#i’ve got enough wips in my folder

[captainskyson]

[gif credit to the talented gif makers that ain’t me x]

Ian’s voice on the phone and SMG as a lead has been FEEDING my fanfiction muses a veritable BUFFET. 😂

An OG Hot Dad from Teen Wolf and the OG Hot Mom - I mean it writes itself.

[littlestarbigsky]

NEEEDDDDD SOMETHING CHERRYFANTA (chetcherrycola) RUMBLE RELATED IF UR UP FOR THATTTT

so anon what’s it like to live inside my brain?? bc i had this idea collecting dust in my wips folder for WEEKS before this ask was sent so THANK YOU for giving me a reason to write it hehe <33

hope this is okay🩷

“it’s been an hour… they should be here by now!” cherry cried as she paced across her bedroom in the same path she had been walking for the better part of twenty minutes.

“i’m sure they’re okay, cher,” marcia said from cherry’s bed, where she had been working on an embroidery hoop, even though she hadn’t made a stitch in well over half an hour.

“you don’t know that,” cherry flopped down on the bed, her face buried in a teddy bear.

“actually, i do,” marcia smiled, and cherry looked up. marcia was pointing towards the window, and when cherry turned around, she gasped loudly.

chet was leaning against the windowsill, soaking wet and covered in mud, his nose bleeding, one of his eyes almost swollen shut. cherry ran over to the window, grabbing a towel from the rack on the way over, and pushed the window open. it was pouring down rain outside, which wouldn’t have been something cherry was worried about if it hadn’t been so cold all week.

“oh god, get in here, you’re gonna freeze!” she wrapped the towel around chet’s shaking shoulders as he sat down on her floor, using the corners to gently dry some of the water from his face.

“soda’s coming soon,” chet winced as cherry touched a bruise while wiping away some of the mud. he spotted marcia on the bed and waved to her, “two-bit was heading towards the west side last i saw him, i think if you hurry you can beat him to your place. he was a little roughed up but he seemed okay.”

marcia let out a gasp and hurried out of the room.

“what happened to pulling your punches? i thought you two were gonna take it easy.” cherry had moved on to toweling chet’s hair dry. a part of him wished she would stop, his head was starting to hurt now that the adrenaline from the fight was beginning to ebb.

“we did,” chet gasped, grabbing her wrist gently and pushing her hands away from his head. “but it was a nasty fight, it would have been obvious if we didn’t even try.”

cherry sat back on her heels, “you think a shower and some cuddles would help?”

chet nodded, and she leaned forward to gently kiss his forehead before standing up and giving him her hands to pull him up next to her. he slowly followed her into her bathroom, watching her turn on the shower and pull out the bin of clothes she hid under the sink for him and soda. cherry grabbed a crewneck and some sweatpants for soda and threw them on the bed for when he got there. she was halfway through helping chet unbutton his muddy madras shirt when there was another tap on her window.

“shit,” chet craned his neck to try to get a better look out the bathroom door. “that’s probably soda…”

“i’ll take care of him, you go shower,” she assured him. he seemed to hesitate, wanting to see soda, “i’ve got him, he’ll be okay.”

cherry patted his shoulder quickly and hurried back into her room, shutting the bathroom door behind her. she pushed the window open, and helped soda through, wrapping him in a fresh, dry towel.

it was obvious from the moment she saw him that he was in much worse shape than chet had been. his lip was busted wide open, there was a slice across one of his cheeks, and cherry was nervous that his ribs were bruised or broken, if his little winces and gasps whenever he moved were anything to go on. as if all that wasn’t enough, cherry could hear the smallest bits of a wheeze under his breath.

“baby, what happened? chet didn’t do this did he? i thought you said you two were gonna keep each other safe,” cherry pleaded with soda, using a corner of the towel to try and stop his lip from bleeding so much. soda didn’t answer her, just shuddered and fell limply into her arms. she tucked his head under her chin and ran her hands through his hair, trying to ignore how much grease was coming off on her fingers.

“they got us,” soda gasped after a minute, his voice full of tears. “on our way over here, they found me ‘nd two-bit…”

the weight of soda’s words washed over cherry and landed like a physical blow. she felt tears of anger and hurt burning in her eyes. the rumble hadn’t been enough, they still had to jump the boys for what? for being on the wrong side of town?

“is chet okay? did he make it back?” soda seemed to realize that he couldn’t see their boyfriend and sat up quickly, only to gasp and grab at his ribs.

“hey, hey, calm down, she held his face in her hands gently. “he’s here, he’s okay, he’s just in the shower because he was all muddy. do you wanna hop in there once he’s done or do you just wanna get changed and lay down?”

soda didn’t respond at first, just looked sadly up at her and mumbled, “…don’ wanna be alone.”

cherry felt something in her heart break, “that’s okay, we can just rest… oh, honey…”

soda blinked and a few tears rolled down his cheeks; pain, delayed panic, fear, it didn’t matter, he couldn’t keep himself together anymore. cherry pulled him in gently and held him close as he cried into her shoulder. he hiccuped and pulled back to wipe some of the blood from his lip onto the towel.

cherry brushed some of his hair back and kissed his forehead, “let’s get you dry and changed, that’ll probably help you feel much better.”

she stood up slowly, reaching out her hands and helping soda get back on his feet, limping slightly behind her as he followed her to the bathroom. he didn’t protest as she got him get out of his cold, wet clothes, dried his hair gently, and helped him into his set of warm, dry, pajamas, all the while with the white noise of chet in the shower next to them.

cherry was sitting on the sink and was halfway through cleaning soda’s split lip when chet pushed the shower curtain open, sighing in relief seeing soda safe. he dried himself off, stepped out of the shower, and walked over to hug soda from behind, careful to avoid the bruises blossoming over soda’s ribs.

“you’re okay…” chet nuzzled his nose into soda’s neck.

soda leaned his head against chet’s and sighed, “no thanks to trip...”

chet looked up for a moment, his eyes briefly glassing over as he realized what sofa meant, before pressing a kiss to soda’s shoulder, “i’m so sorry, baby.”

cherry threw away the gauze she had been using and smiled at the two of them, “alright, you two need some rest, we’ll go get comfy, you get dressed.”

chet nodded and closed the door behind them gently. cherry laid down on the bed and soda crawled up next to her, silently ushering her into the middle of the bed.

“i get to be in the middle tonight?” she smiled fondly at him, smoothing some of his hair back.

soda nodded, a smile tugging at his lips, “he needs you, too.”

chet opened the bathroom door a few minutes later, his pajama pants slightly too short for his long legs, but he didn’t seem to mind. in fact he just seemed to care that the blankets were warm and cherry and soda were waiting for him.

they curled up on the bed together, soda curled up into her side and chet’s head pillowed against her shoulder. usually it was soda who liked to stay in the middle, but they both needed her tonight.

she dragged her fingers through chet’s damp hair, her other hand tracing the lines over soda’s back, his muscles, his spine, his ribs. neither of the boys managed to stay awake for much longer, and even though cherry couldn’t sleep for a while from the stress of the night, it was worth it to see them both so peaceful, at ease for the first time in she didn’t even know how long. it broke her heart and stitched it right back up again to think that she was a safe enough place for both of them that they could just rest.

eventually she dozed off, sandwiched between her boys, both of them curled around her protectively.

[captn-trex]

WIP list

thanks for the tag @jetii <3

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips or close enough, idk, I'm not a cop

these are from my celebration :)

music to watch boys to/ride or die — fox x jedi!reader

you are the best thing — hunter x reader

on your side — wolffe x jedi!reader

you’re gonna make me lonesome when you go — wrecker x jedi!reader

battle of the larynx — wolffe x reader

no ordinary love — rex x reader

writer in the dark — rex x jedi!reader

would you fall in love with me again? — wolffe x jedi!reader

loml — cody x jedi!reader

other stuff I’ve got on the back burner

forging connection — ahsoka x f!reader part 2 (& 3)

fixer & reader at the club lol

shadows of kamino ch. 6 ‘stuck’, incl. OCs Nyx (x Tech), Tiyunne (x Crosshair), Minra (x Hunter)

fives calls you a liar?

yeah these really range in how complete they are lol, a lot are very much just word vomit atm, but I’ll do my best to give you something for whatever you ask :)

tagging: @kometqh @mae-lou-ron @tanobatcher & anyone else who’s up for it <3

[katabay]

sketchbook / the mabinay spring (2023)

I’ve been busy, so I haven’t had the time to finish up some comics I have in my WIP folder, so it’s time for some traditional art from my sketchbooks! lately I’ve been drawing foods and drinks and just recently got comfortable enough with it to start adding some color to them 🍓🍓🍓

[fanby-fckry]

WIP Game

I was tagged by @blitzwhore! Thanks for the tag!

rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. tag as many people as you have wips. people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

Head’s up, I am cheating a little bit, and only listing the WIPs I’ve had on my mind lately, because I don’t actually have a designated WIP folder, and if I have to dig them all up I’ll never get this posted.

(Un)Welcome Guest

Charlie and Vaggie talking idk what to call this

Vaggie confronts Alastor

Second Chances, Fresh Starts

You Can’t Solve All Your Problems by Summoning a Demon

So-Called Bonding Activities

Death and Discovery

Speaking in Tongues

Three Part Harmony

Tails Untold

It’s Not You, It’s Everyone

How to Beat the Devil at His Own Game

RadioStatic Friendship: Lucilith Live Reaction!

RadioApple 5+1 Things

Dom Alastor RadioApple

The Devil You Know, the Devil You Don’t

An Age of Upheaval

Followup Study

An Ace in the Hole

The Little Demon AU

Some of these are their actual, final titles, some are uh… not. A good portion of them are from my UH3 folders, because the UH3 is always on my mind and it was easy enough to dive into that particular section of things.

I don’t think I’m going to be able to think of 20 people to tag, but no harm in trying!

@prince-liest

@i-write-sin-not-tragedy

@icannotreadcursive

@cringefailvox

@godlizzza

@lavendulachronicler

@eggcats

@issushaim

@fletchingbrilliant

@tv-fucker

That’s it, that’s all I got. (I’m specifically not double tagging people blitzwhore already tagged. Also, I’m sorry if I’m forgetting anyone.) If anyone else wants to play, please feel free, and to those I tagged, there’s no pressure to play if you don’t want to! <3

[jerzwriter]

A Moment in Time... (Carolina's POV)

We don't know the ending to Crimes of Passion 2 yet, but I'm feeling angsty...

Book: Crimes of Passion 2 Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne x F!MC (Carolina Rose) Rating: Teen Category: AU / Angst Words: 3,500 Summary: What happens when you find the person you're destined to love forever, but you're forced to do it apart? Trystan & Carolina had a special love from the start, but when they couldn't find a way to bridge their two worlds, they were forced to go their separate ways. Two years have passed, and while Trystan will always have a piece of her heart, Carolina has found a way to move on. But when news from Drakovia brings everything crashing back to the surface, she's forced to relive the pain of losing him again - and this time - is it for good?

A/N: This will be two parts: this one is from Carolina's point of view, and the second part will be from Trystan's. Participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge - Past WIPS May 2023 - Breakup.

Tommy anxiously wiped the bar down for what felt like the hundredth time. It always upset him when business was slow on a Friday night, and he was ready to grumble about it when he caught a glimpse of Carolina sitting at the other end of the bar. Hunched over, with a dozen folders stacked around her, scribbling furiously in a weathered notebook, it took him back to another time. Perhaps things being slow wasn’t so bad, at least not tonight.

Carolina hadn't wilfully created a scene from the past, but Tommy adding to it was quite intentional. Filling a tall glass with crushed ice, he mixed one of Carolina’s old favorites and then placed the beverage before her. Absorbed in her work, she didn’t notice the caramel-colored concoction until her uncle was practically hovering over her. Then, she gazed up with the slightest smile, warming her uncle's heart.   

“What’s this?” she asked.

“A cherry Coke. What else?”

“You haven’t made me a cherry Coke since I was sixteen.”

“Well, you haven’t asked for one,” he grinned. “But looking at you now... you look like the young girl who used to do her homework sitting right here. You were every bit as focused on your studies back then as you are on your work now.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed, shutting her notebook and resting on her elbows. “All that hard work led me to great success. I still live upstairs from your bar.”

“Well, New York is ridiculously expensive!” He smiled. “Besides, Carolina, a person is successful if they are doing what they love and their life has meaning. You have both of those things.”  

“I know,” she whispered.

He gently squeezed his niece’s hand as they exchanged a knowing look. Looking for a diversion, Carolina lifted the sugary drink to her lips.

“I probably don’t tell you this enough, sobrina, but I’m so proud of you.”

Despite her sadness, her smile morphed into the real thing. “Te amo, tio.”

“Yo tambien te amo.”

The bells affixed to the front door jingled, welcoming Luke to the Drunk Tank. He sauntered over and sat beside his friend.

“I feel like I’m interrupting a moment,” he jested.

“That’s because you are,” Carolina confirmed.

“But don’t worry,” Tommy grinned, filling another glass with ice. “I’ve got plenty for you, too.”

“What is it?” Luke asked, his face crumpling as the sugary liquid coated his tongue.

“It’s a cherry Coke. And not the canned crap! This is the old-school fountain-made variety. My uncle makes it better than anyone.”

“What are we, sixteen?”

“No wonder you two are friends!” Tommy laughed.

Luke watched Tommy walk away to greet a newly arrived customer to ensure he and Carolina were alone before he brought up the topic he had been dreading.

“So, uh...," he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Are you doing all right? Seriously?”

The look of annoyance in Carolina's eyes was swift.

“I’m doing the same as I was two hours ago when we left the office. I was fine then, and I’m fine now.”

“OK,” he raised his hands in surrender. “I had to ask because you’re my friend, I care about you. Also...”

“... Ruby told you to.”

“She may have mentioned it,” he snickered, lifting his ringing phone from his pocket. “Speaking of Ruby...”

“Go, go,” Carolina waved him away. “Take the call and tell her I said hello.”  

“Are you sure?”

Her patience tried, she shoved him from his stool. "GO!"

She shook her head with amusement as she watched him retreat to a quiet corner. She knew he meant well, so did Ruby, Mafalda, and Tommy... but none of them understood; fussing over her only made things worse.

“I knew I should have gone away this weekend,” she mumbled, massaging her sore temples with a wince.

Her headache wasn’t going away anytime soon. But seeing Luke grinning like a lovesick fool helped more than any painkiller ever could. She'd never get used to the way her curmudgeonly friend’s face still lit up when he spoke to her, even as they were approaching their second anniversary. She let out a shuddering breath... it would have been her second anniversary with Trystan, too, if...

No! She couldn’t allow her mind to go there. Nervously shuffling her papers, she returned to her work. Focus! She was not going to do this. She had come too far... she was doing too well. These days, most of her smiles were even real. There was no way she was allowing the next few days to undo the hard-earned progress she'd made. The past was in the past, and she was living in the present... exactly where she chose to be. She had her career, her friends, and her family... she had a wonderful life in New York, and that’s what mattered. This was her life, her real life and that didn't include runaway princes and would-be-kings... at least, not anymore.

The television had been humming along in the background all night, no more than soothing background noise, no one paid it any mind, Carolina least of all. But life had a way of bringing the things we hide from to the surface, and two sentences caught her attention.

Sticks and stones could break bones, but the old saying was wrong, words could absolutely ruin us. And the reporter's words were like knives, cutting through the ambient chatter as smoothly as a knife cuts through butter until they landed squarely in Carolina's heart.

She knew she should turn away. Walk across the room and grab a table with Luke. Retire to her bed for the evening. Anything but stand there and listen. But the trap had been set, a reporter bedecked in feather fascinator the bait. Her breath hitched, and the world went still.

“The crowds are already lining up for Sunday’s big event! People are willing to sleep in the street for two nights just to catch a glimpse of their king and his soon-to-be queen....”

Carolina could hear her breath, deep, slow, and measured. She could control that, unlike her rapidly beating heart. She had carefully avoided the coverage. Even as every reporter in the city vied for her comments. She and Trystan had become a media sensation after resolving the Hand of Mahra murders, and as his wedding approached, the public's curiosity was piqued.

She had become adept at sneaking in and out of side entrances and wearing her hood at the perfect angle to avoid recognition. Still, some managed to capture her, and she didn't know how many more plastered smiles she could offer when she said she wished him well. In recent days, she resorted to a terse, “No comment.” But that backfired horribly. The next day’s New York Post headline read: “Jilted Detective Bitter Over Ex-Partners Regal Fiance.” And now she found herself transfixed, still trying to comprehend how it could be. He was once her everything, and she was his; they'd live in each other's hearts forever. But today, she was just one of the nameless, faceless millions tuning in to watch the pageantry unfold.

The reporter described the gilded carriage that would deliver Trystan to the cathedral and the delicate ivory roses his bride had selected for her bouquet. The guest list read like a who’s who of dignitaries from around the world... a list on which her name would never appear. Still, the more she saw, the more she was assured that she had made the right choice. That was a life she could never live.

“... while the details of Princess Jia’s gown are as closely guarded as a state secret, we have been told that it will be an eggshell silk creation made by none other than the groom’s sister, fashion designer Marguerite Thorne.”

Carolina lurched forward; the knife in her heart retreated and plunged into her once more, and she was now mortally wounded.

“.... that’s all for now, but don’t forget to tune in tomorrow! We won’t be leaving Drakovia until the wedding is over on Sunday! Now, back to you, Phil.”

With a loud click, the TV went dark, and she felt her uncle's presence behind her.

“Lo siento, mi nina; I should have changed the channel sooner.”

“It’s OK,” she shrugged. “It’s unavoidable. At least they didn’t mention his storied past in New York.”

“Why would they,” Luke sniffed, returning to her side. “His family wants to sweep that unfortunate chapter of his life under the rug like it never happened.”

“Yeah,” Carolina chuckled ruefully. “Unfortunately... it’s unforgettable for some of us.”  

“Carolina,” Tommy muttered.

He reached for her hand, but she successfully dodged his touch. Pushing back from the bar, she announced she was heading to her room.

“Why don’t you let me....” Luke started, but he was quickly cut off.

“I’m going to my room... alone!”

“All right, but Ruby will be here shortly. Can I send her up when she arrives?”

Riddled with guilt, her face fell. Snapping at her loved ones, who were only trying to help her, wasn't something she liked to do, but they didn't understand how desperately she needed to escape.

“Just... just let me be for a little bit... can we do that? Please.”

“Of course,” Tommy asserted, his eyes landing on Luke's with a stern gaze. “But only if you promise to call us if you need us. We’re here for you.”

“I promise,” she replied with a melancholy smile, then she rushed up the stairs.

She was out of breath before she reached the first landing, even though she jogged five miles every day. It wasn't her body that was failing her, but her heart her mind who wouldn't set her free. It was two years ago, she reminded herself, and they didn’t come to their decision lightly. It was the best outcome, given the cards they were dealt. Trystan felt an obligation to his people and couldn’t leave; her life was in New York, and she couldn’t stay. A nation looked to him as a beacon of hope for the future, but with each day that passed, Carolina felt hers fading. Suffocating in a place that could never be her home.

The final word arrived the night of Trystan's coronation, and in many ways, she could have considered it a gift. After all, it gave her an easy out. Still, they wounded her soul, and even as they were spoken, she knew they were inflicting a pain from which she'd never recover.

“I tried,” King Father Maksim said gravely. “The session lasted into the early morning hours, but I was the only one backing the measure to change the Constitution. The future queen must be another royal or, at minimum, a Drakovian aristocrat. There is no way that....”

“That’s bullshit!” Trystan spat, his face twisted with rage, eyes glistening with tears. “I'm the king! I'm the goddamn king! I'll change it!”

“Son. It isn't that simple. You'll come to understand that the monarchy is more than just one man, more than any one person. We exist at the will of the people; we exist because of the traditions that are in place. If those ideals are eradicated, in time, so too will we.”

“Then let it be! If the monarchy is too weak to withstand the pressure of its king marrying the woman he loves, then it doesn’t deserve to stand.”

“Trystan,” his father sighed sympathetically. “I, of all people, understand.” He turned his attention to Carolina. “It’s nothing against you personally, dear. And you can remain here; no one would bat an eye. I spoke with Eveline, and she’d be delighted to speak with you. You and Trystan can still share a loving, happy....”

“No!” Carolina barked. “Absolutely not. No disrespect to you or Eveline, I understand you have your way of life, but I have mine, and I will never allow myself to be relegated to living in the shadows.”

Trystan’s eyes locked on hers, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “And I love you too much to ever ask you to do so."

Maksim stepped back and cautiously moved toward the door. “Then, it appears you have a decision to make,” he smiled. “I hope you’ll both choose wisely.”

She reached her bedroom and opened the window, hoping the cool evening air would quell the anxiety rising in her chest, but asking the night air to cure a broken heart was a tall order. She collapsed on her bed, clutching her pillow tightly against her chest. Time, she had been told, time would heal all wounds. Perhaps two years wasn't long enough? But as her eyes screwed shut and a single tear rolled down her cheek, she knew. Two years or two hundred, nothing would ever change. She’d have to make a place for the pain, the same way she had when she lost her father years before. It wouldn't be as raw in time, but any wound that cut this deep would still fester each time it was touched.

She could almost feel the gentle mist that fell on the cobblestone terrace. Drakvoia was always so cold and damp, but that night, it numbed her to her bones. The butler had just left her room with her luggage in tow, and a town car was waiting to whisk her to the airport. She wondered if Viktoria and the other Thornes, save two, had already popped the bubbly. An unwelcomed guest who had long outlived her stay. She was an impediment to using Trystan for their own whims, and they were as delighted to see her go as she would be leaving... if only he were by her side.

She knew she had already seen him for the last time. He had been conspicuously absent all day. Their discussions leading up to their decision were long and painful; riddled with anger at the situation, they managed to turn on each other. It was too cruel, too twisted. Fate couldn’t give you something this beautiful, this precious, only to rip it away... could it? They already knew that answer, as they had lived it before.

Resigned to accept that they weren’t exempt from having their heart destroyed a second time, their anger morphed into sorrow. Their pain into grief. They crumpled to the marble floor together, clinging to each other until they had no more tears to spare. Then Trystan lifted her and carried her to his bed to be together one last time.  They prayed for time to stand still, but to their great dismay, it carried on.  When the morning arrived, Carolina woke up alone, a note she would keep for the rest of time tacked to the pillow where Trystan's head had rested just hours before.

My dearest Carolina, I hope you’ll forgive me and not think of me as a coward, but I can’t bear to say goodbye. I want us to live with last night as our final memory of each other.  One final, precious night when I was yours, and you were mine. Fate has been wicked to us, but please know, as I walk through this life, forever longing for your touch, my heartache will be consoled by one thing and one thing alone, knowing that despite our forced separation, I will always be yours.  I hope, in some small way, you will always be mine as well. Please remember me, Carolina. For I will never forget you. Yours forever, Trystan.

Tears streamed down her face as the mist turned to rain, but she wiped them off before returning inside. She was not walking out of this cursed palace letting them know they had broken her.  She could save the breakdown for the plane or when she was back in New York. When she was back in the arms of her family and friends who would help her glue her broken pieces back together, but the Thornes... she would never give them the satisfaction.

Marguerite was waiting for her when she stepped outside her bedroom door.  They exchanged sad smiles before Marguerite pulled her into a warm embrace. 

“You’re better than them,” she whispered. “I’m so proud of you for staying strong. Don’t let them see how much they’ve hurt you.”

“I won’t,” Carolina’s voice cracked. 

Then, her dear friend accompanied her as she descended the grand staircase one last time.  Carolina flatly ignored the few siblings who stood in dark corners.  They hadn’t come to bid her farewell but to snicker and ensure her place in their family's history was done. She didn’t offer them the dignity of an acknowledgment as she exited through the castle doors. 

Once outside, Carolina tugged at Marguerite’s wrist. “I’ve got it from here, Mags. I need to do this alone.”

“If you’re sure,” Marguerite began.  “But I’m calling you the moment I’m back in New York.  You’re not getting rid of me so easily.”

Carolina smiled politely, she didn't know if she could keep someone who reminded her so much of her lost love in her life.  But her heart couldn't handle another goodbye.

“Yes,” she swallowed.  “When you’re back in New York...”

Marguerite diverted her eyes, looking all around the now-dark entranceway.  “I can’t believe he’s not here!”

“No!” Carolina interrupted.  “No, Mags, it’s too hard for him... and for me... I’ll be... We’ll be fine. Somehow, we’ll be fine.”

The two women embraced for a long while, then Carolina turned and walked to the waiting car.  With each step she took, her composure began to crumble.  Blinded by tears, her body began to tremble.  Just a few more steps, she coaxed herself, just a few more steps.  Her hand was on the handle of the door when...

“Carolina!” Trystan’s voice echoed as he rushed down the stairs.

“Trystan?”

He took her face in his hands as he approached her, lovingly brushing her wet tendrils from her face.

“I had to...  I had to see you one last time,” he cried.  “I’m so sorry....”

“No,” Carolina choked, biting her lower lip in a feeble attempt to stop her tears.  “You have nothing to be sorry for, Trystan.  This isn’t... it’s neither of our faults.”

“I love you, Carolina Rose,” he said earnestly. “I swear I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you, and I will love you until the day I die.”

“And I love you,” she wept as they sealed the moment with a kiss.  It wasn’t an ordinary kiss; it was wrapped with a love and an ache few would ever know.  It wove a world of yesterdays, today, and a world of tomorrows that would never come to be into one precious moment.  A solitary kiss that would need to sustain them for the rest of time. 

Mustering up every ounce of strength within her, Carolina pulled back, her hand caressing Trytan’s moonlit face for one last time.

“Goodbye, Trystan,” she whispered as she jumped into the car. “Drive!” she ordered. “DRIVE NOW!”

She wasn’t as strong as she appeared, and if she had stayed another second, she knew she would have crumbled.  She would have done something stupid - agreed to anything if it would keep him in her life, even if she knew it would destroy her in the end.  The driver followed her orders, but as the car rolled toward the exit gates, Carolina turned back once more, only to find a bereft Trystan standing in the rain, watching everything that had given his life meaning disappear into the night, taking her back to a place that was no longer his home.

Since that night, Trystan reached out to Carolina only once. Unable to imagine a life without her presence, he hoped they attempt to be friends.  Carolina politely declined, telling him that perhaps one day, as soon as she fell out of love with him. It would be far too painful now. But as the days marched on, he realized she would never call, for falling out of love with each other was never an option.

And now... he was getting married. The palace’s public relations team wove together a fairy tale that most of the world had fallen for.  It was so convincing that even Carolina occasionally wondered if it was true. Perhaps he moved on, and Jia was real love.  But it only took one glimpse of Trystan on TV tonight to erase all doubt. 

“My Trystan,” she sobbed into her pillow. 

It was so unfair.  Both forced to serve life sentences for crimes they did not commit.

Hours passed, and Carolina cried all the tears she had to give. Convinced that wallowing in self-pity had to end, she texted her friends and let them know she was doing better. She could order a pizza and some ice cream; maybe she’d be all right with one person joining her. She called Ruby and asked if she would spend the night, and she agreed at once.  She was already halfway home but insisted she’d turn around and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Caroline dragged herself into the bathroom washed her face and put on her softest, flannel pajamas... the ones she saved for when self-care was not an option.  Her hands shook as she sipped a cup of chamomile tea, eagerly waiting for Ruby's arrival. She knew she’d be all right.  She had no idea when or even how, but she knew she’d feel better one day. She had to, it couldn't always feel like this.

Several minutes passed and, lost in thought, Carolina was startled by a knock on her door.  Wiping her eyes, she jumped to her feet, eager to fall into Ruby's warm embrace. She pulled the door open.

“Wow, that was fast!” she exclaimed, then the world did what she had hoped for that night back in Drakovia... it stopped on its axis, and all time stood still.  “It’s... it’s you.”

Yeah... I left you hanging there. :) I hope you enjoyed it!

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesbookclub

Tagging separately.

Part Two: Trystan's POV

[aristocratic-otter]

Thank you, @cutestkilla, @nausikaaa, @that-disabled-princess, @youarenevertooold, @fatalfangirl and @whatevertheweather for the tags!

So, once again, no snippets from Saving Simon Snow or The Heart in the Well (still reviewing them to figure out where I want to go), but I've got double chunks of TikTok Dancer and Stars, Flowers, and Children for you (and a normal sized slice of Snow Fox. The next chapter is so close to being ready for posting!).

Then there's COBB and Erotic Gropefest coming. I've got my idea for COBB, and I've already outlined a fic for EG. Big hint...it was one of the unfinished fics I teased in a 'what are your WIPs' last year. And the one I got the most feedback saying people wanted me to write it! I reviewed my fic ideas folder and decided this one is perfect for EG.

And, I've got a question. I've got more than enough content on both TikTok Dancer and Stars, Flowers, and Children, and I know where I'm going on what's left for each, so I'll likely start posting one of them soon. Feel free to leave your vote on which one in the tags, and I'll consider it!

With no further ado, here's 12 sentences from TikTok Dancer

I frown. Surely a troop of dancers on Santa Monica pier isn’t that extraordinary. “Why wouldn’t I believe it?” I ask.

Dev’s hardly listening to me. “I mean, I knew that there was a chance we’d see celebrities in LA. I mean, this is a celebrity breeding ground, right? But right in front of our hotel? And we get to see them filming?” He turns to me as if expecting me to enthusiastically agree with him. I’m beginning to understand that I’m missing some context here.

“What celebrities?” I ask weakly. 

Dev and Niall both freeze, goggling at me in disbelief. This time, Niall recovers first. “You mean you’ve been watching them through the window and didn’t recognise Simon Snow, Agatha Wellbelove and Shepard Love?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Those sound like made-up names.”

Some young Baz yearning, from Stars, Flowers, and Children:

It’s in our fifteenth year that we both finally have growth spurts. Simon’s indignant that, even after he grows several inches, I’m still taller than him by at least three inches. But, not that I’ve got anything but memory to judge by, but I think we’re both man-high. 

But height isn’t the only thing that changes about Simon Snow. I wish it was. 

But no, Simon has now grown from the freckled street urchin with shorn hair that I first saw on board the SS Watford to a full-grown man, with everything that goes with that. He’s powerfully muscular because of all his building work, and his skin is burnished gold from hours in the sun. His bronze hair is grown out into ringlets that are also kissed by the sun. And all the stars of the universe are scattered across his skin in a host of golden-brown freckles and moles. 

Even his blue eyes, though they’re nothing special when it comes to colour, are such a contrast to his sun-darkened skin that they stand out from his face with a lambent light.

From Snow Fox (the smut is done, I just have to get Baz out of the sticky situation I've put him in).

Tarleton is a horrific bore. The arse only talks about himself–his achievements, his family background, his personal wealth. He hasn’t asked a single thing about me this entire time. When our steaks are dropped in front of us by a bellicose server, I’m grateful for a chance to look at something other than his insipid face. I eat slowly, delicately. I don’t want to get to the part of this ‘date’ where Tarleton suggests we retire to a paid room in the local hotel. 

Tags and encouraging pats on the back to the friends above (we'll make it through January) and to:

@artsyunderstudy, @angelsfalling16, @bazzybelle, @bookish-bogwitch, @best--dress, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @captain-aralias, @confused-bi-queer, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed, @skee3000, @frjsti, @facewithoutheart, @gekkoinapeartree, @giishu, @hushed-chorus, @ileadacharmedlife, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @j-nipper-95, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists, @krisrix, @messofthejess, @martsonmars, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @nightimedreamersghost, @raenestee, @rimeswithpurple, @shrekgogurt, @stardustasincocaine, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[crazylittlejester]

DAILY BRAINROT

Okay, so I did some fact-checking and learned that Sky, Legend, and Time all experience prophetic dreams. Although it should be noted that those dreams are only usually about Zelda and the bad guy. Probably so that they don't give away the entirety of the plot.

Side Note: Apparently Wild can have prophetic dreams about horses under specific conditions or something, but he's not really on the list because that's weird and not exactly helpful for Sky Angst.

Anyway, I'm going to take advantage of this and try to figure out a way for Time and Legend to bond over the horrific experience of trying to prevent Sky from dying in the future because I can.

I ended up adding a new document to my WIPS folder, so here you go. In exchange for listening to me plot out how I'm going to torture these guys, I've got a snippet.

CW: this is technically a scene in which a child is murdered

It was dark, only the stars that winked from behind thick, storming clouds providing any light to see with. There was a sharp crack of thunder and a bolt of lightning cut across the horizon viciously. The mud underneath his feet had been sandy soil not that long ago, but the pouring rain had already turned it into a slick surface unfit for traveling. He couldn’t get quite enough air into his lungs, and what he did manage to breathe in was half water, choking him as he spluttered and tried to spit it out. There wasn’t time to take a moment and calm his heart, though, because a large and imposing figure loomed in front of him, a massive steed with armor glinting in the night. Another bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree, and he almost choked for a second time when he recognized the face of the man before him. Ganondorf. The Gerudo king raised a sword threateningly as he struggled to lift his sword arm, only to realize that the hand had been mangled in the handle of a shield and his other arm was broken in more places than one. A weak sound of fear slipped past his lips as the sword came down, the ravenous cold that had been in his body suddenly being driven out by the explosion of hot pain and blood that burst from his chest—

Oooh yeah, limiting prophetic dreams to Zelda and the bad guy was probably necessary for protecting plot. And go crazy dude that sounds awesome >:)

We love Wild and his odd prophetic horse dreams 😔💔

WOAAAAAAH IM SO INTERESTED TO SEE WHERE YOU’RE GOING WITH THAT SNIPPET. Thank you for sharing with me, as always. I know i’ve said it before but i really do look forward to these every day :)

[allbluedepths]

Re: last reblog of “Zoro would have been bored and lonely just like Mihawk if not for Luffy” — what about the opposite? Additionally, I’ve seen more than a couple fanworks with the idea of Shanks asked Mihawk to be his first mate, but Mihawk turned him down, so how about combine the two?

Aka, this is what’s in my WIP folder as what I’ve dubbed the “wings of the emperor” AU. (Read more because this nearly turned into a mini fic, haha!)

Early on after they’ve met, and before Beckman has joined the crew, Shanks wants Mihawk to be his first mate and come explore the world with him. However, Mihawk knows his goal of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman will always come first. And while he enjoys (even if he wouldn’t say so directly, even to himself) his duels with Shanks, he doesn’t have any interest in the actual duties of being a first mate. So, the subject is dropped — but there’s still something nagging at the back of their minds.

(But sometimes, Shanks dreams about what it’d be like to have Mihawk around for more than a few fleeting moments. And even more rarely, but consistently, Mihawk wonders if that ever-growing boredom would recede if chose to see more in the world than just battle. Mihawk can never fully get the image of a very eager and genuine Shanks promising to show him the world if he’d let him. It isn’t enough to convince him… but it’s enough to stick in his mind for a long time.)

Beckman comes into the picture soon enough; Shanks couldn’t ask for a better first mate, and that’s that. Though, Beckman does find out eventually from a (probably drunk) Shanks about what he had offered Mihawk, and while he isn’t surprised by the answer, he doesn’t have the idea of Mihawk being around more. They get along fairly well, actually, balancing Shanks out well as a trio.

(Maybe it’d be worth doing something and getting those two idiots to stop their complicated pining, he thinks.)

Sometime later — think still young-ish Mihawk and Shanks, mid-late 20s and early-mid 20s respectively — Mihawk is offered a position as a Warlord. But Mihawk doesn’t take it, not right away. Because as much as he’s sure he’s not right to be Shanks’ first mate, becoming a warlord would permanently close some doors between them.

Rumors get out that Mihawk has accepted, even though he hasn’t yet, and Shanks is— a lot of mixed emotions, really, when he finds out. Late that night, Beckman tosses out the thought that Mihawk doesn’t have to be first mate to sail with them. Hell, he doesn’t even have to sail with them all the time; he’s around enough anyways, it wouldn’t change much.

…Which is right when the door to the captain’s quarters opens, revealing said swordsman who had come to see Shanks one more time before making a final decision. A decision that goes much more smoothly once Beckman’s words sink in because that’s not a half-bad idea.

What results is this: officially, the World’s Greatest Swordsman turns down the Warlord position, seeing no benefit to his current travels and seclusion on Kuraigana Island to do otherwise.

But word of mouth disagrees: that sometimes, when the Red-Haired Pirates’ ship approaches from the distance, there are not one, but two, silhouettes by the captain’s side.

The truth: While Shanks and Mihawk forever disagree on if Mihawk officially joined the crew, Shanks jokingly-not-jokingly gives him the title of his “left-hand swordsman”, since Beckman is his right-hand man. (This joke gets either much more hilarious or infinitely worse after a certain incident.) Mihawk does spend good stretches of time away and on his own, defending his title and simply enjoying the peace and quiet he certainly doesn’t get onboard. However, Shanks does hold up his promise to show Mihawk the world — including one very particular island in the East Blue.

(I’m cutting myself off here because this got much longer than I expected, haha! I’ll probably make another post about this AU soon with more bits such as some of their adventures, life onboard, Beckman and Mihawk’s dynamic and how it develops over time, etc.)

[sleeplesslark]

Would love to hear a bit more about Please linger! The one Naruto pulls kabu out of post-war jail

Thank you for the ask!

I'm really excited about this one. It kinda hit me as a flash a couple days ago, how I want this to work, and how I want it to differ from my other "Naruto breaks Kabuto out of jail" fic which is meant to be more of a plotty revolution type story.

This fic is more or less about making a place for yourself in a world you aren't sure how to exist in anymore. Both Naruto and Kabuto's arcs in this au were cut off early, and while it's set during the Blank Period (Naruto is 19, Kabuto is 26) the canon divergence is during Tenchi bridge. So they're dealing with the feeling of displacement together.

I tried to edit this snippet, but it's pretty unpolished. I hope you can forgive that. I'm excited to put this out though, once I have more of a draft and direction beyond the vibes I'll come back to it.

Naruto couldn’t remember what happened with Kabuto.

It had been an eventful couple of hours, hardly even a day. They’d arrived at Tenchi bridge around mid-afternoon, and Sasuke and Orochimaru had fled their base by the next morning. The parts that involved Kabuto hadn’t seemed all that important at the time.

He expected Kabuto did remember though. It was hard to imagine Kabuto not turning those hours over in his head since Danzo took him away. Even Kakashi hadn't been able to say how he'd react to seeing Naruto again. Maybe better than anyone, Naruto knew Kabuto could be unpredictable.

Kakashi loudly flipped the page of his book. He hadn’t looked at Naruto at all since picking him up from the Hokage’s office. In all fairness Naruto hadnt looked at him either. The path to the building where the worst of Root’s prisoners wasn’t straightforward.

“If you’ve got something to say,” Naruto said, trying to keep the irritation from his voice. “If you have any advice. Now’s the time to spit it out.”

Kakashi turned the page again, despite the fact he could not have had enough time to read it. Naruto knew how wordy Jiraiya could be, and it wasn’t like Kakashi had ever found another author.

“Oh? I think I’ve said everything I’ve got,” Kakashi answered.

This is the ask game if anyone else would like to participate!

[xtarmanderx]

WIP Tag Game

RULES: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Special shoutout to @tabbytabbytabby for the tag!

This is not the entire list. There are dozens more, but some are just screenshots of notes and some are vague ideas that I don’t remember and would need to read again. I’ve also got tons of ideas scattered in the notes on my phone, but I haven’t made docs for them. Sequel docs exist, too, but most of those aren’t fleshed out enough to be included here.

1. Need a Favor? BuckTommy

2. Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? BuckTommy

3. Happy pride BuckTommy

4. Ryan gets a cat Ryan x Carson (Nancy Drew)

5. BuckTommy parents

6. BuckTommy crash

7. BuckTommyEddie

8. BuckTommy meet the friends

9. Shower Tevan

10. What’s in a name BuckTommy

11. Red eye back to you Carson x Ryan

12. Husks - Buddie

13. It’s all I’ve ever known Carson x Ryan

14. BuckTommy

15. Motocrossed Thiam

16. Rockstar Ryan fic Ryan x Carson

17. Ryan high Ryan x Carson

18. Lost in artifacts and cobwebs of the mind Ryan x Carson

19. The Raekoning Thiam

20. Season 4 Ryan/Carson snippets

21. Ryan x Carson Luce’s birth

22. Tony’s shirt Tony Stark x Stephen Strange

23. X-Men Thiam AU (Icarus)

24. Thiam Jatp

25. Avengers Thiam Big Bang

26. Nope Angel x OJ

27. Jaskier prisoner Geraskier

28. Jaskier nightmares Geraskier

29. This Means War (So Fire Away) Thiam

30. Nope 2 Angel x OJ

31. Harringrove fic

32. 5b rewrite with best frand Thiam

33. The Steady Fall of my Heart (Jurassic Park, Alan x Billy)

34. The Black Cauldron (Thiam)

35. The Crown Jewel - Jett

36. Aftershock Thiam

37. Jaskier/Geralt coffee shop au

38. Josh/Brett/Mason/Theo

39. Hercules (Thiam)

40. Treasure Planet Thiam

41. Josh/Brett/Liam - slaves to any semblance of touch

42. Long fic Jett

43. Thiam avatar

44. Good boys are golden boys (Sean x Garrett)

45. Static hearts Thiam

46. Thiam Prompt 7: Oh the Places We’ll Go

47. Smudges of black - discord Jett

48. Miam mating bites (Mason/Liam)

49. The Lies we Tell are Worth Dying For Thiam

50. Anastasia Thiam

51. Jump In Thiam

52. Thason slow burn (Theo/Mason)

53. When Worlds Collide (Asher x Henry, All American x Light as a Feather)

54. Making Waves - Jett

Tagging @snaeken @imjustafangirl-nobodylovesme @extrasteps @equallyloyalandlethal @osirismind @raybyanothername @purplehoodiesandleatherjackets @theoceanismyinkwell and anyone else who wants to do this!

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

I really wanted to have a WIP ready for Hellcheer anniversary week, but all I’ve got is a half finished outline that taunts me from my notes folder every time I open it up (to feverishly succumb to another bout of Eleverson brainrot). As an apology offering I present a piece I wrote last September called Right Side Up, which takes place about three days after Eddie escaped the Upside Down (because of course he did) and Vecna was defeated (because of course he was).

Chrissy wakes up.

For a moment, she doesn’t know where she is; she’s curled in an unfamiliar chair, covered in a slightly scratchy blanket, and somebody nearby is quietly crying like a child, soft little brokenhearted whimpers they’re clearly trying to suppress but which will not be held back.

Then she hears Wayne Munson’s quiet, disbelieving voice gasping “Eddie?” and everything comes flooding back. They’re in Eddie’s hospital room, Wayne sleeping on a little cot the nurses rolled in for him, Chrissy in a squeaky vinyl recliner tucked into the corner. They hadn’t left him alone for a second, though it had been almost two and a half days since his surgery and he’d been unconscious the entire time. Now it’s the middle of the night and her neck aches from sleeping in the chair but none of that matters one bit, because Eddie finally, finally woke up.

“Eddie, my boy.” Enough dim light spills in from the hallway that Chrissy can see Wayne get up from the cot and hurry over to sit on the bed next to Eddie, carefully gathering his weeping nephew into his arms. “Thank the lord. Oh, my boy.”

“W-Wayne?” Eddie buries his face in his uncle’s chest, his next words coming out muffled, but in the quiet of the room Chrissy can still make them out. “I m-missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, son. I was so worried about you.”

“Am I… am I…” Eddie falters. He sounds so weak. Breathless. “Arrested?”

“No. Don’t you worry about that,” Wayne soothes, his hand stroking through Eddie’s hair. “Some fella named Owens took care of all that, you don’t have to worry ‘bout police anymore.”

“I didn’t…” Chrissy can see Eddie’s eyes, huge and luminous with tears, pleading, fixed on his uncle’s face. “Didn’t k-k… I didn’t k-k-kill…”

Wayne flings his arms around Eddie again, nearly crushing the boy in his embrace. “I know that, baby, dontcha think I know that? I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone. Never thought for one second that any of that shit was true about you. I know you ain’t never hurt anyone.”

Eddie makes a sound, halfway between a sigh and a sob, of pure relief. “Didn’t k-k-kidnap… she needed… she needed…”

“Easy now, darlin’, take it easy, now. Everythin’s alright, we know you ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

For a moment, the silence is only broken by Eddie’s quiet sniffling and the starchy scritch of Wayne’s hand rubbing his back through his thin blue gown. Then Wayne speaks again, and Chrissy is surprised to hear a hint of laughter in his voice.

“As if I’d believe you’d do anything to hurt Chrissy Cunningham.”

Eddie groans. “Don’ make fun o’ me.”

“How many songs you write about that girl? Reckon you’re up to twenty, now?”

Chrissy just barely manages to stop herself from sitting bolt upright. Songs? Eddie’s written songs about her?! When could he possibly have done that?

“Stop it.” A pained grunt, as if it hurt when he shifted in the bed. “You heard… if… if she’s okay?”

Wayne laughs outright now, softly, but undeniable. “You’n ask her yourself in the mornin’, son, she’s sleepin’ right over yonder.”

“Wayne.” Eddie’s voice trembles. “Please stop.” A pained moan escapes him. “‘S’not funny.”

“I’m serious.”

“Don’t… don’t make fun…” A sob catches in his throat. “Please.”

“Ed, I swear, I ain’t makin’ fun of you. Chrissy is fine, and I swear to you she ain’t left this room since you got here. Damn near sick over you. She’ll be so happy to see you awake. I promise I ain’t lyin’.”

“No,” Eddie moans. “No. Not for me. M-mother won’t… let… let her…” His breath hitches. “Wayne?”

“Yeah?”

“Hurts.”

“What hurts, baby?”

“Here.”

“Lemme get the nurse. You had surgery, son, patchin’ up holes in your guts. They’n give you somethin’ for the pain.” He presses the call button, then resumes gently rubbing his nephew’s back. Chrissy can hear Eddie’s uneven breaths, too fast and too shallow, even with his face pressed into Wayne’s shoulder.

Neither of them speak again until a nurse has come in, injected the pain medicine and flushed it through with saline, and checked Eddie’s temperature and vital signs. She wishes them both a good night and reminds them not to hesitate to ring again if there’s anything they need. Chrissy smiles to herself, thankful for the nurse’s kindness.

“Was she…” Eddie’s voice is hesitant. “Chrissy… she’s really okay?”

“She’s fine, son. She’s just worried about you,” Wayne replies, but to Chrissy’s surprise, Eddie starts to cry again. “I was scared,” he sobs. “She needed… me to b-be brave… and I, and I w-w-wasn’t.”

“That ain’t how she tells it.” Wayne’s voice is so loving, so comfortingly warm. “She tol’ me you saved her life. Says you’re her hero. How d’you like that?”

“Sh-she did?”

“Now why’s that so hard to believe?”

Eddie sniffles. “You know why.”

Chrissy doesn’t know why, and she wants to. After how close they’ve grown over the last week, after everything they’ve been through together, why would Eddie think she’d have anything but wonderful things to say about him?

“Well, I can’t make you believe me.” Wayne gently eases Eddie back against the pillows as he speaks. “But that’s what she said. An’ she sat here holdin’ your hand n’lookin’ at you like you done hung the moon just for her.” He pulls the blanket up to Eddie’s chin. “An’ if I thought you’d be awake for more’n five more minutes I’d go get her up so’s she could tell you herself.”

“‘S’a nice story,” Eddie murmurs. “I like her.”

“I know you do, son.”

“She’s… en… enchanting.”

Chrissy feels her cheeks flush warm, her eyes fill with tears. Enchanting? None of her cheerleader friends ever called her anything besides ‘nice’ or ‘pretty’, empty clichés they all tossed meaninglessly at each other, and her ex hadn’t even bothered with that for longer than she cared to remember. It was so like Eddie to give her the best compliment she’d ever heard, when he didn’t even realize she’d heard it.

Wayne is chuckling again. “You be sure to tell her that in the morning.”

“Don’ laugh. She… Chrissy.” Eddie’s words are definitely slurred now; the pain medicine is rapidly making him drowsy. “Chrissy. She’s ‘mazing. Think I… love her.”

“I know you do, son,” Wayne repeats, barely louder than a whisper. He leans forward to smooth Eddie’s hair back from his face and gently kiss his forehead.

“You too,” Eddie murmurs. “Wayne. Love… Wayne.”

“I know, darlin’. I love you, too. Go to sleep, now.”

“You… stay?”

“Course I’ll stay. Got a bed for me right there. I won’t leave you.”

“‘Kay.” Eddie sighs deeply, then his breathing slows and Chrissy can tell he’s asleep.

Wayne stays seated at the side of his bed for a few more minutes before getting up. He stretches a little, his back cracking, then stoops to kiss his nephew’s forehead again before climbing back into his cot. In less than two minutes he’s softly snoring.

She slides from the recliner, slowly so it doesn’t squeak, and tiptoes across the room to Eddie’s bed. She slips in carefully next to him, making sure to avoid the iv line, and snuggles close, resting her head against his shoulder and one hand on his chest, right over his heart. His eyes don’t open, but his breath hitches and she can see his eyelashes flutter a bit. A moment later, his hand slides slowly up to cover hers.

Chrissy smiles, turning her hand to lace their fingers together. Eddie hums a small, contented sounding sigh from the back of his throat. His breathing deepens, slowing into the rhythm of sleep again, and moments later she follows him down.

[formulapookie]

Thank you @vanillow for the tagg🩷🩷🩷

RULES: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs

sooo yeah I almost never name my fics before posting them, I actually have multiple breakdowns trying to name them but I’ve got ahead of me this time and tried to name them all

• I never thought it would've felt so right (marcmarc with Bezz realising his sexuality/feelings) • Drinking down this sensation like prosecco (bezzquezararo threesome fic, I'm working on a part 2 and I'm really looking forward on having enough time to do it properly) • Tanned, shiny and free (rosquez oneshot with Vale and Marc post-reconciliation having a stress free and sex filled holiday) • I get high on your voice (bezzetti car sex fic where Celin is high as fuck, Bezz is driving and they cannot wait to get home to be onto each other) • Giving all of myself to you (rosquez oneshot where Marc pisses Vale off by flirting around post-reconciliation and gets what he deserves once they're alone) • I forget all about myself when you're here (marcmarc petplay series with a caring Marc and an established relationship and a needy Marco who just wants to be praised and reassured through petplay) • What's this burning in my chest? (diggianini jealousy fic where Diggia realises he's catching feelings for his fuckbuddy/bestfriend/first everything and is NAWT ok with it cause you know...he's straight...a lot and Enea trying to keep his already grown feelings for himself because he doesn't want to loose Diggia because of them, since they set the boundary of "this is just sex and we're not even gay we do it for...reasons"

soooo I hope they intrigue you because they certaily intrigue me so can't wait to get to work on them in a serious way and publish them

I'll tag @sammyche @hotmessmaxpress @yamahussy and uuuuuh @yeastinfectionvale (hoping your's not a Uccio or Martin fic) obv no pressure on doing this <3333333

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

https://www.tumblr.com/that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction/772849675255545856/did-i-write-10k-about-a-character-who-had-maybe

Can we pretty please get that George fic? (Just imagine that anon pic is pouting) (also, no pressure.)

Honestly getting it finished isn’t super high on my priority list at the moment so I don’t think it’ll be ready to be posted for a while.

I usually finish a fic and then edit one that I wrote a while ago, so I can go in with a fresh perspective and see any mistakes or things that don’t make sense. By that point, I’ll usually just be writing it for me because I’m seeing too many mistakes and get overly stressed about leaving in anything stupid before I post something. That’s mostly a me issue, people have proven that they’re not usually irrationally awful about stuff, but anxiety never claimed to be rational.

Aside from that though, I’ve got 27 fics to edit and spell check before I’ll get to that one and also 15 WIPs (not including ideas that I’m yet to start) that I’m working on kinda as and when at the moment.

(Then whatever I get sudden bursts of inspiration for, but I’m trying to mostly add those things to an ideas folder to not keep messing with my system)

If I don’t have anything come up unexpectedly with general life stuff or just good old procrastination, it’s at least about 5 months give or take until I’ll get back to the George fic for any edits. Realistically it’s gonna be about 7 or 8 months at best.

Anyway, I’m sleep deprived and rambling now so tldr: I’ll get to it at some point but I don’t think it’ll be any time soon, and I don’t know if I’ll still like it enough to want to post it by the time it’s done.

[fanby-fckry]

💫 - How long have you been in the fandom?

🍾 - A character the fandom has helped you appreciate more

🛸 - Advice for taking care of yourself in fandom spaces

🍭 - How did you get into writing?

🔎 - How many WIPs are you currently writing right now?

Fandom/Writers ask game

Thanks for the ask! :3

💫 - How long have you been in the fandom?

Since a few days after the pilot came out. The person who introduced it to me did NOT expect me to become as obsessed with it as I did, lmao.

I couldn’t get enough. I backwatched all the vivziepop livestreams (including some that now appear to be deleted/private) and all the hunicast streams. I researched earlier versions of the characters, concept art, and old comics. I started working on a hellsona that would later become Dual. I stayed obsessed through the drought.

I may not have been here as long as some of my mutuals, but I’d like to think I’m just as dedicated, lol.

🍾 - A character the fandom has helped you appreciate more

Mm… the Vees. I can’t pick any of the mains, because I was either already obsessed with them (everyone at the hotel during the pilot + Cherri) or just never really grew to care that much (Sir Pentious, I love you but you have not hit the blorbo button at all </3).

Meanwhile, the Vees… I mean, part of it was their canon appearances in season 1, but I also gotta thank poly vees, OneWayBroadcast, and toxic yaoi RadioStatic shippers, trans Vox headcanons, NPD Vox and BPD Val headcanons, and all Velvette posters ever for their efforts.

🛸 - Advice for taking care of yourself in fandom spaces

Curate your own experience!

Block button: Use it.

Tag filtering: Use it.

Word filtering: Use it.

Unfollow button: Use it.

AO3 exclude tags function: Use it.

AO3 mute button: Use it.

Block usernames using word filtering (not tag filtering), because tumblr’s block doesn’t keep reblogs off your dash, but filtering their url will.

Using these tools doesn’t have to be a statement of morality/judgement. Block people who are mildly annoying. Block tags from ships that make you a little uncomfy or that clog your dash. It doesn’t mean you hate the bloggers/ships/shippers/etc. or think they’re terrible people. It’s not a personal insult. It’s not that serious.

Use the tools at your disposal, without sweeping judgement towards yourself or others, and you’ll have a much better time.

🍭 - How did you get into writing?

I’ve been plagued by visions of divine madness since I was a child, and the curse is best relieved via written word.

No, but for real, I’ve been writing original fiction, poetry, and song lyrics for about as long as I could write any words at all.

I got into fanfiction specifically because of a lack of kinky asexual RadioApple smut and a healthy dose of spite. Yeah, remember when RadioApple was a rarepair? Oh how times change.

🔎 - How many WIPs are you currently writing right now?

*nervous laughter*

For Hazbin? Uhh… One that’s currently partially posted on AO3, two Raze Hell fics, five-ish UHverse fics, and many miscellaneous others that I cannot be bothered to count.

I don’t have a designated WIP folder, and instead categorize everything by which series it will be a part of or put them in my oneshot folders, which are sorted by fandom, not by completion status.

I’m also in the process of switching from google docs to ellipsus, which complicates matters further.

Thanks again for the ask!

[kihakugato-art]

The Harriet Pinup Art Project

Session 0- goals and preparation

Out of the sessions this one will probably be the wordiest- my apologies that I can't break it apart with more images! Hopefully the future sessions will have more show and less tell.

Goal for this project-

To make a good enough quality artpiece that it could be printed as a poster or print. I won’t end up making it an actual print since it entails some considerations I’d rather not mess with, but I’d like to at least push my art to that quality. This is my loftiest of my goals but a goal nonetheless.

To finish this piece within the month of September. It’d be nice to get it done sooner, and its equally possible that I may end up finishing it later than that, but I want to take my time with this piece for longer than I normally would for an art piece. I rarely work on my pieces for longer than a week on average.

What is the planned setting/composition for the pinup?

A candid of Harriet sitting on the edge of the deck of her ship (or off of a dock) all chill albeit possibly mischievous. She will likely be holding/eating a grilled fish on a skewer, giving lowkey implication that she snatched/stole it out from the ship’s kitchen/BBQ before mealtime.

The outfit will preferably have shorts/daisy dukes, a top of some sorts, draconian features out (so her lil penguin wings and her long flippered tail, maybe also feathered webbed hands/feet) in her human form for added interest, with a shirtless/tits-out as an additional outfit variant (I hope to come out of this project with at least 2 different versions- a sfw and more nsfw version). Her happy trail must be in view as well as her chest to add to the pinup-ness.

I may also give a canon-compliant colour pallete (so the teal/red/white) for her outfit as well as a non-compliant variant (the colour those clothes would be normally in the real world) depending on how well the colours compliment her.

Inspiration-

Of all things, the one that finally motivated me to think of taking a crack at it, it was the Brazillian Miku art trend. Created by ErinArtista (artpiece link X).

Tanned skin, teal hair, tomboyish energy, the parallels to Harriet are very similar which made it hard not to think about her when seeing the trend spread in full force.

The version that really got me thinking of Harriet in such an outfit was by irreligiositat (artpiece link X) which gave the interpretation of Miku having a big teal happy trail. Being Harriet has a blue-green happy trail herself, it caused the final mental click.

[image source]

Before this I had previously thought about drawing Harriet in “sexy” outfits- especially Mordred’s shorts/coat outfit (no surprise since I credit Mordred for being some of the inspiration for Harriet).

Although other OCs in a pinup artpiece have crossed my mind before, Harriet has always been the easiest to imagine; she canonically sometimes straight-up walks around shirtless or nude out on the deck of her own ship simply cause she’s the carefree type to do so! No other OC of mine is that bold (barring some WIP NSFW OCs that are still baking in the brain oven).

As I’ve been feeling more comfortable/bolder I have grown more motivated to explore this kind of art.

Preparations

Inspiration/reference board/folder

Collect images to assist in compiling/understanding the art being created. I don’t do this too often unless I’m very uncertain about certain details for the art piece. Also being I don’t draw often enough the references help give some guidelines for the brain to follow.

[yes I am well aware of how sus the third folder looks- don't make me bonk you for the obvious]

While the number of folders/images may grow as this project progresses, I am currently starting with 4 folders with 49 different images total; A folder for backgrounds, cooked/skewered fish, outfits (particularly daisy dukes- cause I had some confusion on certain art depictions of them that I had to get clarified on), and various sitting poses that come close to what I’m after. Also Harriet’s reference sheet so we can keep more inline with the iconography of her design (and also help when we get to including her draconic features since I’m not used to drawing a transitional form).

Canvas preparation and tutorials

I’m starting this on Clip Studio Paint with A4 paper dimensions (albiet with a stupidly large canvas size to avoid accidentally drawing too small) with 300 resolution.

For tutorials I am currently starting with only one- how to use 3D models in CSP, since I have never used this feature before, and I feel this could be extremely helpful on quickly getting an idea of what will look best for this composition.

Pretty cut and dry overview, even if it’s a lot of new information to take in. In the future I may use the fancier features of it such as making specific body types (meaning I have help with grasping Demauria and Riivar’s absurd height differences) but for this project we will start/stick to the default body even though it’s not quite accurate

With the new information I imported a female 3D model from the materials section, and selected one of the sitting presets to get started with.

I also imported the top poses from my inspo board onto the canvas so that I can quickly reference from them while working on messing with the 3D model.

Depending on how well I can mess with the poses I may even do more than one 3D’d pose so that I can compare/contrast which I’d prefer for this piece.