#i think if i could've gotten to Are You Ready? there would've been more variety lolol
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Writing Patterns
Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!
tagged by @dear-massacre, @raisesomehale, and @rosieposiepuddingnpie thank youuuu this is fun!
i'm doing only my last ten over-5k fics, just as a fun little experiment :D
Kingdoms Fall (WIP, M, sterek)
Stiles leaned over the jewel-studded bowl, fluttering his lashes as he breathed in the smoke from the burning herbs at the bottom.
The Price we Pay (66k, T, complete)
Stiles ripped the velvet strip off his face and winced, blinded by flames.
Pulling Strings (53k, M, complete)
Stiles bounced on his toes to fend off the creeping chill of the night, gaze darting impatiently between the road and the clinic.
The Stilinski Method (6k, T, complete)
Derek crept along on the balls of his feet, following tiny paw prints in the soft dirt.
Fractured Starlight (64k, M, complete)
The stretch of road between Beacon Hills and Willow Pass was almost always quiet, although Stiles wouldn’t quite call it peaceful.
Every Step You Take (8k, T, complete)
On a typical day, Stiles Stilinski would say his impulse control was shaky to moderate at worst.
The Next Chapter (105k, M, complete)
The photo ripped down the middle.
End of the End (90k, E, complete)
Stiles spotted the group with difficulty.
The Bright Side of Disaster (5k, T, complete)
The Beacon Hills spring farmers market was never small.
Keep Moving (10k, T, complete)
Derek squinted up, eyeing the clouds creeping in from the west.
okay, i'm not sure what all this says about me or my stories, but. there's at least a little variety here. I think? LOL
tagging uuhhhh @cephalog0d @2dents and @halevetica and anyone else who wants to play!
#writing games#tag games#gia writes#sterek#fic#teen wolf#stiles stilinski#derek hale#this was. interesting#idk what this says lol#some of it is action#some of it is just talking#i think if i could've gotten to Are You Ready? there would've been more variety lolol#also a disproportionate amount of Stiles POV but that will change soon#did i spell that right#idk#these are mostly public stories so idk why i feel so squirmy about this#maybe because it's just the first line singled out
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Sweater Weather
I enjoy the headcanon of Doofus Rick having a variety of sweaters. And after looking at stock photos, I was inspired to write this fic. Hope you guys like it.
In this fic Ricks sweater causes some conflict.
____________
In the great vastness of space, one could learn the true meaning of loneliness. For miles upon miles, floating upon nothing, you could say it was like sailing across the sea. Yet, unlike the salt or crashing waves of the ocean, you two would navigate across star systems or avoid asteroid fields, while at the same time enjoy the peace which comes from being somewhere uncongested. However, as fascinating as it was to go on intergalactic, space adventures, one of the things you didn't enjoy was the extreme temperature changes; most of the time, you'd stay in the ship or stay home if a planet's climate was too cold for your taste, but on this occasion, Rick needed an extra pair of hands when you two stopped on Mars after spending most of the day at the Jerryboree.
After Zeta-7 had traded a few items of his own to obtain what he came for at a reduced price, you two ran as fast as you could back towards the ship, but by the time the ship was out of the Martian orbit, you were chilled to the bone. Rubbing your arms, you shivered. "I wonder if I'll ever get used to this."
Your breath came out like a cloud of smoke and the cold that had seemed mild at first had numbed your face and extremities. Rick turned up the heat, as well as turned on the seat warmers and offered you a freeze-dried Phytonian branch worm, but you passed on the offer. You knew it would have warned you up straight away, but the last time you tried one of those things, you had a stomach ache for three days. Concerned, he placed the ship on autopilot and did his best to search around in the back seat for anything you could use to warm up, but then as though it struck him on the head he groaned. "Darn it, I-I forgot that I removed the spare blanket to wash it."
"Where is it now?"
"I-I left it in the dryer."
You thought of telling him that it wasn't his fault he forgot it since you had distracted him this morning with a video about ninja cats, but it wouldn't have helped the situation. "Ricky," you tried to ease him with a weak smile but your teeth chattered. "it's not a big deal. Besides, we're not that far from home."
However, he wasn't convinced. You weren't as experienced when it came to space travel, but you knew well enough of the possible dangers associated with extreme body temperature shifts. The chill you had spread deep into your bones until you thought you'd rattle if shaken; a lick of fear traveling down your spine but otherwise you didn't feel too bad. Nonetheless, Rick was concerned for your well-being, and knowing you two were hundreds of thousands of miles away from your dimension's version of Earth, he made a decisive decision and started removing articles of his own clothing. "Whoa, what are you doing?"
With a blush, he handed you not only his knitted Jerry sweater but also his labcoat; leaving him in a thin t-shirt which had a snoopy patch on the right shoulder; how cute. "I hope it'll s-suffice until we get home."
"But what about you? What are you going to wear?"
Flashing you a stern look which left little room for argument, you slipped on his sweater and lab coat, and was delighted to feel a little more like yourself and relaxed by its scent; it was his essence; that of vanilla, of his home, and something you couldn't quite think of; chemicals perhaps. "Hmm, your clothes are a lot more comfortable than I expected them to be. How um…..how do I look?"
Turning down the lights and switching back to manual, he nodded. "It suits you m-mi corazón."
You admired its softness and passed your hand over the tight, twisted knit. It was a lovely shade of light sage green, and had a picture of a smiling Jerry holding a titanic ship model; you thought it was sweet that it was a picture of his friend. So many things this man-made or owned had a purpose or a story; this piece was most likely made to brighten up the day that the Jerrys in his care were having. Your Rick really was a good man; better yet because he saw the value in regular folk who probably didn't see it in themselves. "I like your clothes, Rick," you commented; your heart warmed by his goodness. "they seem to carry bits of you in them."
"Th-that could be said about any piece of clothing that's been worn. They carry bits of our DNA." he stated matter of factly.
"Eh….that's... I mean I get that, but that's not where I was going with this. I meant that they're soft and warm like you Ricky. You enjoy dressing comfortably, don't you? You own a variety of sweaters."
"Wh-who doesn't? I've sort of been dressing th-the same way for the last twenty or so years but when I met you, I had more opportunities to dress up. However, the older I get, the more often I'm in need of something a-a bit warmer and gentler on my skin. Actually, some of my clothes are locked to my particular genetic signature so that they'll or adjust according to the weather or climate. That way, I'll have less t-to carry on certain excursions."
"Incredible, that'll certainly come in handy, but can I ask you something?"
"Y-yes?"
"I know you're focused on driving," you started, wondering if your assumptions were correct. "but is there a reason why you haven't looked me in the eyes since we left Mars, or am I just thinking too much?"
He visibly stiffened, but he still didn't face you. Rick seemed troubled, for he tightened his grip on the wheel. Maybe this hadn't been the best time to ask, but what else could you have done? If you didn't ask, how else would you have known? Still, if you had waited, you would've noticed the red light blinking on the control panel sooner. It was a caution light, but you weren't so concerned, but you should've been.
Rick had opened his mouth to answer, with a faraway look in his eyes, but in the blink of an eye he made a sharp left turn around some space junk; jostling you two as well as the cargo. That was another thing you hated about space was Earth's contribution to its pollution. Unknowingly, you two had deviated from the usual course by a few miles, leading you two into a dangerous situation. Whether it was the fault of his navigation equipment or his lack of focus you didn't know, but it took a couple of minutes of evading space junk before you two could breathe a sigh of relief. And at the first opportunity, he switched the ship back to autopilot. "I'm s-sorry about that. I'm usually a better driver." he started, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced out the window in search of an answer in the emptiness of space. You couldn't see anything except for a few stars and the Earth straight ahead, but you had a feeling that where he was looking was somewhere you couldn't see. When he was ready, he turned around in his seat to glance at you, but then quickly turned back to face the steering wheel. How odd. "T-t-to answer your question," he stammered. "y-you're not thinking too much. I've just been distracted."
"Oh, okay."
"Are y-you alright? Nothing hurts does it?"
"I mean, other than feeling wide awake now, no harm was done I guess, but what happened? It isn't like you to let your mind wander while we're out here. Rick, would you like me to take over the wheel so you can straighten out your thoughts?"
"No, it's not - I can do it. I got this."
"Are you sure?"
"Mhm, as long as I-I focus on the wheel."
He hadn't really answered your original question, but since you guys nearly avoided death, it probably wasn't a good time.
________
He parked the ship in his garage, and since it wasn't that late, you two walked over to your home. Rick hadn't said much since earlier, but you figured he'd let you know what was bothering him later. As soon as you crossed the threshold of your home, you started a pot of coffee for Rick to drink when it was ready. Then, you got a blanket from the closet and offered it to him just in case he was cold, but he didn't care for one. He was still in a mood, and you wondered if the reason you'd upset him was that you were still wearing his sweater. "You probably want this back right?"
Slipping out of his sweater and labcoat, you felt the temperature difference immediately and took up the blanket you had taken out and wrapped it around yourself. "Thanks for letting me borrow them. I'll be sure to pack something with me next time."
"I'm n-not sure if that's such a-a good idea." he said with seriousness.
"What do you mean?"
The lines around his eyes deepened, as well as the creases of his forehead, and there was a pensive cloudiness of his usually electric blues. Frustrated, he bit down on his lip almost hard enough to make it bleed. "B-because it's distracting."
"What?"
He continued. "I-I should've brought you home first or gotten the parts a different time."
"But I thought you wanted help." you sniffled.
"Y-you don't understand."
"What's there to understand?" you retorted; sinking into the couch as tears stung the back of your eyes, and threatened to come out. "You...you don't want me to help you anymore? I thought we were a team."
Your saddened state shifted his sour mood, and he apologized. "Gosh, please don't cry mi corazón, I-I didn't mean it."
"But you sai-"
"I'm not upset at you," he reassured you. "I'm disappointed in myself for allowing this to happen. I've become complacent and I-I should've been prepared. You could've gotten sick, hurt, or worse just because I got distracted. Next time I'll bring you your own sweater and snacks or whatever you want."
"Is it because you don't want me wearing yours? Did I ruin it or something?"
"No, it's because," he swallowed, unsure how to broach the subject. "cuando lo usas, es… es apretado."
What? You understood the part where he said you used it, but not the rest. Pulling out your phone from your pocket, you asked Google what all of that just meant, but the answer you got didn't help. "Rick, should I be offended?"
"I-I hope not. I promise it's not what you're thinking."
"Then what is it? I'm not getting any clear answers here."
"I um - I'm sorry if I offended you. It's not what I intended to do. I know what I'm about t-to tell you sounds silly since I had hoped I'd outgrow this, but I still feel shy around you."
This much you did know. He was overly conscious of himself, his actions, and how he might disappoint or be lacking, but most of all was hateful of his own inadequacies. Yet, for where he found fault, you found virtue and you would remind him of that, but in this case, you simply needed to listen. "That's okay, I already knew that."
"I don't feel like that all the time, but today I got embarrassed all of a sudden. I-I don't know what happened. Y-you were wearing my clothes and I saw your silhouette in the starlight and I got nervous."
Huh? That's what was bothering him?
"Why?"
"It um - it made me wonder what it'd be like if we lived together and…oh, it's embarrassing."
The hand which he had resting on the couch gripped the fabric tightly, and he was mortified because he had been distracted by you; which under normal circumstances he'd be able to remain calm. Covering his hand with yours, you gave him a squeeze."No, I would like to hear what you were thinking about very much."
Lacing his fingers with yours, you two sat there for a matter of minutes as he gathered his thoughts together. When he calmed a little, he confessed. "I thought about what it'd be like t-to wake up right next t-to you and not be alone anymore. I-I think about it a lot."
"Oh." That hadn't been what you expected. However, was it really so strange? He had intended to propose months ago, but ever since the moment had been spoiled he hadn't attempted to try again; if it had gone well, you two might've been married by now. Though, who was to say he didn't dream of it? Of what he'd always wanted, of a family or of the life in which he needed? Perhaps gentle encouragement wouldn't hurt.
"You know," you responded with a serious, but gentle candor. "you're not the only one who thinks about us living together. I'm very happy here and I love what we do together. And although we've had times where we respected one another's space, I don't mind if that changes. However, there are things that aren't so simple. For example, if I would've known that I could borrow your clothes whenever I liked I would've done so more often. Though, only if you hadn't been concerned about me getting accidentally poisoned by chemicals or radiation. Remember that time you literally fought with the laundry?"
"I do remember," he answered wistfully. "it's what prompted me t-to teach you how to use the freeze ray and laser gun correctly."
"I think the longer we're together, the more our lives will intertwine. Meaning, the more we move forward, the more training I'm going to need to fit into this lifestyle of ours. I think I'm going to need a portable scanner that'll allow me to check your clothes before I think of putting them on."
With serious, but tender eyes, he studied you. Then, he picked up his sweater which sat between you two and wondered. "Y-you want to wear my clothes? A great deal of them have seen better days. Are y-you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure," you brightened. "because I love the way your clothes smell. If you were away, it'd make me think of you and it...I don't know, makes us seem more domestic. Is that along the lines of what you were thinking?"
"Y-yeah."
"Cool. Glad to know we're on the same page."
Relieved, he pressed a kiss to your temple and seemed ready for that cup of coffee. And as you stood, ready to head to the kitchen to prepare it for him, you mentioned. "And by the way, I gotta tell you something important."
"Gee, what is that?"
Striking a pose, you made him chuckle; that was a good sign. "That it's totally cool to be into me and check me out. I don't mind, and it makes me happy that I know what it takes to catch your eye. However, there's an exception: when we're driving around in space, where anything could kill us, we gotta keep our eyes on the space around us unless on autopilot. Only then," you winked. "might it be okay to be a little distracted."
Fin
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