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bookwormythings · 3 years ago

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2, 6, 9, 25 for salty asks! Whatever fandom you need to rant on (i have an idea what it is, go for it and enjoy!) :)

I have only been truly salty in two fandoms in my life: Game of Thrones and The 100. I am mostly over both of them now, but I will say this, while I will be 100% over GoT eventually and may even rewatch next year, I will never be able to watch The 100 again. That said, I'll answer this for both of those dumbass shows.

2. Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?*

For The 100, Murven is the first one that comes to mind. I just don't like them or get it. To be honest, I am not at all convinced that LM and RH had the chemistry to pull it off, but even if they did, having someone who is disabled be with the person who disabled her just feels wrong on so many levels for me. I don't like it and the development wasn't on the show for me to even contemplate.

Game of Thrones on the other hand, had a few that come to mind but one I absolutely don't understand what people saw in Theon and Sansa. I thought Sophie and Alfie had wonderful chemistry but I didn't see it as romantic at all, but they for sure saw each other as comrades and kindred spirits. I do not get it.

6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?*

Clurphy all the way! My special Slytherin pals! Clarke and Murphy should have had a solid relationship on the show but they didn't and if you had asked me about them just based on what I saw on screen, I would have been so confused by the thought. Fandom, especially fics, have just opened my eyes to them and now I can't close them at all. I love their sass together and their weirdass dark humor. Love them now and I won't be stopped.

Jonsa is the one that comes to mind for Game of Thrones. I was grossed out by the sibling thing on the show and how Jon so clearly saw her as his little sister even if I do think Kit and Sophie could have pulled it off if the writers wanted to go there but it was once again fic that made me love them.

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why?

Both have so many and for so many reasons, I don't even know where to begin.

The 100, I don't like Lexa and Echo. They both were thinly veiled strong female characters clearly written by men and were so underdeveloped their motivations rarely made sense. They had almost no characterization that was consistent and anything to love about them has been created by fandom and projected onto the screen. Neither were the feminist icons fans like to pretend they were and both were bland at best.

Game of Thrones, Ramsey need I say more. I also have no love for Stannis and Bran. Both of them were just sanctimonious assholes who thought the sacrifices others made on their behalf was worth the greater good because they died for them and they were special. Both of them were just god awful rich white men. Bran being disabled went no where in the story at all for such a big part in the first season and Stannis killed his brother for power and there was no redemption for me after that. Anyone who does anything for power is just a dick. Also, the moment Bran said, "Why do you think I came all this way." I knew I was never going to be able to rewatched without hating and resenting him.

25. How would you end XXX/Would you change the ending of XXX?

All of season 7 of The 100 sucked and it would be too complicated for a single post. Mostly, I would not concentrate on a stupid green space fog and a cult that came out of no where and focus on the closure for our characters. I don't how any decent writer would spend their last chance to be with their story and focus on a different story and characters for a potential prequel. You get one chance to say goodbye and this is what they choose and it makes no sense and they have no integrity or creativity.

Game of Thrones is easier in the sense that my biggest gripe was the pacing. Season 8 started too slow and then went way too fast. They didn't let the needed development for their ending to make sense exist on the show. They needed a few more episodes or a whole other season to really let that story breathe. That and I would not make Bran the Broken (an offensive thing) king and I would give Jaime the respect of his development deserved. Other parts of the finale I almost understood.

#salty asks #galwithalibrarycard asked #asked answered #the 100 #game of thrones #these are my opinions #i don't care for criticism about them #you can disagree #i just think i am right

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burninghoneyatdusk · 4 years ago

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🎶 (your nina and inej brotp jam?) 📚😍 :)

happy friday, thanks for asking! 💛

🎶: send a character or ship and I’ll give you a song

really sticking with the Sia theme tonight, but I think Bird Set Free is the perfect anthem for these incredible ladies.

📚: shadow & bone, six of crows, or king of scars?

definitely six of crows, but I haven’t read king of scars yet! (hoping to do so soon).

😍: who’s your favorite character & why?

Inej is my girl. I could ramble all day about her. I think I just adore her strength and how even after going through so much, she doesn’t shut down her emotions or compassion and manages to stay true to who she is the best she can. She knows you don’t need emotional armor to be strong, and I think I love kanej because she reminds Kaz of that, while also still putting herself first and knowing it’s not her job to fix him.

grisha wine club asks!

#grisha wine club #gwc #asks #galwithalibrarycard

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folk-melody · 3 years ago

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requesting romione marriage law fics, if you please :) thanks!

Hello anon! There are only a handful of Marriage Law fics for Romione but here's what I could find!

Something Old, Something New by @galwithalibrarycard

Laws Change Lives by YoAngel4E

With Me by @trademarkblue

The Pureblood Knight by @mertronus

Same As It Ever Was by Robot From The Future

Don't forget to leave kudos & comments if you enjoyed! Also, follow @romione-trope-fest. Hopefully you will get more marriage law fics courtesy of the fest!

Feel free to send me asks!

#romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #hp #folk recs #ask #reclist

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galwithalibrarycard · 3 months ago

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32 and you can probably guess which ship i'm gonna ask for... e/R. I'm completely predictable

@echojar Echo! Hi!!! You sent this prompt in 2017, and I am so, so sorry for losing the prompt list this prompt was from and taking seven years to find it again and write it for you. I hope you enjoy this fic and that you're doing well these days, my friend! Thank you for always sending me ExR prompts, because without you giving me that push, I might never have been brave enough to share anything I've written for this wonderful pairing. <333

I've decided this fic starts after E and R have undergone the effort to actually be friends and realize how well they fit together. I just let myself skip right to the fluff and resolution! Still with a little Self-Deprecating Grantaire thrown in, but he's working on it!

***

A Softer World prompt #32. "I think you are beautiful and I would like to kiss you. I can think up some clever lines, if you’d prefer. But I wanted to say that, first. (None of those lines seemed to be about you or me.)"

flirting flashcards

Enjolras cleared his throat, loudly. "Uh, Grantaire."

"Yes?" R raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Wait, are those notecards?"

Enjolras stared at the cards in his hand, determinedly not looking at R. The ink almost immediately ceased to mean anything under his scrutiny, but it was okay. Like most of his speeches, he had this one memorized.

"I... I heard what Bahorel and those guys were saying about you, and it upset me. I don't know much about flirting, or pickup lines. But I know you are not ugly. I think you are beautiful, and I would like to kiss you. I can think up some clever lines, if you'd prefer. I wrote some down here. But I wanted to say that, first. That you're beautiful."

Grantaire's mouth had dropped open. He was frozen in shock.

"This was a stupid idea," Enjolras hissed, blushing furiously. "Never mind."

He started to turn away, half certain, now, that Courfeyrac's urging to do this was a prank.

And then Grantaire started to laugh.

"Enjolras, wait!" He called through giggles, reaching to grab Enjolras' arm.

Enjolras stopped, flashcards still hanging uselessly from one hand. Grantaire spun him around until they were standing face to face, almost unbearably close. His eyes were the clearest, most dazzling shade of green that Enjolras had ever seen. How had he never noticed that before?

"First of all," Grantaire said. "I'm not beautiful." He held up a hand when Enjolras started to disagree.

"I'm not. I'm okay with that, really. I have other skills. And I hope you already know this, but if anyone who's not Bahorel called me ugly to my face, Bahorel would punch their lights out in a second. He's a good sort. He's one of my best friends.”

“I guess I did jump to conclusions there. Bahorel is a good man. Sorry about that, friend.”

Enjolras addressed this last to the man himself, who was sitting a few seats down the bar, chatting with Lesgles. Bahorel nodded to Enjolras and raised his glass good-naturedly.

“No worries. Hey, R, just let me know if you ever need me to punch our fearless leader for you!” He called with a laugh.

“You could still be nicer to him, you know,” Enjolras pointed out to Bahorel.

Grantaire ignored this exchange. “Actually, can we not do this in front of the peanut gallery?”

He grabbed Enjolras’ hand, leading him to the back room of the Musain and closing the door. Grantaire’s hand was rough, scarred and calloused from too many punches thrown and too many paintbrushes brandished. Enjolras relished the knowledge, tucking it away with all the other bits and pieces he’d learned about R, ever since they’d somehow actually become friends.

Enjolras quickly found himself pressed against the door of the dim little room, staring nervously at Grantaire in front of him. It occurred to him that he’d forgotten to account for what to do if his flirting worked. He’d never gotten this far with anyone before- had never wanted to, really.

“Now,” said Grantaire, voice gravelly. “Are you fucking with me, or did you seriously just say you wanted to kiss me?”

“I… is that so hard for you to believe?”

Grantaire snorted.

“What?” Enjolras said defensively. “I think about kissing. Sometimes.”

“I’m more surprised about the part where it’s me you want to kiss,” Grantaire admits, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Up until a few weeks ago, I sort of thought you hated me.”

“I did. A little,” Enjolras admits, then backtracks at speed when Grantaire’s face falls dramatically. He looks devastated, and Enjolras hates himself for it, now.

“I knew it. I’m the thorn in your side, poking holes in all your ideas. I’m an ugly asshole and a drunk. You’d never touch me.” Grantaire says it all in a rush, retreating into himself, all his bravado gone.

“You shut up,” Enjolras orders seriously. “Don’t talk about my- my friend like that.”

“W-What?” Grantaire blinks.

Enjolras starts towards him, slow, calm.

“You challenge me,” he says. “You make my speeches, my ideas, so much better, because you don’t let me off the hook for anything.”

“I’m just giving you shit-“

“No, your ideas are good. They are!” He insists when Grantaire goes to protest. “You’re clever and you’re thoughtful and genuinely well-read, and it’s my fault for not noticing that just because you communicate primarily through sarcasm.”

Enjolras has crossed the room now, reaching out a hand, going slow so Grantaire has time to react, to push him away. He doesn’t, so Enjolras leans in, cupping his rough, stubbly cheek in one palm.

“Your face,” he says, “is so unique. So real and expressive. I like to look at you. So much that I don’t usually let myself do it. That would be giving myself away.”

Grantaire snorts. “Wish I had that self-control.”

“I like that you look at me,” Enjolras pushes back. “I wish you’d see my imperfections, though. It’s exhausting sometimes, trying to get people to see my ideas instead of my face. I’ll never understand why anyone at our rallies cares how I look.”

Grantaire mumbles something about pretty privilege. Enjolras lets that one slide- R’s probably right, after all.

“The point is, I like you, Grantaire. Your mind, your art, and yes, your scars. Would you let me show you? Please?”

Enjolras is not one to beg. He lets the statement sit, watching the emotions flit across the other man’s face, admiring each change and contour even as he internally panics about their meanings.

“I… really?” Grantaire manages, staring at the ceiling, taking off his beanie with one hand. “What the hell is my life?”

“Is that a yes?” Enjolras asks patiently, and Grantaire laughs.

“Fuck. Like I’d ever say no. Come here.”

He steps into Grantaire’s arms, then, and it takes some getting used to. He doesn't hold people like this often, but he finds he likes that he can rest his chin against the nest of dark curls on R’s head, and even more the feeling of R’s muscular boxer’s arms around him.

“I like our height difference, how I can tuck you close to me. I like how firmly you hold me, how strong you are,” Enjolras told him softly, caressing his surprisingly toned biceps.

He could feel Grantaire bristle in disbelief, so he pulled away, taking one calloused hand in his and pressing his lips to R’s knuckles.

“When I said I want to kiss you, this is what I meant,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire blushed redder than Enjolras had ever seen him.

“I like your hands, how much they’ve done and held, how you use them to make us posters and signs. How you’d use them to defend any of us, even if it wouldn’t make any difference.”

"It usually doesn't."

Still bent over his hand, Enjolras looked reproachfully up at R through golden lashes and was gratified to see those green eyes darken with lust.

“I like your scars, and your stubble,” Enjolras continued, rising to his full height again, pulling Grantaire closer. He kissed as many of the acne scars as he could find, peppering kisses across rough skin that felt like heaven under his lips.

“I like each wrinkle,” he kissed the lines in R’s forehead. “And the shape of your thrice-broken nose.” He kissed the tip of it, feeling puckish.

“I like your smile lines,” Enjolras murmured, kissing the corner of Grantaire’s mouth where those were.

“I like your mouth- although I’d like it if you found other uses for it than arguing with me, once in a while.”

“Enjolras-“ Grantaire sputtered, astonished.

It made Enjolras grin. He loved catching R off guard, surprising him the way R had been surprising Enjolras as long as he’d known him.

“I want to help you see yourself like I do. I like your eyes and your hair and your-“ he continued, burying a hand in those perfect curls at last, and Grantaire whined.

“Will you shut up and come here already?” He growled, pulling Enjolras in and finally kissing his lips.

Victory, thought Enjolras, tasted like cigarettes and licorice, heady and consuming and Grantaire all the way through.

Enjolras didn’t often do this kind of thing, didn’t often want to. Somehow, Grantaire had pierced his armor and ensnared his desire, and he gave in, gladly. He explored Grantaire’s mouth with his tongue and sucked experimentally on his lip, his breath catching in his throat as the other man palmed his ass.

He felt heat rushing through his body, straight to his cock, and then all at once a welcome hardness pressed against his hip, Grantaire pressed against him.

“Oh. I like that very much as well,” Enjolras panted between kisses. “Very much indeed.”

Grantaire groaned and held him closer. “You’re gonna kill me,” he panted. “You are actually gonna…”

And then he was kissing him again, and there were no more words.

Later, they’d come up for air. They'd both be uncomfortable until they got home, but they knew better than to go much further here in the Musain; they’d catch hell from their friends for this anyway.

When they did reluctantly break apart, it was to notice the floor, covered with the notecards Enjolras had let fall in his haste to prove himself to Grantaire.

“So, I guess those worked,” Grantaire said sheepishly, nodding at the pile of cards. “Remind me to write you a list of all the things I love about you, in return. You’re making me look bad, angel.”

“Me? Never.” Enjolras bent down and started gathering the cards. “I didn’t use most of these, anyway. None of them seemed to be about you or me.”

Grantaire picked up a card and immediately started to laugh. “Are you from Tennessee, cause you’re the only ten I see?” he read. “Seriously?”

“Courfeyrac wrote that one!” Enjolras insisted, mortified.

“Oh, sure,” R teased. “What’s this one? Roses are red, violets are blue-“

“I’m never going to live this down, am I?” Enjolras sighs from the ground.

“Never, my dear.”

Grantaire dove for more notecards, reading them out so over-the-top poetically it made Enjolras laugh to the point of tears.

It was a good thing that beautiful, imperfect man was worth it.

#asks tag #galwithalibrarycard fic tag #echojar #les mis #les miserables #enjoltaire #enjolras x grantaire #otp: do you permit it?#haven't written my beloved boys in years i hope this is at least a little in character for an exr who get to live and fall in love #modern au i suppose

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monstrous-femme · 10 months ago

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Tagged by @yxlenas to find some random words in some random WIPs

My words are: hell, stop, waist, hour, right

Tagging @galwithalibrarycard @flowersandstarlight @runawaymarbles @bus-ghoul and @goonflower

Your words are: loser, night, evidence, spider, and pain

From like a damaged nerve, like a dark bird

“You’re a bard and I’m coming to meet you. Outside the Met. Four hours form now,” she says, and hangs up before Eddie can say he has work, or that he’s too busy, or anything else that hasn’t happened yet but easily could happen this time. It’s a Tuesday in the middle of summer, the summer right after she graduated and hasn’t found a job yet. She leaves the city, then drives like a bat out of hell for as long as she can before finally hitting the New York traffic.

and

Nancy looks out at the water. “I guess you’re right,” she says softly. The thought of never getting to hold Robin again, never getting to kiss her like she so badly wants to, is a vice around her ribs that is only slightly loosened by the thought that she might have those things with Chrissy. “There’s no real reason not to, is there?”

from an upcoming ronance smut fic

“Sure,” Robin says. She slides ungracefully from her bar stool and joins Nancy on the dance floor, where Nancy’s arms move to around her waist (fantastic, 10/10), but her leg remains woefully far from being between Robin’s legs (reasonable but also greatly disappointing.) “I can’t believe you just struck out,” Robin says. “She looked so into you.” That’s what a chill, regular person who doesn’t have a giant crush on Nancy would say, right? Probably? Maybe?

from my abandoned Trobed fic

“Well, I was in town for my annual Bingo tournament, and we all went out to the bar to celebrate when who should I see but my good friend Jeffrey! Of course, I came over to say hi, and to my complete surprise—but delight, of course—when I asked if I could buy you a drink, you said, and I quote, ‘I suppose I can’t stop you.’ And the rest was fate, of course!” “And this is a real, legally binding marriage?” “Well of course, nothing but the best for my marriage! And the great news is, it’s legal in Colorado too, so we’ll be able to bring it home with us! Tell me, whose apartment should we live in? Full disclosure, mine’s a little messy, but it’s all part of the Craig Pelton charm, that’s what I say. Of course, there’s quite an argument to be made for your apartment too! Who knew that being married would have so many things to consider?”

and

“Troy, are you suggesting that we drive three hours to middle of nowhere Nevada because the name of the place makes you giggle?” “Well, are you suggesting we sit around for another three hours waiting for Annie to text us back when they’ve clearly all ditched us?” “Well, to get there we’d need a car.” Slow pan to the dresser, where Jeff had conveniently left the keys to his rental car before going out last night. Abed’s face curves into a smile. Across the room, Troy’s smile is identical. “Well, I guess we’re going to Gold Butte.”

#my writing #idk man idk #tag games #i don't have very many WIPs so I had to double up

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galwithalibrarycard · 15 days ago

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trick or treat???? -miz

@miz-chase Alas, I don't have enough of the Celia Booth season five fic written to share any more snippets without spoiling everything I've written so far. But I did find a little unfinished Angela drabble from the vault for you!

Love is fleeting. That's what Angela's always believed. But just because it ends, it doesn't mean the love was any less real. Brennan once told her, you can love a lot of people in your life, but there's only one person you love the most. She had no problem with saying those words, usually. Sporadic phone calls with her father often ended on an "I love you, dad." She told Brennan she loved her all the time, her best friend, her sister. She held Michael Vincent close and whispered the words every night before she put him to bed. It had been easy enough to say it to romantic partners at first. She'd said it to her first high school boyfriend, right before he dumped her. She said it to Roxie the night she sat for the painting, the night that Roxie's color-stained hands had traveled across her body, softly, artist's hands tracing across her breasts and dipping down along her torso, and further. Then, a few months later, she broke Roxie's heart. She told Grayson she loved him, when they burned together in the darkness of the ocean, in Fiji. He said it back, moaned it, his deep voice rumbling through her as she cried out her pleasure. The next day they left the island on separate boats. She said it to Hodgins, a thousand times. In Cleopatra's bed, while he stroked her hair and handed back a lost earring. On date nights, random moments in the lab, or her office, or the Ookey Room. After the tough cases, the ones that shook them to their cores.

#asks tag #miz-chase #trick or treat #angela montenegro #canon bisexual angela montenegro #galwithalibrarycard fic tag #bones #bonestv #bones tv #gifs

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galwithalibrarycard · 3 months ago

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Hey, could you do #2 or #33 from the prompt list for beadick?

Hi, Anon! You sent this on December 10, 2017, and then I lost the prompts list I was working from at the time and never wrote you a fic. I finally thought to just check my tumblr history from Dec. 2017, and I found the prompts post! I apologize deeply for taking seven years to get back to you, and offer this fluff in recompense. Enjoy!

Prompt: 33. I cannot help but notice we are sitting-in-a-tree. So, you know, maybe we could think of something to do… verb-wise. (I want us to gerund, essentially.)

Sitting in a Tree

Benedick had gone through a lot when he moved to Auckland. He’d been a lonely kid, for a long time. But one of the silver linings was the beautiful, perfect climbing tree in the yard outside his house. He liked to sit up there to watch and listen to the birds, to read books, to watch the world go by. It was peaceful. It was fun.

He climbed up there much less often, now that he was a great big Year Thirteen with a reputation to uphold. But some things were worth looking a little silly. And it was hard to be sad when climbing a tree.

So now, when his house had become Beatrice's refuge after Hero's birthday disaster, and Ben couldn't stand the sadness on Beatrice's face a moment longer, he knew what he had to do.

"Come with me," he said, grabbing her hand, trying to pull her up off his bed, where she'd been moping for the last hour.

She looked at him, her face the picture of skepticism. "Where are we going?"

"Just trust me," he said, ignoring the electricity of her skin against his as he entwined their fingers. "Leave your phone on the desk and follow me. It'll be fun, I promise."

He led her out to the yard, having her keep one hand over her eyes to maintain the surprise.

That was a good thing, because if he got close enough to cover her eyes himself, he might actually die from touching her. It was like a drug, the rush of happiness and heat just being near her now gave him. He felt horribly guilty for feeling happy about anything, but it couldn't be helped.

Beatrice turned her head in surprise when she heard the front door close behind them, but she didn't move her hand or open her eyes. She was still holding Ben's hand, letting him help her down the front porch stairs. By the time they were standing at the base of the tree, Ben was gratified to see she was smiling.

"Keep them closed," he said, then reluctantly dropped her hand, sacrificing her touch so that he could jump and grab the lowest branch. He climbed up to his favorite spot, where the branch was thick and wide enough for two. "Okay, open them!"

"Where- oh my god!" Beatrice gasped, bursting into shocked laughter at the sight of him up the tree. "What are you doing up there?"

"Come and join me, love," he grinned, holding out his hand and gesturing for her to climb.

“In a tree?”

“Why not? Better than sitting around inside, right? It’s a perfect tree-climbing day!” He spread his arms, indicating the world around them.

"You're ridiculous," Beatrice said, but she started to climb.

"Yesss!" Ben said triumphantly, indulging in a fist-pump. "Keep coming."

"Oh my god," she huffed again as she pulled herself up the lower branches. "I haven't done this in years! When did it get so hard?”

"You've got this, you're almost there," he encouraged, offering a hand.

Bea allowed him to stabilize her, giving her the boost she needed to make it up to his branch. She fell into place next to him, leaning in against his body as she settled herself. Ben was holding a smaller branch in one hand for balance, but his other hand ended up wrapped around her, resting on her waist, and she didn't pull away.

"Hi," she said, breathing heavily. She was smiling again, bright and beautiful, and he couldn't look away.

His voice shook slightly as he answered, "Hi."

Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead against hers, and they sat there for a long moment, catching their breath.

He felt her turning her face away, eventually, and opened his eyes to see her taking in the breathtaking view of Auckland from the tree.

"It's beautiful," she gasped, taking in the trees, the earth, the distant horizon.

Ben was maybe, sort of, kind of in love with her. But that didn't mean he had to be a vomit-inducing cliche. So he did not allow himself to do that cheesy-ass thing where he answered "yeah, it is," while really referring to Beatrice. She was beautiful, but that was beside the point.

"I told you that you should trust me," Ben said instead.

"Yeah, yeah. But tree-climbing? You're adorable."

“I do my best.”

Beatrice sighed, tucking her head against his shoulder. “Hero and I used to climb trees together. And go to the beach, and ride bikes. Everything was simpler then.”

“She’ll be okay, you know,” Ben said softly. “She’s strong. She has to be, she’s a Duke. She’ll get through it.”

“She shouldn’t have to, though.”

“No, she really shouldn’t. Offer’s still open to punch Claudio in the face, by the way. I’ve never hit anyone before, but it can’t be too hard.”

“If anyone is punching Claudio, it’s me,” Beatrice said. “I know he’s not worth the trouble either of us would get in, but god, I want to, anyway.”

“You should bring Hero over here, if she misses tree climbing,” Ben changed the subject. He didn’t want Bea to dwell too much on what she couldn’t change. “We don’t even have to be there with her. This tree’s a good place to think. To be alone.”

“Is that why we never climbed it together… before?“

It was the first time either of them had brought up their old friendship, from before they hated each other. It was fragile, delicate. One wrong move, Ben knew, and they could be back in that same fight.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply. “Losing your friendship is the worst mistake I ever made, and I still don’t know what I did.”

“You told me you didn’t believe in long-term friendship. You didn’t want me.” Bea’s voice was small, not angry but hurt. It killed him. He did that to her.

“You were leaving,” Ben said. “For Wellington. And I thought ‘keep in touch’ was just empty words. No one else ever kept in touch, when I moved. I thought it’d hurt less. To end it early.”

“I would’ve kept in touch. I would,” she insisted, and it sounded like a confession.

“I know that now.”

They took a moment to process, watching the clouds go by.

"So... you know that thing we're not talking about?" Beatrice asked, focused entirely on the loose bit of bark she'd been picking from the branch next to her. "That thing that happened the other day, after we filmed that video?"

"That thing where you kissed me?" Ben said. "Believe me, I have not stopped thinking about it since."

"Me too. I mean, me neither."

Silence fell. The branches creaked around them, a light breeze tickling the leaves and their faces alike. Beatrice succeeded in ripping off the piece of bark, letting it fall to the grass below.

The endless waiting was unbearable, anxiety thrumming under his skin. Ben was sure she was going to say it was a mistake, that they should never do it again, and he was going to have to act like everything was fine. He was going to have to find a way to climb out of this tree without dropping any of the pieces of his shattered heart. He couldn't take the waiting anymore.

"So..." He started, heart in his throat.

"So." Beatrice looked up, meeting his eyes at last. She offered a small, hopeful smile. "I can't help but notice we are sitting-in-a-tree. So, you know, maybe we could think of something to do… verb-wise."

"Ah," Ben said. "Essentially, you want us to gerund. Again."

"Yes, you dork. I've been waiting for you to make a move!"

"You should've said so! I didn't want to push-"

She leaned in, grinning, lips just millimeters away from his. “Ben. This is me, saying so.”

And then she put a hand to his cheek to pull him in, and they were sitting in a tree, experiencing a perfect gerund.

Her lips were so soft, so warm against his. The world was her mouth, her skin, her scent. All he knew was Beatrice, and she was everything.

And then the swoop of fear in their stomachs and the horrible, wide-open sensation of falling. Bea broke away from the kiss and screamed.

They’d instinctively started to tilt, leaning into each other and back, as though they were against a wall and not on a tree branch with no support. Beatrice’s arms pinwheeled in the air as she tried to catch her balance. The horrible future seemed to play out in front of Ben’s eyes- Beatrice falling, falling away from him.

He wasn’t about to let anything happen to her.

Fortunately his arm was still around her waist, and somehow, he scrabbled for the branch he’d been holding and grabbed it. By some miracle, his skinny noodle arms were strong enough, and he kept them both upright.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he promised as she trembled against him.

“Fuck!” She shouted, clinging to Ben as their heart rates started to normalize again. As much as possible given their close proximity, anyway.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, we shouldn’t have-“ Ben started, mortified that his stupid tree-climbing idea almost went so wrong.

“No, we absolutely should,” Beatrice said firmly. “Just maybe on the ground next time.”

“Sitting in a tree not all it’s cracked up to be?” Ben teased.

Bea snorted, and that was all it took before they both started to laugh hysterically. Adrenaline will do that.

“All right, dickface. Race you to the bottom?” she challenged when she’d caught her breath.

“You’re on.”

Ben didn’t think he’d ever climbed down from this tree so fast in his life. Beatrice still won, though. He didn’t mind that so much, since he was her prize.

Sitting in a tree was fine, and all. But pressed up against a tree, being kissed by the love of your life until you forget your own name? Way, way better.

#asks tag #fic prompts #galwithalibrarycard fic tag #beadick #otp: team blessed #nmtd #nothing much to do #i promise never to let prompts go unanswered for this long again lol

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galwithalibrarycard · 1 month ago

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Any ideas you'd like to share? I'm curious about any aus you may be working on

It’s interesting, because I tend to write a lot of either canon-compliant missing moments fic or canon divergence AUs, rather than transplanting characters into an entirely new universe. So most of my fic ideas aren’t true AUs, but I do have a few.

Of course there’s the Bones mermaid AU, which I’m still thinking about. I’m also loving the butch woman Booth AU that @miz-chase has been talking about lately, I’m tempted to write some of that but we’ll see. Then I have the AU where everything’s the same but Booth/Brennan/Hannah are a polycule, which I love, and I want to write Booth and Hannah both taking care of Brennan when she has a rough day in that AU.

Outside of Bones, I’ve been thinking a lot about a Rizzoli & Isles My Fair Lady AU, inspired by miz-chase’s post about Rizzles Anastasia AUs. I just think it would be really fun to have Jane as the Eliza Doolittle and Maura as the Henry Higgins (though less of an asshole than Higgins is, of course). There would be a lot of unpacking the classism of giving Jane her high society makeover, and Jane being butch and hating forcing herself into the high-class hyperfeminine persona, and Maura realizing she doesn’t actually want to change Jane, she loves her as she is. I just love the idea of a Rizzles “I Could Have Danced All Night” moment- “I only know when she began to smile at me, I could’ve danced, danced, danced all night!” I’m working on an outline for this AU, I don’t know if it will become a full fic, but I’m having fun with it either way.

Then there’s my Hacks fic where Ava has ulcerative colitis, which I guess is an AU in that the ulcerative colitis isn’t canon and in that it’ll be in a version of the end of season 3 where Ava and Deborah aren’t in as bad of a place in their relationship as in canon, because a lot of the fic will be hurt/comfort and Deb taking care of Ava through her first colonoscopy and the diagnostic process. This one is very self-indulgent and I’ll understand if some people don’t want to read the bathroom-heavy details of having UC. But I have to live it, so I think I’m allowed to write about it. I won’t go that graphic but I will be honest about it.

I also have a Stranger Things fic I’m working on for a friend, in her Ronance riot grrl AU verse. And I’ve always wanted to do a Nothing Much to Do Beadick mermaid AU as well, maybe eventually it’ll become more than a concept. Oh, and you’re probably not familiar with this fandom, but I have a Graceland (TV) fic on the go where Mike has a dream of Charlie’s sauce night story with himself and Charlie in the romantic lead roles in Inquisition Italy, but I don’t know if that counts as an AU because it’s the regular universe character just having a dream.

Anyway, yeah, I have GOBS of fic ideas on the go and so little time to work on them all, alas. How about you? I know about your canon divergence Bones fic, but any other AUs you want to talk about? I’d love to hear!

#asks tag #renee561 #AUs #galwithalibrarycard fic tag #bonestv #rizzles #hacks hbo #gracelandtv #thanks for asking! :)

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