#theWIPproject2020

[the-wip-project]

I’m so busy. Are you busy too?

I was trying to find a good date for a WIP-project before the year is over but man! October is for kinktober and @fictober-event​​, November is NaNoWriMo, December we’ll have various ways of ficmas and julefic. So that leaves us with September, which starts in four days. And I already signed up for Fic-in-box for that. 

So, how about we make a super quick and fast WIP-project two weeks in the middle of September? Let’s say, September 10 to 24. 

Super fast WIP-Project 2020

September 10 - 24, 2020

General concept: 

Finish one or more WIPs over this time. 

This event is open for all fandoms and original work. 

The tag is  #theWIPproject2020.

The deadline for your WIP is Thursday, 24. September 2020

How it works: Announce your participation now and post about your progress all through the two weeks under the tag #theWIPproject2020. Take a screenshot of your WIP, and tell us when and why you got started with it. I will reblog posts that show up in the tag here on this blog.

I’m mainly thinking about writing but if you have a piece of craft or a drawing that needs finishing? Go for it! Show us what it looks like now and let’s see the progress. 

Let’s see your “Daily WIP” posts, the “WIP struggles”, the “almost done” posts and the “attack of the plotbunnies” posts! Let’s encourage each other and have fun to finish our shit!

Who’s with me?

[greyias]

5!!

From the Cute Shippy Starter prompts: 5 - “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Apologies for this prompt taking so long! At least Tumblr didn’t eat it like the last one! Part five of the Adorkable “Date Night”. Part 1 can be found here, Part 2 here, and Part 3 here, and part 4 here. Also crossposted to AO3 for those who prefer to read over there.

The amble back from the public lockers was much slower. They’d somehow managed to stuff her entire armored getup into a few shopping bags from the dress store, and Theron was starting to regret his insistence on carrying the whole lot in a grand show of chivalry. Despite the armor being made from a combination of durasteel and veda cloth, it was still a lot of material and weighed down the bags considerably. He couldn’t help but wonder how she not only wore the getup day in and out, but made it seem so effortless with her acrobatic fighting style.

Still. He definitely wasn’t complaining about about the view he got out of the deal.

Grey was ambling a few feet in front of him, fingers laced behind her back. The skirt of the turquoise sundress swirled and swished with each step, and her head was tipped back to gaze at the neon spectacle of the Promenade, causing the bright lights to reflect off the ridiculous hat still perched on her head. It was, quite simply, the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.

She flashed him a bright smile from over her shoulder. “You’re falling behind.”

“Possibly because I’m carrying the combined weight of the entire Odessen armory.”

“You are not.”

“How do you not get a backache wearing this ridiculous outfit?”

“It’s not ridiculous,” she said lightly. “It’s regal.”

“You just want to look cool,” he shot back. “Admit it.”

“I am a Jedi, and I wish to appear the part.”

“Or you just really love how the cape makes you look like a cool action hero.”

“Are we speaking of why I love my armor?” she challenged. “Or why you do?”

“How can I love it when it weighs a metric ton?”

“I did offer to carry it,” she reminded him almost too sweetly, reaching out for the bag at his side.

With great effort he hefted it high and out of her reach, causing her to arch up on her tip-toes to try to grab at it. “Hey, I told you I got it.”

The action prompted that frustrated smile of hers that he loved: lips pressed together in consternation even as the edges of her mouth quirked upwards on their own accord. But before she could make a comment, a loud rumbling noise escaped her. 

Theron couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow. “Well, that’s a noise I never expected to hear.”

She flushed. “We were kicked out of the restaurant before our food arrived.”

“That was your stomach growling?”

“You act like you’ve never heard someone’s stomach rumble before.”

“No, no, I have,” he insisted, “but usually it doesn’t sound like an angry Sarlacc.”

“It does not!” she protested, lightly smacking him in the arm. 

The action almost caused him to lose his hold on the bag and he had to adjust his grip before it tumbled to the ground. He barely smothered a laugh at her chagrinned expression. “Either way, it sounds like we probably should get some food in you.”

“Perhaps.”

He tilted his head at her and didn’t bother to repress the smile tugging at his lips. “You know, it’s probably a little late to do this proper, but what the hell… let’s make this an official first date.”

She frowned. “But I thought we already had that? At the restaurant.”

“Not going to let me off that easily, are you?”

“I thought it was fun.”

It wasn’t clear whether or not she was being sarcastic, and he let out a heavy sigh. “Fine, fine. This will be our second date.”

“I am not sure why this has to be so formal.”

“Humor me.”

“Very well.” She dipped her head in acknowledgement. “Is a second date much different from the first? Does it require taking out an entire crime syndicate over caffa?”

He blinked at her for a few seconds, before she cracked a smile to let him know she was joking. Damn it, her and that deadpan would get him every time. He gave her a light shake of his head. “I mean, normal people usually take their potential significant other out for a meal, learn more about each other, catch a holoflick or something.”

“Don’t we… already do that?”

“I mean, yes.”

“Then why does it have to be so official?”

Theron just shrugged. Probably because neither of them really met the definition of “normal”, whatever that was. “Downtime’s important.”

She shot him a disbelieving look.

“What? I know what downtime is!” A dark blonde brow arched at him in reply and he let out another sigh. “Okay, so maybe I’m not the best person to give out dating advice. But! I’m all you’ve got at the moment, so let’s get this date started proper. With actual dinner this time.”

“Oh?” she asked. “Another fancy restaurant?”

“Even better.” He winked. “It also just happens to be on the way to the taxi stand.”

“How practical,” she remarked, but didn’t bother to hide her smile.

“That’s me, Mr. Practicality.” Somewhere in the galaxy, Lana Beniko was snorting in derision. “Besides, I’m banned from the nice places now. Or, well, Jonas is at least.”

“There is that too.”

“Besides,” he said, “it’ll give me an excuse to put this bag down.”

At its mention, she reached for the bag again, only for him to hold it out of her reach once more. “Sorry, Shorty.”

“Theron Shan,” she said in admonishment, although she was trying (and failing) to look serious.

He just grinned. “It’s this way.”

They continued walking, him still holding the bag up on high. After a few more failed swipes, she stopped trying to snatch it away and gave him a mock indignant expression that would have been more convincing if her lips weren’t twitching in a repressed smile. The brim of her hat flopping back into her eyes also ruined any intimidation factor she was going for.

The noodle cart was tucked away from the primary thoroughfare of the Promenade. Just far enough removed to avoid the astronomical high rent and the crush of the tourist crowds and be somewhat of a hidden, local treasure. Jonas had introduced him to the innocuous little spot during one of their early stakeouts, and it had become a staple on his visits to Nar Shaddaa.

Grey nodded in approval at the displayed prices on the side of the cart. “This is much more reasonable.”

“Just wait until you taste the noodles.” 

He caught the eye of the Ithorian behind the counter, ordered two of the vegetarian specials, and sat down at a stool, grateful for the opportunity to set the bag down at his feet. She quirked a brow at him, and he shot one right back at her.

“Trust me.”

“Oh, I do,” she said, joining him at the stool next to his. “I’m just surprised you didn’t get something with nerf nuggets.”

“These are good enough on their own. Besides, I can be flexible.” He nudged her with his elbow, gaining a tiny smile. “After all, you’ve been remarkably patient with me this whole evening.”

“It’s okay, I understand—”

“You deserve a nice time, you know,” he interrupted her. “Just let me make up for the first part of tonight.”

“It hasn’t been so bad,” she said, fingering the wide brim of her newest prize. “I did wind up getting a very nice hat after all.”

“I think you and I have very different definitions of nice.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true.”

“Is not.”

“It’s a good thing saving the galaxy doesn’t require a fashion sense, or we’d all be doomed.”

“Keep making fun of my hat and you’re going to wind up wearing it.”

There was a frightening amount of conviction in that threat, enough to give him some pause. She shot him a satisfied smirk and he absently kicked at her dangling feet. She shook her head but kicked right back, as if she couldn’t quite resist the temptation to rise to his bait. The back-and-forth was entertaining enough, that it seemed almost no time at all when they were presented with a pair of steaming takeaway boxes filled to the brim with Corellian buckwheat noodles smothered in a sauce so dark it was almost black.

He took in an appreciative whiff of the familiar, mouth-watering aroma wafting from the box and with a little smirk, tapped her box with his as if in cheers. “Eat up.”

She seemed to hesitate, trying to swirl up a delicate sized mouthful of noodles with her grub-sticks but was unused to working with the slippery texture. He grabbed a sizable but respectable portion with ease and took a careful bite. It was just as he remembered, the deeply savory, dark sauce clinging to the tubers and long hand-spun noodles. Even without the traditional nerf nuggets studding the dish, it was just as good now as it had been for each of those long stakeouts. As he twirled his grub-sticks around his next bite, he glanced up to gauge her reaction.

A small smile curved at her lips as she struggled to eat the messy dish with a sense of propriety, but the long strands made the task difficult. Not realizing she had an audience, she slurped the last noodle with flourish. The action flung some of the sauce onto the tip of her nose, gracing it with a several dark flecks. 

No small amount of fondness welled up deep within him at the sight, and he couldn’t resist delicately wiping the spots away with a finger. “Careful. You’ll give yourself more freckles than you already have.”

She wrinkled her nose at the comment, but was more intent on her meal than responding, so tipped her head down to take another bite. Unfortunately this caused the hat to flop down, the wide brim covering her eyes. 

“So the hat is just as troublesome for mealtime as it is to look at.” He flicked it back up with a grin.

Dark blonde brows narrowed at him as a deeply unimpressed look settled across her face, and before he realized what was happening, the ugly purple monstrosity was settling onto his head, the comically large brim falling into his eyes and obscuring his vision.

“Hey!”

“I warned you,” she said simply.

“It’s messing up my hair!”

“No, it looks good on you,” she insisted. “You’re as handsome as a Hutt.”

“I’m sorry,” Theron sputtered, knocking the brim of the fauxhawk-ruining atrocity so he could fix her with a look, “is there something you haven’t told me about you and Karagga?”

“No,” she said peevishly, quickly twirling up another portion of noodles.

“I’m just getting a little disturbed about the level of compliments you have for that slimy worm.”

“I’m sorry, are you jealous?”

“Should I be?”

“This is a ridiculous conversation.” The warmth and humor drained away, leaving her tone brittle. “You are the only person I have ever been in a relationship with. Thank you very much.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” She practically shoved the next mouthful of noodles in her mouth, gaze cast away from him.

“It was a joke,” he said flatly.

She took a few seconds to chew before bothering to glance up at him. “Well, it wasn’t funny.”

He blinked, trying to rewind the conversation to figure out where he’d misstepped. They had been having such a good time up until just a few seconds ago. He busied himself with twirling more noodles around his grub-sticks and shoving them in his mouth as an uncomfortable silence fell between them. Not liking the sudden sour turn, he snorted out an annoyed breath.

It took a few more beats before he was able to swallow his pride along with the mouthful of noodles. “What’s wrong?”

For a moment, he thought she’d try to brush it off again, before she let out a sigh and cast her eyes down at the half-eaten box of noodles. “I apologize, that was not fair of me.”

“What wasn’t?”

“I don’t… you’re the only person I have ever been with. Yet the opposite isn’t true.” He shifted uncomfortably, not really sure what to make of that statement. It was enough hesitation on his part the she quickly corrected herself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not my business.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he said after a moment. “No one other than maybe Jonas,” or his father, he thought with a wince, “ever really has been all that interested in my love life. Or lack of it.”

She blinked at him curiously, but seemed hesitant to press further. It was almost enough to wrangle another sigh out of him, but he resisted the urge. If it was something that bothered her enough to snap at him for a poorly worded joke… perhaps it was worth talking about a little.

“Look, yeah, I tried the relationship thing once or twice before we met, but… it never worked out.”

“I don’t understand why.”

Force help him, but she actually seemed genuinely mystified by the concept that someone wouldn’t want to date Theron Shan, super spy and jerk extraordinaire.

“You do realize you’re a bit unique, right?” he said it lightly, but there was no real humor in it for him. “Secretive workaholics aren’t exactly prime relationship material. Besides… when I wasn’t working, I used what free time I had trying to keep Teff’ith out of trouble. Not that she particularly cared for that either.”

Grey gave him a look that wasn’t entirely unsympathetic. “I like Teff’ith. She’s a good person—even if I can’t say I exactly understand your mutually antagonistic relationship.”

“To be honest, I don’t think either of us understand it either.” He shrugged. “Although I’m still glad you helped her out during that Revanite mess.”

“Of course,” Grey breathed.

“Most people wouldn’t have.” He again tried to keep his tone light, but again… she wasn’t most people. Although she didn’t seem to be picking up on that particular fact. “She’s probably the closest thing to a little sister I’ve got.”

“You haven’t mentioned her much since… I woke up.”

“We’ve been a little busy,” he reminded her. “Guess neither of us have made much time for non-work stuff. Dates. Or I guess even to just… talk. About things.”

She cast her gaze back down at her noodles. “I didn’t mean to pry. It just… came out.”

It would have been easy to tease her about that particular behavior not being very Jedi and proper. Of course, that might have opened a can of worms about a proper Jedi being in an exclusive, long-term relationship, which… they technically were in at this point. Even if it had taken this long to actually get to the more typical part of dating.

“You know, I never got past the first date much.” It felt awkward to admit that much of the truth, as he’d never actually said those words aloud to anyone. “Honestly, I’m not sure you could even call many of those actual dates. More one-night stands.”

It had been far more focused on the sex, and pretty light on the feelings. Although he had no way to phrase that in such a way that might put her at ease with the whole idea. 

“This… really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“No, of course not.” Her tone was clipped, belying her words. “Why would it? It’s not like we had met.”

It was probably best that she never go undercover, at all, because lying was clearly not her strong point. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“Well, I’m not! That would be ridiculous. I knew you had been in relationships before me.” One of these days, he’d have to teach her how to lie. Maybe not tonight, though. “Lots and lots of relationships.”

“I really wouldn’t classify them as relationships—”

“Oh, that helps!”

“You’re acting like I had a sex swing installed!”

“They make swings for that?” The exclamation didn’t sound scandalized, just a little flabbergasted and annoyed. Although it clearly came out much louder than she intended, because she immediately flushed and tried to hide her face. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

An uncomfortable silence descended between them, the sounds of the distant Promenade hubbub almost drowning out the Ithorian chef as he puttered about his cart. If he’d been listening to their conversation, he seemed fairly nonplussed about the whole thing. Although this was Nar Shaddaa. He’d probably heard far worse on a daily basis.

For his part, Theron stared into his own box of noodles as if it somehow held the answers he was searching for. Unfortunately as he tilted his head down, that damnable hat flopped back down in his eyes. He resisted, just barely, the temptation to fling the damn thing over the side of the Promenade and into the traffic whizzing by below, as he tried to replay the argument back in his head.

As much as she insisted she wasn’t jealous, it was clear there was an element of that in play, even if she wasn’t ready to admit it aloud. Was it the fact that he’d been with other people? Or was it that he was more experienced than her in this arena? If that was it, he just found the whole concept… weird. It wasn’t like he was an expert at any of this, far from it. Although for someone who seemed innately talented at saving the galaxy, he supposed it could be intimidating. Especially if she’d never had much of a chance for a normal life, and had no idea how to go about it now. Not that he’d had one either, but in comparison to her… it must have seemed that way.

After the whole incident with the Skytrooper Helmet, he’d kind of thought they’d hashed out this particular issue. Although he guessed not every insecurity evaporated overnight, especially the ones that were seated much deeper. They had a tendency to poke and prod at you, until either you slowly chipped them away — or they did to you.  

Kind of like him and the Force. Or his lack of it.

If he thought about it like that, he kind of saw a little where she was coming from. Even if she didn’t.

“I’m sorry.” Her quiet voice broke the silence. “None of this is my business nor concerns me — so it shouldn’t bother me.”

“But it does?”

She gave a small nod. “I wish it didn’t.”

“Can I ask what part?”

She pressed her lips together and gave a small shrug. “I don’t know.”

He summoned the ghost of a smile, and gently folded his hand over hers. “You don’t have to.”

She let out a long ragged breath. “It was inappropriate for me to bring up.”

“You can be a little inappropriate every now and then,” he said gently.

“But it’s not fair to put that on you.”

“Look, you’re human,” he said. “And sometimes being human means you have ugly feelings that come out occasionally, or possibly you don’t always say the right thing — like say, a certain boyfriend being kind of a Grade Aurek Ass most of tonight?”

“One bad turn doesn’t earn another.”

“No, maybe not,” he gave her a look, “but still. You’ve been pretty understanding with me throughout this whole endeavor. I think I can return the favor.”

That managed to crack a smile, and she reached forward, pushing the hat out of his eyes, hand lingering on the brim. 

“Sometimes I worry,” she said after a moment’s hesitation, “that you might want something… someone… normal. One day.”

“You’re kidding, right? You’re amazing.”

“I am just me.”

“Well, if I recall correctly, ‘just you’ practically flew across a fancy restaurant earlier this evening to catch some bad guys,” he said. “I’ll take that over whatever ‘normal’ is any day of the week.”

She ducked her head, trying to hide the smile threatening to blossom.

“And even without that,” he continued on after a moment, “you’re… you.”

He wished he had a better way to articulate this point. How different she was. For him. How… special. But those words couldn’t form, no matter how much he tried to wrap his tongue around them. Perhaps a normal boyfriend would be able to get that sentiment out. Actually be able to vocalize words with actual feelings attached. But he was a far cry from one… and maybe that was closer to the actual heart of the matter.

“You know, I don’t really feel all that normal either.” It wasn’t the right thing to say… but at least he could actually say it. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”

“Theron…”

“Maybe we don’t have to be,” he pressed on, “maybe we can just… be our own thing? And figure out whatever that is together.”

Grey blinked a couple of times, as if trying to fight back something caught in her eye. She seemed to finally manage it, and leant in to give him a light kiss. He brushed a hand across her cheek in return.

“I think I can manage that,” she murmured.

“Good.” He summoned a smile. “So, what do you say we finish off this oh-so-normal date?”

“I suppose we’ve already come this far,” she admitted. “Although what’s left at this point?”

“Well,” he stood up, hauling the giant bag of armor with him, “a proper gentleman would walk you to your door. Not sure if I qualify on that part though.”

“We can pretend,” she said with a smile, “just for a little while.”

She tucked herself under his arm, and they resumed their trek to the taxi stand. The journey was quiet, but the good kind. Where he could feel her head rest against him at their sedate pace and let the colored neon lights wash over them. The air may have still had a hint of smog, the entire environment artificial, but the moment was still real. 

When they reached the door of her “little” Sky Palace, she flashed him a smile. “Well, we’re here.”

“That we are,” he agreed, propping his elbow up against the door, leaning into her personal space.

“So, what usually happens at this point?”

“Hmm, second date, right?”

“Let’s call it that, sure.”

“Well, if it was a good date? You might give me a kiss goodnight.”

She gave him a little grin, before letting him know just how successful the evening had been. When she broke away, he caught a mischievous glint in her eye. “And then what happens?”

“Well, we’re still pretending that I’m a proper gentlebeing, right?”

“Yep.”

“Hmm… if I were being proper, I might ask you out for a third date. Or so I hear. Not sure I ever made it that far, traditionally speaking.”

“So,” she said, adjusting his jacket collar, “what’s so different on the third date?”

“Well, it’s a lot like the second date,” he said, “but after the kiss, if you really liked me, you might invite me inside.”

“Oh is that so? For how long?”

“At least for a drink, for starters.” He bobbed his eyebrows at her suggestively. “Or the whole night. If you were up for it.”

“I see,” she said, fingers curling around the lapels of his jacket. “Perhaps we should just go ahead and finish the night off with date number three?”

He couldn’t help but grin as she pulled him inside the open door.

Part Six: Nightcap

[sweet-ree]

These are two of my many WIPs. A Bendy mug for my son and an SCP mug for my daughter. I have finished the carving since these pics were taken, but I'm working on the underglaze. SCP needs two firings, but I hope to at least get it in line for the second one before the deadline. Cuz, I have a whole shelf full of unfinished projects.

(And, yes, I know he'll have to use a straw with the bendy mug or he'll poke his eyes out)

[southern-belle-outcasts]

//not bad for 24 hours work? I need to proofread, but I think chapter 1 is finished.

[dayenurose]

Super Fast WIP Challenge Final Update

It’s a few days after the Super Fast WIP project has ended and I’m just finding the time now to report my results (which probably gives a clue about the hectic nature of my life recently). Why does it always seem that when you decide to participate in a writing challenge, life decides to get extra chaotic?

While I didn’t finish the project I was working on, I did make progress. As I mentioned in my last report, the end does feel within sight, so that is a positive.

In ‘Risk and Reward,’ I reached the editing stage for Chapter 12 of 13. And I’ve mulled over the content of the last chapter. So, progress has been made, even if it is slow progress.

And, I’ve kept up with posting updates on Mondays. 

Unexpectedly, I was also able to get a one-shot that I’ve been working on-again/off-again for a bit to the editing stage. (I’d managed to find the time to write, when I realized I didn’t have my working copy with me. So, I decided to use that time to finish this other story).

@the-wip-project​ thanks for organsing the event. It was definitely the boost I needed. Looking forward to the next one.

[cheile]

I'm slowly trying to push through my Voyager rarepair WIP for the WIP project. Still unsure I will finish it by the 24th, but at least I will have some progress on it.

The story is divided into two parts (one from each character's POV). So you will see me refer to part one or two in updates.

Between the 10th and today I have accomplished the following:

-- finished the opening scene (1)

-- have a solid idea for scene two (1)

-- started scene two (1)

-- have some new character development ideas for the other opening scene (2)

Sooo that is where it is at for now. Watch this space for hopefully more....if Sasha (muse) behaves...

[alarajrogers]

Yes! Finished a WIP within the deadline

I was participating in the mini-WIP Project (@the-wip-project) that ran from Sept 10 - 24 this month. Wrote 6407 words to complete Marc Snowfrolic and the Quest for Biscuits, which is part of my 52 Project and was published today.

[thatonewitchwhovapes]

So there has been a lot of interest in me continuing (and finishing!) Polis Department of Criminal Justice. I am officially signing up to be part of The WIP Project. It’ll be two weeks long, and that is the story I have decided to work on! I want to finish it, and I know so many of you want to see the end! Not to mention, I may have already started planning a sequel!

So, if you are interested in finishing a fic (OR JUST WORKING ON ONE!) or an original work, go to @the-wip-project and join! I will be posting updates on my progress. Right now, we are sitting at 23 chapters I believe. Here’s to finding the end of the fic!

[fandomn00blr]

WIP Wednes-- Thursday!

@midnightprelude and @whatsherfacewrites tagged me last night! w00t!

Here’s the thing I’m working on right now for In Deep...

Gotta rein these two in, and it’s hard...cuz they keep teasing each other and cracking each other up.

Anders waved his hand, dismissing her lurid implications with a little smirk. “That’s all just lies Wardens tell themselves and others to justify their wanton promiscuity…”

“Oh, wow...when did you become such a prudish Chantry sister?” Solona laughed.

“YOU MARRIED A CHANTRY SISTER!” he shouted indignantly, trying not to give her the satisfaction of his own laughter. 

“Certainly not a prudish one!”

Tagging along (for next week or whenever!) @faerieavalon, @serial-chillr, @lostinfantasies38, @elveny, @ranawaytothedas, @charlatron, @faerelden, @kita-lavellan, @hermiowngranger, @gothkimmyschmidt, @paraparadigm, @cassandra-pentughasst, @crusade-against-stupid (hi!!! tell me if I’m tagging the wrong blog!), and ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO SHARE (seriously, I want to read all your snippets if you got ‘em)!

[honekitteh]

Fic: Countdown - Chapter 9

Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: M Genre: Angst, H/C, Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Humor,  Canon-typical levels of poor decision-making Synopsis: A distress call leads the Jedi Battlemaster to Ziost, but time is running out.  Follows the storyline of The Rise of the Emperor and inserts missing scenes.   Author's Notes: Thank you to @storyknitter​ for giving this chapter a once over.  You have no idea how much that means to me! Warnings: See Chapter 1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |  Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Crossposted to AO3

Across the din of Carrick Station, the pounding of my heart was the only sound I could focus on as I approached the cantina in the center of the promenade.  I took a deep breath and sank into its rhythm, matching my steps to each thump. My eyes flickered between each patron in the cantina, focusing every so often on an individual:  There was a blindfolded Miralukan at the bar, sipping on a light blue beverage, tilting his head ever so slightly towards the commotion behind him. A hulking Devaronian was talking loudly to a tiny greenish skinned Twi'lek, who shrank at each word as though struck by a heavy blow.  Another man, a brown-haired thin human in a brown nondescript vest, slid up next to the Miralukan, also taking note of the loud display.

It was far livelier than I had expected, but my knowledge of bar etiquette could leave a lot to be desired.  Though I’m sure Doc would kindly tell me that the station’s cantina is tame compared to other planets. But that is a pondering for another time.

Sure enough, my target was precisely where I’d expected him.  It felt like a lifetime ago when we just met briefly to discuss the business dealings of a... mutual friend who had been acting suspicious.  I fidgeted with my button-up shirt, trying to pull it down as it did not completely cover my stomach.  I was not normally self-conscious about it, given my typical attire, but this was different: the station had a chill to the air that I hadn’t accounted for.  After straightening the shirt and brown vest, I took a quick glance at myself in the reflection of a pillar nearby. The vest and shirt combo, along with the dual-wielding belt, made me more like a gunslinger than a Jedi.  Kira had been quite insistent that I should not look like a Jedi if I’m going on a date. Was this a date? I suppose it was. After all, I didn’t even have my weapons on me. I figured should an incident occur, I’ll just rely on my wits and the Force to come up with a solution.

It was a pity I always had to think in such a way.  I’m sure all contingencies had been taken into account.  I took a step in the aforementioned direction, keeping my senses open and my guard up.  As I slid into the seat across from Theron Shan, I raised an eyebrow and glanced over the slightly unbuttoned henley underneath his trademark red jacket.  “So…” I began, “About that rain check.”

His eyes didn’t leave my own as I settled into my seat, his brow furrowing only slightly before his gaze softened.  His left arm was relaxed propped up along the top of the booth he was slouched into. “I’ve got a bit of time,” he began after a moment, crossing his legs, “Borrowed time, so not a whole lot, but should be enough to share a drink.”

I returned his studying gaze, glancing to the shirt he was wearing and the hint of flesh beneath the buttons, then back up to his eyes.  “Is that a new shirt?”

He quirked an eyebrow.  “Yeah. You like it?”

“Is nice,” I said softly, my voice trailing off the rest of my thoughts as I inadvertently got lost in a lingering glance again towards the shirt’s opening.

He gave me a small wink and motioned towards the tiny Twi'lek over at the bar.  She quickly made her way towards us, away from the now-shouting Devaronian with a grateful expression.

“Ever tried Mandalorian kri’gee?” Theron asked.

I tilted my head, curious.  “No? A drink?”

He smirked. “Are you even a drinker?”

“I… partake… on occasion.”

He looked up at the Twi'lek, who was shaking her head towards me with her eyes wide.  He tapped his finger on his mouth. “This might not be the drink for a beginner.”

I looked between the two, frowning.  “I am not some delicate flower that needs protecting!”

His grin grew larger at my protest, then gave the Twi'lek waitress a wink holding up two fingers.  She nodded subserviently, though giving me a glance of what could only be described as concern. Her trip to the bar was uneventful as she obtained the drinks, the earlier rowdy Devaronian nowhere to be seen.  Neither the Miralukan nor the human were still at the bar either.  

Theron remained alert as we waited, eyes scanning the crowd.  The silence between us only served to amplify the heartbeat pounding in my ears and the server seemed to have run all the way to Mandalore to retrieve our order.  

Soon enough, however, she returned and set the bottle in front of us with two glasses.  She murmured the customary acknowledgment of our thanks in Huttese and asked us if there was anything else we needed to let her know.  I nodded to her and asked simply for a menu while Theron skillfully poured the Mandalorian kri’gee into two glasses and slid the small tumbler over to me.

He raised his glass and tilted his head.  “Anything to toast?” he asked.

I considered for a moment and raised my glass.  “To a rain check.”

He smiled at me for that and nodded.  “A rain check.” Then we both downed the glasses in one gulp.

I coughed and sputtered a few times as a fire raged through my senses.  I could feel Theron’s amusement at my suffering before I heard his laugh.

“Want another?” he asked within the midst of his laughter.

I slid along the rounded bench closer to him and punched him in the shoulder before he could react.  The leather of his jacket creaked at the amount of pressure and a small crease was left behind.

He straightened his coat a bit.  “Hitting on me already?” he laughed.

I hit him again, finding myself giggling just a bit.  “I’m tempted to say ‘Challenge Accepted’ but I sense that might be an unwise decision on an empty stomach.”

He was watching me with a smirk.  Whether he was amused by my comment or watching me to see how the alcohol was going to affect me, I could not tell.  After a moment of great consideration, he stated, “True. Very unwise. Very unbecoming for a lady of your station.”

“You’re the one that suggested… this… this...” I waved at the bottle, “Thing.  Are you trying to get me drunk, Theron Shan?”

“Me?” he asked, putting a hand on his chest in what could only be described as mock hurt, “I would never.  It is not my fault you decided to take my drink challenge on an empty stomach.”

The waitress slid a menu in front of me and I looked down at it for a brief second before Theron slid it away from me and pointed towards an item on the menu.  I frowned a bit and took the menu back as the waitress left and looked down at it.

“Dumplings. You have a fondness for them if I remember correctly,” he explained.  

I tilted my head at him.  “Street food festival on Coruscant.  Before you sent me in to almost drown on Manaan.  I remember.”

“Hey, you made it out…” he pouted slightly, sliding his hand over mine which was resting on top of the menu.

“Can’t say it was an altogether terrible experience.”

“Are your ears red from the drink?”  He was smirking at me.

While indeed, the kri’gee had completely gone straight to my head, it wasn’t like I was going to let him in on that.  Not willingly at least. “What?”

“You’re blushing from something and it’s gone to your ears.”  He moved his hand from where it had been on top of mine and brushed his fingers lightly along the outer edge of my right ear.

I shivered at the touch of his finger and bit my lip.  I looked over at him and studied him closely. Sure enough, his cheeks and ears had a slightly reddish tint to them as well.  “Excuse me? Look who’s talking.” I punched him in his shoulder. “Your face isn’t any better.”

He shrugged leaning back and resting both of his arms along the top of the booth seat.  “It’s obviously a side effect of the kri’gee. I’m not the one who’d never had it before.”

“I should throw something at you.”

“Violence also seems to be a side effect of the kri’gee in some people,” he said, rubbing his chin for a moment in thought.  

How had I not noticed that he’d grown out his typical 5 o’clock shadow into a quarter of an inch beard before?  I blame the henley. The way the light fabric and unbuttoned shirt laid on him was extremely distracting.  

His musing continued, “Maybe that’s why Mandalorians like it as part of their celebrations.  Definitely something to investigate.”

I pursed my lips at him, debating a retort.  Given that the one that popped in my mind was a stab at him being on administrative leave, I opted against it and decided to attempt a menacing glare.

“Are you okay?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Glaring at you menacingly.  Is it working?”

He tried to smother a grin, the corners of his lips twitching upward despite his effort, and said softly, “So cute.”

I pouted.  “Cute isn’t intimidating.”

He shook his head.  “No. No indeed it is not.”

The Twi'lek waitress returned and set down a very large plate of dumplings.  I felt a small rumble in my stomach as I realized exactly how hungry I was.

“Jyana,” Theron stated softly, “Are you already drunk?”

“No…” Then I hiccupped.  I felt my ears heating up again as I sighed.  “... Maybe.”

“After one drink huh…” he stated.  He took one of the dumplings from the platter and offered it to me.  “Have some food,” he smiled and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I won’t tell anyone.”

I gave him a dubious glance and reached to take the dumpling from him with his hand.  He pulled it back and shook his head. I furrowed my brow in frustration and confusion, then looked up at him, still holding it out for me.  Oh.  I then leaned in cautiously and allowed him to feed me the first dumpling.

He winked at me and grabbed one for himself.

“Which dumplings did you get?” I asked as I picked up a different one. “Or did you order a variety?”

“I told her to surprise us.”

I furrowed my brow.  “I did not notice you actually saying anything other than pointing at the menu?”

“There are many different languages, you know,” he said raising an eyebrow, “Some of which are not verbal.”

“Huh, so like thieves cant or something like that?  I think that’s what it was called.”

He nodded a bit.  “Something like that.  Not something they teach at the temple?”

“Oh, they offer it should some desire to learn,” I said, “My skills laid elsewhere.”

“You do excel at what you do,” he smiled and took his second dumpling.

I smiled a bit and scratched the back of my neck, before frowning a bit.  I felt a nudge lightly and then looked back over to him.

“None of that,” he whispered.  “And you’re red again. That is definitely a fascinating development.”

I sighed heavily and gave him a half-hearted punch to his shoulder.  “You stop that.”

He rubbed his shoulder lightly with a pout.  “Want another drink?”

I stared, dubious, at the bottle of kri’gee.  Before I answered though, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck raise lightly.  “Theron?”

“Hm?”

“Are we being watched?”

“Human?  Brown hair?  Brown vest? Fairly unremarkable otherwise?”

I pursed my lips at the description.  “Yes.”

“Dammit.”  Theron slid slightly away from me in the seat.

I raised my eyebrow at him.  

He fidgeted and bit his lip.  Something told me that he hadn’t accounted for this particular contingency.  He took a deep breath and stated quickly, “Act casual.”

I simply replied, “I don’t understand,” because I didn’t.

Before he could respond, the man in question had slid onto the edge of the bench next to Theron.  “Shan,” he drawled out, “When were you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Balkar,” he growled.  

I raised an eyebrow between the both of them and reached for my empty glass and looked down at it, frowning.

“Jonas Balkar, SIS,” the newcomer continued, “An old friend of Agent Shan’s here.”

“An old annoyance is more like it.”

Jonas waved Theron’s comment off.  He then studied the bottle in front of us.  “Mandalorian kri’gee? Wow, Theron, that’s your idea for the first drink of the night?”

“And you have a better idea?”

Giving Theron a pointed look that clearly impled, “Of course I do, you idiot,” he shrugged and flagged the waitress down.  “Allow me,” he said, exchanging a few hand gestures upon her arrival. She nodded and went back to the bartender. He looked back at us.  “So: no introductions?”

Before I even opened my mouth to respond, Theron quickly stated, “What do you want, Balkar?”

“I was just in the area.  Saw you here. Thought I’d say hello.  Pity you won’t introduce me to the lady.”  He reached his hand towards me.

Theron put his hand on top of Jonas’ before the latter could take my hand with his.  This time, I interrupted Theron’s objections and scooted closer to both of them. “Jyana is fine.  Old friends, huh?”

Jonas’s smile broadened and he nodded.  “We go way back.”

Theron slumped into his seat and looked back across the cantina.  His eyes flickered between each currently visible patron. I followed his gaze and noticed that Kira had taken up residence at the bar next to a Mirialan lady in casual attire.

“I could tell you so many stories.”

“Oh?” I leaned in, definitely intrigued.  The waitress returned and put a large light green beverage in front of me.  The rim of the glass was lined with brightly-colored rainbow salt and there was a holographic umbrella in it.  I studied the drink before slowing reaching for it.

Theron halted my attempt.  “Give me a moment,” he muttered.

“What, you don’t trust me?” Jonas laughed.

I looked between the two, curiously.  Theron sighed and let me take it. I slowly sipped the drink, finding it surprisingly fruity.  

“With everything I do for you, Shan, a little trust sometime would be nice.”

“Like the last time you got me captured and my implants almost stolen?”

“That was just that one time.  And I’d given you plenty of reports so you would have been aware had you just read them.”

“Right,” he sighed and looked over at me.  The waitress set down a pair of tumblers filled with an amber liquid on ice in front of the two agents.  

“I feel like there’s a story here,” I stated after taking another sip of the fruity monstrosity.

“Oh there definitely is, but sadly a great deal of that is classified,” Jonas said.

I raised an eyebrow, but opted to leave out the part that there was a great possibility that my clearance level in some respects exceeded his own.  But I was not entirely sure how much the term Battlemaster weighed within the SIS, nor was I inclined to find out. Theron seemed to want to keep who I was secret, and if I was completely honest, I wanted to be discreet as well.

“I could tell you a great story that involves a goat,” he continued.

Theron quickly cut him off, “And we’re done here.”

“A goat?” I asked.

“Excuse me?” a familiar voice cut through the conversation.  I looked up to find Kira and the Mirialan woman from the bar standing in front of the table.  Theron tilted his head at the intrusion and then a smirk crossed his lips.

“Hello ladies,” Jonas replied, “Having a fine evening?”

“Well, you see, this lovely lady beside me here has been waiting for some,” Kira paused a bit and looked at her companion, “Jonas Balkar was it?”

“Yes, Jonas,” the green-skinned lady nodded.

“Yes. She’s been waiting for quite some time. Perhaps you all could help us find him?”

“He’s right here,” Theron spoke up, nudging the Agent beside him.

“Oh? Well how lucky are we then,” Kira grinned. “Pity though.  I told her that if he didn’t show up, I’d happily spend some time with her.”

The Mirialan grinned, “Kira does seem to be far more entertaining company.”

“I would definitely not neglect you by bothering other patrons of the cantina.”

“Now ladies,” Jonas interrupted and got up out of the booth, taking his glass with him, “I’m sure I can come to some more fascinating arrangement.”  He started to lead them both away from Theron and me.

Kira peeked back over her shoulder and winked.

“Huh, he was supposed to be meeting someone himself,” Theron mused to himself.

I raised an eyebrow over at him.  “Are you filing this away for later?”

“Absolutely.”

I shook my head with a laugh.  “I suppose I’m not supposed to ask you about the goat?”

Theron’s expression of mirth melted into one of dread.  “Please don’t.”

“Aw,” I pouted slightly, “It sounds funny.”

He grumbled and took a long sip of his own beverage.

“Fine.  I won’t.”  I elbowed him in his arm.  “Lighten up. The night is still yet young.”

He nudged me back and then smirked.  “More dumplings then?”

“Yes.”  I nodded, taking one of the still warm dumplings from the platter and offering it to him. “Very much yes.”

[barbex]

I was tagged for a First Line thing by ?? @cullenlovesmen ? and more? I forgot but thank you that you all still think of me even though I so often don’t respond to your tag games @gremlinquisitor @lauraemoriarty @bexterrr @hollyand-writes @aban-asaara @natsora @theherocomplex @dafan7711 @pikapeppa @charlatron @imbiowaresbitch @adalhied-prime

Chapter 19 of Lyrium Skin:

"Could you give me hand, Fenris?" Merrill crouches at the edge of the cliff they've been scouring for the last three hours, leaning over the edge in what looks like an attempt to kill herself by crashing onto the wave breaking rocks far below. 

Using this for my status report for the-WIP-project, let me give you a bit of a Making-of for this bit. I really like this start because of the scene setting in one sentence.

But I have some writerly ramblings...

I struggled (what else is new) to start this chapter. The last chapter was so very painful and emotional, I had no idea how to continue from there. But as always, the characters are a reflection of their writer and after weeks of chewing this over, I decided to lean into the avoidance. This bit here comes a little further down the page:

Ever since his breakdown in Anders' and Hawke's arms, after Anders had done the magical maintenance on his lyrium brands, the three of them have slept in Hawke's bed every night and he has woken up with Anders' arm wrapped around him and his nose buried in Hawke's neck on most mornings. It's a peaceful truce between them that he has not believed to be possible. 

They haven't spoken about it, what it means and if it will lead to more but it has become a fragile little ritual. Every night, the three of them eat dinner together and then retreat to the library to read. Anders is always too restless and goes back into the basement to check his patients and at some point at night, Hawke and Fenris drag him back upstairs, make him clean himself, sometimes even bathe him together if he's too exhausted to do it himself. Fenris got him an orlesian toothbrush and it's one of the funniest things for Fenris to watch Marian and Anders struggle to brush their teeth with the unfamiliar tools. And then the three of them climb into bed together and quickly fall asleep as if they have done this forever.

He has no reference if this is a normal development for their fragile mutual acceptance and friendship but several crude remarks from Isabela has him suspect that it probably isn't. But he has never felt this safe in his life before.

Yes, that’s a whole lot of internal thoughts introspection to explain why I’m not writing “the morning after”. It feels a bit like cheating, to be honest. But I allow myself this cheating because Fenris truly knows jack shit about normal human relationships, Anders is a mess of PTSD and Hawke... Miss Do-not-talk-about-feelings isn’t exactly an expert on relationships either. 

Now there is a question hidden in here somewhere why these three relationship failures speak so much to me but I’m not quite willing to explore that. Let’s just say, the morale of this story is: 

When in doubt, lean into the characters.

[the-wip-project]

The WIP Project 2020

One more time onto the breach! 

We’re doing this from January 18 until February 22 this year. That’s five weeks.

Finish one or more WIPs over this time. This event is open for all fandoms and original work. The tag is  #theWIPproject2020.

The deadline for your WIP is Saturday, 22. February 2020, 12:00 CEST

How it works: Announce your participation now and post about your progress all through the five weeks under the tag #theWIPproject2020. Take a screenshot of your WIP, and tell us when and why you got started with it. I will reblog posts that show up in the tag here on this blog.

There will be no prices this time around, this event is just for you and your work. I’m mainly thinking about writing but if you have a piece of craft or a drawing that needs finishing? Go for it! Show us what it looks like now and let’s see the progress. 

Let’s see your “Daily WIP” posts, the “WIP struggles”, the “almost done” posts and the “attack of the plotbunnies” posts! Let’s encourage each other and have fun to finish our shit!

[greyias]

86. “I got you a present.”

Part four of the Adorkable “Date Night”. Part 1 can be found here, Part 2 here, and Part 3 here. Yes, this story is still going. One day, it will be finished, I swear.

The Promenade was the glittering, bustling tourist center of Nar Shaddaa. Bright lights, neon holoboards every few feet, and chock-full of the usual amenities of any urban center, including public storage lockers. Hell, compared to the rest of the planet, the streets here on the Promenade were practically sterile.

But Theron still wouldn’t recommend walking around them barefoot. Not that his companion was paying that particular bit of advice much mind.

“I am not wearing those heels again,” she said primly.

“What if you step on a hypospray needle?” Theron asked earnestly. “Who knows what sort of disease you could pick up.”

“I do not see any used hyposprays scattered about, do you?”

“Well I’m looking for them now.”

“You are worrying too much. I am used to walking around rough ground in my bare feet.”

“I really doubt there’s broken beer bottles in your secret meditation spot on Odessen,” he pointed out.

Grey shot him a look. “You are being melodramatic.”

“I am not,” he sputtered helplessly. “I just don’t want you to pick up Bothan Nether Rot from stepping on some piece of trash!”

“I’m fairly certain that is not contracted via laceration.”

“Could you just—” he waved an arm in frustration, “—here. I’ll carry you.”

“You’ll what?”

“It’s not that far to the lockers,” he insisted. “You can hang on my back, and as a bonus, I won’t have to hear Lana lecture me for letting ‘the galaxy’s best hope’ pick up Smashbone fever from some wino’s trash pile.”

“That’s not how you get—wait… are you offering me a piggyback ride?”

He glared at her. “Are you refusing one?”

“I am just a little confused by your insistence I’ll step on my death on a short walk down the street.”

“Just humor me, okay?”

She let out a long suffering sigh that he thought bordered a little on the dramatic side but gave in. After a bit of awkward shuffling that included him getting cuffed on the ear, a lot of tugging and rearranging of the skirt on her dress (because they didn’t really need a repeat of the restaurant incident), and a little swaying before he found his balance, they were making their way back down the boardwalk.

“I feel ridiculous,” she muttered. “Everyone’s staring.”

“No one’s staring,” Theron insisted as they walked by a Rodian couple who were clearly gawking at the pair of humans. “We’re just two normal people, doing normal people things.”

“Speaking words aloud does not automatically make them true,” she muttered, giving the startled Rodians a severe look.

“We’re almost there,” he tried to assure her.

“Define ‘almost’.”

“A few more blocks.”

She groaned, trying to bury her face into his neck and hide from the curious onlookers. “Is it too late to risk stepping on all of your fictitious medical detritus lining the streets?”

From the gradual appearance of the big dictionary words and overtly proper grammar, it was clear that she was reaching the end of her patience. Theron let out a sigh, stopping in front of one of the kitschy souvenir shops that ringed the Promenade. As he caught sight of a cheesy and borderline offensive shirt the display mannequin was sporting, an idea came to him.

“What about option three?”

She pulled her face out hiding, forehead scrunching up in confusion. “There was a third option?”

He flashed her a smirk as best he could over his shoulder, and tilted his head towards the entrance. “Let’s make a quick detour.”

With a wobbling lurch, they made it to the entryway of the shop, and his reluctant passenger gratefully clambered down back to her feet. The floor of the store probably wouldn’t pass any military spot checks (or a general health inspector on a Republic world for that matter), but it was worlds away cleaner than the streets.

Just as Theron suspected, the shop was packed to the brim with a large variety of kitschy knick-knacks, souvenir tunics, cheap gaudy shot glasses, and everything in between. It was near the back of the shop that he’d found what he was looking for, a gaudy pair of bright purple sandals that was sure to clash with her ensemble, but at least would keep her feet marginally protected from the hypospray needles and shards of glass that most certainly were lining the streets.

Grabbing his prize, he began to wind through the overpacked shelves to try and find where the stubborn blonde Jedi had wandered off to. It wasn’t like the shop was that big, but almost every usable centimeter had been crammed in with merchandise. He gave the Tickle-Me Wampas lining the shelves a long, suspicious look, fairly certain that they were not officially licensed products. Typical Nar Shaddaa. Even the places with a veneer of legitimacy still had at least their finger in some sort of seedy pot.

Dodging around some Chatty Kath Hound dolls and a display of mildly offensive Huttball caps, he finally managed to break free from his retail prison and caught sight of his barefoot girlfriend in front of the floor-to-ceiling hat display. At his approach, she turned to face him, arms behind her back. She was unsuccessfully fighting down a smile, trying to bite her lip to keep it at bay. It was a look that was, quite frankly, more adorable than it had any right to be.

“Guess what I found!”

“I’m a little afraid to.”

“Oh, come on.”

“A backdoor frequency to hijack the Eternal Fleet?”

“Like that exists,” she snorted derisively. “Besides, this is a gift shop. I doubt they’re selling Zakuul’s state secrets.”

“Well, they seem to have everything else here,” he pointed out.

“Including this,” she announced proudly, pulling the object out from behind her back.

Theron tilted his head, trying to parse out why she was so happily and proudly holding what appeared to be a large, purple bell, neatly decorated with golden scrollwork and a rather sharp spike jutting out of the top. Was that supposed to be its handle? Or was the bell meant to be wielded like a weapon? He had so many questions.

“That’s certainly a… thing,” he finally said.

Her bright smile faded a fraction. “You don’t recognize it?”

“No?”

She narrowed a brow at him, and then plopped the bell on top of her head. It was way too big for her, and immediately the large golden brim flopped in front of her eyes. Undeterred, she tipped it back, a wide grin across her freckled face. “It’s the hat!”

“The hat?” he echoed.

“The hat,” she said again, and then seeing his confusion, let out a long sigh. “You know, the best hat. From the statue of Karagga!”

“Oh stars, no!” Recognition suddenly dawned on him that he was staring at a genuine replica knockoff of the most godawful ugly piece of headwear he’d ever seen. “Why would someone make more of that thing?”

“Look at the scrollwork,” she insisted, “it’s so delicate and beautiful.”

“I’m sorry, did you go blind in the five minutes it took me to find you a pair of sandals?”

She gave a quiet harrumph as she tried to balance the world’s ugliest bell on her head. “I like it.”

He managed to contain the exasperated sigh that threatened to escape, and instead held out the footwear he’d managed to find buried in the back of the shop. “Well, good. I got you a present — a matching pair of sandals.”

A blonde brow narrowed at him, clearly not receptive to the flat, sarcastic tone. “I’m not sure I trust your choice in footwear.”

“And I don’t trust your choice in millinery,” he said, “so I guess we’re even.”

That earned him a dark look and he sighed, shaking the pair of sandals as if they were a peace offering. The severity of the look only eased slightly as she took them and tried them on, the wide brim of the hat flopping back down into her face the moment her head tipped downward. It was funny, but the sandals did almost match the eyesore on top of her head. Even if both colors of purple clashed with the aqua shade of her dress.

“These are much more comfortable than the heels,” she allowed after a moment.

“Probably less deadly too,” he said with only a hint of regret. He probably wouldn’t be able to turn the sandals into a projectile weapon nearly as efficiently.

“I guess we should pay for these,” she said. “I feel like we have probably broken enough rules for the evening.”

“Well, that’s no fun.”

“I am not adding ‘shoplifting’ to this evening’s list of activities.” Her tone was both prim and firm.

“Spoilsport.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she carefully took the giant hat from her head and placed it back on the shelf. Her fingers lingered on the intricate scrollwork for a second more, an almost wistful smile playing at her lips. Then she turned and made her way towards the checkout register.

Theron began to follow her, but the bright garish colors of the hat caught his eye, and his steps slowed to a stop.

He stared at the ugly thing. It stared back. The hideous clashing colors assaulting his vision, making him question his hesitation. All he had to do was walk away, and he’d never have to see it again. It would just be so easy. Theron shot a glance to the retreating form of his girlfriend, the image of that sad smile almost as seared into his brain as the colors of the hideous hat. With the heaviest of sighs, he snatched the cursed object from its resting place and marched up to the checkout counter.

The look he got when he plopped it unceremoniously on her head was almost worth the price of the stupid thing. Theron tried to pretend that he didn’t see it, instead making a show of pulling out several credit chips to pay for the purchase of both the hat and sandals. Although the slight quirk at the corner of his mouth may have given him away.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said quietly when they finally exited the store.

Theron shrugged. “We’re on a date, right?”

“I do not see how that equals a purchase of an unnecessary hat.”

“Do you want me to go return it?”

“No! I love it!” Her protest was accentuated by her grabbing the brim of the item in question, effectively pulling it back down in her eyes again. The damn thing was way too big for her.

He flicked the brim back up out of her eyes, watching as the freckles on her nose crinkled with her smile. Okay, maybe it was worth the eye strain caused by the ugliest thing to man. And maybe the stupid thing was made just the slightest bit less atrocious when she tipped it back so it sat on her head at a jaunty angle, brim laying on her bangs so they flattened to her forehead.

“What do you say we go get your armor then?” he asked, tilting his head in the direction they’d been heading before their little detour. “The date’s not over yet.”

His answer was a smile as bright as the sun and her fingers lacing through his. “Lead the way.”

Part Five: A “Normal” Date

[sweet-ree]

Another mug glazed and ready for firing for @the-wip-project. This one is a trans flag for my friend's son. @ellebeedarling

(The Bendy mug is in line for final firing, the N7 mug's handle broke off and is a tumbler now, carving has started on another Mass Effect mug, a Marvel mug is partly glazed... I'm getting there lol)

[captainderyn]

The WIP Project 2020: Wrap Up

So the @the-wip-project initiative for the start of this year ended today (Jan 18 - Feb 22) and I figure I might as well do a little wrap up for it :’) 

Initially, I boldly stated that I was going to finish Ill Tidings and work more on From the Ashes. If any of you have been looking at my feed...that didn’t happen. This semester started with a bang and well...it’s been a constant knock down since. 

It reached the point where I physically could not write, let alone the jaunty fluff I had promised with fics like Ill Tidings. But we’re coming back from that. 

But instead of lamenting about what I didn’t finish, I might as well highlight what writing I did get done! 

--

1. Building Storm:  2892 words, scene rewrite of a Percy Jackson fanfic I wrote 8 years ago. I’m pleasantly surprised by this one. 

2. Long Awaited Reunions:  2555 words, commission piece for Lumielles 

3. Unsent Letters: 1129 words, prompt fill for LOTRO

4. What Happens On Coruscant: 700 words, kiss week piece 

5. Flowers: 500 words, kiss week piece 

6. Unanticipated: 600 words, kiss week piece 

7. Wild Nights: 900 words, kiss week piece 

8. Forbidden Kiss: 1500 words, prompt fill using original characters 

9. From the Ashes Ch 13: 434 words, still better than the months its sat untouched

10. Ill Tidings Ch 2: 1044 words, update TBD

[dayenurose]

I’ve been valiantly attempting to finish a few of my WIPs and the process has been slow. So, when the WIP-Project 2020 ( @the-wip-project​ ) announced their Super Fast WIP challenge, I thought it might give me the motivation I need to finish. So, here it is…

I realize the chapter count says I only have one chapter left and that sounds like it should be simple enough to complete….but this story kind of took on a life of its own when it came to writing it. The readers really seemed to connect with it and I connected to it and I just wanted to do the ending justice. Which became its own thing as well. (I think I kind of intimidated myself…).

Initially, it was suppose to be a 5 +1 (okay, 6+1) and I wanted the last chapter to show the ‘reward’ side of things. Anyways, it’s really become more of a 6+1+6 with the last six chapters paralleling the first six. I am so close to finishing this—if I just sat down and didn’t get distracted.

So, here I am attempting to finish writing the last bit over the next two weeks. And if I finish this one, I have another story which I’m nearly finished with that is in the queue.

Good luck to everyone participating!