#this sat in my WIP folder for over 2 years

[three-fold-symmetry]

Obi-Wan in the 2003 Clone Wars armour just hits different.

[jerzwriter]

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s this?” she asked.

“A cherry Coke. What else?”

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

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

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

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

“I know,” she whispered.

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

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

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

“Yo tambien te amo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are we, sixteen?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“... Ruby told you to.”

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Carolina,” Tommy muttered.

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

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

“I’m going to my room... alone!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I won’t,” Carolina’s voice cracked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Trystan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My Trystan,” she sobbed into her pillow. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesbookclub

Tagging separately.

Part Two: Trystan's POV

[buckera]

get to know your fic writer🖋️

I was tagged by the lovely @jesuisici33 thank you! 💛

When did you post your first ever fanfic?

the first ever fic I shared online was posted in 2008, the first ever fic I wrote in english was posted in 2018

(this question actually prompted me to check my old writing folder AND FUCK I found old stuff written for contests and ugh it's just so horrifying to 1) read something I wrote 15 years ago and 2) read anything in hungarian... it gives me the shivers, though I gotta say I was like a walking talking thesaurus wow)

First character(s) you wrote for:

the very very first that wasn't an OC was probably either jpop RPF or Reid from Criminal Minds

Main character(s) you’re currently writing for:

Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz all the way baby

Character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan on writing about soon:

I think I would definitely love to include Athena in more of my fics just because I love her so much 🥺

Fandom(s) you’re currently writing for:

911 and technically The Witcher (have a radskier fic just about 70% done, but I got sucked into the 911 vortex before I could've actually finished it lol)

Platonic pairing(s) you currently write for:

"currently" might not be accurate because I haven't actually done more than plan it BUT Josh and Buck bestfriendism is very dear to my heart and I'm definitely excited about writing it (the bitch potential is off the charts is what I'm saying)

Romantic pairing(s) you currently write for:

buddie

Your top 3 tags on AO3 (if you post your works on AO3):

to the surprise of absolutely no one: oral sex, angst, first time

Your current platform where you post your works:

ao3

Snippet of the wip you’re currently working on:

•☔️•

Despite what they agreed to, it has been over five minutes since they've sat down and the only sound between them was Christopher's fork scratching against the plate as he pushed pieces of pancakes from side to side on it.

“Hey, Chr–”

“I’m scared.” He cut Buck off without looking up from his food.

Buck hated himself for asking, but he told Chris that talking about it helped, so that's what he had to do. Help.

God, he wished Eddie was here, he was always better at dealing with stuff like this. Buck usually just… crumbled.

“What are you scared of?” He whispered, like if he didn't ask too loud then maybe the answer wouldn't feel like a scream either.

“That you won't find Dad.”

I have no idea who was already tagged, but here are some no pressure tags anyways mwuah: @forthewolves @eddiediaztho @callaplums @ladydorian05 @daffi-990 @disasterbuckdiaz

[maddiebiscuits]

i don't know how to phrase this any other way so i hope you don't find this rude or anything: you are (imo) a very skilled, very prolific art toaster. it's great quality artwork obviously, but your turnaround is wicked crazy fast to me. what does burnout look like for you? how do you manage to toast so many arts? what dark magics must you employ??

The hard truth is I worked in journalism for two years between 2010-2012 and customer service/hospitality starting at 16 years old in 2007 all throughout my life until 2022 and I don't want to go back to any of it now that I'm almost 33 - that's the main motivator to keep my freelance gig career doing art commissions going as long as possible. Fear and loathing of going back to that work environment keeps me focused.

In action...I'm not quite sure if I ever experience 'burn out'? I do experience art 'block' in that I can't think of anything to draw on my own or feel really unsatisfied with my work...so I just goof off with my canvas or do studies, but this doesn't interfere with doing commissions where I am told what to draw.

I just enjoy the physical act of drawing. Sometimes when I'm bored and restless and going for a walk doesn't help, I just draw more. When I was a kid I would just come home from school and draw crap between playing Gameboy/N64/Gamecube or browsing Elfwood/Newgrounds/DeviantART/Gaia Online, so it's literally just a habit now. If I don't draw for a long time I feel anxious and unwell. Somehow I just programmed my brain to think that art = leisure fun time, even if it's for work. I also tend to get into a "zone" sometimes and just put on video essays or music and a few hours later I'll have worked through some commission stuff.

I have three 'task lists' for my workflow:

A public trello board organized by work order types (N/SFW link)

A personal trello board organized by type/date in chronological order

A coloured tagging and folder system in my emails where I can just see the actual dates/timestamps of my last correspondence with a client so I know exactly who in my taskboard needs to be prioritized for their next WIP update

I hold myself to a standard of sending a client a WIP in stages:

rough draft (1-14 business days)

revisions (1-5 business days)

line art (1-14 business days)

revisions (1-5 business days)

final render (1-14 business days)

tweaks (1-2 business days)

So ideally, the client gets a finished commission in 3-6 weeks, so about 1-2 months. For larger projects I send more WIPs and the process is obviously longer. For simpler stuff like chibis, it's rarely a full six weeks. Over holidays I add an extra two weeks to my noted turn-around to account for IRL time off. On all my terms of service I have a maximum four months turn-around, essentially doubling the time I know my work flow is just in case there's some sort of medical or equipment emergency in my life that I need to account for that gives me a buffer (I also notify all clients)

Monday to Friday I wake up usually...late morning/early afternoon? I do anywhere from four to eight hours of artwork, broken up by walks, stretching, eating, cleaning, cooking, hanging out with my partner, etc. I look at my personal trello taskboard and emails to see what must be done and what can wait. I try to get at least 1-2 things done in a day though, be that sketches/line art/renders/revisions.

Right now I am looking at my email and task board, and the client with the highest wait time chronologically is someone who is waiting for their final render (sketch and line art already revised and done for them). Last email correspondence with them on the email says 9 days ago (so 7 business days, I'm supposed to take Sat-Sun off). Their order was paid in full and confirmed by me on November 9 and it is currently December 13, so I'm at about the 5 week mark (not accounting for delays in clients getting back to me of course) and I am very much On Course for my work load, no one has been without contact from me for 14 days or more so I'm pretty ahead of my game right now! I could take tomorrow off if I wanted, or only do 3-4 hours of work if I feel like it.

However the more work you finish and post, the more you show prospective clients your ability to finish orders and show your audience more art for engagement, so ideally I always like posting stuff when I can, it just creates a cycle of positive production and income.

[airenyah]

Current Tag Game

I was tagged by @telomeke and @lurkingteapot <3

Current Time:

23:14 as of me posting this

Current activity:

lying on my stomach in bed, typing out this ask game

Currently thinking about:

all the things i have to do for uni and also that one interpretation test i have on monday rip

Current favourite song:

listen. LISTEN. it is such a fun song, okay!! i love the vibes!! it just always puts me in a good mood, okay!!

Currently reading:

just a whooole bunch of stuff for uni. namely, italian articles on sustainable tourism for my interpretation test on monday (gotta familiarize myself with the lingo...) and some scientific literature on fansubbing for a paper i have to write on this topic this semester

Currently watching:

not a lot, i started my master's degree like a month ago and i haven't really started any new shows since

i've been trying to finish home school all summer and i'm still only on ep13 as of now rip (i might go watch another ep later, let's see how sleepy i am)

i also started watching bbs for the 23rd time a week ago! i'm doing a weekly anniversary rewatch and soooo tomorrow i get to watch ep2 hehe

oh and my mom sat me down in front of the kdrama andante the other day. we watched 3 or 4 episodes before i went back to the cursed city and so i'll be watching that over the next few weeks whenever i go back home

i might start another show at some point over the next week, idk. right now i'm trying not to get distracted bc of uni

Current favourite character:

pat napat jindapat has been living rent free in my head for the past two years now

Current WIP:

i think i have a bbs vs hidden agenda parallel gifset as well as a bbs vs only friends parallel gifset somewhere that i started in september and then just never finished???? idk. i'll have to go into my folders

plus, i started recording some thoughts on bbs and pat specifically for a meta that has been in my head for 2 whole years but never really posted. considering 24 months have passed and we all are still here i'm like... okay maybe posting it is worth it after all. so yeah, let's see if that will ever get written. it's not anything special, just some thoughts on my reading of pat and his awareness/obliviousness of his feelings. bc that differs from popular fandom interpretation

Tags:

uhhhh idk who's been tagged yet and who hasn't buuuut i'm just gonna say @newyearknwwme @killiru @visualtaehyun @moonkhao @cornflowershade

[janaedonim]

Meet My WIP: The Gen6 Series

Technically I've been working on this series since I was eight years old.

I saw Spy Kids 3D, the Barbie nutcracker movie, and combined those magical concepts with the idea that one day a strong and kind white boy would come save me from my very repressed life. Because all heroes were strong kind white boys in my 2004 brain.

I sat down at my little Rooms 2 Go desk and scribbled out a fantasy. Tragically, that single sheet of college-rule paper was ruined by a grape juice mishap. But I guess I was determined. I got out a new sheet of paper and started again.

Over the years I compiled tens of school folders and one raggedy accordion file folder's worth of scribbling about this world and these characters. Then I got a laptop and created tens of Microsoft word documents in the same vein.

I think the original concept was a group of friends led by a strong, murderous and deeply angry hero (gee I wonder where I got the inspo...) going on magical adventures. It was also about what they wore and who they dated because I was a rabid fan of The Clique series back in the day.

Lowkey fortunately for me, one day my old Vaio crashed and took with it the full un-backed-up first draft of Book 1.

I was crushed.

But again, I started over. I think that means this story really means something to me.

The series overall started to take shape after this. From my late teen years through my early twenties (and therapy) it became clear that the themes and character struggles sprang from my experience in a controlling, toxic community environment.

It's also definitely influenced by childhood favorites like Sky High, various weird christian media, The Chronicles of Narnia, Shark Boy and Lava Girl, and PJO. Also I've been inspired by all the Problems with HP and the creative solves by people in fandom (fuck jkr).

I really don’t know how to sum it all up, which probably doesn’t bode well for my writing career. I can write a novel, but to distill it all into a paragraph? Beyond me. 

I’ll try.

We’re following our main character, Cash Hamilton, as he and his (large) family are forced to settle in a small southern town. Supposedly, this is a place full of other people with magic. But it’s quickly revealed to be less than a paradise, and instead cult-like secret society for people with “Gifts”.

Photo by cottonbro studio

Over the series we follow Cash as he, his family, and friends rebel against the status quo. Every one of the characters in his group has their own destiny, but Cash has one that reaches farther than any of them could imagine.

As they work to free other Realms from the tyranny of human colonization, each character confronts struggles with discrimination, family, mental health, and becoming the person they want to be. 

There are also a LOT of magical worlds and creatures, extensive world-building, some romance subplots, and in my personal opinion some cool explorations of identity.

Sometime before 2021, I finally finished Draft 1 of Book 1. It’s currently titled “Silver: The First Rebellion”. Previously it was ‘The First Adventure’. 

The story introduces us to Cash, his family and his world. We follow them as they’re forced to flee to the above-mentioned sleepy southern town and he is confronted with the dark, discriminatory underbelly of the ‘Gifted’ community. A vast network of magical communities living alongside the regular world and deeply embedded into every aspect of culture and government. 

But in this world, Cash and his siblings are abominations. His parents are outlaws. And every moment in their new world is marred by discrimination, unfair treatment, and outright cruelty. Luckily, he meets a diverse cast of characters that are also dissatisfied with the world they live in. 

They band together when confronted with the horror of one of the new friends, Janina, being hunted by the government. The adults want to wait and assume they’re safe. But Cash wants to take action.

Must be time to illegally break into a magical world, right? Oh, also, that girl you’re dating? Yeah something weird is about to happen with that.

Each book in the series follows Cash’s arc in his destiny, the destiny of one of his friends, and the struggle to liberate their world.

There’s so much I want to embrace in this series. Like how magical your small town upbringing can feel right next to how horrific it is to experience microaggressions every single day. The hopelessness of having no control of your world as a kid, how you rebel in small ways and big ways.

The series overall is about Cash’s search for his place in this world that is supposed to be where he belongs but where he is continually rejected. I hope to reach YA readers with the message that no one can tell you who you are. You don’t deserve to be treated poorly, especially by the people in charge of your well-being. You are loved and you can make it through anything. You belong. There’s nothing wrong with who you are.

Also, racism bad, gay good.

Where I’m at Now:

I’m currently at the chapter 17 mark in a self edit, and also going back to earlier chapters to change the format of specific scenes based on some feedback from my writing group.

I plan to finish my self edit and then look for beta readers.

After taking in that feedback I really want to save up for a developmental edit because I think I get lost in characters sometimes and have issues with plot.

I’ve finished the first draft of a Book 2 and half a first draft of Book 3. I want to hold onto those until I have a more developed idea of every major event in the series so I can make sure things add up. I also want to make sure every main part of the series is more fully developed before I keep writing.

Writing a series is a beast I have no idea how to tame, so I’m looking for any advice on managing, writing and publishing a series. 

Next up, meet the characters of the Gen6 series!

Also, is there anything else you want to know about Gen6?

Book Two Inspo Board

Whole Series Inspo/Visualization Board

Gen6 Playlist

[cheesybadgers]

Narcos Fic: Trigonometry (Part 1: Sine)

Part 2, Part 3  -  Masterlist  -  Read on AO3

All In Universe Masterlist

Pairing: Horacio Carrillo x Steve Murphy x Javier Peña 

(Parts 1 and 2 focus on Carrillo/Murphy, but part 3 will be Carrillo/Murphy/Peña)

Words: 3,708

Summary: Set in the aftermath of All In, the trio have largely been avoiding each other. However, when Peña doesn’t show up for work and no one knows where he is, Murphy and Carrillo are forced to put their differences to one side, but soon discover they have more in common than they’re prepared to admit.  

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Canon-typical violence, knife play, weapons kink, power dynamics, lashings of sexual tension, descriptions of a past threesome and masturbation, a hint of praise kink, jealousy, mild angst, swearing, smoking, drinking. 

Notes: So, a version of this fic has been sat in my WIP folder pretty much since I finished All In over a year ago, but it got put on the backburner when OHDH took over my life lol (I haven’t forgotten about that fic btw! I’m hoping to update sooner rather than later...it’s just a lot of work). But then I recently had pangs to re-visit this and, erm, one thing led to another 😂 It’s three parts and the second part is almost finished, so that should be posted soon! 

I also feel like I should say now I’m a sucker for Steve in his hot mess era, and I’m also a sucker for his and Carrillo’s jealous frenemies dynamic as they fight over Javi, so those vibes are very much present here 😉 

Whilst obviously I do not own Narcos or its characters, please do not copy, re-post, or plagiarize this fic in any capacity on this or other platforms. If you wish to create any fan works inspired by it, please provide a credit or send me a message if in doubt.

Part 1: Sine

It wasn’t unlike Javi to go off-grid for hours at a time, preferring to ignore his pager if he had something – or someone - better to be doing. And in his defence, it was barely 10am; still early by his standards, so Steve poured himself another coffee and resumed scanning through the files piled on his desk.

Even as lunchtime approached, he was only mildly curious to know Javi’s whereabouts. Maybe Messina had sent him off to scope out a new CI. He was always so cloak-and-dagger; it wouldn’t have been out of character for him to sneak off without saying a word.

It was a thought that caused Steve’s stomach to swoop given what Javi tended to get up to with his informants, even though he didn’t have much right to feel that way. Sure, they had their new arrangement, but it wasn’t as though it was exclusive. It wasn’t as though it had happened again since that night in Carrillo’s office. And in the bathroom immediately afterwards, obviously.

In fact, the three of them had been avoiding each other as much as possible. Conversations were kept brief and strictly work-related, but Steve couldn’t quite put his finger on how to describe the cloud of tension that still enveloped them. Awkward, yes, but not quite regretful. It was more like an unspoken question that none of them was prepared to ask out loud. But occasionally, a look would pass between them when no one else was around. A look which, if they were honest, probably gave them the answer they needed, but no sooner had it appeared than it was gone again.

And then there were the flashbacks. Steve may have strutted away in the aftermath like the cat that got the cream, but a stiff drink or several was required when he made it back to his apartment and into the shower. And there was no escape even once under the white noise of the faucet.

He closed his eyes to rinse the shampoo from his hair, his fingers gliding through each soapy strand until they weren’t his fingers anymore. They were Carrillo’s gripping and tugging as he fucked Steve’s mouth with abandon. A groan echoed off the tiles as he tried to ignore the demanding twitch of his cock. But it only reminded him of how he reacted to the delicious warmth of Javi’s tongue swiping up and down his length, catching beads of precum on its journey.

Even once he gave in and took himself in hand, he was back in Carrillo's office getting off on watching them together. Or watching Javi’s face twist in pleasure through the bathroom mirror whilst vigorously ploughing into him. The rhythmic slapping of skin on skin, the strangled moans and the overpowering scent of sweat and semen filling his senses. The intoxicating thrill of Javi being orbited by him and Carrillo as they pushed and pulled, snarled and grunted to vie for his attention. Neither quite prepared to relinquish the perceived control they had over the situation, even if it was more of a fallacy than they cared to admit. It was no wonder he came for the third time that night, despite there barely being anything left for his body to release.

As the clock on the wall above his desk approached 2pm, Steve noted he hadn’t seen Carrillo anywhere all day either. There was that swooping sensation again, only this time, it dug deeper into his gut, twisting keenly like a knife as various scenarios swam through his mind.

He tried to reason with himself that even if any of them were the truth, it was nothing the two of them hadn’t already been doing for months (or years?) before he was involved. And they were perfectly entitled to do that without inviting him or seeking his permission. It wasn't like he hadn’t indulged with Javi in the absence of Carrillo, so there was no getting around the fact he was being a giant fucking hypocrite.

Still, his curiosity had the habit of getting the better of him, which was why he was striding down the corridor towards Carrillo’s office before he could stop himself.

Fuck knows what he was expecting to find in the middle of the day when anyone could have walked in on them if his suspicions had been right. And yet the reality still caught him off guard as he threw open the door.

“Don’t you ever knock, Murphy?” Carrillo looked up with a face like thunder from the vast array of reports, maps and files scattered across his desk.

Steve glossed over Carrillo as if he was just a minor footnote and scanned around the room, darting to the space behind the door and underneath the desk.

“Looking for something? Or someone?” The disdain dripped off Carrillo's words as he pushed his chair back to stand up, leaning forwards across the desk, his robust arms bearing the brunt of his weight.

Steve scoffed as he moved closer, placing his own arms on the other side of the desk and mimicking Carrillo’s stance in return. Because he was just feeling that fucking petty, apparently.

“If you must know, Javi didn’t show up for work today. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” His voice rumbled low and deep as he showed no respect for Carrillo’s space, the sharp scent of tobacco circling the two of them now that they were in close proximity.

“Why would I? I’m not his keeper. And you’re the one who lives in the same building as him. Shouldn’t you know where your own partner is?”

“Surely you of all people know Javi’s not the type to be kept by anyone. But he should’ve checked in by now.”

“Well, I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen much of him since…” Since we were all in this very room together with the blinds drawn and the door locked was what Carrillo couldn’t bring himself to say. It was one thing to have let it happen here in the first place; it was quite another to talk about it in the cold light of day.

He glanced at the chair Steve had pushed to one side when he’d begun this hostile act of provocation. The chair that Steve had sat in whilst being serviced by Javi and whilst servicing him.

His eyes flickered over Steve's features for a second before clearing his throat and drawing a line under that dangerous train of thought. “Have you tried Messina?”

“Not yet. I wanted to ask around first before raising the alarm. If - if something has happened, sending an overblown rescue mission courtesy of Uncle Sam might scare someone into doing something stupid.”

Steve could hardly believe what was coming out of his mouth. To talk in such extreme terms when it could all be for nothing felt like a betrayal. But these were volatile times in Colombia. And although American federal agents enjoyed certain privileges not available to local law enforcement, anything was possible.

Carrillo was quiet for a moment, his jaw rigid until he nodded, mildly irritated to find Steve's reasoning sound. “Makes sense. I’ll speak to some of my men, see if they’ve heard anything on the ground. Come find me if he hasn’t shown up by 5.”

Part of Steve wanted to argue that they should be out there looking for him now, not sat twiddling their thumbs for a few hours on the off-chance Javi might saunter through the door. But the more objective part of him knew Carrillo was right. No matter his personal feelings towards the man – and there was a giant question mark over what those actually were – he knew his tactical judgement was solid.

So instead, he nodded, their gaze heavy on each other in an unspoken truce that they would have to trust each other on this one.

------------------------------------------------------

After a torturous afternoon in which Steve could barely concentrate on anything, 5pm came and went with no sign of Javi. Messina had been asking questions, and he managed to fob her off with a vague cover story involving an informant, for now at least.

He steeled himself for another encounter with Carrillo, this time knocking and figuring he would at least try to be the bigger person given the circumstances.

Upon opening the door, he was unnerved to find Carrillo sitting at his desk with an ashtray full of cigarettes in front of him. There was a glass of whiskey in one hand whilst the fingers on his other pinched and massaged the bridge of his nose.

“Still no sign of him. I asked around the other departments – discreetly - and no one’s heard anything either,” Steve reported as he closed the door behind him.

“Neither have my men. Nothing from our usual contacts, nothing from the brothels or his favourite bars.”

“So, now what?”

Carrillo downed the remnants of his drink and picked up a half-finished cigarette from the ashtray before he spoke again. “Now, we do things my way.”

“Your way, huh?”

“Yes. Think you can handle it?”

If Steve didn’t know any better, he would say Carrillo was eyeing him with the same look he’d shot at him that night. There was no doubting it was a challenge.

Steve laughed and shook his head at the same time. He leaned down to Carrillo, close enough to smell the whiskey on his breath. “You already know I can, and one day, you’re gonna have to just accept it.”

Before he even thought about what he was doing, he took the cigarette from Carrillo’s fingers, making a show of clamping his lips around the tip in the exact spot where Carrillo’s own had just been. His exhale was slow and deliberate, causing wisps of smoke to ghost across Carrillo’s face.

Carrillo gave no response, but his stoicism was betrayed by the brief bobbing of his Adam's apple as he swallowed thickly.

The faintest trace of a smirk danced over Steve’s face at his brazen antics having the desired effect. He reached for the ashtray to stub out the cigarette, a familiar darkness flashing across the steel blue of his pupils. “Where do we start?”

------------------------------------------------------

They waited until the sun had set over Medellín, allowing them to move unseen amongst the shadows of the deserted side streets. Carrillo knew the comunas like the back of his hand, but even he couldn’t ignore the vulnerability of the leader of Search Bloc venturing out with his only backup being a DEA agent who stuck out like a sore thumb. A DEA agent who looked to him for answers he wasn’t confident they would get tonight, although he couldn’t bring himself to admit that to Murphy.

The leads they had were tenuous at best. His men weren’t pushovers, so if no one had confessed anything already, he doubted they would now. But he had to do something. Anything to distract himself from thinking the worst.

It was why he didn’t feel remorse when he yanked back the head of a low-level sicario they’d picked up downtown, pressing the muzzle of his gun into the dimple of the man’s chin.

Nor did he regret pulling the knife out of his back pocket and flicking it open millimetres from the second sicario’s face before scoring the blade across his jugular and issuing quiet threats to his ear.

Neither man gave them anything useful, but it had taken the edge off, even if just for a while, and it was worth a shot.

So far, Steve had remained passive but curious, watching Carrillo closer than ever. In the past, he hadn’t stuck around long enough to witness Carrillo in full flow, but this time he couldn’t drag his eyes away. It was disturbing yet mesmerising, horrifying yet alluring in a fucked-up way that he didn’t fully understand and was quite sure he didn’t want to, either.

By the fifth person they accosted, Steve took the lead, seizing him by the throat and squeezing with one hand. He jabbed the tip of his gun into the sicario’s forehead with such force it branded a perfect circle on his skin.

“Yo soy tu patrón. ¿Sí?” Steve asked again and again. He continued until his victim was a nodding, whimpering wreck who soon scarpered once he gathered himself up off the floor where Steve had thrown him.

Now it was Carrillo’s turn to be enthralled. His pupils dilated from watching Steve’s wild gaze pop against the half-light of the alleyway as his grip tightened around the man’s throat and his gun. He’d never seen Steve handle a gun like this, and Carrillo realised it wasn’t dissimilar to how he wielded his knife.

He was even mildly impressed Steve had the balls to threaten someone in Spanish, rather than get him to do the dirty work. He had heard stories from Javier and caught glimpses of it now and then, but he had never witnessed Steve so ruthless.

He understood, though. They both had a shared interest in this. They both had more to lose than they wanted to admit. And they were no closer to finding him. A fact that Carrillo was rapidly losing patience with, and he knew the perfect person to take out his frustrations on.

“What the fuck was that?” Carrillo finally spoke, his tone scathing.

“Oh, I get it. It’s okay when you do it, but not me?”

“I meant the choking. How do you expect him to talk if you cut off his air supply?”

“Oh, come on, he knew jack shit anyway. This was a fuckin’ waste of time! I thought you said you had a plan?”

“I thought you gringos always came to the rescue. Isn’t that why you’re here? So we can all bow down to what hot shit you are?” Carrillo had had enough of this and reached for his lighter and a fresh cigarette from his pocket.

However, before he could ignite it, he felt a heavy weight on his chest as he was thrown back against the wall behind him.

During moments like this, Steve’s height advantage came into its own. He towered over Carrillo, effectively pinning him in place with one hand fisted in his shirt and the other braced on the brick beside his head.

A charged silence hung between them, only their laboured breathing reverberating off the wall as they stared each other down, foreheads almost touching. Their chests rose and fell in unison, each exhale reducing the gap between them whilst increasing their shared body heat.

Carrillo carried more muscle, but Steve was surprisingly strong and made light work of caging Carrillo in like this. Compressing whatever tension they had let loose into such a small space, it was liable to explode at any minute.

“In case you needed reminding, one of those gringos is Javi. And I’ve already lost one partner, I ain’t losin’ another.” Steve’s voice was barely more than a hiss out of the side of his mouth as he pressed his weight harder against Carrillo to emphasise his point.

Despite being outdoors, the atmosphere was oppressive, and Carrillo needed space to get some air. He used the extra momentum from Steve to propel himself forwards, one hand clutching the front of Steve’s shirt, the other reaching into his own back pocket.

Before Steve knew what was happening, they had switched places, his head roughly making contact with the wall. He grunted as though the wind had been knocked out of him, barely having time to adjust when he caught a glint of light in his peripheral vision.

Carrillo’s right elbow was now pinned just below Steve’s left shoulder, and he held his knife a few millimetres away from Steve’s throat.

“You think losing one partner is bad? Try losing a dozen. And they didn’t have the protection you have despite this being their country. So, I’d tread very carefully if I were you, Murphy.” Carrillo spat his words against the shell of Steve’s ear, his elbow crushing against its target until he heard a wince.

It hit a raw nerve for both of them and went part way to explaining why they had gone off the deep end over Javi. Steve more so than Carrillo, because Carrillo had been here too many times before.

“And in case you needed reminding, I’ve known Peña a lot longer than you have, so spare me the sermon,” Carrillo continued after Steve had let him have that one unchallenged.

He was on the cusp of saying he knew Javier better too but caught himself just in time. Because he didn’t even know if that was true anymore, and that was a thought he wasn’t prepared to examine just yet.

For a long moment, they remained locked in a stand-off, neither wanting to be the first to break eye contact or back down. Carrillo’s hands were as steady as a rock whilst Steve struggled to keep the tremors out of his breaths. His throat was dry, and his palms were sweaty, one clenched in a fist by his side and the other still inexplicably grasping at Carrillo’s shirt.

Carrillo’s charcoal irises stormed in their dimly lit surroundings, and Steve had seen that look before: when Carrillo discovered Steve and Javi outside the bathroom that night.

Despite how dicey his current position was, Steve couldn’t stop the smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “And yet you couldn’t keep him satisfied.”

No sooner had Steve spoken than he felt a sharp, ice-cold pressure at the base of his throat. It wasn’t remotely enough to break the skin, but the fact one false move from either of them could swiftly change that was almost enough to trigger Steve’s fight-or-flight response.

He concentrated on keeping stock still, willing his heart rate to even out and trying to aggressively ignore whatever the hell was going on in his jeans.

“If you’re not careful, that big mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble again, Murphy.” Carrillo’s low rasp dripped like venom fused with honey as he lightly dragged the blade across Steve’s skin.

Steve had hit another sore point, it seemed. Carrillo should have seen it coming that night once Peña went after Murphy. He never did ask about the logistics of what went on between them, but having now seen Murphy in a new light, he could hazard a guess.

He wasn’t naïve enough to think Peña had never been with other men; however, it still rankled regardless, even when it shouldn’t. But he meant what he said in the corridor as well. He wanted to see Peña’s face when he was fucking or being fucked by someone else. He wanted to know exactly what it was Murphy could give Peña that he couldn’t. And if he was honest, part of him wanted to put Murphy in his place once and for all. But their current situation was a start, at least.

Just one swipe from left to right across his neck was all it took to elicit a half-gasp, half-groan from Steve. His body visibly trembled, and his fist scooped up more of Carrillo’s shirt to tether himself. As soon as the sound escaped his lips, he regretted it, knowing Carrillo now had him exactly where he wanted him. And he couldn’t be having that.

“Is that a promise or a threat?” A retort that would have hit closer to its mark if Steve wasn’t practically panting, confirming in an instant what Carrillo had suspected all evening about the blue-eyed all-American boy’s darkest desires.

The fine edge of the knife grazed feather-light back and forth and up and down with precision, Carrillo expertly applying the perfect amount of force so as not to go too far.

He brought the blade up to Steve’s cheek and traced the flat surface of it delicately along his bottom lip. “Whichever shuts you up quickest.”

Carrillo held the knife still in place and pressed it ever so slightly until Steve took the hint and parted his mouth.

Steve’s lips subtly caressed the weapon as though he was hypnotised, following Carrillo’s instructions without blinking or hesitating.

“Good boy.” The words of affirmation had barely left Carrillo’s throat when he felt their immediate effect throbbing against him where their bodies connected. Of course. Given how much Steve had desperately craved Carrillo’s approval ever since he arrived in Colombia, it was hardly a surprise, and Carrillo filed that one away for the time being.

With every challenge each man laid down, the other immediately picked up the gauntlet and escalated it further. A twisted game of one-upmanship that they would never admit they were playing with each other, but one they couldn’t resist.

Carrillo caught a flash of tongue swiping along the blade and had to swallow a groan. He supposed he deserved that after his last manoeuvre. His own lips were now only a hair’s breadth from the knife, the scent of faded aftershave and cigarettes engulfing their senses as they stood on the precipice of something unfathomable, addictive and dangerous.

But then, without warning, Carrillo abruptly withdrew as though he’d been scalded, snapping the blade of his knife shut and backing away from Steve. A moment of sobering clarity that they had gone too far and had more pressing matters to deal with.

“We’re done here. We’ll head back to Bogotá and try his apartment just in case there’s anything we’re missing.” Carrillo’s orders were delivered as though he was leading a run-of-the-mill field op, and whatever the two of them had been a party to was over as quickly as it started.

The mention of Javi’s apartment also flicked a switch in Steve’s brain, his gut lurching at the memory of why they were here in the first place.

He cleared his throat and tried to regain some composure, although his limbs felt boneless, and his pulse raced in his ears. “Er right, yeah. Sure. Sounds like a plan.”

They didn’t have time for this, whatever the fuck this even was. A question they were both more than happy to leave to one side as they exited the alley and made their way back to Carlos Holguín in awkward silence.

[firefly-in-darkness]

Separation, Connection - [1/2]

Pairing →Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters → Marvel Characters

Summary → Your friendship with Bucky deterioates when you catch him in a compromising position with a fellow agent.

Word Count → 2.3k

SSB2021 Square Fill → “God I hate you” - @star-spangled-bingo

AFG Square Fill  → “What the fuck am I seeing?” @anyfandomgoesbingo

Warnings → 18+. Angst, Heartbreak, Jealousy, Swearing

Betas → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This one was sitting in my WIPs folder for ages, and after brainstorming with @writethelifeyouwant, this 2 parter was finished! Ps. I know I haven’t updated Worst Idea Ever in a while and I’m sorry - I’m just very stuck with it atm, the plot and majority of the story is planned out, I just can’t seem to fill in the blanks.

Firefly’s Masterlist

You and Bucky were close, and there was that little thin line between friendship and something more. Nothing had happened but, god, you had wanted it to. The secret crush you harboured for your teammate, your friend, had only grown over the years. Everyone thought you would be good together, commenting on how well you got along, that friendship was an important part of a relationship. Both of you rolling your eyes and laughing at their comments.

When you finally gathered the courage to tell him how you felt, you saw him with someone else. They were at the back of the training facility; the team were in a simulation of a terrorist attack on Paris and once the time on the training session was called, you stumbled across them.

They were just out of sight, hidden in a dark corner. And it wasn’t just a casual embrace. They were having sex, he was fucking her, hard, up against a wall. You froze at the sight of his bare bottom clenching with each thrust and the blissed-out look on her face. What the fuck am I seeing?! Heart shattered, you fled from the room without a sound, not wanting to disturb them or for anyone to see you crying.

It hurt too much to be as close to him after that, you consciously decided to withdraw from the friendship. Not going straight to him when entering a room or staying in bed instead of heading to the rooftop where you’d usually wander at five in the morning to talk with Bucky, putting the world to right.

And of course, Bucky noticed. It had been a week since you had joined him for a midnight chat in the kitchen. He was missing his best friend. He wanted to share his life with her, and she was nowhere to be seen unless someone else was in the room. 

Bucky knew it was a bad sign when you chose to sit next to Wanda, not sandwiched between him and Nat, on movie night. He felt alone in a room full of friends, as they watched a film about a love triangle set in England. It was supposed to be funny, but Bucky didn’t hear the jokes, let alone the punchlines. 

Nat had realised something was wrong too. She saw the dark circles under your eyes when you drained the coffee from the cup in the morning and the puffy redness from crying in the middle of the day. She had detested the way you and Bucky were before, it was like a pair of magnets drawn together, a connected ribbon, a gravitational pull. But now? Well, you were repelling within a few meters of one another, and she hated that even more.

“What did you do, Barnes?” Nat whispered harshly, eyes still on the film.

“Nothing.” Bucky looked over to you, sleeping with your head resting on Wanda’s lap.

“So why is Wanda looking at you like that?” She raised an eyebrow.

Bucky lifted his gaze, saw the fiery red eyes staring back at him as she stroked your hair, a soft red mist falling over you. He frowned at the Sokovian and tried to talk telepathically but she shook her head and looked back at the television.

On autopilot, you ran from your room to his bedroom door, knocking until the screams died down. Long ago, you’d learnt to not enter the room until he’d settled down, had the bruises to your neck and dealt with the guilt-ridden expression on Bucky’s face for weeks.

Pressing your ear to the door, you could hear Bucky moving about and slowly pushed it open so as not to startle him. A soft glow from the lamp at his bedside welcomed you in, he'd stacked his pillows against the headboard with his knees drawn up and resting his head in his hands.

“Hi, Buck. It’s me.” You spoke softly, his head and eyes shot up to meet yours.

You walked over and sat at the end of the bed, averting your eyes to the floor and fingers fiddling with the edge of a blanket, waiting for him to respond.

“What did I do doll?” He croaked, fingers running through his hair, his knees dropping down.

Your heart raced and you were certain he could hear the harsh thumps, but your voice remained steady, “It's nothing, just need a little time to process some things.”

“You normally come to me. What's different?” His voice was strained, thick with distress.

Standing up, you walked towards the window, arms wrapped tightly around your torso. You could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face, but you remained focused on the navy sky fading to blues and oranges with the sunrise.

“I can't this time Buck, I need space. I need space from you.” With each word, your heart fractured along the lines you’d attempted to piece together with being away from him.

“Get out then, just leave me alone.” His tone was now harsh, stronger than before.

“God, I hate you.” Without a final glance, you left the room. Your heart in tatters once more.

Once in the safety of your room, the sob heaved out of you. Bucky had disregarded you so easily, he let you go without a second thought. And you didn’t know what was worse; what you saw a week ago or what he just said.

Bucky finished his 76th lap when someone caught his eye. It was you. His best friend. The one he stupidly let go of. It had been three months since he'd told you to leave, and you hadn't gone back on his word.

Of course, Bucky was just as stubborn and hadn't approached you unless it was work-related. But there was something different about you. His eyes focused on the man you were standing with, and how you glowed, and Bucky just couldn't stand that you were feeling that way about a random recruit and not him.

“She used to look at you that way.” Wanda’s voice echoed in his head.

He scanned the field and found her figure leaning against a tree, shading herself from the summer sun and a book in hand. Bucky grabbed the small towel and wiped away the sweat, swigging his water bottle, then joined her on the grass.

“What are you talking about? She’s never looked at me like that.” He gestured towards you and the agent.

Wanda chuckled and shook her head, “You're not blind, or stupid, Bucky, she adored you. Still does, even though I wish she would get over you.”

His brow creased. “She wanted space, ended our friendship.” 

Wanda’s eyes flashed red, “And you broke her heart.” 

“Show me.” Bucky held out his hand, pleading with her, “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“I can’t Bucky. It's private, she would never forgive me.” Wanda shook her head and placed her book in her lap, “I've seen what she's done to you, I'm not going to lose her too.”

Bucky sprang to his feet and kicked at the grass. “Then just tell me what you know. Just something?” He turned to face you, hands on his hips as he tried to think of what he’d done.

“Paris terrorist simulation,” Wanda stated without emotion.

Bucky turned around, seeing nothing but a neutral expression on her face. The simulation had been a success, the whole team had done well but he hadn’t seen you at the debriefing. Steve said you were exhausted and needed to rest. 

“What about it?” asked Bucky.

“Don't deny it. I saw it, I felt it. She had no chance of blocking me from that pain.” Wanda stood up, eyes flickering red, “you and that agent. I thought you were better than that Bucky.”

“Shit.” 

Bucky knew exactly what Wanda had meant before she explained. Shame coursed through him; he'd broken your trust by not telling you about the agent he’d been hooking up with. Honestly, he didn't want you to know, didn't want you to judge him for the flings he had. Subconsciously, he knew that was what your distancing was about because he hadn't seen her again or hooked up with anyone since.

All he wanted was you back in his life; he was going to make it happen.

Wanda smirked, shaking her head before walking ahead of him, “Best get a move on Barnes, she’s not thinking of him in a platonic way.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he strutted towards you, determined to get you back.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder and he could only hope you still felt the same way.

You couldn’t believe Bucky dared to pull rank on you in front of another agent. That he had the gall to do such a thing after he told you to leave him alone, how he betrayed your trust as a friend and unknowingly broke your heart.

You stormed down the blurry corridors as anger took the form of tears. Your whole body tense and determined to get away from the assassin on your tail. People parted like the sea as they saw your strut and scowl, you scoffed at their reaction and thought, this must be what it’s like to be Bucky on a mission. Using it to your advantage, you managed to pull someone by the arm and into the path of the Winter Soldier.

While you sprinted away, you glanced back and spotted Bucky helping the woman to her feet, apologising profusely and then realising it was the agent you had caught him with. Your blood boiled as you pushed through the door to the stairwell, it slammed against the wall and probably damaged it, but you didn’t care anymore.

It wasn’t until the breeze hit your face that you realised where you were. You’d come to the rooftop, the exact spot that you’d air all your worries with Bucky. It was the place you’d first bonded outside of the team. 

A hand dragged down your face and your shoulders slumped. You spun on your heel, ready to escape when you stopped short. There he was, blocking the doorway. You groaned, of course, he knew exactly where you’d go even before you did.

“I just want to talk.” Bucky quietly spoke, a hint of a question in his tone but a statement all the same.

“I’ll scale down the side of this building if I have to.” You stepped back towards the edge.

Bucky growled and walked towards you, “would you quit being so stubborn and dramatic for one second?”

“Just leave me alone.” You threw his own words back at him, stopping him in his tracks.

At that moment, you could see that Bucky realised how hurtful those words were, but you weren’t going to console him anytime soon. He should suffer for how he spoke to you and for never attempting to speak to you until now.

Bucky slowly circled you towards the edge, his eyes focused on you while you turned in tandem following his moves. He reached the railing then settled down into a seated position, legs hanging over the side, his chest against the metal pole.

“Are you going to join me?” Bucky’s gaze now on the horizon.

With a roll of your eyes, you sat beside him, but at least a metre apart, you couldn’t get that close to him. He was too intoxicating, and your emotions were incredibly high, even if they were full of anger and hurt, and you didn’t trust yourself not to succumb to his charm.

“Are you going to talk then?” You sassed back at him.

“I’m sorry for what you saw. You shouldn’t have seen that.” Bucky didn’t hold back, “I was going to tell you, I just thought you’d judge me.”

“I’d judge you. For sleeping with a colleague. In the middle of a training simulation?” You scoffed, “You didn’t tell me about her. Or anyone else for that matter. Natasha filled me in on all your little late night rendezvous when I was on missions.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Bucky knew he’d not win this conversation and scrambled to bring it back onto his side, “you were away, and I needed something, someone.”

“So, you used them and used me too?” You glared at him.

“That’s not what I said,” Bucky seethed, annoyed at the way you were twisting his words but not surprised with the pain you felt. 

You continued, ignoring his comment, unable to stop the words falling from your lips, “I gave you emotional support. Watched you cry yourself to sleep after a nightmare, held your hand when you had a panic attack during a mission.” You shook your head at him, “I just wasn’t good enough for the sex part.”

Bucky held your chin and pulled your face to look at him, “You mean more to me than that. I just didn’t know how you felt. If I’d had known-”

You jerked away from his touch, it felt too nice, it felt like home, but you weren’t ready to fall back into this friendship. He knew how you felt, and you weren’t ready for his rejection. You still needed your space.

Swiftly, you returned to your feet, brushing down your trousers and hands, “Thank you for your apology, but I can’t forgive you.”

Bucky stood up and watched you begin to leave, “I’ll do my best to make you see how much you mean to me.”

You paused in the doorway, but you had to be strong, to carry on walking away, you couldn’t let him hurt you again. It was time to move on.

Continue Here...

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7 / @fandomfic-galore / @writerwrites / @thefridgeismybestie / @wedonttalkaboutitenough / @courtneychicken / @persephonesinfernos / @miraclesoflove

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers / @little-baby-vixen / @stuckonjbbarnes / @starlightcrystalline / @nekoannie-chan / @hailhydra920 / @vollzeitliebe / @fitzsimmons-is-forever / @ladyacrasia / @emmabarnes / @selfsun

strike through - unable to tag.

[verfound]

WIP Tag Asks?  Oh dear.  😬

A-hem.  @nerdypanda3126 is mean and knows exactly what she’s doing she has seen the Hoard y’all.  It’s been a hot minute since I did that Festering Folder WIP Wednesday, and the Hoard has not shrunk at all.  There’s a reason I’m the WIP Dragon.  😬

Anyway.  😂  Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips. (You can make your own post or reblog this one!)  I have deemed that this isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? Dnd campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!!  (I am only doing the MLB ones, since that’s the fandom I’m mostly writing these days and the list will be over 500 long if I include all the fandoms.  😂)

and I...am putting this under a cut bc apparently the list is five pages long...   😬  Also, Quick had a great idea: the tag WIP Wednesday: Festering Folder Edition talks about some of these, if you want to go for something new/I haven’t discussed yet.  🖤

·     All Our Broken Pieces

·     Alya Césaire is Just Trying to Help

·     And by the End of this Fic, We’ll be More than Just Friends

·     And You Thought the Bathtub was Good

·     Angsty Little Gremlin Baby

·     At the End of the Aisle

·     Banana Bread

·     Before I Say Goodnight

·     BlackBoard Blunders

·     Boat Life Not Gimmick

·     Booty Call

·     Bread Brothers

·     Breakup Songs

·     Burrow Down

·     Card Captor Sakura AU

·     Community Service

·     Coffee Shop Soundtrack

·     Coyling

·     Crayonarchy

·     Dammit AC

·     Dead Girls Tell No Tales

·     Dead Like Me AU

·     Evening Officer

·     Family Dessert

·     Fu’s Florals

·     Fun with Arts and Crafts

·     Futuresee

·     Give a Mergirl a Starfish

·     Guardian Stone

·     Haaave You Met Mari

·     Here in this Diary

·     Hey Let’s Do a Singalong

·     Hey Sicky

·     His Most Prized Possession

·     I Didn’t Expect to See You Here

·     I Didn’t Run

·     I Guess I Live Here Now

·     I Need Nipples

·     I Stand Alone

·     I Think I’ll Call Her Fang

·     If This is a Rom Com

·     It Ain’t Made of Kevlar

·     Jagged Loves Jagged

·     Julie & the Phantoms Untitled Crossover

·     Just Your Avg Sat

·     Karma Chameleon

·     LBSC SA 2022 – Dropout

·     Legally Blonde AU

·     Let’s Smoosh Faces

·     Luka Streaks On

·     Making it Work

·     MegaMind AU

·     Missed Point

·     Octothorpe JAG

·     Off Me Ship

·     Oh You’re Vocal

·     One More Time with You

·     Opportunity Presents Itself

·     Ordered Chaos

·     Our FirstFirstFirst Date

·     Pandora’s Box

·     Pants Aren’t RocknRoll

·     Paper Notes

·     Park Bench

·     Pink Fish Blue Fish

·     Please Come to Boston

·     Princess Heartmaker

·     Reality Jagged

·     Remembering You

·     See You at Gate 52

·     Sexy Guitar Guy p2

·     Snapshots of Us

·     Some People Say Hi

·     Soultember – Welcome to the Gray

·     Spinnerette

·     Suitcase Pancakes

·     That Agreste Guy was HM

·     The Couffaines’ Little Suicide Machines

·     The Girl with Flowers in Her Bones

·     The Quarantine Kwami Baking Championship

·     The Storm Rages On

·     The Tip Goes In

·     The Unexpected Roommate

·     They Know Where to Find Me

·     This is My Angry Face

·     Unsolicited Advice

·     Untitled 2-9; 11 (Selkie AU); 12-16; 17 (TS Baking Meet Cute)

·     Voodoo Viperion

·     We’re a Chance Left Untaken

·     When the Clock Strikes 13

·     Weight of it All

·     You’re Doll’s Haunted

 House Band:

·     A Harmonious Christmas

·     A Kick in the Head p2

·     Anyone Ever Told You

·     Barnyard in D

·     Can I Help

·     Dance Little Sister

·     Darnin Can You Hear Me SOS

·     Dear Old Gertie

·     Dewey’s Diet

·     Every Third Year

·     Favorite Mugs

·     Harold the Glitter Cow

·     I Already Said Goodbye

·     I’m a Unicorn

·     Kicking Things Off

·     Letting Go

·     Maman’s Day Surprise

·     Maman’s First Maman’s Day

·     Maman’s Night Out

·     Melody Super Spy

·     Papas Don’t Get Sick Days

·     Papa’s Ink

·     Piggy Sue

·     Pocket Pals

·     Sing 2 Death AU

·     Squeaks

·     Surround Sound

·     Take It Off

·     The baby Swing

·     The Cookie Principle

·     The Sexiest What Now

·     They were Supposed to be

 Dingo Files:

·     5 Things Luka Regrets Telling Dingo

·     ABBA Doesn’t Shred

·     Adrien is a Fcking Idiot ·     Adrien is Still a Fcking Idiot

·     Alibi

·     All I Want for Christmas

·     Australian Conditioning

·     Basement Corpse

·     Be More Dingo

·     But We’re Thinking of Changing Our Name

·     Cell Block Dingo

·     Coming Up Schlort

·     Ding Attenborough

·     Dingho

·     Dingo’s Cock

·     Five Words

·     Hail the Motherland

·     He Travels for Work

·     Here’s the Latest

·     Hoist the Colors

·     Ininko Montoya

·     Jellyfish Suck

·     Maybe I Could Love You

·     MLWeeklyPrompts: Only a Kiss

·     MLWeeklyPrompts: Operation SSASS

·     Nails

·     Never Check 3 AM Texts

·     Nothing for Christmas

·     Peregrine King

·     Personal Use

·     Rich Boys Don’t Stink

·     Right to Remain Stupid

·     Stealing Smoochies

·     Stowaway

·     Sunglasses

·     Sur-prise

·     That Time it was Luka’s Fault

·     Tie Me Up

·     Twins Damocles

·     Who’s Mari

·     Who’s Your Daddy

 Winters:

·     A Day in Your Scales

·     Brooms Aren’t Just for Cleaning

·     Human Feet

·     I Want One

·     Keep Your Mate Warm

·     Snake Tales

·     Snakefolk can be Fluff

·     Spring in the Citadel

·     Spring is for a Summons

·     Spring is for Courtship

·     Summer Skin

·     Summers are for Celebrating

·     Summers can be Hot

·     The Stairs

No pressure tagging...oooh, how about @livrever @19thsentry-blog @haphira and @ladyfreya123 ?  (Nerd already got Quick, Min, & Laurel 😂)

[the--highlanders]

would like to know more about 'the darkness' please? :3

But the Doctor and Zoe still did not answer, and he followed their transfixed gazes down to the great, yawning crater at the centre of the hills. It sat so unobtrusively, like a hunting dog squeezing itself onto someone’s lap. It was the inside that was truly terrifying, though, and he took an instinctive step forward, craning his neck to see further into the pit. The Doctor’s arm reached out to block him as he went. “No,’ he murmured. “Don’t get too close.” He had stepped in too late. Jamie had already stepped close enough to see to the bottom of the pit – or where the bottom ought to have been. There was nothing but a gaping, ravenous darkness, sticking to the sides of the pit like honey. The bottom is just too deep to see, he told himself. It’s down there somewhere. But he knew the truth, knew it in the pit of his stomach and in every hair springing up on the back of his neck and down his spine. Knew it like the pit itself was shouting it so loud he could not ignore it. There’s nothing down there. The pit was not just dark. It was filled with darkness, as if darkness could fill anything. The sight should not have filled him with such horror. It was, after all, just a big, dark hole. But he found himself caught between turning tail to run back to the TARDIS and bending over to retch onto the dirt. Unable to decide between the two, he stayed frozen to the ground beside the Doctor and Zoe.

(ough I really wrote that 2 years ago I would write this COMPLETELY differently now. you can really tell that I've stopped being afraid to use contractions in prose)

ok so I am now realising that the problem with this one was that I wrote the first couple of scenes but never made any sort of plot outline ghfjdkhgf. which like. I wasn't really doing plot outlines at the time but wow I wonder why I stopped writing it

anyway the premise was a fairly standard setup of 'two, jamie, and zoe try to go on holiday but something gets in the way'. in this case, two's aiming for an idyllic resort, but they land on the side of what looks like a mining site, with a hole in the middle filled with darkness.

the darkness is a living entity, some sort of cosmic horror that was uncovered by the mining, and there's a team of scientists working on getting rid of it. two gets mixed up in helping, I'm pretty sure the darkness was going to infect/possess someone (zoe??? I think????). and ultimately they were going to get rid of it, and create the landscape the resort was built on.

will I ever finish it? who knows tbh. it may moulder in my wips folder forever hgjkdfs

[mostlyinthemorning]

Author asks - yay!

2. When you’re writing a new story, what is the one thing you need to know before you can start?

29. How do you plot your stories?

30. How do you edit your stories?

💙

2. When you’re writing a new story, what is the one thing you need to know before you can start?

I am the worst at diving into a story without thinking it through properly. So I guess the answer in part is that I don't really need to know much more than the over-arching idea. But this means that I will often write a couple thousands words and then get bogged down because I haven't thought it through properly. For example, for my fic where Patrick has magic tattoos, my entire notes were "someone has a magic tattoo." I wrote 500 words and then it sat in my WIP folder for almost a year. I do spend more time thinking through my longer fics, but I'm very good at convincing myself a story will only be 2000 words and I should just wing it.

29. How do you plot your stories?

For one-shots, I don't do much (see above). I tend to keep a running list of plot points at the bottom of my doc and I cross them off as needed. For longer fics, I do create a longer outline that captures major beats and plot points so that I have a way to stay on track.

30. How do you edit your stories?

I basically write three main drafts. My first draft is mostly to get the plot right and to fill in the dialogue. The second draft fills in more of the description and emotions (ugh). After that, I do a third draft to catch anything that's not working and spelling and grammar. And then I send it to my betas. Sometimes I forget step 3 and then my beta yells at me about my inability to properly use commas.

Ask me stuff!

[diabeticlichen-thropy]

Story with diabetic OC

I’m actually terrified to post this, so if it stays up for more than 48 hours that will be an achievement but here is my WIP. I got incredibly frustrated by the lack of accurate diabetes representation in fiction, and coupled with my current Criminal Minds obsession, this came into existence. Thanks @diabets for helping me with proofreading. If anyone has title ideas please LMK. Chapter 1 below the cut

Part 2:

https://diabeticlichen-thropy.tumblr.com/post/646031442020859904/resolution-through-dialogue-and-fists-if-needed

@diabadass-vs-the-world

Chapter I

Theo walked through the atrium and jogged up a flight of stairs, down a corridor, left, right and then knocked on a door. She walked through without waiting for an answer and proceeded to dump a pile of files on a desk before collapsing into a chair causing it to spin. A man sitting at the next-door desk chuckled under his breath at Theo’s dramatics causing her to turn and face him. 

“What crawled under your skin Wilson?” He asked 

“I’m back from the field and you know what that means” she said, dropping her head to the desk

“Paperwork” the two agents said in unison, although Theo’s was distorted by her arms

Penzias laughed at Theo as he pulled a short stack of files from his desk drawer, “Why is your pile so tiny?” Theo whined 

“I do paperwork as I go, you know on the flight back or whatever? You should try it sometime”

Theo rolled her eyes at her friend, “but paperwork is the worst”, she pulled pile after pile of files from her drawers and up off the floor under her desk. Penzias’ jaw dropped watching his friend almost disappear under the pile of work she had to do. “That’s going to take more than one day to catch up on Theo” he warned her,

“That’s what I have this for!” Theo exclaimed happily pulling out a coffee the size of her head, “a triple shot cappuccino” she took a sip before suddenly swearing under her breath and pulling a small device out of her pocket, pressing a few buttons she relaxed back in her chair and swigged from her coffee. 

“Theodora Wilson, you’d think after however many decades this has been you’d remember with your unholy coffee addiction”

Theo just rolled her eyes at Daniel and slammed open her first file sighing dramatically and clicking her pen repeatedly as she read. The information in the file brought back memories of her case and she lost herself in the details. She filled out the forms for weapon use, use of force, and other accountability checks with one hand while turning the pages with her other. She and Daniel worked in silence the only sounds, the turn of a page, scratch of a pen or sip of coffee as the hours ticked by. 

The comfortable silence was interrupted by a beeping from Theo’s hip. She pulled the device out again, checked the screen and put it away, going back to to work. The quiet rhythm had been broken though and Daniel stretched loudly. His pile had dwindled to one, and although Theo had powered through a significant number of files she still had two large piles on her desk. “I’m gonna go grab some lunch, want anything?” Daniel asked

“Nah, I’ve got a sandwich somewhere” Theo responded looking up from her work. “Thanks though” 

The door swung shut with a click behind Daniel and the space was once again quiet, thanks to the empty bullpen in which their desks were situated. Their unit had been given a few days of leave after a particularly difficult case but their Unit Chief had told Theo to get her paperwork done or she’d be grounded from field work. This was a recurring theme throughout Theo’s career but her work in and off the field (minus her paperwork) was stellar and even her paperwork eventually got done to an appropriate standard. She was mildly irritated that she was in the mostly-empty office on a weekend but with the high-intensity work with long and irregular hours it wasn’t like she had anywhere else to be. At least in the office she was being productive. She looked back down at the case open in front of her. The photos were gory but after five years in the job she’d achieved the necessary levels of desensitisation, enough that she could cope but she had enough empathy to feel the importance of what she did. She picked up her pen and began to write as the door opened “you’re back from lunch quickly” she remarked, assuming Daniel had returned. Instead, it was the voice of her boss, Unit Chief Lucas Secman that sounded throughout the empty office. “How’s that paperwork coming along Wilson?” He asked. The grin was audible in his voice, he knew just how much she hated it and although Theo was often a source of exasperation, they had a good relationship. Some might even call them friends although neither of them would ever admit to it. “How do you think?” Theo retorted, rolling her eyes and turning her chair to meet her boss face to face. He returned the gesture as he surveyed the piles of folders and paper on her desk, “how long have you been putting this off again?” he asked, slightly astonished at the sheer amount in front of him. “You should know sir, you’re the reason I’m here” she responded lifting her coffee cup, she tilted it to see if there was any left. “How many of those have you had today?” Secman asked, “based on your handwriting I’d say too many”. Theo thought for a second “We talking shots or coffees?” 

“Wrong answer” Secman responded, he turned to face the door as Daniel walked through “Penzias, your new mission is to prevent Wilson from drinking any more coffee, one more shot of espresso and her handwriting will be even more illegible than it already is” 

“Yes sir” Daniel responded, grinning at Theo as she groaned, her head thudding on her desk. 

“You two are the worst” 

“Sorry for keeping you alive Wilson” Daniel grinned at her, suddenly checking his watch “speaking of your absolute lack of self-preservation, when did you last eat?” Theo groaned again, only lifting her head when the rustle of a paper bag sounded. “I grabbed you lunch, its pasta from that place down the road you love” 

“Marry me” Theo said, opening the bag and smelling the warm food. A cough sounded from behind her, Secman was slightly flushed, “marriage proposals after paperwork is done Wilson, I’ll be in my office if you need anything” 

“Yes sir” the two agents said in unison watching their boss’ back until the door to his office closed. Theo pulled the cutlery out of the lunch bag, quickly eyeballing her food and typing the carb count for the lunch into her insulin pump before beginning eating with a moan. “You’re an angel Daniel”, Daniel just chuckled under his breath, sitting in his own chair and opening the final case file. Theo switched her pen for a fork and twirled the spaghetti getting lost in her work yet again. 

When she finally finished, hours after Daniel left, it was well and truly night outside the windows of the office and the only light came from her desk light, and through the blinds of Secman’s office facing into the bullpen. She stood up, wincing as her muscles stretched and joints cracked after hours hunched over her desk. She picked up the first pile of now-completed cases and walked over to Secman’s door, loosening up further with each step. She knocked quietly, waiting for permission from the Head Agent before entering. After the signal had been given she cracked open the door, “I have a gift for you” she announced walking in and dumping the pile in front of her boss. “The first of many” she threw over her shoulder walking back to her desk and grabbing another stack. Soon the pile on Secman’s desk was too tall and precarious so she began stacking them on the floor instead. After six such trips back and forth, a significant portion of Secman’s floor was now hidden underneath piles of papers and folders, her boss sat in his desk chair, full body laughs shook his body as he marvelled at the mess she had made. Theo’s eyes met his and suddenly she too was giggling, sitting on the carpet as the two of them laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. Wiping his eyes, Secman remarked “this is the last time I let you go this long without doing your paperwork Wilson” 

“If you say so sir” Theo responded, lying back on the floor, “what time is it?” Secman checked his watch, “just after nine”. Theo made a noise of disgust, 

“I should eat something”

“Want to go grab something for dinner? That new diner opened just down the block” 

“Sure, why not? I’m always down to try something new”

The two of them stood up and stretched, Secman grabbed his jacket of the back of his chair, slipping his phone into the pocket. He held the door open for Theo, before locking it as they walked over to her desk. She quickly tidied up her desk, swiping her pens into a drawer, the takeout container from lunch and coffee cups into the trash. She shrugged her jacket on and picked her backpack up from under her desk, “let’s go” she turned to Secman, shoving her hands in her pockets. He let Theo through the door first and then followed, the door automatically locked behind them. The high security of the building was necessary after an attempted break in of multiple intelligence agencies worldwide almost a decade ago. The two agents walked out of the building and into the cold night air, the noise and lights of the city wrapped around Theo like a blanket. This time, Secman led the way down the road. True to his word, only a few minutes walk away he held open the door to a well lit diner with a few people inside. They were greeted at the door by a girl who showed them to a booth. Both agents sat on the same side of the booth, their backs against the wall and facing the door. Secman handed her a menu from where the waitress had placed them on the table and the two of them proceeded to read them, Theo was scanning the room, a hold over from years in the field and she knew that Secman was doing the same. Once she was sure that the room was safe, but keeping one eye on the door, she took the time to actually check out the meal options. The food was typical diner fare but she was in the mood for some salt and grease tonight after the long day she’d had. The room held a few other people, a couple sat in a booth diagonally across from Theo and Secman. Judging by their mannerisms and the food, it was a first date. Theo noted the neat meal the woman had ordered while the man was eating wings with his fingers, it was highly unlikely the date would result in a second. Closer to the door there was a college student, Theo suspected a late-night deadline, paying attention to the multiple empty coffee mugs and the knee bouncing that betrayed the student’s stress. All of the diner’s occupants were similarly non-threatening and Theo relaxed as the waitress approached. 

“What can I get started for you guys tonight?” She asked them. Secman ordered nachos and Theo, a chicken burger with mozzarella sticks. The Head Agent glared at her when she tried to order coffee so she switched it out for a diet soda, emphasis on the diet. Once their orders were placed and the waitress had left the table, the two settled into easy conversation. Topics ranged from Theo’s current reading material, to Secman (call me Lucas, we’re not at work)’s cat, to who in the unit would be most likely to start a cult. Their food arrived relatively quickly and both agents continued to talk for over an hour after their meals were complete. As they left, Theo made sure to ask the waitress to give compliments to the chef, the simple diner food had been done incredibly well. The night air was cool and Theo wrapped her jacket tighter around her. They walked back to the office and parted with a slightly awkward handshake as Secman drove off in his government issued SUV. Theo on the other hand walked over to her pride and joy, a black 1962 Chevy Corvette. The car had been parked under a street light in the lot and Theo unlocked it. She revved the engine, smiling to herself before she drove off into the night. 

Fifteen-or-so minutes later Theo’s car pulled up to a small house in a quiet street. The lights in the house were on as she cut the engine and the front door swung open as she walked up the front steps. A tall man greeted Theo with a kiss and the two of them walked into the house together. 

“How was work honey?” Chris, Theo’s husband of five years, asked

“You know how paper work days are” she responded, “sorry I’m home late, Lucas asked me to go grab dinner at a new diner” 

“It’s all good, I saw your text. Fork and I had takeout” Chris responded, gesturing to the cat sitting on the kitchen counter next to a couple of empty Chinese takeout containers. 

“Awww” Theo cooed, walking over and lifting the rather grumpy cat into her arms, Chris chuckled at his indignant meow. “How is Lucas?” 

“Eh, Secman is Secman, same old. Penzias bought me lunch though” 

“That was nice of him, we should have him around for dinner again sometime” Chris told her, moving to clean up some of the mess

“We really should, I think he’s got a new girl, Kylie or something?” Theo said, stroking Fork. 

Chris grinned at that, Penzias had a reputation for having a new girl every other month, not out of anything malicious, he just didn’t have longterm relationships. “How was your day?” 

“It was pretty quiet, I got some gardening and lesson prep done”. Chris was a botany professor at the local community college. He adored his job and Theo loved hearing his rants about various interest plant facts he would discover through his research, or about the weird emails his students sent him (there were lots of those). “How are those new waterlilies doing?” Theo asked her husband, smiling softly as he proceeded to update her on the progress his various plants. 

She woke on Monday to the smell of coffee and Chris climbing back into bed, two steaming mugs in his hands, “Good morning sweetheart” he said handing her a mug and settling back against the pillows. “Thanks sweet pea”, she sat up and began to sip at the coffee, scrolling through the news for the morning. “What time do you have to be in the office today?” Chris asked. “Secman wants us to be in by nine” Theo informed him “he got tired of Daniel showing up forty-five minutes late with coffee”. Chris grinned at the image,

“I don’t have a class until ten so I can drop you at work if you like?”

Theo kissed her husband on the cheek, thanking him as she rolled out of bed to shower. Once she was showered and dressed in a pair of black slacks and a cropped woollen blazer, she joined Chris in the kitchen for breakfast. He slid a plate of waffles in her direction, “there’s fifty grams in that, I used the new sugar-free syrup you picked up the other day”, Theo gave herself her insulin and then dug into her food. 

The ride into her office was quiet except for the couple’s shared playlist playing quietly in the background. The SUV pulled into the parking lot of the J. Edgar Hoover Building, “I’ll text you when I finish? If it’s going to be late I’ll get a lift with Penzias” 

“Sounds good, if Daniel does bring you home, send me a text and I’ll make enough dinner for the three of us”

“He’ll love that” Theo laughed “I don’t think he’s eaten anything except takeout since the last time he came for dinner” 

“Have a good day sweetheart” Chris kissed her forehead as she climbed out of the car

“You too honey” 

The door shut and Chris watched his wife head through the sliding doors into the atrium.

[alj4890]

Six Sentence Sunday

I'm behind on so much due to life in general, LOL. But to show that I am working on things here is a sneak peek into the next parts of Delicate (which this should be the last chapter of this short series), And Then I Left You, and a few drabbles I have in my WIP folder.

tagging a few that might be interested  @jooous @krsnlove @nomadics-stuff   @twinkleallnight @motorcitymademadame @gkittylove99 @darley1101  @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles t @lodberg​   @my-heart-beats-for-ya​ @aworldoffandoms​ @flyawayboo​  @trappedinfanfiction​ @everythingmarvelsherlockspn​  @sophxwithers​ @esmckenzie​ 

Delicate

This might be the first ball in the history of Drake's years in Cordonia to actually cause a certain excitement. He usually put up with the pomp and traditions to simply be with those he cared about. For years it was to support Liam, then going meant he could hang out with Riley, Hana, and Maxwell.

And then there were his activities in secret for a year with Olivia.

He knew she would be arriving soon. Her absence from Cordonia had been one he felt more acutely than any other. His failure in telling her how he felt about her, his inability to have a civil conversation, even his voicemail had kept him fixated on this date.

He intended for this new year to involve a new relationship with Olivia. He simply needed to find a moment alone with her.

Which as he entered the drawing room Riley and Liam used frequently for their closest friends, he realized that was going to be more difficult than he originally thought. All their friends had come home for the ball.

"I can't believe they gave us that ridiculous moniker." Thomas shook his head.

"The press isn't always known for their intelligence." Liam said, fighting a smile.

"Thomanda." Amanda laughed just saying it. "It sounds like some weird foot fungus cream."

"The press have had five years to come up with anything better than that." Thomas wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders. "They should have combined our last names. Brunt is more tolerable than Thomanda."

Maxwell rolled off the couch laughing. "We now have to come up with crazy couple names for all of us!"

"We were given Riam." Riley replied. "Personally I prefer Liley, but Riam stuck."

"Naxwell or Madia." Amanda said between giggles while pointing at Maxwell and Nadia. "That's your possible couple's name."

"Naxwell sounds like a snack cake or cookie." Riley added with a chuckle.

"We are sweet." Maxwell responded, cuddling Nadia close.

Hana sighed at seeing them all so happy together. "What would mine and Rashad's be?"

"Rashana?" Riley offered.

"Oh I like that so much better than what I thought." Amanda laughed. "I at first thought Hahad."

The group burst into laughter while more couple names were bandied about.

"So what do we dub Olivia and Ethan?" Liam asked.

"Ethalivia?" Hana offered.

"Olithan?" Maxwell added.

"Oooh! Olithan!" Riley exclaimed. "Sounds like a sea monster. Olivia will love it!"

**************

And Then I Left You

Thomas had worried that first day how they would handle the hotel situations he believed they were bound to encounter. He had gotten used to Olivia's secret passageways allowing him to see Amanda whenever he wanted.

He should have known that the intelligent lady he adored had already solved that problem.

Pulling onto a gravel road, she drove him toward a cottage that sat alone in a rolling meadow dotted here and there with trees. The two-story, thatched roof building sat amidst large Cordonian oak trees. Roses twined around a drain pipe while wisteria grew in wild abandon adding even more beauty to the rough stone walls.

"I know we could stay somewhere different with each place we visit," Amanda explained. "But then I thought we could stay our entire time somewhere in the middle of it all. It will mean more driving each day, but we will have nothing but privacy here."

Thomas stepped out and followed her inside. The cottage was just as charming on the inside as it was on the outside. Much of the furniture was designed strictly for comfort and a few for whimsy. The wooden floors creaked with each step as he explored the different rooms.

Upstairs, there were two bedrooms directly across from one another with a bathroom dividing them.

His lips curved at knowing he wouldn't have to find a way to sneak around and see her whenever they weren't out in public.

"What do you think?" She asked, a bit nervous from his silence.

"It's charming." He set his arms around her waist. "And perfect for our needs."

******************

This next sneak peek is a second part to the Liam angst I posted earlier 😬 So sorry how dark that went. Since many wanted to see how Liam is after losing Riley, Drake and Maxwell, here is some of how it is going for him. Let’s just say it isn’t easy and will take some special persuasion from those left behind to help him.

Liam ignored all of it. He went to his chambers and remained secluded from the world for days. He refused entry to anyone who knocked. He simply sat there staring at the few mementos he had of those he had lost.

He flipped through the photographs Maxwell had insisted on taking of the three of them through the years. He paused at the few his mother was in, wishing she was here now to tell him how to move on from something like this. She had encouraged his friendships with Maxwell and Drake, knowing he would need them to face life in the public eye.

And now he would never have them again.

Setting the old album aside, he reached for the key chain Riley had given him the night of the Coronation. Thinking of that night and their confessions of love only to be cruelly parted...his head dropped as he carefully set it back on the table. Next he picked up the pearl he had given her. The plans and hopes they had while meeting in secret. It had helped him through every moment he was kept from her side.

He then lifted the photograph Anna had taken of them for their engagement. Liam's fingers trembled as they brushed against the image of Riley. Her smile so warm. Her eyes so filled with joy.

Reaching for a decanter, he attempted to metaphorically drown his sorrows. In one night he had lost everything he had held dear. How was he to go on from this? There was no enemy to slay, no way to find those he loved and rescue them. Nothing. Nothing except funerals to attend. Nothing but giving them to the cold, unforgiving dirt.

All he had ahead of him was visits to graveyards. He knew his father didn't have much longer to live. It would be just one more loss in his already devastated heart.

Death was what his life had become. He had feared that when his mother was poisoned. Many a night he would wake up crying at the thought of being completely and utterly alone. This long forgotten fear rose up within him, showing that it hadn't been a mere nightmare. It had been a premonition.

Dropping his head in his hands, he sobbed into the void that had become his only companion.

****************

This next peek is a miniseries idea that will be called, Mixed Signals, that hit after that last Open Heart Chapter. It will focus on my MC Chris getting closer to Tobias (and gah, I am wishing now she could dump all the LI's and be with him. His humor and confidence have won me completely over). It will take place in both books 2 and 3 and focus on her frustration with Ethan and Bryce never committing or saying how they truly feel about her. Since, especially in the chapters before the Hawaii trip, they both would randomly act romantic towards her then friend zone her in the next scene, I'm letting this series show her choosing to step back and see what she wants and needs from a significant other. This begins after the attack and Chris has yet to return to work. She goes to Mass Kenmore to thank Tobias for coming to help find a cure for her and ends up opening up to him a bit.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tobias asked softly, gently squeezing her close.

"Not really." Chris admitted. "Everyone keeps telling me to give myself time and all." She eased back. "I wish they would leave me alone."

He kept his hands on her waist while studying her. "Then tell them."

"Ha. You've met them." She snorted. "They don't take orders like that well."

"True." He replied. "You want me to do it?" His smirk brought a grin to her face. "Ethan already considers me a pain in his ass. What's one more mark against me?"

She laughed, while dabbing at her eyes and nose. "After what you did for me? No way am I letting you continue to be the bad guy."

"Aww shucks, Valentine." Tobias teased. "You're going to give me a big head."

"As if it wasn't already big enough." She teased back. Tilting her head, she pretended to study him. "How do you lift it?"

"I work out." He winked then stood up. "I'm glad you came by."

"Me too." She held her hand out.

He shook his head. "You already hugged me. I figure that could be our thing."

"Our thing?"

Tobias pulled her back into his embrace.

"Yeah." He hugged her close. "Now that you won't let me be the big bad guy, I think this means you want us to be friends."

"Whoa. I'm merely a girl coming to thank a guy for saving her life." She teased. "Don't be thinking this means more than that."

"Sorry. Thought is already there." He countered, letting her go. "You're stuck with me now Chris whether you like it or not."

"Ugh, fine." She playfully grumbled. "I already deal with so many ego maniacs. What's one more?"

He opened his office door for her. "I knew you would agree."

"Just because you won this round doesn't mean you'll win them all, Dr. Carrick." Chris warned.

"Allow me to let you in on a little secret, Dr. Valentine," he leaned down close to whisper. "I win all the rounds that are important to me." Swiping up the folder he had previously been studying, he saluted her. "See you soon."

***************

And finally another miniseries "What if" for Thomas Hunt and my OC. I've been inspired by rewriting And Then I Met You and decided to do the same with their story in Second Chances. Here's a peek of Amanda actually telling Thomas she is pregnant instead of storming out of his office. I've yet to come up with a title I like for it, LOL, so we'll just wait on that.

Amanda ignored the words Thomas was saying. She didn't want to hear that he had fallen for an actress. All she could focus on was her pain turning into fury. How could he have moved on so quickly?

She wanted to hit him. Never in her life had she ever wanted to hurt someone so much as she did Thomas.

She felt sick to her stomach thinking about him and Kara. The nausea reminded her that she couldn't give in to her desire. She had someone else to think of. Someone who deserved every sacrifice she knew she would have to make to keep Thomas in their child's life.

"...and that's why I am sending Kara flowers." Thomas stepped closer to her when he noticed how pale she was. "Amanda?"

Her eyes lifted to his. Taking a deep breath, she blurted out the reason she came to his office.

"I'm pregnant."

She watched as her words slowly registered. The shock of her announcement caused him to collapse in the chair she had been sitting in.

"Pregnant." He breathed. "Are you certain?"

"Yes." Amanda clasped her hands in front of her. "I wouldn't have come here if I had not had it confirmed by a doctor."

Thomas knew she wouldn't have darkened his door for anything. If there was one characteristic they shared, it was pride. Neither ever wanted to appear foolish.

He got up and took a step toward her, uncertain how he was supposed to react. "What do you intend to do?"

Tears sparked her eyes. "Well, I am going to keep the baby and I hoped..." She bit her lip while lowering her eyes. Seems he had no intention to get back together with her. "I hope you will want to be a part of our child's life."

Thomas reached for her hand. Just because he wasn't sure whether or not to try a romantic relationship with her again, it didn't mean that he didn't want to be there for her.

"I will." He promised.

Her head jerked up and she noticed that there was no condemnation towards her reflected in his expression. Though the surprise announcement had knocked him for a loop, he was at least trying to do the right thing.

Though she had hoped to hear that he wanted to try again, she was vastly relieved to hear his promise.

"Are you planning on staying in L.A. for a while?" He asked.

"I could stay a few days." She wiped her tears with her fingers. A nervous laugh escaped her. "I wasn't sure if you would want me to after I told you about the baby."

"I would like to discuss how we will work this out." He squeezed her hand before urging her to sit down. "I have some meetings that I don't think I'll be able to get out of, but how about dinner tonight at my home?"

"I don't want to interrupt your date." She struggled with the word. "I can--"

"I'm not dating anyone." Thomas explained. "That's why I told you the flowers were more of a professional courtesy than romantic in nature."

"So you and Kara Bennett?" Amanda felt a brief spark of hope. "You're not--"

"No. She's one of the actresses on an upcoming film I'm directing." He replied.

"I see." She mumbled.

"Does 7:30 sound good?" He asked.

"Yes, of course."

"Should I pick you up?" He remembered she was staying at a hotel.

"No, I'll call for a car." She got to her feet again and held her hand out. "I know you have work and a lot to think over." Her lips curved into a sad smile. "But thank you for meeting with me and hearing me out."

He came around his desk and pulled her into a hug. Realizing how hard it was for her to come here, touched something within his heart. She seemed so fragile that he felt the need to comfort her.

Hugging her was the safest way in his opinion.

She trembled in his arms before returning his hug. Struggling with her tears, she laughed.

"Forgive me. I haven't had control of my emotions these last few months. These pregnancy hormones have a mind of their own."

Thomas handed her some tissues. "No need to apologize."

She thanked him as she dabbed under her eyes. "If I'm not crying then I am losing my temper. Poor Maxwell. I practically jumped down his throat for drinking the last Sprite on the way here."

His eyebrows lifted. "Maxwell came with you?"

"Everyone came with me." She shook her head in exasperation. "They were worried that you--" she winced. "They came to support me."

"I see." He replied. Reaching out, he gently grasped her arm. "I hate to rush you, but--"

"Of course." She gathered her things. "I'll see you this evening."

He smiled at her. "I look forward to it."

[uwua3]

your name (pt.1)

❄️📚 tsukioka tsumugi

part 1 — part 2 — part 3

summary: being an adult is tiring, tsumugi knows that all too well.

warnings: class divide (struggling financially), food

author’s note: this is the first ever series i’m doing! please anticipate the next installment of the “your name” series tomorrow :D i’m so excited to share this since part 01 is my first ever wip for a3 ever 🤍 please enjoy!

word count: 2,932

music: kimi no na wa soundtrack – radwimps

Running with reckless abandon, a boy trips amidst the bustling public traffic in the station, books flying out of his arms from the sheer force of his turn. Passer-bys barely spared a glance at the panicked tutor as he bent down to gather his academic papers, all imprinted by strangers’ shoes. In a moment of lifelong embarrassment, the world continued to spin as nothing rippled the fabric of time.

Murmurs spread across the crowd, daily small talk between people who would never see each other again on the complex train system. Students shared personal gossip too loud for their own good as their prestigious private academy skirts flew past him. Businessmen burdened themselves with client phone calls as they were all weighed down by the same leather briefcase. Employees wore their customer service mask, smiling politely before dropping their act immediately afterwards when they thought no one was looking. As expected, there was no time in the schedule to stop and help a recent university graduate out of his clumsy peril. Everyone was too distracted by their own problems to consider breaking their routine.

Perceptive by nature, Tsukioka Tsumugi didn’t need to glance at his watch to know he was late to his study session. The automated female voice sounded dull over the speakers, announcing his designated train was to depart in five minutes in a monotone attitude. Tokyo was a busy city with no mercy for those who didn’t plan every second of their future. That much was understandable by the aspiring teacher who quickly pulled out his outdated flip phone as he carefully eyed the assignments back in his possession.

A single tone rang before a drawl was heard in poor quality, with a shit–eating grin Tsumugi knew all too well.

“Tsumu, did you finally realize I don’t need your tutoring?” Settsu Banri mocked, the distinct background noises of his new video game obsession making Tsumugi speed walk even faster. With his books held tight against his chest, he sighed and almost pinched the bridge of his nose before realizing none of his hands were free. Placing the phone in between his shoulder and ear, Tsumugi rolled his eyes as he attempted to organize his mess.

“Banri-kun, please refer to me as Tsukioka-san. I am your senior by years, if I may remind you.” Tsumugi reprimanded, noting Banri’s agitated groan and muttered under his breath about the age difference between them. Unlike the other students Tsumugi tutored, Banri was defiant. Over–the–top, lazy, and arrogant—but deadly smart. Ever since Tsumugi carefully took off his shoes in the Settsus’ overpriced apartment, Banri took it upon himself to make his life a living hell by refusing to do the work but getting every question right. The only thing Banri cooperated with was talking about video games, which distracted him from his innate ability to be the best at everything. So on Friday afternoons, Tsumugi would visit to recap the weekly curriculum and try his best to stay patient with Banri’s snappy attitude.

“Why’d you call anyways? You’re late, by the way.” Banri pointed out right before Tsumugi fell through the two closing doors on the train, tumbling into a displeased but silent group as he gripped the overhead. Spectators only stared for a second before turning away as Tsumugi blushed under the attention, stammering back a half–assed apology of how he was going to be twenty minutes late for their session.

“Hold on, am I talking to the right person? Tsukioka Tsumugi, late? Real funny, just tell me you quit or something.” Banri feigned a bothered persona, but it was nice to pretend he was actually worried over the possibility of not seeing Tsumugi. Apologizing quickly to a corporate worker he bumped into, Tsumugi fixed the bag slung too low on his right shoulder as he took the phone back in his hand. At the same time, the zipper on his decade old bag gave out as it took his foot’s entire strength to keep the folders in place. Great, another thing to replace.

Staring outside the window, the school year was coming to a close as the heat of incoming summer air made him grip the phone in case of vicious sweat. “Banri–kun, you know I value our study sessions together.” He didn’t respond, just a resigned hmph before hanging up as Banri started swearing into his gaming headset. Tsumugi closed his eyes, getting his minutes of shut-eye for the first time in days as the sun glowed. Time didn’t stop for anyone, especially not Tsukioka Tsumugi.

After being greeted way too properly by the Settsu chain of servants, Tsumugi could hear the exaggerated game sound effects throughout the rather empty mansion. Walking carefully into Banri’s wide open door, Tsumugi grimaced at the sight of the energy drink cans crushed and thrown haphazardly near the trash can. Junk food wrappers were kicked underneath the expensive furniture as Banri was focused on his two–screen gaming setup. The rainbow LED keyboard was smashed expertly by Banri’s quick fingers all without looking down, getting him a #1 win as he boredly stared at the victory. As expected of NEO-san, a top league player. Or so Tsumugi’s heard by his other student, Taichi, who dramatically cries every time he loses against Banri.

“Banri-kun, please excuse my interruption.” Tsumugi announced, holding up the textbooks he had carried with a strained smile. Banri didn’t even look over as he logged off, saying something about GG to his teammate by the name of “Taruchi” before pushing the cat headset down around his neck. Spinning around in his black gamer chair, Banri raised one eyebrow at Tsumugi’s disheveled appearance panting slightly in the doorway. It was unlike his composed, proper tutor to be... like every young adult out there? Tsumugi didn’t seem like he had all the wisdom and knowledge in the world, he looked more... confused than anything.

“Geez, Tsumu. Didn’t think you’d sleep in, watched the meteor strike last night?” Banri smirked, rolling his chair across the room to his school desk as he put his legs up, stretching his arms beneath his head lazily. How he hadn't changed out of his white t-shirt and sweatpants was beyond Tsumugi as he sat in his normal chair silently, unlike the loud high schooler who glanced at the folder of work with a yawn. Grabbing some trendy bucket hat, Banri shoved the brim over his eyes as he took a break from the flashing neon blue light from his monitor.

“Meteor strike?” Tsumugi questioned innocently, attempting to hold conversation as Banri hummed a game soundtrack absentmindedly. Nodding, Banri pulled up his modern phone that made Tsumugi wince thinking of the price of that thing. Shoving the screen in front of Tsumugi’s wary red eyes, he blinked rapidly to adjust to the bright overpowering pixels. Tsumugi noticed an event marked that raved about the phenomenal light show the day before. Thinking back on the train incident this morning, Tsumugi remembered the excitement buzzing through the students a week prior as they whispered about a new chance to wear their best yukatas to celebrate. It had been so long since he was in school, that he completely forgot about all the childish euphoria that came with change.

“I must’ve slept through it. I didn’t notice at all.” Tsumugi admitted, tilting his head as he tried to remember the news every morning the past week. He couldn’t remember a single story of the astronomical event, although every day felt the same as usual. It was peculiar; Tsumugi was awake all night, too. He couldn’t sleep without his medication... maybe he should have looked up for once.

Taking his phone back to check the game notification popping up on screen, Banri chuckled as he shoved a stick of chocolate pocky in his mouth. “Mhmm, said it was a historical event n’ all. Supposed to be life-changing.” Banri offered bare minimum detail on anything and everything, but it was enough for Tsumugi to have a slight understanding as he set up the workspace. Banri noticed the distant look in Tsumugi’s eyes, the tiredness stifled underneath the graceful mannerisms as it looked like he was going through the motions. Attempting to lighten the mood, Banri’s voice came off meaner than he intended. “Aren’t you like? 25? How come you don’t know this stuff, you’re no boomer.”

Tsumugi frowned, glancing at Banri who looked away immediately with a flustered expression. Leave it to Banri to overthink whether or not he overstepped a boundary but refuse to acknowledge it. Tsumugi kept the meme going, sarcastically deadpanning, “Haha” before tossing a new eraser at Banri’s mushroom hair. Banri caught the gift in one hand easily as he slowly turned it over, turning his body to fully face his tutor. His feet dropped to the floor with a bang, startling Tsumugi to straighten his posture and stare directly into Banri’s curious face that had a glint of... concern?

“What’s all this? A gift to make me like you or something?” Banri jokes, nudging Tsumugi’s foot with his own. Tsumugi couldn’t help but notice the tight death grip Banri had on the small, game controller shaped eraser he had found at his full time work as a florist. Across the street was a one dollar convenience store, where teenage workers stood at the register on their phones as Tsumugi checked out the stationary. Wearing his dirt–stained apron, he remembered coming across miniature, adorable erasers that made him think of his students. Especially the red and blue Nintendo Switch joy con erasers that made Tsumugi think of Banri’s whole rant about the superiority of Fire Emblem: Three Houses’ Black Eagles for the potential wife girls. Sure, it was a hit on his already fragile bank account, but it was worth it to see Banri genuinely happy about something for once.

“You already do, I’m the longest tutor you’ve had.” Tsumugi didn’t need the thanks, because it was clear in the way Banri for once put something down without throwing it. Banri scoffed, mumbling a weak comeback as he flipped open his notebook. He even tossed his hat off his head, revealing the messy long hair tucked behind his ears. Oh, he did his homework for once, Tsumugi mused with satisfaction before trying to flip to the appropriate page in the school’s textbook. It was open to a section on meteors, and glossy colored pictures of the sky made Tsumugi’s eyes focus. The image seemed familiar. Perhaps he stared a moment too long, because Banri took the book himself and thumbed his way to the marked section, warily sparing a careful glance.

“Hey... you good? You don’t look... normal.” Banri roughly phrased, trying his best to emote like a normal human would. Tsumugi nodded, not convincing anyone he was off. Brushing his sweaty palms upon his jeans, Tsumugi pushed his hair back as he started reciting what he knew of the topic and reviewed the homework, failing to catch Banri’s attentive stare at Tsumugi’s cheap, hole-ridden pants and bag bursting at the seams.

Tsumugi went back on the same train. The people were the same, his schedule was the same. Banri was different today though, paid more attention today despite knowing it already. Maybe he just wanted to get it over with, probably some tournament tonight.

In the face of the orange sunset above the skyscrapers, Tsumugi walked home with a slow, natural pace that fit his time slot he allocated for transportation. The mental reminder allowed him to look up for once, seeing the birds fly together around the quieter part of the city as a golden haze reflected off the glass. Community members said their usual predictable greetings as he waved back, respectfully wishing good health to his elders and telling funny jokes to the youth playing sports. Yet, it didn’t bring him the fulfillment he got before when he was young. Being an adult, was tiring.

It was the same everyday, as Tsumugi left the residential area and climbed through the back alley to a slum part of town. Lights flickered as abandoned businesses creaked amidst the silence. He escaped the prying eyes of neighbors and unlocked the door to his dingy, unsafe apartment. Closing the door quietly, Tsumugi stared at the studio as silence overtook his surroundings. Dust floated in the golden hour as everything was where he exactly left it.

“Welcome home.” Tsumugi whispered, his own voice echoing in between his four walls. Alone, again. It was the same everyday.

Heating up the instant ramen expired in his cupboard, the microwave sparked every once in a while as Tsumugi leaned against the counter. Each surface he touched creaked with uncertainty, as if it didn’t know how long it could last. His one–room housing felt cramped despite the lack of furniture around Tsumugi. His run–down appliances, aged decor, and rising rent made the location even better as Tsumugi did the usual routine of eating half the calories he needed and staying up browsing job listings. This time, the ramen wasn’t as satisfying as the pastry Banri stuffed in his hand before he left.

“What’s this?” Tsumugi remembered asking, immediately feeling sick to his stomach once he saw Banri’s serious expression stare back at him. At the moment, it felt like Banri was his teacher. The sweet, strawberry mochi wrapped in plastic felt warm in his palm as Banri stood at the door of his own home, leading Tsumugi out with a gift.

“Mochi. You’re Japanese, dipshit. Just a thanks, I guess.” Banri bullshitted, rolling his eyes as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Tsumugi noticed they began to fidget a little bit as Banri tapped his foot against the welcome mat. “School punk named Juza bakes or whatever, has a family business so thought you might like it. Or whatever.” Banri elaborated, using one hand to tug at the already loose v–neck collar of his week old t–shirt. Was that a blush Tsumugi saw on his rather indifferent student? No matter, it wasn’t his business to ask about a troublemaker turned pastry chef.

He’d make sure to thank his student next time he tutored him, which would be (Tsumugi checked the wall calendar disappointedly) next week. Banri was a good kid, even if he had his teenage angsty rebellion phase for a while now. Privileged kids liked doing that, pretending the whole world was against them despite having everything, Tsumugi thought bitterly. Even he was slightly surprised and caught off guard by his own pessimism, before the microwave beeped, signaling its task was done.

When Tsumugi tried to pull open the door, the handle snapped off and a quiet sigh escaped Tsumugi’s lips. Guess no dinner for tonight, then. Tsumugi didn’t have enough fight in him to care, so he dropped the handle onto the counter with a clatter. Inside this studio room, there was nothing for Tsumugi here. Not even his own food.

So, Tsumugi sat down on the couch that groaned beneath his weight. Except, it wasn’t his own body that made his sofa creak—it was the stack of papers needing to be graded in his arms. With a red pen tucked behind his ear, Tsumugi began marking his students’ work. A minute passed before Tsumugi quickly turned the television on, letting the sound of the news distract him from the unbearable loneliness.

Sure, it was going to increase his bills but... the money would be worth it to make his thoughts quiet for a moment. Tsumugi had a job to do, and he wouldn’t let his mindset get in the way. Being an adult was something else, indeed.

When had he fallen asleep?

Tsumugi blinked slowly, finding that his cheek was resting against a substantially smaller stack. Another pile that was distinctly red ink was on the other cushion, the pen without its cap rolled across the carpet. Tsumugi subconsciously winced when he realized the T.V. was on, the same channel on in the background.

Lifting his head, Tsumugi tried to comprehend the visual of the screen through his blurry vision. Tsumugi’s glasses must’ve dropped somewhere; he hoped he didn’t step on them. From what he could hear, the duo of news anchors were animatedly discussing some supernatural phenomenon tonight. Tsumugi rubbed his eyes, leaning closer to the small box screen ahead.

There was no way he possibly heard that correctly. Yet, there it was on the T.V.: “Historical Meteor Shower Tonight!” in big bold letters at the bottom. Tsumugi could remember Banri talking about something like this, but it had occurred last night. Was there another one? How common was it for two meteor showers within a span of mere hours? Sitting up, Tsumugi watched the pair talk about the light show.

“This is said to be the first event of its kind in Japan!” The host exclaimed, the screen switching to a picture of the meteors. A sense of familiarity struck Tsumugi once more, the same feeling when he had seen Banri’s textbook earlier that day. “It’s said to be life–changing—” The other one replied, Tsumugi’s wide eyes focused on every single passing word and image. Could deja vu possibly last this long?

As Tsumugi fumbled for his phone, he made his way out onto his balcony. Something inside him was telling him to get some air as Tsumugi dialed Banri’s number. Before Tsumugi could confirm the call, a bright light appeared out of the corner of his eye.

Tsumugi looked up to see two bright meteors splitting from one another. At the sight, Tsumugi’s phone landed upon the balcony floor.

[starspangledbigbang]

Welcome to the 2021 Star Spangled Big Bang!

The Star Spangled Big Bang is a chance for writers and artists to collaborate and create stories paired with artwork, all of which will focus on the members of Team Cap from the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Authors sign up to write stories that are 10k words or longer. Artists then claim stories and create art inspired by them. Creations may be canon, canon divergent, or AU. They must be centered around at least one character from the MCU’s Team Cap/Cap Quartet. All pairings as well as gen fic are welcome.

Friday 5 March - Author & Artist sign-ups open

Friday 2 April - Author sign-ups close

Friday 21 May - Author Check-in

Friday 4 June - Artist sign-ups close, Author summaries due (5k of fic complete)

Sunday 6 June - Author summaries available for preview

Friday 11 June - Claims open, Partnerships announced

Friday 2 July - Author & Artist Check-in #1

Friday 9 July Sat 17 July - Beta Claims

Friday 6 August - Author & Artist Check-in #2, Posting Date Claims

September - Posting period

Content Guidelines

Every creation must be centered around one or more characters from the MCU’s Team Cap or the Cap Quartet. This includes Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanov, Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Scott Lang, Wanda Maximoff, and Sharon Carter.

Any and all ratings are welcome, as well any setting, be it canon, canon divergent, or AU. Authors will be able to outline their preferences on rating, do-not-wants, and collaboration interest level if desired so that artists may take that into consideration when choosing what stories they’d like to collab with. 

Please be mindful of portraying marginalized communities respectfully. This page from Writing With Color has a list of blogs and resources that discuss diversity in writing. Any creations that sympathetically portray hate groups or actively promote racism, transphobia, homophobia, etc. will not be accepted.

All fics must be edited, beta read, and legible. All content must be thoroughly and appropriately tagged.

Code of Conduct 

Please be respectful of your fellow participants, including your mods. This event is designed to be inclusive regarding characters, ships, kinks, etc. and therefore we will not allow kinkshaming or ship/character bashing within event spaces. We are a diverse community and will not tolerate any racism, transphobia, homophobia, harassment, or general inappropriate behavior towards the mods or your fellow participants.

We want to ensure that all participants have a comfortable experience within the event. If your content or conduct does not align with the guidelines and the spirit of the bang, we will do everything possible to foster conversation and resolve the issue on a case-by-case basis. However, the final decision on how to proceed will ultimately be up to the mods. Please remember that the mods are fans just like you, doing this for fun in their spare time to share more Team Cap love.

What sort of content am I committing to if I sign up?

Authors will be required to create one original, cohesive story with a minimum of 10k words (no maximum). Artists will claim one or more stories (depending on the number of sign ups we receive, as well as artist interest) and create one piece inspired by that story. Each collab team will be required to create a banner for the master post as well.

What sort of artwork is acceptable?

All art must be visual, original art. By original art, we mean that the final product must be an original product of the artist. Using photos for reference is fine, and you can use whatever traditional or digital medium you require, so long as the art starts and finishes as your own product. Photo manips are allowed as long as they have been significantly edited, via Photoshop or other programs, to clearly resemble original art. Hit up the mods if you need clarity on an idea.

What ships are allowed?

Any prominent ships featured must include one or more characters from the MCU’s Team Cap or the Cap Quartet (Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanov, Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Scott Lang, Wanda Maximoff, and Sharon Carter.) They may be paired with any other characters, but the Team Cap character(s) should be the main focus of the story. Other than that note, we welcome any and all ships for the main pairings, including polyamorous ships, queerplatonic ships, and genfic. All side pairings are welcome as well.

What canons & universes are allowed?

Any canon or universe is allowed as long as it features one of the specified Team Cap characters. This includes any movies, comic runs, cartoons, etc. as well as non-canon AUs. So, if you wanted to write Planet Hulk Steve or Avengers Assemble Natasha or mermaid Sam, that’s perfectly acceptable!

Are there any age restrictions for participation?

Sorry, but yes. You’ve got to be 18 or over to participate.

Can I use a work that I’ve published previously, or that’s been sitting in my drafts for 3 years?

For this fest, we need all original content, none of which has been published previously. That being said, authors, if you’ve got an outline or a draft that’s been hanging around your WIP folder for too long, now’s the perfect time to dust it off and finish it! Since the art is meant to be inspired by the story, artists must start their work from scratch.

What if a friend and I want to work together?

Writing teams are welcome, but since claims will be anonymous, no author/artist team sign ups will be allowed.

How will claiming work?

Authors will create slides with information on their stories. Claims will take place at the halfway mark, and authors must have a minimum of 5k words written to be considered for claims.

The mods will compile the author submissions anonymously to share with the artists prior to claims. Once claims open, artists will submit their choices via Google forms.

Where are the submissions going to be hosted?

All submissions will be posted on AO3. We will also promote all creations on Tumblr and Twitter.

What if I can’t finish on time, will I get an extension?

We’ll have plenty of check-ins to make sure that you will indeed finish on time! If you’ve got any concerns, the mods will work with you to find a solution on a case-by-case basis. We will also enlist the help of artist pinch hitters if necessary. If you drop before claims, there will be no penalty; however if you ghost us after claims and leave your partner hanging, we’ll take that into account for participation in future events depending on the circumstances.

Can I post work-in-progress snippets on my personal blog?

Prior to claims, all snippets and sneak peeks must be shared anonymously on the starspangledbigbang account; the mods will assist in this process. Once claims are done, you will be able to announce your team and share snippets on your personal blog, as you create. Please keep snippets to 500 words or less, and roughly ⅓ or the artwork or less.

Can the fic &/or art also count towards a bingo fill?

Yes, we will allow cross-posting within bingo-style events, as long as your partner is comfortable. If your partner would prefer to keep your creation to this event only, then we would ask you to respect their wishes. We also ask that all cross-posting be done in good faith and within the spirit of our content and conduct guidelines.

I can’t sign up, but I still want to participate, what can I do?

No worries, there are lots of ways for you to help support the Big Bang! Follow us on Twitter and Tumblr; reblog, comment, and share our posts to spread the word. We’ll also be asking for help with beta reading, pinch hitting, and other cool ways for you to get involved!

Where can I find event info?

Info on the SSBB will be posted on Tumblr (@starspangledbigbang) and Twitter (@starspangledbb), with a collection on AO3. We will also have a Discord for participants.

Who are the mods?

Your friendly SSBB mods are bangyababy, Call_Me_Kayyyyy, HeyBoy, nachodiablo, and velociraptorerin.

I’ve got more questions, help!

No problem, we’re happy to hear from you! Ping us on one of the social media sites above, or email starspangledmods at gmail dot com.

(updated 07/09/2021)

[cno-inbminor]

wips that i’ve sat on for too long

it has been forever since i last posted anything, mainly because things have been extremely busy!! november is always such a shit month for school and i’ve procrastinated aka dug my own grave :) but here are a few snippets from wips, some that i may not ever finish but we’ll see ahahahaha

wip 1: sakusa wip 2: akaashi wip 3: semi (ipsum exitio) wip 4: mattsun 

request for sakusa based on lover by taylor swift

he likes the world in his control, knowing that there are many elements to which he can manipulate to his liking. sakusa isn’t egotistical enough to call the universe predictable -- after all, your unexpected landing in his life took him by surprise. and two years later, he feels he’s finally beginning to understand the meaning of ‘we’ and ‘us’. 

his world is no longer just his -- it’s both of yours now. and while it scared him the first year, there was a layer of trust underneath that soothed his worries. you had become synonymous with the things in his life that made him calm -- a warm bath, a fresh loofah, a lavender candle. it felt foreign to crave your presence next to him in his bed, or at any time throughout the day. he wanted to be by your side as much as possible, as if he had a sudden understanding of how time runs out. one day, he loses grasp of his tongue when you mention going to the grocery store, and blurts out, “can i go with you?”

there’s no doubt that shock has made itself known on your complexion. he can’t meet your eyes and stews in his embarrassment for having said something so seemingly out of character. but it only takes a few seconds for a small smile to grace your lips, the one that reminds him of just how lucky he is to be loved by you.

he’s already on his feet when you reply, “if you’d like to.”

request for pt. 2 of la la lost you ft. akaashi

more often than not, you haunt his dreams.

but perhaps he should rephrase. he welcomes your presence more than anything – more often than not, he enjoys waking up remembering that you’ve visited him in the dead of night. it allows him to forget that you’re no longer with him, or that he’s no longer trying to figure out when’s a good time to call and check up on you.

the pain disappears for a little bit, and then it settles neatly in the bottom of his heart, a tiny weight in his chest. no matter how much one of his coworkers drags him out and tries to set him up with someone, they’re never you. he’s always searching for your qualities in them and he feels terrible – they don’t deserve to be a rebound at all. and though you’re not on his lock screen (because he’s tired of the questions), you continue to occupy his home screen. all of your photos are stashed into a single folder, and he has to admit he opens it more than once a day.

it’s a slow healing process – he simply accepts that he’ll miss you for the rest of eternity, that he’ll never see your smile in front of the california sun again. you were never going to speak to him again besides perhaps birthdays and holidays, but they’d never be enough for him. the acceptance is solemn defeat, so you can only imagine the mixture of surprise, panic, and bewilderment when your custom ringtone blares throughout his office.

it isn’t a figment of his imagination to see your name on his screen, and before he loses his nerve and this rare opportunity to hear your voice again, he picks up, free hand slipping against some papers, and answers, “hello?”

“hey, keiji. how are you doing?”

ipsum exitio pt. 2 (pt. 1 here)

The hand by your waist suddenly grasped your chin between its thumb and index finger, preventing you from indulging in your previous thoughts. A quiet gasp escaped your lungs as you nearly shook. Your body thrummed with nerves and desperation, hoping that Eita would just give in to the selfish desires that were causing you to not think straight. “Eita, I—” you pleaded, unable to find the right words. The man responsible for everything you were feeling remained silent and appeared unfazed, though the tightening clasp of your chin said otherwise. “Please—”

“We’re going to leave this bed and do as we planned,” he interrupted, tone deep and commanding. You were now slave to his every whim, though you honestly couldn’t find any objections to that. “And if you’re good for me…” He trailed off, moving further down until his lips hovered right by your ear.

“I promise I’ll fill you up with my cock that you’re practically begging for. You can cum as much as you like, but I’ll have you begging for more.”  

His words in combination with the faint kiss against the shell of your ear tore a whimper from your throat, wetness pooling embarrassingly in your panties as you drank in his dark vow. Your heart thrashed against your chest so loudly that you almost missed his teasing laugh – you always knew that you were somewhat submissive, but to the degree that you were feeling now? The burning determination to be nothing but the best for the man that could probably have you on your knees in a heartbeat if he simply suggested it?

As he removed himself from you – though your body ached for his presence again – and you let him pull your quivering figure out of bed, your questions were answered by the warmth that flooded your body as a result of his praise: “Good girl.”

spy!au ft. matsukawa (tw: blood and violence mentions, implied character death)

“you think with all that time spent in the gym on your arms, they’d be useful right about now,” you whisper fondly. 

“shut up,” issei grits out between his teeth. his muscles are screaming from overuse, but god help him if this is the last thing he’ll do. 

the two of you are battered and much the worse for wear, sporting matching soot marks and body developing new bruises. dried, caked blood marks the side of issei’s face and though his gloves are still intact, yours had been discarded and misplaced, probably burnt to a crisp at this point. the friction of cloth against your scuffed palms causes you to wince. but there’s nothing you can do now, hanging over a cliff with nothing but issei’s grip to suspend you. 

it’s a battle that was won for the agency, but he feels nothing akin to victory in this moment. regret washes over him instead -- why didn’t he just let that guy go, why did he feel the need to sock him in the face with everything he had, when he could’ve preserved that strength to lift you up now? 

“makki’s coming, just hang in there, okay?” he bites out. a grimace forms because his shoulder is giving out, and your palm is starting to get sweaty. issei swivels his head over his shoulder and looks for any signs of agency help, but the sound of incoming motors are too far away. there’s not enough time--

“you need to let me go,” you advise, looking down beneath you. the river is a far ways away, you can barely make it out from here. and that only means one thing. 

“(y/n), shut the fuck up--”

“look at me, issei. look at me.”

he meets your eyes and immediately detests the look of defeat in them. they’re beginning to gloss over and absolutely contradict the upward curves of your lips. this is everything he was afraid of -- all that time, all that trust, building a connection with you amidst the chaos, and for what? for it all to end in some storm of ice and fire and you into a rushing stream? 

“it’s okay,” you comfort, but the tears down your face say it’s the complete opposite of okay. your hand is slipping and you can see how torn issei is, absolutely desperate to use every last second possible. help won’t come in time.

but you can’t leave him like this, not when you haven’t had the chance to say the three words you’ve always wanted to tell him. there had never been a good time to, not even in the nights with his body over yours atop the sheets and thrown into pleasure and escapism. perhaps it’s selfish on your end to part with those words. issei knowns you well enough at this point, and just by looking at your expression again, he knows it’s coming. this was the last way he wanted to hear them.

“don’t you fucking dare, (y/n). don’t you--”

there are promptly 2.8 seconds left as the contact is reduced to nothing but hanging by the fingertips. he hears nothing but your voice and his heartbeat. this is it.

“i love you.”

and his arm feels weightless.