one more stroke of 10's scarred cheek, he lets his hand drop to his lap.

NEIL

Neil immediately misses the warm weight of Andrew's hand against his cheek. He wants it back, that warmth and care. He's not used to it. He can't remember the last time he was given a kind touch. It must've been decades ago. He survived without it but now he's craving it more than he's ever craved nicotine.

"Andrew?"

Andrew looks from Neil to his now-empty hand and clears his throat. "You still owe me a muffin."

Neil glances at the cafe, then back at Andrew. "Okay."

It's easy to get out of the car and stroll into the Magnolia with Andrew right beside him. And, Neil thinks he'd buy the entire establishment (or perhaps burn it down) if it meant Andrew would touch him again. He doesn't voice this, because it's insane. But he follows Andrew into the cafe like a dog on a leash and pays for their food.

Neil orders himself a black coffee and the first sandwich on the menu, whatever it was— he has no idea. He barely glanced at the menu before turning his attention back to Andrew, who was staring up at the menu board as if it had personally offended him. Andrew ends up ordering a different sandwich— presumably one he actually wants— plus a huge mug of hot chocolate and a double chocolate muffin. The same kind Neil had bought him last time. The time he didn't stay.

When Andrew asks where Neil wants to sit, Neil pulls at the leash and takes them to the booth nearest the front windows. And they eat and drink and talk. And Neil is nervous again, which wouldn't be so bad if his nervousness weren't connected to his flight or fight instinct. His leg is bouncing a mile a minute underneath the table and he knows he's bumping Andrew's knee, because Andrew keeps glancing down under the table when it happens.

Finally, the thirtieth time Neil's knee knocks into Andrew's, Andrew stops mid-sentence and gets up from his seat. Neil almost gets up to follow him, no questions asked. Then Andrew is gesturing for him to scoot over. When Neil does, Andrew slides into the booth beside him and it should make him feel trapped. Boxed in. Something.

But it doesn't. It makes him feel safe with Andrew between him and everything else in the world. Eventually his leg stops bouncing and Neil is able to convince his nervous system he's not being hunted by a tiger. Or worse, his dead father. He settles into the booth beside Andrew and picks at his food while watching the way Andrew's eyes glow under the sunlight pouring through the window.

[lavenderprose]

WIP Tag Game

Okay guys it is officially WIP Friday. Document transfer took so so much longer than I could have even comprehended. Do NOT try to transfer eight years of documents via the cloud. It will annoy you in ways that aren't meant to be experienced by humans.

Anyway. We're doing a WIP game I was tagged in by @ass-deep-in-demons. Rules are thus:

You will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your WIP(s) that start with each letter of your word.

My main WIPs right now are:

No Grave (Emmrich-centric Emmrook piece that threads through the narrative of the game. Basically: Emmrich falling hard and having emotions about it.)

Wellspring (This is the new and improved title of Breeding Kink Two Electric Boogaloo--Self-explanatory.)

Concrete Flower (Very tentative title) (Emmrook Pretty Woman-ish AU. Rook is an escort, Emmrich starts off as her client and becomes a friend. They fall in love. There's way more plot to it than that but that's the gist.)

My keyword is: TRUTH

[T] from Concrete Flower:

The Hotel Magistrate was thirty-six floors, thirty-two of which were hotel space. On the top floor was a massive rotating restaurant serving a menu of hoity-toity Antivan dishes, and the bottom three floors were yet more conference space. The conference occupying the space currently was the annual summit of the International Assembly of Navarran Funerary Practitioners. Rook noticed this, barely, as she skidded towards the elevator bank and double-tapped the button for the thirty-fourth floor.

As the elevator doors closed, she caught a whiff of Navarran incense, and thought very briefly of a home she hadn’t visited in years.

After the elevator and a handful of left turns, Rook found the given room number tucked into a slight recess by the stairs. Its distance from the other doors in the hallway hinted at the size of the suite even before she knocked and, in short order, the door swung open.

He was a relatively normal looking person, if one knew and accepted the fact that Nevarrans had a slightly skewed definition of ‘normal.’ He wore a silk shirt with sleeves drawn up by a pair of garters, a waistcoat, and a pair of wool trousers. He also had a brocade sash around his middle—very Nevarran, in a way that hit her with a sudden, though very brief, pang of homesickness—and a truly dazzling amount of grave gold. Rook, whose grave dowry in its entirety was only two pieces, found her eyes drifting repeatedly to the gold jingling at his wrists.

“Hi,” she said, offering a genuine smile and her hand.

“Hello,” he replied, taking her hand as he opened the door further. With his other hand, grave gold clinking, he gestured inward. “Please, come in.”

[R] from Wellspring

Rook is pale and there is sweat beaded to her temples. Every few minutes, Emmrich notices her press her arched fingers into her thigh, nails digging, and he wonders if the presence of the Venatori agent is truly nauseating her to that extent. She shifts restlessly on her chair. Her glass, perspiring at her elbow, is untouched. He clutches his hand tight in his lap and makes himself wait for her signal.

Finally, from the other side of the table, Neve voices the thought he’s been having this whole time: “She…doesn’t look good.”

“I’m aware,” Emmrich says.

“Maybe we should—”

“Yes,” Emmrich says immediately, and rises from his seat with a speed and alacrity that sends a few pairs of eyes turning towards him, if only for the shrieking sound the old wooden chair makes against the flagstone floor.

“Oh,” says Rook, when he materializes at her elbow. She grips onto the hem of his sleeve like she’s drowning and he is the only buoyant thing for miles. “Hello.”

“Darling—“ Emmrich says, at the same time the Venatori makes the unfortunate decision to open his mouth.

“This your dad, then?” he says. Emmrich can smell the liquor on his breath, though he has to admit that he’s near enough for the cultist to smell the wine on his own. He cards a look over Emmrich, from the tips of his shoes to the top of his head, and says, “Oh, more like your Daddy—”

Emmrich, for a red-blind moment, sincerely wants to forgo the idea of a hex. The vision of introducing this man to the end of his staff is violent, vivid and satisfying. The disgust is so strong it’s almost physical—Emmrich raises a hand, feels Rook’s fingers tighten on his sleeve in warning, and manages to mutter the incantation before she yanks his hand back far enough.

The cultist’s head is, instead, introduced to the surface of the bar, where he groans and whines as he tries to pick it up.

[U] from No Grave

"...unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Do you see these crabs?”

“Which ones?” To her credit, she frequently indulges him. She’s a product of lifelong exposure to scholarly curiosity, just as he is. Her being a Necropolis foundling and him being a ward to the Watch since childhood, they are kindred in that way. She seems to genuinely delight in his impromptu lectures, his long asides triggered by small details. He’s always been aware that he is a particularly verbose man and that this can be seen as appealing and grating in turns. Luckily, her opinion seems to fall into the former category, at least most of the time.

He resumes his crouched posture and gestures, rings glinting blindingly in the sunlight, to a trio of crustaceans huddled on the surface of a barely-submerged piece of driftwood.

“Do you see the shells they’re wearing?” he murmurs, leaning close.

“Wearing?” she says as she wades the short distance to him. She leans over him, strands of her hair draping against his shoulder. They are like silk against the back of his neck; rich, exquisite, and something he would like to feel against the tenderest parts of himself. Like the others, he pushes this thought away.

Instead, he offers her an approving smile, one he knows his students at the Necropolis to clamor over, and says, “I so appreciate how carefully you listen, Rook. Yes, they’re wearing them. These shells,” he gives a circular, meandering gesture that encompasses all three of them; mottled pink, ivory white and mother-of-pearl, “belong to mollusks. It would appear that, after the mollusk dies and the flesh is consumed by scavengers, the shell is repurposed by the crabs as a…well, a home.”

“Oh,” she breathes. She crouches beside him, using his shoulder to balance just briefly. He wants to offer his hand, but as soon as the thought comes to his mind, she’s already settled and removed the sweet burden of her weight. “Like little spirits.”

“Yes,” Emmrich says. Then, because that was maybe just a bit too much, he clears his throat. “Precisely, Rook. I, myself, was reminded of spirits housing themselves in the vessels of the dead. Fascinating, isn’t it? The way terrestrial nature can mimic that of the Fade.”

[T] from Concrete Flower

“Tell me about that,” Rook said softly, still fiddling with his button. “What do you like?”

“What most men do, I suspect,” he murmured. Her finger trailed down further, onto the next button. She fiddled at it, slipping it in and out of its buttonhole with a repeated flick of her thumbnail. His stomach, very gently, quivered. “My tastes are rather conventional, I’m afraid. I should think I would like to have you once atop me, perhaps, and then after we eat, I could have you again on your back. Perhaps use my mouth—if that’s something you’d enjoy.”

A grin crawled onto Rook’s face—one she did very little to resist, all things considered, because the moment it appeared Emmrich released a soft chuckle, and she could almost feel it in her chest. He was certainly enticing. It was rare that she could find nothing to like about a person. Rare enough that it had only happened on a countable number of occasions amongst the all but countless liaisons. Most people, she’d found, were grateful, amiable, and just a little awkward about the whole thing. Emmrich, in that regard, was different—already, she found herself genuinely enjoying his company, his odd turns of phrase.

“Sorry,” she murmured, still smiling, “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just…the way you talk. I really like it. Reminds me of—”

“Home?” he said, and she chuffed out a slightly chagrinned laugh. “I know, we’re not really meant to exchange personal details, but the accent does rather give it away. Though it’s faint. You’ve been in Tevinter for quite some time?”

“Yeah,” she murmured. To deflect, to get the conversation away from her and back where it belonged, she grabbed the binder—how weird and cute that he was still just standing there holding like a particularly confused butler with a tray—and tossed it over to one of the couches, where it landed with a thud. When she turned back around, he had a hand on his chest and a look of mild concern on his face—the binder, evidently, had been precious to him. She allowed herself a brief snicker. “We can keep talking, if you like, but let’s get comfortable. Do you want to show me the bedroom?”

[H] from No Grave

“Hello,” she says.

“Hello, dear,” he croons back at her, and even he isn’t sure why that particular word drops from his mouth. It just seems appropriate—she is quite a dear thing. Anyway, she enjoys it. A glow suffuses her skin, seeming to emanate from within her. He rests his chin on his hand and imagines himself to look like a lovelorn maiden in some Orlesian tragedy, lamenting her love from the balcony. “What can I help you with?”

“Oh, nothing.” She lifts herself onto the bottom step, but no further, and chuckles to herself as she bends backwards to sustain their eye contact. “I just wanted to…check on you. I guess. I don’t know, you seemed a little down, maybe? I know we don’t know each other well, but you were quiet after we left Rivain.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Emmrich says. “I admit I’ve been somewhat lost in thought. It’s been a very eventful few days for me, and I can hardly keep my fingers crossed for any reprieve when there are rogue Gods to contend with.” He traces a swirl in the wood of the railing—life rings of some tree that perhaps never actually grew. All at once, the melancholy creeps back up on him, and he sighs. “The Necropolis is ancient, Rook. As you well know. At times, it feels as though we’re rather…insulated from change. From the shifting priorities of the world above. Amongst other Watchers, one can forget the ire that the rest of the world holds for our practices and magics. At the same time, it’s easy to forget how…splendorous the rest of the world can be. I’ve been reminded of both those facts since joining this team. A reminder I sorely needed.”

“I know what you mean,” Rook says. “When I first left the Necropolis, it was the first time I’d ever left Nevarra. To say culture shock would be an understatement. On top of the homesickness, the regret, the damned…unfairness of it all, I realized I didn’t even know how the rest of the world worked. But we already talked about me, didn’t we? Do…you want to talk?” She’s already halfway up the staircase before he can fully process what she’s doing.

Part of him wants her to reach the top—the dominant part, if he’s honest. He wants to know what will happen if he accepts her offer, if he opens his heart to her on this landing with the promise of a nearby bed.

It isn’t a good idea.

~*~*~*~

I am utterly intimidated by the idea of tagging people and would, in fact, rather chew off my own arm. However, if you want to do this, PLEASE do and PLEASE tag me. Your keyword will be:

FLAME