#the wip for the first snippet does not have the plot it sounds like it does

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: News Crashing

Poly!TaskForce 141 x Omega!Reader

The Omega Pack Plan Masterlist

Summary: A change in procedure around base causes you to spiral as your world comes crashing down. There's only one way out of this and it starts with telling the truth.

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety, Existentialism, Misogyny, Dismissive Attitudes, Angst, Rage

Mentions of: Medication,

A/N: Honestly, I'd been inspired by a few series (Standard Emergency Protocol and Pantry Solutions) I've read those and it caused me to want to write my own ABO COD AU, so I started this as a sort of funny fic awhile ago. I'm haven't entirely plotted out the whole story, but I have some ideas for the first few chapters. I was finally inspired to finish and post it because @cringeycookies liked the snippet I posted in a wip tag game. So thanks to everyone who inspired me, and a special thank you to @penelopepine for helping me with the dialogue and Price's reaction as I try to begin writing for them.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the nurse responds, "we're no longer authorized to refill suppressants of any kinds for any purpose." With a push of the empty orange pill bottle back across the counter in your direction, she offers you an ugly forced smile.

"Is there really nothing we can do?!" You complain incredulously, "Nothing at all? What am I supposed to do with this?!" Taking the emptied bottle into your hands, you stare at the nurse with widened eyes and a wild look.

"There is no 'we'..." she rolls her eyes in response, focus returning to the papers before her. "But if you insist, you can always bring it up with your CO, or the Base Commander." She scribbles something out on the page, but you can hardly focus when your world is virtually crumbling apart around you. "Now if you don't mind, some of us actually have work to do around here."

Still stunned, you can't help the way your breathing picks up as your heart begins to race. About a month ago now there was a base-wide meeting where they'd finally cracked down and implemented a new program the government is trying out: OPP. The Omega Pack Plan. While it's uncommon for Omegas to even be recruited into the military to begin with, such a thing does exist. Regardless, the Base Commander gathered everyone in the Auditorium for a presentation to talk about the new program and how the army would implement it into the troops. Luckily, considering you're on an elite Task Force, it doesn't apply to you. At least... it didn't.

"What the hell is this?!" You yell, tossing the orange bottle in his direction.

He'd heard the stomps all the way down the hall and smelled you coming, so he's neither surprised by your appearance, nor startled by the toss of the bottle. John swiftly catches it in his hand as he looks up at you. "What?" He inquires, finally glancing down to examine what he's caught. "A pill bottle?"

"Captain, it's empty! They won't refill it- I can-"

A groan tumbles past his lips as he drags a hand down his beard. "Look, Panther-" referring to you by your callsign, interesting move. "There's nothing I can do, it's over my head now. I wish I could do something, but I can't." Sitting back in his leather chair, Price places the bottle on the desk; a faint rap of the plastic hitting the wood is the only sound between you momentarily before you hurriedly shut the door.

Panic begins to flood your system as you're not sure how to handle this. It's your turn to freak out. You know how this goes, you know the story now; ever since they'd implemented and dispersed the Omegas into the troops, they'd started implementing them into the Task Forces, and now they have to do so with the One Four One. Fingers curling in and out of shapes as you try to process your next move, you speak before you can even begin to plan what you're going to tell him.

"I- I'm- I..." You're pacing his office now, the heavy gaze of your Captain upon you as you try to prevent yourself from hyperventilating. The thing is, you're usually good with pressure- really good. It's your job to be good. It's just... this is different. This is your life, your livelihood at stake, the livelihood of all your future generations to come.

A sigh resounds throughout the office before you hear the low timbre of his voice. "Dove," he calls out with a gentle tone, "I want you to take a deep breath for me. Alright?" With the calm and even sound of your Captain's voice and the assured look on his face, you comply. Exhaling the last of your breath, you close your eyes and focus in on the deep intake of air through your nose. With the parting of your lips you slowly release it before giving yourself a moment.

When you open your eyes he gestures to the seat before his desk, though you know he won't take offense if you decline. Hesitant, one hand finds its way to the other, wrapping around your arm as you listen to him speak. "Now, can you explain what has you in this state? I assure you that there's nothing that can't be dealt with." You want to trust him, you know him--John Price--your Captain. He's always had your back, always made sure you felt comfortable in the Taskforce, always made an effort to check on you after things got rough.

You nod. Licking your lips, you search his blue eyes as you tentatively take the seat across him.

"Whatever it is, we'll deal with it, alright? I can guarantee you that unless you're trying to tell me you're an Omega, nothing you say is going to shock me that warrants the amount of panic you're putting yourself through," Price chuckles. He's obviously joking, trying to break the tension with humor. Lips drawn upward into a small smile, the Captain stares at you expectantly.

"What if I am?" You whisper, eyes unable to tear from his visage as you try and gauge his reaction. Unexpectedly, silence fills the space between you and feels deafening in the small space. The growing comfort of his office these couple of months now feels like a cage you're forced to stay in, under watch, as you stare down your superior on the brink of a battle to the death. And that's what you do. His blue eyes bore into yours, skeptically shifting between your left and right as he seems to try and get a read on you.

All of the sudden you jump at the smack of his hands hitting the desk in front of him. He laughs at you.

He's laughing at you.

And you're sitting there with your guts spilled out, dread eating away at the pit in your stomach... and he's laughing. It feels like forever is passing you by as you stare at him in shock, this moment between the two of you frozen in time as nothing else persists.

"I understand what this was now," Price explains, still chuckling to himself as he shakes his head. There's a warm smile on his face that feels eerie considering the dire context of the situation at hand. "You got me! I fully believed you for a second there, too."

Eyebrows furrowing in dark realization, you can't help but stare at him wildly. "Wha-" You begin to question him and his line of thinking, but he cuts you off.

"This was all a prank, right? The bottle, the hysterics- you really outdid yourself, Sergeant." Leaning back in his chair, he props his ankle up on his other knee. "Because let me tell you, this was good. Better than anything Soap's cooked up in awhile. Did you come up with it yourself?" There's a cheeky grin on his lips. "Ah, I know you did."

Lips opening and closing like a fish out of water, you sit in the armchair across from him pale with a dazed look across your face. He doesn't actually think that this was...

"Well, with your little triumph in your pocket, I say we get back to work, yeah? I've got some new leads from MI6 that've just popped in." With that, the man stands from his desk and rounds it. "Garrick should be back around Tea. I'll see you in the Command Station then," he informs you. It's then that he passes by, a genial clap on your shoulder while he's at it.

Left stunned in silence, you can't help but grit your teeth, consequentially pronouncing your jaw as anger ebbs through your bloodstream. Breath getting heavier, you can't help but loathe the meeting tonight. Your Captain might be satisfied with the conversation, but all you feel is discouraged. He's abandoned you, left you alone in his office with a humiliating sense of betrayal and shattered trust. Almost like you hadn't just told him your biggest secret at all.

Punching the standard heavy punching bag hanging in front of you, you grunt, ignoring the pain that gnaws at your knuckles underneath the reusable hand wraps. Sweat builds on your brow as you continue to unleash your pent up anger on the gym’s equipment. How could he?! When had you ever pulled anything even similar to this? Never! And the fact that you’ve only been on the team for a handful of months only exacerbates the abandonment you’re feeling right now. He’s your Captain! Regardless of your feelings or the situation at hand, isn’t he supposed to be there for you? He’d promised from the get go to help you with whatever you need, and now the one time you go to him for aid it backfires in your face and leaves you without any sort of solution going forward aside from straight up telling the whole team the flat out truth, and God forbid! You can’t even begin to fathom how that’d go.

A pent up and frustrated yell almost akin to something of a growl emanates from you as you tear into another round of swift jabs and punches. Regardless of the situation at hand, you’ve been trying to build up your upper body’s strength and letting out the anger you’d accumulated over this morning’s events seemed like a perfect opportunity to let loose.

The stretches and treadmill routine didn’t take a lot out of you, but the weights, and now the punching bag definitely is starting to take its toll. Sweat beads at your forehead in rivulets that drip down the sides of your neck, down your scalp past your neck and between your shoulder blades. Tank top soaked in sweat, you breathe hard as your heart pumps rapidly in your chest. You would’ve wound up here at some point or another tonight, but the Captain’s discourteous response certainly led to an earlier workout time.

While others sparsely litter the gym’s floor, you pay them no mind and vice versa. It’s not uncommon for soldiers to be found blowing off steam or aiming to beat their highest reps on the weights. Yet, this gym is reserved for higher standing members of the Force, the gym on the far side of the base where there are less people, offices, and considering the regular army men train in the bigger gym closer to their quarters, it’s mostly other higher ranked officers in here.

“Captain’s lookin’ for ya,” Markowski, another Sergeant that you’d come to befriend on base announces from the doorway, having poked his head in after leaving a few minutes earlier. He belongs to a different Task Force.

A groan tumbles out of you as you realize it’s already that time. Just as the door clicks shut, your phone chimes loudly with the alarm you’d set earlier going off. A few quick swipes of your fingers, you turn the alarm off and unlock the device, seeing a number of messages flood your notifications.

Kyle: You hear they’ve bumped up the timeline? 😯

Johnny: “ https://Tiktok/Shattered.Rat567 ” Had me rollin’ 🤣👏🏻 Gotta check it, Bonnie

Simon: You coming to the meeting or not? 🤨

Johnny: Where r u? You’re usually first here 👀 Cap’s getting peeved, watch out

Not looking forward to the inevitable mess of a meeting before you, you don’t bother rushing to join the men. With a wash of your face in the women’s locker room, a speedy bathroom break, and a grab of the items you’d brought with you, you’re heading for the Command Station.

With the time Price set the meeting, you won't get to eat dinner till afterward. You'd be lying if you said you weren't annoyed by this entire situation, your agitation from neglecting your hunger earlier has certainly come to bite you in the backside.

While you don’t have time to respond to their texts, having set the alarm with only enough time to get back to your team’s Command ‘station’ albeit more like your headquarters before heading out. Speed-walking through the orderly halls with a haste perfectly common around here, you navigate with a well practiced knowledge. Though you’ve only been here coming up on six months soon, you’re well acquainted with this part of the base.

Rounding the corner, you’re in the hall, close. Yet, the worry of being late lingers in the back of your mind and adds another layer of annoyance on top of your residual anger buried deep down from this morning’s situation. You’d inevitably come up with your solution. It’s not one you like… but it’s the only logical option. Another turn and you’re striding into the big garage-like room.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Sergeant,” Price calls out to you. Lifting his eyes from the map laid out across your station's table, he glares in your direction.

“What took you so long?” Soap snaps, his brows slightly furrowed as he stares at you from the opposite side of the table, hands lazily wrapped around his vest’s straps.

A look at your watch tells you that you’re not even late, the meeting doesn’t officially start for another minute! But you are usually waiting on them. He’s got you there.

“Yeah, you’re usually the first one here. It’s not like you,” Gaz whispers under his breath as you sidle up alongside Ghost, Gaz standing diagonal to you right beside Price at the head of the table.

“Focus,” Ghost orders the men, his hands tucked in his hoodie’s pocket. You don’t fail to notice the way he subtly takes a step further away from you as soon as they start talking again. Price goes back to talking plans as Gaz is questioning the circumstances of the information the Captain had acquired earlier when he’d had to leave the office.

“Which is exactly why-”

A heavy exhale on your behalf leaves the men frozen as their eyes drift back to you. “Do you have something you’d like to say, Panther?” The Captain questions. Jaw clenched, you tear your eyes from the map they’d settled on.

“We’ve got a big problem,” you announce, cutting off the Captain as you finally raise your gaze to meet Price’s slightly widened blue eyes.

“Well, if you see something that needs changin’ then let’s hear it,” he responds. A ‘hmph’ follows as he crosses his arms over his chest and sits his weight back onto his heels.

“It’s not about the op,” you correct him. Tilting your head side to side you attempt to crack the kinks in your neck while standing a little straighter to appear more engaged and serious.

“And it’s more important than this? What we’re doin’ right now?” Soap questions, his hands dropping to rest on the table as he looms over it, eyeing you with frustration obvious in his irises.

“What is it?” Gaz asks, a quirk of his eyebrow garnering your attention for a split-second. He’s genuinely asking, and there doesn’t seem to be a hostility in his scent as he turns his attention to you. Then there’s Ghost, who you don’t even need to look at to feel his heavy gaze on you, waiting expectantly.

“Actually, it is,” you argue with Soap, anger beginning to boil in your belly, the frustration and angst having been left to simmer all afternoon. “I can’t believe you didn’t take me seriously when I came to you earlier,” you turn your anger on Price. He looks taken aback by the outburst, something you’re not known for.

“Dove,” he calls calmly, hands out in an attempt to pacify.

“Don’t-” you bark, starting to raise your voice without realizing it. “I came to you in confidance! Trusting you when you said you’d be there to help me if I ever needed it! How could you?” Gritting your teeth, you don’t realize how hard you’re breathing as your chest heaves with anger.

“Woah, woah-” Gaz sputters, “What-” holding his hands out to try and diffuse the argument.

“I let myself be vulnerable-” You continue to shout.

“Isn’t this something that shoul-” Soap attempts to dissuade, backing down as he puts his hands out.

“-and tell you the truth, and-” you’re lunging for him across the table. You’re held back by a massive hand on your shoulder. “You laugh in my face?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You're suddenly pulled back, off your feet, and shoved into a metal chair that'd been nearby. Your Lieutenant is hovering over you, his cold eyes now tinged with a spark of anger as they bore into you scrutinizingly. There's the sound of commotion behind him, multiple voices overlapping, yet you can't see anything with that utter giant in front of you!

“Does anyone wanna explain what the bloody hell is goin’ on here?” Ghost snaps. It's only then when the man steps aside that you can see where everyone is. With both of you in your respective corners, you simply glare at the Captain from over your crossed arms out in front of you.

“Are you bleedin’ kidding me, ya Scally?” Price grunts as he shrugs Gaz’ hand off his shoulder. “You’re still on about it! When w-"

"That doesn't explain what happened, Cap," Gaz interrupts, stopping him from going off and getting them nowhere.

He groans, running a hand over his face once more before composing himself. Everyone waits for an explanation—you too—he’d been the first to speak, and you’re curious to hear what he comes up with. “She came into my office, bloody cryin’, tossing me a pill bottle, muttering about, saying she’s a-”

You don’t dare let him finish, not wanting him to be the one to finally say it, exposing your truth to the team. "Omega. I’m an Omega, ” you finish his sentence. While you’re scared to meet their faces, you take a deep breath and force yourself to do so.

"Christ," Price curses, fingers coming up to pinch the skin between his brows as he hangs his head.

Ghost's stoicism is nothing unordinary, and in fact, is somewhat a comfort considering you'd expected nothing less from him.

Gaz looks stunned for a moment, eyes flitting about the other’s faces before the serious look on his face morphs. Lips slowly drawing upward, you shouldn’t be surprised when he starts laughing. "Yeah right," Garrick teases, "and I'm actually the Prime Minister."

Yet, it's not just him. The uproarious laughter from your right only adds fuel to the already burning flame as the two other Sergeants laugh like idiots. All as if it's some poor joke with no consequences to anyone's life, and yet... it's the truth. At the end of the day, it doesn't change anything. At the end of the day, your life is still in jeopardy and they're treating it like some joke. Unable to form any sort of retort, you simply blink; stuck in a stupor raw, stung, and with a dumb look on your face.

Soap, rounding the table slaps Gaz on the back, his face flushed red from laughing so hard. "Yer makin' my stomach hurt. God," he eggs the other on between his dying chuckles and attempting to catch his breath.

"You're really just gonna stand there and laugh?!" You finally burst. Anger surely must be coming off your scent in waves, but you don't care. Standing from the chair, you don't flinch as Ghost swipes his arm out in front of you in case you were going for the Captain again. There will be no physical altercation on his watch.

"She already pulled this on me earlier, mind you, and now what? You're trying to pull it over on the lads' too, eh?" Price goads you.

"And I was telling the truth! You're the one who said I was joking," you point out. The volume of your voice is lost on you, partially blinded by the fury bleeding out.

"I suppose you never did admit to it being a prank," Price reasons, fingers grazing his beard as he runs them over it repeatedly in thought. "But how do you expect us to believe that when you clearly smell of a Beta?"

"Even on the battlefield, after everything we've been through-" Gaz starts.

"After yer all sweaty from a workout, too. I think we'd notice, Pan," Johnny argues, illuminating a legitimate point of consideration.

"Oh please," you mutter quietly to yourself. Shaking your head, you can't believe they're really all being this daft right now. "Like you have heard of those Scent Spritzers.”

There are various perfumes on the market specifically designed to alter one’s scent. Most use it smell like an Alpha when they’re not, or an Omega when they’re wanting to seduce an Alpha when going out. But Omegas posing as Betas was rarely heard of. You’re more than sure it happens more frequently than people know of, they just haven’t been caught. And in your line of work? It’s scarce. People are thoroughly vetted, but… you’d been on suppressants for a long, long time. And a Beta perfume only perfected your hiding.

“Did you forget we’re Alphas, love? We’d be able to smell you across the room if you were,” Gaz taunts. There’s a puff of his chest that makes his cockiness even more annoying than usual.

"You really want to be an Omega? Dumb yourself down to some weak fragile thing?” Johnny jokes, nudging Gaz’ arm as he shakes his head.

“A doll who can get whoever she wants? Want to be nothing more than good for knockin' up and popping out pups?” Gaz adds on.

“Are you serious right now?” You test, seething under your skin as your hands ball up into fists. “How could you say that?!”

“It’s what people say,” Ghost comments.

“Nobody would want that and you’re out here lying about it,” Johnny pokes.

“We’re only trying to point out the flaws in your little rouse, Pan,” Gaz says, a smile lighting up his features as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"And what if I was lying, hm? Would that change anything you just said to me? How you feel about Omegas?" You scoff.

“This isn’t about your designation,” Price finally speaks. Fingers still weaved into his beard, his blue eyes lift to meet yours. “I see what this is about now, but there's nothin' to worry about, Dove.” Your Captain takes on a softer tone and all of the sudden you feel yourself start to get emotional as a twinge of sadness, of the hurt bleeding through upon understanding makes you feel seen.

“I know it's intimidating, the thought of having your first unmedicated heat, but we have medics here. It's natural. Heats, ruts, we all have them. And, hey... at least you're not an Omega, right?" Whatever relief you’d momentarily experienced sinks back down in your gut with the speed of a rollercoaster drop. It’s as silent as a stakeout, the only sound being people’s breathing. And the lack of yours.

It takes a moment to gather yourself, everyone’s eyes on you with the serious topic change. While sex and the downsides to a designation are something discussed with the boys, you’d often been left out. And to your comfort. "You know what? I can’t do this,” you retort. Backing from the group, you toss your hands up. “I guess you'll just have to wait and see," you bite back. With a whip of your hair over your shoulder, you head for the door.

The room is silent once more as everyone gawks. You’d never reacted in such a manner, had an outburst like that… this is… certainly different, and something they’re not at all used to.

“It’s because they took away her suppressants today,” Price explains. It might not have been something the group should be privileged to know. A private matter, really… but with the way you acted? He felt the men deserve an explanation, at least.

“That makes sense,” Gaz responds quietly, eyes still on the door you’d gone through.

“That’s no excuse,” Johnny counters, arms crossing over his chest with a scowl on his lips.

"Well... that went better than I thought,” Ghost comments with a shrug. “Back to the plan? We can fill her in later.”

[dojunie]

dojun wip update with snippets...!

→ swimming for dummies; ljn

current wc: 30k

est finished wc: possibly 40k… and… and i’m already working on a part 2…

info update: in my top 3 as far as writing priority goes, stuck in a mental block with the last scene before the ‘ending’ (also possible retitle incoming lol)

snippet ↓

→ misdial; ljn

current wc: 58k

est finished wc: 70k-75k

info update: again, very big writers block, i’m realizing that i don’t actually like the current trajectory of this plot so im struggling between rewriting it completely or trying to fandangle what i DO like about it into a something that makes more realistic sense

snippet ↓

→ misdial, the lake house; njm

current wc: 24k

est finished wc: 35K

info update: high prio! i’m having fun writing this so it’s coming to me easier. no current writers block, just a little hard to sit down and concentrate…

snippet ↓

→ courtside; ljn or njm (itwd retitle/rewrite)

current wc: 61k

est finished wc: 80k-90k

info update: still my pride and joy. this is not coming any time soon LOL, but i am actually having a lot of fun with this one too… struggling between maybe posting the first chapter and seeing how it does (but worrying about people getting bored waiting between updates…) or sucking it up and waiting to post it only until its completely finished (which will be in 2026 by this rate…)

snippet ↓

and, secretly, a new contender to the board…

→ overnight gamer; ldh

current wc: 31k

est finished wc: girl idk. rough ballpark, 50k, but that sounds like wishful thinking even to me

info update: not really an update bc i’ve never posted about this on here before but here is half the reason i’ve been so slow with working on everything else… hello, gamer haechan brainrot!

snippet ↓

authors note: so! hello my friends :D i've been mia for a little bit because every time i go away for a while i get nervous to come back LOL but... i've been writing! so i thought it might be nice to post a little update so you all don't think i've died or anything

[mistresslrigtar]

I’ve been trying to word this correctly all day but - I enjoyed I Belong to You a ton. I was a radio DJ in undergrad/grad school and even though it was half a million years ago, the whole thing was a perfect capture of that vibe.

Im curious - was the band based on an actual band? I know lyrically they leaned on a lot of Muse but I’m not familiar with the dynamics of its members.

Also- the spicy stuff was really, really well done and fantastic as first time smut writing. Was there anything you read to help inspire you style wise? I’m asking this from a technical aspect as good smut writing can be really tricky and I’m interested in the process from anyone who does it well.

(Like- my approach to smut is identical to how I approach combat- does this make sense without coming off weird?)

(And did I see there’s a sequel on the way???)

Tysm for the ask! So cool that you were a DJ!

First of all - yay! I was really hoping to capture the college vibe of the late 90s. It’s loosely based on my own experiences in grad school (I studied opera/music theater performance), so I’m glad that came through in the writing. ☺️

The band started as a ‘what if’ there was a band with Ganon on keyboards (a la OOT), Link guitar, Daruk drums, and Revali the lead singer. I didn’t have a plot. It was supposed to be a one-shot where Link and Zelda hook up. But I brainstormed while on vacation, listened to hours of different alt rock bands (at first I thought I’d use Radiohead) on the road trip and discovered Muse. I wasn’t familiar with their music until last summer, but nearly every song I heard sounded zelink coded so, there you go. Muse became Hyrule Warriors.

As for the smutty parts, (tysm for the compliment 🫣) I approached those scenes similar to what you said you do - they’re choreographed just like a fight scene. I start with A and map out how I want to get to B. Then I fill in the rest - thoughts, feelings, sights, sounds, tastes, etc. I also write my dialogue first for any scene throughout my stories. It helps me stay on track, and I really like writing conversations. I think sprinkling it in, even during a sex scene is important, because it’s natural if you’re comfortable with your partner. Obviously, I’ve read quite a bit of smut, too and I also researched and read a few articles on how to make it believable and titillating. After all, that’s the goal, right? 😳

I’m working on the sequel as we speak, and have three chapters roughly written! It’s tentatively called Love is Forever (cheesy, I know) and the soundtrack will be a mix of Muse and Radiohead songs this time around. I have a snippet scheduled to post this Wednesday for WIP Wednesday 😉

For anyone who’s interested here’s a link to I Belong to You.

[orbitfalls]

🤲 from the Writer Ask post hehe

(Also 🧠 for Nina Zenik if you have time)

god yes omg. i let this marinate for a moment in here and i hope you know i was thinking real hard about that hc... my favourite?? i had a hard time picking but i think i've made my choice

First of all: 🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

absolutely i will, of course!! we're going nina-themed today in honour of the hc question - ATIB (another brick in the wall), my hunger games AU, with a snippet of a nina flashback to her tribute interview during her first games<3

A man came to collect the microphone strapped to Nina's jaw. She held still as the man unbuckled the little wire from her face and dropped it into a box, trying to control her rapid breathing for as long as the microphone was still close enough to pick up on it. Her face was red and splotchy from the rush of adrenaline. She'd almost stepped off the stage as Tante Heleen asked her one last question. Roaring still was washing over the glamorous stage, and Nina still had her back turned. "What will we be watching tonight, Nina?" The question took Nina by surprise, but she was quick on her feet. With the box of microphones within reach and no time to think about it, she clutched one between two fingers and voiced her response: "You'll be watching the favor of my odds, madam Heleen," she bid, clutching the small microphone between her thumb and index finger as she turned her head, smiling, winking. "And they are probable." Tante Heleen had lain her head back in laughter as Nina exited the stage. Behind her, as the doors to the backstage waiting room closed, Nina heard the woman's excited voice: "Ladies and gentlemen: Nina Zenik!" Nina held her breath, listening to the crowd behind the shut metal doors. Distorted through the barrier: "District one's female tribute of the 69th Hunger Games!"

God i love her so

Now, 🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them. I thought too hard about this and i think i might trigger the yapping alarm, but my favourite hcs in general are those who explain plot holes or any unanswered questions i had along the way, without interfering with the canon plot whatsoever. i had plenty of those questions for nina: how did soldier training impact her magic, why did she chose matthias out of everyone in that ship wreck, who were her parents, and most prominently, how would her body react if she stopped using her powers?

Jesper, a grisha whose powers were environment-based, did, and was plagued by a constant sense of understimulation because of it, which he sought to chase away by gambling (amongst other things). How would the heartrender react, with her powers tied so close to her body?

it might sound a little weird, but i think her most noticable side-effect would be an incredibly low sex-drive. Think about it: how there's so commonly some seductive suggestion to her powers, how the two amplify one another, how the core of her grisha powers are so tied to the body, not to mention the symbolic value of her labour at the white rose while matthias was imprisoned. I like to think that if she was to begin concealing her powers, she would find that side of herself being severed from her. I think she would experience low sex-drive, low confidence, low emotional availability and a touch-aversion almost sort of similar to kaz's. touching others would begin to make her feel nauseous or even disgusted, and she possibly might even start wearing gloves like kaz.

on the other hand, i also like to exaggerate it a little on the other side (because it's hot). i think she gets a little going whenever she does use her powers, and i think it's because her powers and arousal are so closely tied emotionally. they sort of go hand in hand, and i feel like you can tell this even in canon. she might be getting heated with matthias and he begins to feel his throat tighten or his heart expanding in his chest, and he'll have to remind her to be careful with him because he doesn't have the power to fight back in this particular case. i think fucking and fighting are a little too similar to her, with the same emotional responses and stimulation to her grisha powers, and also, i think it's terribly ironic how matthias wanted the one thing from her that he couldn't get without accepting her powers as a part of the deal<3

aside from that, if i had to pick another headcanon, i like to think about how nina, the only girl in the world whatsoever capable of making a corpse walk (and talk?), is the one whose boyfriend died... interesting... very interesting... i feel like the story writes itself here

anyway!! thank you for the ask and forgive me for not keeping it shorter😭

[fanfic-scribbles]

WiP Wednesday - Dinner Date Ch 34

(Lotta writing rambling; skip to the ~ if you wanna get to the good bit but warning that something big happens in the next Dinner Date chapter and I included it because it's fun so consider this your spoiler warning if you don't wanna know anything.)

So I swear I have been working hard. I've just been working hard on TWO chapters that are both becoming much longer than I expected :') I have a chapter of "Digestifs" I'm trying to get done first, since it happens technically on the timeline before "Dinner Date" but...I'm having a hard time focusing. So I continue to work on whatever catches my attention each day and if DD finishes first then I'll just put a note on "Digestifs." It's gonna feel a little weird if you follow both but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyways. Here's a snippet of the next Dinner Date chapter that I debated posting because it gives away a major Thing that happens, but...I'm not making a story for the plot twists, and it's going to be obvious that this is the main subject of the chapter probably from the summary. If you don't wanna know anything until the chapter is up I totally get it, I hope you don't mind my long-winded whining on why Writing Is Hard (BOTH of these chapters doubled in size what is wrong with me istg), and I will see you hopefully soon with something. For anyone who does want proof that I am Doing Something and doesn't mind a bit of a hook, click behind the cut :)

~

As soon as the door shut and Maria and Phil were buckling up in front, I leaned over the seat. “Is Steve okay?”

“He’s going to be just fine,” Phil said and started the engine. “Buckle up.”

At least I had that, so I sat back and did as he said. “Why did Natasha call me instead of him? Is he hurt bad? Why did you come to pick me up? What is going on?”

“Most of it I think I’ll let Captain Rogers tell you,” Phil said, sounding almost business-like. He’d never talked to me like this before, so I paid attention. “But the facts are this: there was an altercation with a potential enemy agent known as the Winter Soldier. Captain Rogers engaged him while Agent Romanoff and Falcon attempted to retrieve important intel.” Phil looked in the rearview mirror at me. Maria was pretending not to exist, so I focused on him. “Steve is in the hospital, but he shouldn’t be there for too long. Overnight at most,” Phil said, a little gentler. “But he was still hurt in the scuffle.”

There was so much I wasn’t being told I felt like I was fucking choking on the elephant. “He’s been hurt and in the hospital before. Why did you guys come to pick me up?”

Phil looked back at the road, and didn’t glance at me anymore. “We have more information now, on the Winter Soldier,” he said, going matter-of-fact flat again. “His past, his…identity.”

There was silence. I tried to peer around the seat. Maria looked at him sharply, but I couldn’t see Phil’s reaction. Just hear him as he picked up like he’d never left off. “And some of his movements over the past couple of years. We have reason to believe he may know who you are. Specifically, who you are to Captain Rogers.”

Well. That was unsettling. I sat back in the seat. “Does it really matter that much?” I asked. “And what does ‘potential enemy’ mean? Who is this guy?”

“It’s complicated,” Phil said. “Captain Rogers will tell you more.”

[clawbehavior]

Hi and happy new year 🌺🌺🌺

For the wip game:

I'm really intrigued to know more about these : 3,8 and 13 (sorry for being greedy 😅)

Please

happy new year anon!

not only do i love that you asked about more than one WIP (i am greedy with you), i loooove these choices because i just updated the work that is #3, so i'm knee deep in it emotionally. it's 'everything everywhere all at once', my money lender au! i have 5-10 drafts going at any time for this story because writing a new chapter helps me simplify the plot. then i have to write that down and cross reference against the clues i already published.

eeaao is very dear to my heart because it was my second foray into fanfic writing after more than a decade and my first multi chapter work. i get a unique thrill from reader engagement with it. finishing it is going to be a life accomplishment for me because of the amount of time i've spent on it (a year) and the very real plans i made in september to discontinue it. we're all good now though, with things finally falling into place for the remaining 1.5 chaps.

i'm posting a snippet from y's take on things which is his version of eeao, made unique by the context he brings to their interactions. i love this scene so much that i actually use it as a treat, telling myself i can publish it only if i finish the main work lmao. so i'm THRILLED you asked about it anon, thank you 🥰🥰

i will reply to the other WIPs in your asks shortly but for now, enjoy the snippet under the break.

after the breakup, yohan has wet dreams like never before. he dreams of gaon. of laying him on the bed with reverant hands and tying him to it so he can't leave. of ravishing him while gaon moans and cries and begs for more. of releasing gaon at the end, only for him to climb into yohan's lap greedy for kisses and with whispered promises that he'll never leave, that he'll stay by yohan's side no matter what. because he loves yohan.

the dreams are incomprehensible without a structured timeline or form. he cooks for gaon and feeds him with his hands in some. he binds gaon's wrists together under the younger man's besotted gaze in another. they drive down an endless road at night, gaon curled into the passenger seat, his forever companion. 

only once does yohan dream something so terrible that he does something unbelievably cruel in real life to offset the feeling and leads a man to believe his family is burning alive in their home to prove a point. and the thing he dreams of is raising a family with gaon. 

he wakes up thrashing, in sweat stippled sheets twisted around his waist and legs. stumbles out of bed and into clothes and away from a home saturated with gaon's presence. for two whole weeks after that, he avoids his house. isaac picks up on this strange energy within the first week, becomes downright meddlesome by the third. yohan rebuffs his well-intentioned efforts and throws himself into his work, into the hunt, the remaining stronghold of his life because it's where gaon cannot be found. 

or so he thinks. he's just wrapped up a successful negotiation that gives him significant editorial oversight over a prominent but heavily indebted news company, and is leaving the VIP section of the club when he sees him. gaon's on the lower floor, sound and strobing lights separating him from yohan. he's sitting on a bar stool, talking to another man. being propositioned, it's obvious. the man has his hands jammed in his pockets but has leaned close, eagerly making a point and staring at gaon with a desire yohan knows well. 

how could he not? gaon looks lovely, even though he's tied up in a suit while everyone around him is in clubbing clothes. he's swirling his drink one handedly and listening with his head cocked to the side, inviting but not reciprocating. 

from his vantage point on the upper floor, yohan catalogues all this in the brief look he allows himself. then he walks straight out of the bar and to his waiting car. he'd let gaon so could live his life. without yohan. ergo, with someone else. 

yohan's many things, but what he's not is unselfaware. so he doesn't bother berating himself in the time it takes to switch his attire for a different kind of hunting outfit, black sweats and a hoodie. 

gaon's place looks the same, yohan notes from where he's hidden by the shadows across the street. it's also dark. 

which doesn't mean anything, he tells himself with a faint tinge of desperation. gaon could've gone bar hopping. but yohan remembers the closed line of his body even as let the man come too close, how gaon's wrists were concealed by two layers when he bared his skin willingly for yohan. 

maybe yohan wasn't as self aware as he told himself.

this line of thought is immediately blown apart when gaon rounds the bend with his friend, cheeks flushed by alcohol and the cold. yohan crushes his cigarette under his sneaker and stares hungrily. gaon catches yoon soohyun when she stumbles -- a show, yohan thinks meanly, given how sturdy her boots are -- and pulls her into an affectionate one-armed hug, tugging her up the stairs and into his apartment. 

soohyun is my oldest and closest friend, yohan recalls as he watches the house. the bedroom light turns on. we're not romantically involved, nor have we ever been. 

platonic, yohan reminds himself. but a platonic friend could fill a sexual need just fine, albeit insufficiently. this is good, he decides. it means gaon's moving on. somewhat. and not with the stranger from the bar.

he's not fooling himself that the thought of gaon pushed up against his kitchen counter by someone else, for someone else to undo his tie inbetween laughing kisses and mess up his carefully styled hair, tug his shirt out of his trousers filled yohan with sick violence. it was the sex, but it was more than that. it was knowing how unselfconscious and uninhibited gaon was during sex. the experience opened him up in such a way that a part of him sunk into his surroundings, including the body of his lover. yohan felt it every time he left gaon, that gaon had deposited a piece of himself in yohan's hands, permanently changing them both in the process.

the lights in the bedroom go out. 

yohan swallows. 

a moment later, the living room lights turn on, a lithe frame passing near the windows before everything goes dark again. it means he hasn't moved on yet, yohan thinks, drawing his armor around himself again. but the hurt comes from deep within, a feeling breaking him apart like a tree root piercing concrete. 

yohan should've pushed him away earlier. before he got attached. he slinks into the alley and heads home, feeling worse than better.

and then one day, just as chaotically as gaon walked out of yohan's life, he walks back in.

[aaronstveit]

Hi! What is a zero draft? I'm not sure I've heard that before. But I will also send you some numbers! 31, 33, 36, 37, 39, and 46!

hi anon!!! thank you for asking <33333 i'm gonna answer this one under a read more because it got away from me a bit

omg i am so excited to introduce you to the concept of the zero draft. so a zero draft is sort of like a document that's between an outline and a first draft, and it's almost like an information dump for your WIP. there are no real rules to it but the way i do it is i pretty much just type out everything i'm thinking like i'm talking aloud. so parts of it are actual lines that will probably end up in my wip and then some parts are just like "He says something about fate here, I'll expand the metaphor later." and i'll just go through the entire story like that because it's easier for me to put together something resembling a plot when i'm just talking it out (in a google doc) than when i'm actually trying to "plot" or "outline." i hope this makes sense? if not, this article is very helpful i think! again there are no actual Rules to it, just do whatever works for you! it works for me because of how my brain is but everyone is different of course etc etc <333

31. Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

um probably more the characters? plot does NOT come easily to me and it's a huge fight for me to actually come up with one, i usually start with vague concepts and let the characters propel it forward!

33. Do you want to be published some day?

oh sigh what a question. theoretically yes i would love to actually finish one of my original wips and get it published but in practice there is soooooo much about publishing that i find very frightening. i am not a social media darling and if i wrote a book and it ended up on a booksamillion booktok table i'd do something that got me put on the evening news. but yes i would actually like to like, write something original and put it into the world for people to see one day. theoretically.

36. How do you write kissing scenes?

gonna be honest i usually cringe my way through it. writing physical intimacy is NOT a strength of mine and there are really only so many words you can break out before you start to sound ridiculous. other people are amazing at this but unfortunately all i can really do is throw in some metaphors and try focusing more on the emotions than the physical act.

37. How do you choose where to end a chapter?

i pretty much just give up at some point... okay that's a bit of a lie. while i do suck at all forms of endings, i do generally (think that i) have a sense for good emotional stopping points. i base my chapter endings wayyyyy more on emotion than actual plot. OH and it also depends on POV. like for instance in deep end i have 3 different POVs happening and sometimes i'll get to a scene and be like wait this should be in someone else's POV so i know i have to close things up for this chapter and start the next one. otherwise though i usually like to stop at a semi-emotional moment so a reader is mostly satisfied but left ready for the next chapter!

39. Share a snippet from a WIP

oh god oh fuck um. here is a bit from deep end !

This must be horrible for you, Enjolras had said. And he wasn’t wrong, not even a bit. Every second of it has been horrible for Grantaire. The way his shoes stuck to the floor of the Corinthe, the bartender’s familiar smile. Enjolras’ chaste pink lips, his half-unbuttoned shirt. The crowded street. The smell of the inside of the taxi. The stairs, Enjolras’ weight against his side, the smell of Enjolras’ breath, Enjolras’ voice in his ear, Enjolras, everything fucking Enjolras. Grantaire wonders if this is another trap, if he’s gotta chew through the bone to get out of it. But he can’t, he knows he can’t. He’s all bled out. Carving his way out of this trap will kill him.  (Staying in the trap will kill him, too, he thinks. But there isn’t really anything else to do about it now.)

46. How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

is dialogue-driven an option? because my plots are completely driven by dialogue it's kind of ridiculous. otherwise i would say emotionally driven. possibly too emotionally driven. i have a lot of emotions and i like throwing them all at my google doc to see what sticks. unfortunately this results in a lot of suffering for my characters BUT i have fun and that's all that matters!

get to know your fic writer!

[pb-dot]

WIP Wednesday special: Olimar Trent

Since it came up in the last snippet I posted, I decided to have a look at the smallest, most insignificant part of the worldbuilding that still has some kind of a point behind it today. That's right, we're talking about the Olimar Trent series, the books that 13 likes to read and from which he finds inspiration for choosing his new name.

In short, the Olimar Trent books are a series of dimestore novels set in the pre-collapse Imelian empire following the eponymous private detective in his attempts at rooting out crime and corruption from the city, both as a detective and as his secret vigilante alter-ego The Pearlescent Mask. Along the way, Trent is hindered by many a foe and helped mostly by a rotating cast of supporting characters, among them Adrian Disimila, a filing clerk at city hall whose intensely cowardly predisposition doesn't stop him from doing all he can to aid the righteous detective.

These books are supposed to be a particularly pulpy blend of Sherlock Holmes-inspired detective fiction and early superhero stuff, think Golden Age, or even Pre-Action Comics #1. Another important piece of inspiration is the Dresden Files books that took me through some tough times in ways perhaps somewhat comparable to 13 and these books. I imagine that similarly to DF, the Olimar Trent books re-introduce important elements from earlier books when they come up in the story to be approachable for new readers. This is probably a blessing for 13, as the first book he read was the second one in the series, The Coal-Car Conspiracy.

These books are part of a wave of similarly pulpy stories set in a slightly mythologized version of imperial-era Imelia. As with any trend in literature, there are any number of variations on the themes and angles, but in general, they tend to portray life before the collapse of the empire as more exciting and vibrant, but also dangerous and made more so by corruption on multiple levels. The Trent books are notable mostly in featuring a gay protagonist, but also for being considerably less cynical than other entries, such as The Traitor Circle and In Sway of Blood-series.

I don't think it's possible to have books or similar entertainment in your writing without using it as a vehicle to talk about fiction in general and your writing in particular, so I have simply not tried to avoid it. The Trent series are disposable and at times somewhat silly stories, but that doesn't mean they don't have any merit. In fact, the books are, in their own small way, contributing to 13's development into a happier, more independent individual. Also, not to spoil the next book entirely, but let's just say the fact that he was recommended the books by his (maybe?) frenemy One may not be entirely irrelevant.

I could go on, but this covers the basics of this aspect of the world just fine. Tempted as I am to recount the entire narrative arc of the first seven or so of these books I have plotted out, that does sound a lot like consigning myself to sitting down and actually writing the damn thing, and I just plain don't have the time or energy for that even though it could, admittedly, be an interesting spinoff. Ah, the worries of a writer huh?

tag list @ettawritesnstudies @mrbexwrites @teacupsandstarlight @anonymousfoz @wrenofthewords @sm-writes-chaos @dyrewrites

If you want to be put on the Tag List for this project, please interact with my Tag List Post

[hexenmond]

my Witch Door fanfiction (long form, wip, looking for alpha/beta readers)

Time to shout from the rooftops again! I finally found a fitting name for the whole series, so now I know how to tag my wip stuff. If you like The Witch Door, and especially if you maybe feel like doing some alpha/beta reading (mostly I need a sounding board), please read on!

Let me bring you (and myself) up to speed: this opus magnum originally started out as a quick oneshot, a little scene that happened following the side comic "Afterparty". Just a tiny little continuation, another meeting in a dream. 2.5k, one-and-done. (This bit is up on AO3, see below.)

And then it grew some fluff. And then it grew some background story. And then all of a sudden there was plot. All the characters from the comic got roped in (except the bird people cause I avoided the main canon plotline). And finally it sprouted original characters as a supporting cast. And uh, I'm still not entirely done…

So, what have we got so far?

This has turned into a five part series which I have decided to name Vem Kan Segla. I'd say about 70% of it are written, and fun to read in my own humble opinion.

(Please note: whenever I say "relationship" that totally includes friend- and other ships!)

Part 1: Exactly as you are 10 chapters, all of them written and theoretically postable (chapter 1 being said "oneshot"). Mostly fluff and developing relationship stuff with a little bit of spicyness, tiny smidgen of – hurt? angst? I'm actually not sure. But mostly Jousia and Jesse figuring out what they are to each other, with only one chapter from another person's point of view (Tzofiya my beloved!).

Part 2: The choices we make Picks up just after the end of part 1. Starts out angsty and gets progressively worse. The first ten chapters all end with cliffhangers, and after a brief respite there's a chapter or three of hurt no comfort before we get a happy ending. (It does leave a lot of plot lines unresolved though.) Nilsa and Katariina play a major part in this as well. This is mostly written except for some bits that need filling out, maybe 2k of missing words all in all.

Part 3: Family found Picks up right after the end of part 2. More plot! Some drama! More relationship developments! Honest talking about difficult things! The spicyness gets weird! There are even more characters! And the ending is done, and it's the happiest ending I could possibly have written. There's one character literally rolling on the floor bed laughing.

This part is where things start to get so complex that I really would love to be able to bounce ideas around with somebody, help me get all these flighty ducks in a row.

(Katariina is meeeee staring at my disjointed wip snippets for parts 3 and 4!)

Part 4: (no title yet) This will be full of beautiful domestic happiness, more relationships developing, slice of life stuff. Even a little bit of romance, if you will. And then three people die and it gets very sad. The remaining loose threads get wrapped up, and there's a peaceful ending.

This is the wobbliest bit… it might even turn into two parts, I really can't say yet. I'd love a sounding board person or three.

Part 5: Epilogue This will be only one chapter, but a long one. Haven't written a single word down but it's perfectly finished in my head. Picks up six months after the end of part 4, has a happy fairly ending (considering that nobody gets resurrected).

Intrigued?

If you don't want to dive in yet because you can't deal with the cliffhangers while waiting for updates, I have a progress tracker online on AO3 where you can see each chapter's degree of completion. This is also where I will post in-depth content warnings that contain spoilers once part 2 starts going up.

If you're curious but new to The Witch Door or otherwise taking a backseat for now, I shall post snippets and bits of what I've written over the next weeks under the tag #vem kan segla, so feel free to follow that and see if you like it!

And finally for those who have already read the comic and side comic, the first five chapters are online on AO3 if you want to check that out.

Thank you, and enjoy Ulriikka's fluffiness!

[bi-bats]

1, 10, 19, & 31 for the ask game pls? 💖

TAURIAAAA!!!! HI!!!!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

ooh probably rooftops and bookshops. I really really really dislike the prose in it now that I've found more of a voice and I think the difference between that fic and my more recent stuff is so so blatant, but I do stand firmly by all of the plot points in that fic. That said, I'm not allowed to touch it because if I start I'll never stop, and I'd rather write new stuff than tweak the same old thing forever.

10. Top three favourite fic tropes.

Enemies to lovers, fake dating, amnesia!

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

Bart’s halfway through peeling the first clementine, the sharp citrusy smell permeating the air over the odor of burnt rubber from the trash, when he looks up. His thumb digs in a little too hard, breaking through the rind and into the fruit, a few drops of the juice splattering up his wrist. Kon looks at him from the entryway, almost surprised to see him there.  Bart stares back. He's still angry from yesterday, and he doesn’t feel like pretending he isn’t.  It must be obvious on his face, because Kon's surprised expression melts into more of a resigned irritation, and he strides past Bart, taking the half-peeled clementine out of his hands.  “Why does it smell like that time Tim accidentally put a cutting board in the oven?” Kon asks as he grabs a mug from the cabinet, his voice gruff with sleep. Bart starts peeling a new clementine, and he’s done by the time Kon’s pouring his coffee. He starts another.  “Fucked up my sneakers yesterday. Had to throw ‘em out.”  “I thought you had that friction barrier thing or whatever,” Kon says. The way he phrases it like he doesn’t know what he’s talking about grates at him. Why can’t Kon just admit that he gives a shit? Bart shrugs instead of answering, glaring at the peeled fruit.  He separates out the segments of the ones he peeled, pulling off those stringy white bits as he goes. His leg is tapping so fast against the chair, the noise it makes sounds vaguely like the blades of a helicopter.  Kon sighs and sits down next to him, leaning his head on Bart’s shoulder. He puts the clementine he was holding down on the counter in front of them and Bart picks it up. As he’s about to start peeling it, Kon takes it out of his hands and puts it back where it was. When Bart picks up another one, Kon takes that too, putting it down next to the other one like he wants Bart’s full attention. A tight, annoyed noise works its way out of Bart’s throat, and Kon’s TTK worms around him, feeling like an arm around his shoulder even though both of Kon’s hands are on his mug. “I’m not sorry,” Kon says, his hands tightening around the mug. “Me neither,” Bart answers, still glaring at the fruit.

31. What was the most difficult fic for you to write (but in the end you made it)?

Definitely Rooftops & Bookshops, but only because of the "in the end you made it." Otherwise, I'd say Know Yourself, because I am struggling with that fic SO much right now. I'm struggling with writing in general right now but that fic specifically is giving me a very hard time. I do have faith that I will make it though, especially since it's all plotted out! I just have to. You know. Finish it.

send me an ask!

[runicmagitek]

For the WIP game, "Oh No It Turned Into A Thing" because I have to know what broke containment! 🤣

sajdfkhsaklfhaskd I figured someone would ask about this one 🤣 so back in 2020, I watched FMAB for the first time ever. I thoroughly enjoyed it and my brain was buzzing with ideas for Alphonse/Winry. Of course I latched onto the rarest of rarepairs lolsob. It was originally meant to be a post-canon PWP fic, but then it gained plot. Like, so much plot. As in... while I was rereading this WIP, it's literally All Plot No Smut. All 9k words of it jskafdkdjfklasj

I know I stopped working on it for a number of reasons. Mostly bc it was 20-fucking-20 and I was not in a good place mentally. Writing was so difficult for me back then and seeing how rare the pairing was, plus the fact it involved messy breakups of canon ships, I just didn't want to deal with any potential backlash. I don't know if I'll revisit it in the future, but I'm happy this kept my head above water for a week or so. Enjoy a snippet!

“It does, doesn’t it?” Weak laughter left her. “I guess I don’t want to deal with people right now, if that makes sense. Thinking about someone else beyond myself… it’s a lot. I’d rather just have only myself to be held responsible for things in my life.” His attention drifted to the wall over her work station. The photos missing glared like gaping holes. It brought a frown to his face, yet he refused to ask. “I hope this doesn’t make it sound like I’m ungrateful for you showing up,” she said, now bracing forearms against her knees while she looked to the floor ahead. “Had I known you were visiting—” “I-I’m sorry if I came unannounced.” He lifted empty palms in defeat. “I thought it would be a pleasant surprise, but I guess you are busy and I didn’t mean to stress you out.” She tilted her head to him. The sunlight reflected off her blue eyes, highlighting colors he didn’t know existed in her irises. “You don’t stress me out, Al,” she said, the word calm, yet the tremble on her tongue evident. “You… you sure?” She nodded. “Yeah. Besides, you’d have to try pretty hard to top the stress currently going on.”

[bitebackbaby]

For the ask wip game, may I ask about “socmed au 😔”?

please

ahhhhh, my socmed au 😔.... my precious baby, my firstborn child…

this is a multi-media (kinda) experience in which i detail the goings-on of the guard through their chats, forums, spiktoks, spwitter, and speddit accounts [space social media ;)].

while this fic is absolutely a comedy first, it does have an underlying plot! this centers around the public (& the gar) slowly becoming more aware of the heavy restrictions and punishments the guard is under, as Cardy (finally becoming a tiktok star as god [me] intended) continually creates accounts posing as the ‘real coruscant guard’ and faces backlash from both authority and cruel natborns.

i really, really love this story. it’s one that’s just fun to write, you know? It isn’t completely without angst or whump (of course not, it’s me), but it’s a bit more light-hearted than what i usually write, and it really gives me a chance to show off (my ocs) how characters interact with each other and highlight their personalities. im very excited to start posting it once it’s ready!!

no set chapter length yet, but it’ll probably be about 20k? maybe more? idk it’s got a fair amount already lmao

here’s a snippet! :)

[The camera shifts to show a clone laying face-down on the ground, sprawled out like a dead body. He has non-standard paint, denoting him as a Commander.

“Sir?”

There is a loud groan.

“Is it the expense reports again?”

A louder groan.

The clone holding the camera sniggers, the footage becoming momentarily blurry. By the time it clears up, the clone on the floor has shifted to face the wall, clearly turning away from the other clone in disgruntlement.

“I bet this doesn’t happen to the Separatists,” the Commander says, with a clear sulking tone.

Still sounding greatly amused, the observing clone says; “Sir, if you were a separatist, I think I would be legally obligated to shoot you.”

“Even better,” he says grimly.

The camera shakes, then goes black, as the clone holding it loses the battle against laughter and accidentally drops it.]

no official title for this one yet either – it lives in my head as this emoji 😔 lol

[dharmasharks]

DS! I hope you're doing well today and have a good week ahead of you 💗💗💗

Your WIPs sound so interesting. I really need to get onto your western AU that's been on my list forever!

Can you tell me more about the past is alive inside of us? I'm so intrigued by it ✨😘

Hi hi hi, Tej! I have been traveling or hosting family for what feels like all summer, so I am very much looking forward to having some time at home this weekend!

(Also there is zero rush or pressure to join me in Western Stucky hell, the author is the slowest updater ever 🙃)

SO my Bucky & Wanda fic features some AoU canon divergence and is forever the plot bunny that got away. I dredged up so much Wanda characterization (a lot of it is her POV) and did so much Sokovia world building (because Sokovian politics and geography make absolutely no sense). But it just doesn't work! Arg. I do love repurposing WIPs, though, so maybe revisiting this one will help me find a home for these two! Here's a snippet for you:

They hear the new volunteer first: a stream of English profanity that fractures into French, into German, into Russian. Then they don’t hear him say anything at all.  He looks half-dead by the time he’s tossed into the cage next to Wanda’s. Still, they didn’t pay him any mind. Plenty of volunteers pass through this place. Only the twins remain.  When this one keeps breathing—though he does little else—they discuss him in hushed whispers, only in what fractured Yiddish they picked up from their Grandma.  “Don’t look at him. Don’t talk to him,” Pietro instructs her. “​​He’s dangerous.” Pietro spent enough time around boxing rings with Oleg to know a fighter when he sees one, even one who keeps silent and still for days on end. Wanda lets him exercise his protectiveness. She doesn’t have the heart to tell him that she already learned, long ago, how to read the posture of violence on men.  Little permeates the basement sublevel where they’re kept, making it difficult to determine the passage of time, let alone what passes in the world above. But not long before the volunteer arrived, panic seeped in, carried unmistakably in the nervous chatter and shaky hands of the drones who dote on them.  Project Insight means nothing to Wanda, but whatever it is—was—ushers in an unmistakable shift. She knows as well as Pietro how to spot the signs of a regime in decline.

I am loving all the snippets you've been sharing! Hope all is well with you and sending lots of love 💙💙💙

[thechaoscryptid]

FOR THE WIP NAME ASK GAME PLEASE TELL ME ABOUT “wtnv: haunted” IT IS MAKING ME FERAL

(curious about my WIP folder?)

AKA how did you manage to land upon the OLDEST WIP immediately lmfao okay so have a snippet first:

Cecil often considers futility. It’s a beautiful word, its sound gamboling about in his mouth before slipping into the world to haunt someone else’s mind, as well. As a concept, it’s...tougher. He likes to think he has a handle on how the all-consuming knowledge nothing he (or anyone else) does really matters. Even if time is slowed in Night Vale (and though Carlos is perfect, Cecil has his doubts about that particular Science he’s done), the longer seconds and minutes only lead to a demise that’s longer down the road (unless, of course, one ventures into the library or forgets to properly polish their bloodstones before use). And, well, the thing is, it’s never bothered him. He’s accepted that eventually the sand wastes will overtake his bones and crush him to nothing, and that the station will choose someone else to be Night Vale’s Voice. (He can’t say who he wishes it might be, can’t think it, but he may be thinking very hard about someone with two eyes and skin that doesn't shed every third April.)

I got really into WTNV in 2020/2021 and this was my first real foray into my current writing style! I love love love the WTNV scripts and wanted to work some elements of their description into my work.

There wasn't, to my knowledge, any major plot to this one - I wanted to write a hurt/comfort one shot just to experiment based on the weather song Haunted by Maya Kern.

[mommalosthermind]

KaeJeanLuc PWP? 👀

(As part of the Ask Game for my list of WIPS)

Of course! @beingatoaster That idea started ages and ages ago, because I went looking in the ao3 kaeya/jean/diluc tag and discovered it was empty. That was just unacceptable, so I opened scrivener and slapped some 3k nonsense together in like 15 minutes with the vague idea of turning it into a series.

Twilight_ish beat me to it with their Equal Exchange stories, and the idea kinda fell by the wayside for more plot heavy ideas. It’s not particularly in-depth and there are definitely a few area where I lost track of limbs, but somewhere a little bit of Extra snuck in and it’s kinda sweet?

half-assed plot was as simple as ‘trio returning from a mission, manage to fall into the river, decide to strip and dry off. Kaeya is a little shit and ‘helps’ Diluc strip, doesn’t realize Jean can literally see them. Decides to continue being a little shit when he does.’

The first time it happens, it’s an accident. All the times after that, well. Not so much.

Snippet under the cut because, yknow, porn.

Teeth inside her hip make her squeal into Diluc’s mouth. 

When he slips a finger between her folds, gathers the slickness there, she goes still. 

He stops, pulls away entirely, but before he can ask, before Diluc can do more than look up with hot eyes, Jean looks down her body and swallows. She spreads her legs wider. There’s a tremor in her now, but determination and want in the way she doesn’t break his gaze until he settles back into the cradle of her thighs.

Together, Diluc and Jean watch him as he drags his fingers up and down, but never in. He wants to feel her, yes, but this, this is delicious, the way her expression wavers, how her hips twist after his touch.

He cuts his gaze to Diluc, who is red faced and intent on the place where Kaeya’s slick skin meets Jean’s.

Abruptly, Diluc looks up, and Kaeya stops. He waits, soaking up the startled sound Jean makes as Diluc hauls her upper body up, shifting so she’s laying back in his lap rather than against the ground, held and protected, one arm encircling her ribs to cradle her breast even as he uses a hand in her hair to pull her back for a brutal kiss. 

Kaeya lets him have her for only a moment before he pierces her wetness with two stiff fingers. 

Her cry is muffled by Diluc’s mouth. She goes taut, but her hips tilt closer, and as he twists his wrist, finds a rhythm that allows his thumb to press against the nub at the top, her legs close in around him.

She’s caught between them, breathlessly noisy, and Kaeya is going out of his mind already, watching his lover take her apart as easy as he does Kaeya.

He knows a way to make them feel the same. He slithers down to hold her open by her muscled thighs, lying flat to drag his tongue where his fingers just were. 

Jean, untouched before this, nearly screams into Diluc’s mouth, sobbing and writhing between them. Diluc refuses to let her go, eating at her mouth as Kaeya eats at her cunt. His hands never stop, dragging up and down her sides, cupping her breasts, tweaking and pulling at her nipples until he has to wrench back to gulp air.

Kaeya’s new to this in that Jean’s body is not Diluc’s, but he’s just as clever here as he is in other places, from the way Jean’s voice breaks so sweetly over their names.

[pastsaoi]

i'd love to know about all of the wips because of the sheer potential of all of them, really.

bet okay here we go ty for asking!! all of these r drafts so excuse anything that is clunky or weird sounding

part 2 in the 'is marius von hagen an idiot or just bisexual' series

this revolves around marius being allergic to silver. all his jewellery is platinum and he gets touched by luke Who Is Wearing A Silver Ring At The Time. queue a nasty rash all over and he never notices the ring bc he is more focused on luke, which leads to mar believing he is allergic to Luke Pearce and asking the rest of the team about it. he is genuinely distressed at the thought of potentially being allergic to luke

Whenever it was just Vyn, Robin and Artem in the NXX Headquarters, it was quite peaceful. They got on with their work with quiet conversations and no terrible, very bad ideas. With Robin present, it stopped Artem and Vyn from their bickering and, thus, it was calm. Serene one could say. The perfect environment to work and not fuck it up. Though it could also be said that this was simply calm before the storm.

So when the quick pounding of footsteps echoed around the hall near the door, Vyn took a deep breath, Artem rubbed at his temples and Robin clasped her hands together, hoping for something normal for the team like a murder or missing persons case.

"CAN YOU BE ALLERGIC TO PEOPLE?"

Her hopes had not been answered and Robin simply stared at where Marius stood at the doorway, looking… well, like shit.

once upon a fucking december

Okay so. Anastasia is my favourite film of All Time so ofc i had to make a tot au for it!! i have many different variations for this idea such as: rosa as anya and luke as dimitri, vyn as anya and rosa as dimitri, marius as anya luke as dimitri You Get The Idea. i don't actually have a snippet for this one bc its mostly just plots and plans in a gdoc But i will write it one day when i decide who to write as who

nxx unsolved : supernatural

The team go ghosthunting basically. marius signs them up to go explore a supposedly haunted building in stellis after someone asks and he does it under the guise of Teamwork and Team Bonding. its mostly a disaster

"This is a terrible idea," Vyn had stood up to fix himself a cup of tea almost immediately as Marius started speaking, though the whole team knew if he could get something stronger he would.

Marius pointedly ignored him. "We could be like the guys from Scooby Doo! I will be Fred and Miss can be Velma since she's the smartest out of all of us."

"Luke has eaten dog food before so he can be Scooby," Robin pitched in from where she was sitting, sending a bright grin over in Luke's direction.

"Fuck you! I swore you to secrecy!" The dog food eater threw the pillow he was holding at Robin and it was quickly tossed back.

Robin kept her smile, "all's fair in love and war. And I want Artem to be Daphne!"

"Why should Artem be Daphne? They're nothing alike?"

"He's the prettiest out of us all and don't argue, 'cause you know I'm right, Luke!"

backstreets back ALRIGHT DUN DUN DUNDUN

band/idol au thing. i was listening to nysnc and then i sat up and was like Wait A Second and thats how this idea was born. poor rosa is going through it as she deals with their bullshit. havent written much for this one atm but

Robin got the email yesterday that she was getting transferred into group management.

She was being assigned to a newly established boy band named NXX and was now the group manager. Robin couldn't believe her eyes, she was a goddamned PR manager????? Who in their right mind got her to do this??

Sure, she'd done something similar in her first year with TE. Her first job with the company was working with their most successful girl group, JAEI, but she wasn't the group manager???? She was the one who managed their social media and scheduled interviews! That's nothing compared to actually managing a group?? How would she be able to manage this?

Robin needed coffee, and Celestine, and more coffee.

Dead in 3 years?? OR NOT

Right. this one Luke is Dead and is now a ghost who goes around haunting fancy places for fun. he ends up haunting marius' new home which is very fancy and he ends up befriending a ghost luke. again i have no snippet for this one bc. I have not written anything yet but it is an idea that i will eventually write!!!

hey god can you take this guy away

yk the river styx? charon the ferryman who takes over the dead people? Yeah that is luke pearce and marius, a very not dead person arrives asking to go to the underworld

Long boat rides offer a lot of time for thinking, but Luke was really all thinking out. He had been here for who knows how many years and no longer had much to think about, lest he wanted to question his very existence for the 8th time that week.

He has to admit though. This shit is so, so lonely. The lost dead people don't really talk to him and are too nervous about their journey to the Underworld to actually speak so they aren't any fun. You get sick of morbidly enjoying people's stress after a short while, he might be a courier of souls but he isn't a monster!

Which is why, on his next journey over the river, as he was letting people onto his boat and accepting their kinda gross coins from their mouth, Luke was pleasantly surprised to see a definitely not dead guy.

Vyn Richter Loses It

story is in the title tbh. vyn is tired he has had A Bad Week and just wants to get this nxx meeting over with and go home but then the blender blows up and there is a strange mixture everywhere (help Him)

He has zero patience for the members of the NXX team today (excluding Robin, of course). His lacking patience rears it head once again when he walks into headquarter and finds-

Well, it looks like a fucking bomb went off.

Keep in mind, Vyn owns the building that houses their headquarters. He paid for it and while he isn't lacking in money, it was still expensive, it's in the Victorian District for God's sake stuff there isn't exactly cheap.

So, pardon his reaction to finding the entire room covered in something white that quite frankly makes Vyn very nervous. Oh, and really annoyed. Not to mention the blasting of a K-Pop song he recognises since it was both Neil and Giann's favourite song for a while. (For about 5 months straight it was the only song allowed to be played in headquarters and in their modes of transport (it drove Vyn absolutely mad)). The song isn't helping with anything.

There is a distinct odour of vanilla and egg which is quite possibly the worst combination of things he's ever smelt. He covers his nose and closes his eyes in a desperate attempt to keep his growing temper in check and prepare himself for whatever he'll find in there.

RED ALERT VYN RICHTER IS HOT

this is just rosa thinking abt how hot all her team is and also realising that Vyn may be the hottest out them all and needing to go sit and think. this is mildly fanservice-y but its okay

Robin knew she worked with insanely attractive men. She knew it, she relished in it, she embraced it.

However since she is around attractive men so much, she tends to forget just how hot they are sometimes. At random points it hits her, like when Artem stretched his arms above his head and she just stared. And he had a tight shirt on. And she could see everything. (She excused herself and sat on the bathroom floor in headquarters for about 15 minutes, rethinking everything.)

She frequently had these random experiences and she usually handled them quite well. It came with a lot of self reflection and crying at just how lucky she was to be with such works of art regularly.

those r my drafts. my wips. can u tell i like marluke just a Bit

will i ever finish these? Who knows bc i certainly do not i am a busy person but i love them all so maybe one day u will see them on my ao3