#yes this will be referenced in future fics of mine

[tinyhousegirl]

Headcanon that Tyler got his EMT certification one off-season and works part-time as an EMT in Arkansas. He was grateful for the ones who kept him alive with every bull riding injury and needed something to do during the winter when the channel was mostly offline.

It comes in handy when they’re out chasing and one of his crew gets hurt, or he swoops in to help after a town is razed to the ground. He works to triage smaller injuries and things they can do in the field.

It’s especially handy when he meets Kate Carter, because he’s finally met his match and then some. She lives her life by throwing herself into tornadoes like a maniac (he’s a professional maniac, she’s just insane). Every time he pulls her from a car he goes through his ‘Tyler Triage’ checklist, as the team has called it.

His checklist however does not triage heart attacks, which he thinks will be in his future by falling in love with Kate.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Malleus's enchantment on Lilia's gag glasses definitely wouldn't work on his own grandmother, would it? XD

Maleficia "There you are, Lilia. I was only just conversing with your human child on your whereabouts. It has been long since I have last seen you, my most trusted— What... are you wearing?"

[Referencing this fic!]

If Malleus could easily wave off Vil’s magic, then Maleficia can do the same for Malleus’s magic 😂

There's a part in this interaction where Maleficia switches from using "I" to "we"--that's the English royal "we" (pluralis majestatis). Historically, it's been used to invoke the divine right of rulers to speak for their state. I wanted to use it for a brief line to emphasize her serious tone.

***Note: foreshadowing for book 7 (so there are spoilers!!)***

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

"So good to see you, your majesty." Lilia bowed to the woman in regal black robes. His tone was lighthearted, even as he addressed the queen of his country. "You've spoken with Silver? I do hope he was on his best behavior."

"As always." Maleficia allowed herself a smile. To most, it would make their skin crawl with discomfort. To Lilia, it was the grace of a close companion. "It has been long since I have last seen you, my most trusted—"

She slightly startled when he lifted his head. Her mouth twitching, pupils dilating, as the rest of her face remained unchanged. "What... are you wearing?"

"Oh? You're curious about these?" Lilia fiddled with his frames. He was careful to not entirely remove them from his face, lest he cast off his magical disguise. The faux hairs that made up a pair of bushy eyebrows and a mustache tickled his skin, the big rubber nose flopping about.

"Surely it's not a human fashion statement," Maleficia said with the lift of an arched brow, "though you have always been one to experiment with your appearance. Why, I still remember how you wore your hair back in the day. Long, with stripes as red as blood."

"That was quite a while ago." It was the look most iconic to his oldest friends—and his oldest enemies. Memories that tasted of both sugar and salt churned in his mind. "No, this isn't a new fashion trend, just a little something Malleus whipped up for me so that I could attend Family Day with everyone."

"Malleus did? I knew the magic felt familiar," Maleficia chuckled. Tendrils of the enchantment bounced harmlessly off her, illusive wisps flickering between her fingers. "My grandson still has much to learn in the way of spellcasting before he can pull one over my eyes. He chose such a humorous item to enchant as well."

"The choice was mine. We share the blame for the spell's design. Ah, but isn't it odd? Despite these odd circumstances, we still find ourselves making many happy memories."

"How kind of Malleus to grant you a blessing that brings such good fortune. You won't have to sit out on the festivities this year."

"He has a big heart, that boy. He didn't wish for me to be by my lonesome—and I'm eternally grateful for it. Thanks to Malleus, I can be with Silver on this momentous occasion.

"Someday soon, the day will come where I can no longer be by his side." Lilia clasped both hands over his heart. The joy in his voice was undeniably touched with sorrow. "This time we have together now, as father and son... it's something I'll always treasure."

Maleficia frowned. "Lilia, you don't mean to say..."

"You know what I speak of, yes? The time that comes for us all eventually."

She solemnly nodded. "I did not think it would be so soon. Before long, the sun will set on our time, and it will rise again at the dawn of a new era, one led by the next generation. Our legacies, paving the future of Briar Valley.

“Malleus will succeed me. Your child will age, perhaps have children of his own. Baul's grandchildren too."

Lilia laughed--soft and bittersweet. "They grow up so fast, don't they?"

"Extremely."

"Fufu, you must be so excited to see how Malleus has grown then."

"I am, however..." Maleficia's brows suddenly furrowed. "I must confess, I did not visit today only to see my grandson. I also wished to personally inquire about your health while I had the opportunity.”

The question threw Lilia off his tempo. He flinched, then hurried to find his footing again. His cheer, a mask.

"Come now, I know I may be getting up there in age, but I'm not quite senile yet—nor am I chomping at the bit for retirement. I'm as spry as I ever was." He hopped a few steps ahead, back to her. “You see? I’m…”

"Lilia," Maleficia said patiently, her words warning. "You are deliberately avoiding my question. As our vassal, we command you to answer us. How does your magic fare?”

To this, Lilia hesitated, biting his lower lip. "I don’t want to lie to you, but… I also don’t want to tell the whole truth. It is not within a warrior’s spirit to show their weaknesses, not even to friends and family.”

“You needn’t pretend with me.”

“I know. I know, and that is exactly why I can’t bring myself to face you. Not in the state I’m in.” The wind extended a cool hand to caress Lilia’s cheek. He looked into the horizon, at the outline of Night Raven’s main building reaching up high to pierce the clouds. “The last thing I wish for in this world is to be the cause of sadness for my loved ones.”

“Do they know?”

Lilia shook his head. “Not yet. I plan to when we third years meet to discuss internships. The longer I stay, the harder it will be to let go. I must cut the cord then and there. Until then…”

He turned to the side, his profile outlined by the rays of the sun. Hope seeping through the darkness that had eclipsed his face. “I’ll enjoy the life I have left here to its fullest. I ask that you recognize this as my final wish, your ma… no, Maleficia.”

“Lilia…”

“Please.”

"... By the Seven,” the queen sighed, “I shall never become accustomed to those silly spectacles on you. To wear such a dress while making a request to a higher authority… that is something only you would dare to do, Lilia.”

She folded her arms, her long sleeves falling into place with the motion. “You have loyally served your country as both a skilled general and as a wise advisor. You are a dear friend, an irreplaceable individual, yet it is also you who would be so audacious as to deny me the truth I seek.

“… So be it. By the powers vested in me as Queen of Briar Valley, it shall be done.” Maleficia lifted a hand, as if imbibing her decree with power. “You secret will be safe with me.”

He hurriedly glanced away, blinking back tears. Happiness? Sadness? He didn’t know from where they came.

“Thank you.” Lilia choked on his words. He tried again. “Thank you for understanding.”

Her reply came as dry teasing.

“No tears. If they flow, you’ll have to remove those spectacles to mop up, and your disguise will be dispelled.” Maleficia’s eyes crinkled with quiet laughter.

“Today is a celebration of family. Let us put aside our woes for the future and unusual eyewear, and relish in the present with our cherished children. That is a direct order from me to you, Lilia. I won’t have my subject’s smile wavering in my presence.”

He chortled. The small sound evolved, shaping itself into an awkward laugh. Fully formed, but still shaky at its edges.

Lilia faced the queen, dropping to a kneel. His head lowered, he played out the role of a faithful knight reporting to his sovereign.

“Yes, your majesty! As you command.”

[cha-melodius]

I got a list, so you get a list. 4, 11, 20 (please take this as permission to answer 20 as many times as you want, I LOVE LOVE LOVE writer meta)

xoxo MJ/kiwiana-writes

Ahahaha I will always take a list!! Thanks! You're out here with some ones that made me have to think for a little while lol. (Meta asks for writers link since there's a cut at the end of this post.)

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

Pretty sure I've shared this before in a question like this, but too bad. I just love the tension that builds in this sequence (and the release that comes immediately after this; spoiler alert: Alex runs). From Chapter 7 of Nova, Baby:

Diego chokes out a fake laugh, but there is real fear in his eyes now. “I’m sure I do not know what you’re talking about. You know my customers are never for sale.” “So it wasn’t money, then,” Alex surmises. It’s not that surprising. Batista is good at hitting people where it hurts. Diego says nothing. “How long do I have?” Alex asks. Out in front of the store, a car door slams. “Better for you if you don’t run,” Diego murmurs. Fat chance of that.

11. What do you envy in other writers?

Oh, a number of things. The biggest ones are probably humor—I think my writing can be reasonably funny but not the kind of side-splitting hysterical one-liners some people pull off—and really poetic, beautiful language. Sometimes when I read a really achingly beautiful work I feel like giving up lmao. Oh, and some people just seem to be able to pull off effortlessly sexy writing—not even talking about smut here, but just the overall vibes of the work. I mean, it's probably not effortless, knowing what I know about writing, but it feels that way.

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

Oh man, the meta question. I do love talking about meta in my writing but I never know which fic to pick when people ask me these questions. Ok, this time, instead of focusing on one work, I'm including one piece of trivia about the last 5 works I published lmao.

The post-blowjob scene in Falling Down the Stairs of Your Smile was added at the last minute (literally I had already uploaded a draft to AO3 before I went back and added it) because I just got it in my head that I really needed a moment of Henry telling Alex to stay. I love thinking about all the ways that would fundamentally change their relationship from the beginning.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, I did a fair amount of reading about people surviving on rafts in the ocean for Enemies of the Ocean. There are lots of crazy stories out there, and one of them—Steve Callahan—is referenced in the fic. The most insane part about THAT is that Callahan's boat was called the Napoleon Solo. Yes, really. Too bad the story was for a different fandom.

The sir/daddy pronouns joke in Something To Be Proud Of, which several commenters loved, was shamelessly stolen from @dumbpeachjuice. See! I'm not actually that funny. 😂

I really wanted them to get caught in the rain wearing less clothing in Lessons in Foreign Diplomacy (by which I mean wearing only a shirt and pants and not a full waistcoat and jacket combo), but @orchidscript disabused me of the notion that anyone would be strolling the grounds in such scandalous attire lol.

Although I have in fact visited the Harrods Food Hall, I have eaten only one of the cheeses featured in Will You Brie Mine? (manchego), to my deep disappointment. Someone get me some monk's head cheese, stat. Also I went back and forth about whether to make Henry a baker or confectioner or something of the sort, but the man gives cheese recommendations in canon! How could I resist?

[bambirex]

The World Is Yours, If You Seek The Good: Chapter 12

Pairings: Geraskefer, Yennskier, Geraskier, Yenralt

Characters: Jaskier, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt of Rivia, Ciri of Cintra, Lambert

Additional tags: implied/referenced abuse, forced pregnancy, mpreg, creature fic, fae Jaskier, creature Jaskier, creature Yennefer, captivity, enemies to friends to lovers, polyamory, found family, hurt/comfort, it starts out angsty but it will get better, completely made up lore, fertility issues, completely made up skills and powers, angst, angst with a happy ending, whump, Jaskier whump, Yennefer whump, intersex Jaskier, Ciri whump, Geralt whump, blood, nightmares, injury, wound care

Rating: mature

Full word count: 37,220 words

Chapter word count: 2,989 words

Chapters: 12/?

Summary: Used and abused by humans, Jaskier and Yennefer believe they are alone and with no reason to trust anybody. That is, until they meet each other - and then, a couple of other strange misfits.

Chapter summary: Jaskier and Yennefer have a heart to heart that helps the both of them get over their fears and doubts. Geralt teaches Ciri some important things.

Author's notes: MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING for a lot of pregnancy talk in this chapter, especially leaning into the forced/unwanted side of it, so if that's something that makes you uncomfortable, please, skip this chapter or at least the first half of it for your own sake!

Read on Ao3

*

Positioning his lute against his growing belly was getting harder and harder to do each day. The first time he experienced a pregnancy, Jaskier felt tremendously sad over this, since playing his instrument and singing along was one of the only small comforts in his life while he was in captivity. He wanted to bash his lute against the wall, claw his stomach open and tear himself from the inside out when it first happened. He screamed and cried and mourned the life that was taken away from him.

It never got any easier, but his emotions dulled enough for it to be a bit more bearable. He became desensitized to the discomfort, to the alien feeling of being a guest inside his own body. Jaskier could barely remember a time when it truly belonged to only him.

Strangely, now as he struggled to place his lute over the parts of his lap that weren't yet covered by his bump, he laughed. Something that used to be so humiliating, was now almost endearing. Somehow, he didn't hate the child growing within him.

He was never allowed to think of them as children because he knew he would get too attached, then, and it would hurt all the more when he had to give them away to the humans. He thought of them as invaders of his body, as things that were put in there for someone else's needs. He had to, because it made it easier to handle the heartache of seeing yet another baby ripped out of his arms. They were never his, not even for a fleeting moment.

Jaskier didn’t know what the future had in store for him, but he was certain he was never going back to Master. He would rather die than live like that again, as a pretty decoration, an entertaining toy. He found something that finally gave meaning to his sad, lonely life. Maybe it was too soon to say, but Jaskier felt like he's found himself a family. And he didn't want to leave them.

He felt a small kick against his belly and he chuckled.

"What, you like my misery? You find it funny that I can't play properly?"

Another kick. Jaskier ran his hand over the place where he felt the little feet. He swallowed when he felt them press against his hand.

"I don't know what to think of you," Jaskier told the baby honestly, rubbing over his swollen stomach. "What am I allowed to call you? Are you mine? Kick once for no, twice for yes."

Nothing happened. Jaskier chuckled at his own silliness. Then, two little kicks in quick succession. Jaskier's eyes welled with tears.

"Don't lie to me," Jaskier whispered, "I can't handle it if you're just joking."

He heard the soft sound of someone clearing their throat. He looked up to see Yennefer standing in the doorway, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other.

"Hey," Jaskier greeted her, forcing a smile through his tears. Yennefer stared at him for a few seconds with an unreadable expression, before she spoke.

"Hi. You okay?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Jaskier chuckled. "Just, uh, talking to myself. No big deal."

"You weren't talking to yourself," Yennefer pointed out as she walked inside the room. "You were talking to the baby."

"Fine, maybe I was," Jaskier held his hands up in defeat. "Ciri is downstairs cooking with Geralt. I'm bored."

"You could have joined us," Yennefer told him. She sat on the bed. "Geralt was asking about you."

"Oh," Jaskier felt his cheeks warm up. He shrugged with a sheepish smile. "He must be wondering why I'm not eating everything in his house for once."

"He likes you," Yennefer said, her smile genuine. "And I think you like him, too."

"Well, you can't deny he's a gorgeous hunk of a man, Yennefer."

"It's more than that."

Jaskier snorted softly. "Then I guess I'm not alone with that. I've seen how you look at him, too. You can't deny you've warmed up to the witcher."

The flush on Yennefer's cheeks, and her fleeting smile made Jaskier grin.

"Thought so."

"Shut up, you moron," Yennefer scoffed, her cheeks still pink.

She looked down on Jaskier's stomach, her small smile fading. Jaskier bit his lip. He knew what it meant. She tried to hide it, but she always looked at him that way. There was a deep ache, a longing in her eyes.

There was a time when Jaskier thought he and Yennefer would never get along well. There was a time where he thought that being from such vastly different species, they would never find common ground. And yet, there was a bond between them, which got deeper and deeper as they went through all the horrible things back at their owner - and now, they were going through something else together, something lovely. At the bottom of it all, there was him, a chatty fae who fell in love with a sassy witch. And he may have not known what exactly did Yennefer feel for him, he knew she trusted and cared for him.

He knew about the pain Yennefer hid under her angry exterior, the loneliness and the loss. And like he's promised her he would try and make sure she would get through things okay when she was dragged home from the market all those months ago, he was more than ready to keep caring for her the way she deserved.

And that care had to come with honesty.

"I know you think it's a gift," Jaskier started. He cupped his belly, Yennefer's eyes following his movements. She swallowed audibly.

"That I can carry children."

"It looks like that to me," Yennefer replied honestly. "I can't do that. I wish I could."

"It would be a gift, I think. If I was allowed to do it on my own terms."

He took a deep breath. The baby shifted in him again, as if trying to calm him.

"I was very young when I had the first child. I was terrified. I wasn't prepared. And I did not want it, not like that, with the knowledge it's not really mine. That they would be taken away at the end."

His throat tightened painfully. He felt Yennefer's eyes on him all the while.

"You carry them inside your body for months, but you don't get to cherish it. The kicks, the little movements... they do not belong to you. Your body... it's not yours anymore. It's a vessel for someone else. And you go through all that pain, that discomfort, completely alone. Not with a mate to hold your hand, not with a family to have your back. You have a heartless Master who only checks on you to make sure you would deliver a healthy product. That's what he called them. The babies. He called them products."

He blinked against the tears in his eyes. He heard Yennefer take in a sharp, shaky breath.

"I don't hate being pregnant," Jaskier explained quietly. "I guess I did, in the beginning, but only because it was forced on me. I wanna have a baby. A child. I do. I wanna know what it's like to bring my own child into this world, to myself and people that would care about them. But I never had that, and I kept brushing it under the rug but Yennefer, I hate that I never had that."

When he looked up, he noticed Yennefer's eyes were shiny with tears. It made his composure crumble even more.

"I was much lonelier than I let on. And then... you came along."

He gave Yennefer a wobbly smile. "You, and your strormy violet eyes, your death threats and your constant hissing. Your acidic insults and your thinly masked self-loathing that manifested in hatred for everyone. You... and your lonely, hurt heart. You and your emotions that you weren't allowed to feel. The kindness, the love, the gentleness in you. The beauty that was not dangerous, but soft. Something that deserved to be cherished."

A tear ran down Yennefer's face as she told him to stop it. But Jaskier wasn't finished.

"I love you, Yennefer," he told her as he wiped at his eyes with a wet little laugh. "You're my exact opposite and yet, you are just like me. Lonely. Used and abused by humans. Abandoned and humiliated. You came along and it was like looking into a mirror. I don't know what this thing is between us, but I know I never want to lose it."

He reached for Yennefer's hand carefully. Yennefer immediately squeezed his without hesitation.

"And then we met Ciri. This brave girl who's suffered like us, whose heart remained kind and pure despite what she's been through. A true inspiration. A wonderful child. The first child that maybe... will stick around. I love her. Like she's my child, and that's silly, right? But it's true. I care about her. And I don't care who wants to get their dirty hands on her, I won't let them. I will grow a whole forest around them and bury them under the trees before I'd let them hurt her."

"Who knew you had such a violent streak in you," Yennefer chuckled softly. Jaskier shook his head.

"You bring this out of me. Not violence, but... bravery. Something I lacked before. Geralt... he's making me brave, too. Because I see this man, who isn't even supposed to feel anything and yet he feels so much. He's a wonderful father, a great friend... so much more human than the ones who call themselves such. He's strong, not just in his body, but in his heart. He would do everything to protect his daughter, and now us. And it means a lot to me. That he had no reason to trust us, but he still does, that he's willing to put everything aside to keep everyone safe. I love him."

Tears fell onto his shirt, soaking the soft material as he looked down on his stomach.

"And this baby...I don't know, for the first time in my life, I think maybe I'll get to keep them? They might be a part of me that will finally stay. I want them to. I want them to be mine. I feel like after we escaped our owner, we all got a new life. And I want this life to be great, I want to share that life with you and Geralt and Ciri and maybe this baby, too... because I think I love this baby."

He broke down sobbing, wringing an arm over his face. He felt arms wrap around him and pull him close, fingers threading through his hair soothingly. He buried his face in Yennefer's chest as she shushed him.

"Thank you," Yennefer whispered, her own tears falling onto Jaskier's head. "Thank you, for telling me this. It means a lot, you know? Because I envied you so much for being able to get pregnant. I hated you for it. My own body did not belong to me either. It never did. It was used like yours. And it was hollow. Devoid of the things yours had. I always wanted to create something but the humans made sure I never could."

She pulled back to cup Jaskier's face, gently making him look into her eyes.

"But you know what? Fuck the humans. Fuck everyone who made us feel like we weren't worthy. Who told us we were only useful for our womb, or who made us feel like shit for the lack of it. Because we both create beautiful things, Jaskier. Look at us! Look at what we have together! Look at what we're doing with Ciri, with Geralt! It may not be much, but it means something, right?"

"Right," Jaskier sniffled. He let himself lean into Yennefer's touch as she gently wiped his tears away with her thumb.

"I never thought I'd have this," Yennefer admitted. She pressed her forehead against Jaskier's, taking a deep breath.

"I thought I would be alone all my life. And I kept saying I was fine with that, because who would ever love me, anyway? I was called scary, dangerous, hideous... I never had a bond with anyone. The closest to it was another drepima. We spent like, what, four days together? I did like her. But then she was beaten to death. And I promised myself I would never get attached to anyone. My kind isn't cut out for that."

"You never told me about this," Jaskier said quietly. Yennefer swallowed.

"I know. I only just told Geralt about it, too. He was the one that pointed out that it may have hurt me more than I let on. I believed I wasn't deserving of care, of friendship, love... of a family. And I genuinely did not like you in the beginning."

Jaskier chuckled. "Yeah, that much was obvious."

"I hated you for being everything I couldn't be, and I hated you for still being so kind to me. It scared me. To be treated with care. I wanted to keep you away from me, but... I love you too, you little asshole. You've grown on me like a particularly clingy, annoying moss, and you know what? I'm fine with that. And I'm fine with sticking with you. And Ciri... she does feel like a child to me, too. Something I thought I could never have. Geralt... yes, I do love him. He's different from what I imagined him to be. All my life, I've been surrounded by hatred and fear. Chaos and destruction. Now... now, it feels like I'm building something. A family, maybe."

"You deserve a family, Yen," Jaskier told her, the nickname slipping out easily. Yennefer didn't seem to mind, if her smile was anything to go by.

"We all deserve a family. I know I probably can't get my own back. I'm not sure they're even alive. But that does not mean I have to be alone, right? We could be a family. The four of us."

"Five," Yennefer corrected him softly. Jaskier noticed she was looking at his stomach again - and for the first time, instead of the painful longing and envy, he saw something else in her eyes. Something like awe.

"Can I..." Yennefer whispered, her smile wobbling, "would you mind if I...?"

"No," Jaskier replied softly. He took Yennefer's shaking hands and guided them to his belly. Yennefer took in a sharp breath as she placed her palm over the swell of Jaskier's belly.

"How do you feel?" Jaskier asked her. Yennefer opened her mouth, but no words came out. Then, she smiled again, bright and genuine. Jaskier's heart fluttered at the sight.

"Great," Yennefer replied earnestly. She let out a soft gasp along with Jaskier when the baby kicked again, fluttering excitedly against Jaskier's skin.

"They like you," Jaskier grinned. Yennefer laughed through her tears as she gently caressed the curve of his belly, making the baby kick and roll inside him again.

The sight of Yennefer smiling as she held his belly was everything to him. It was beautiful, genuine. It was perfect.

"Yen," he whispered, causing her to look up at him curiously. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," Yennefer replied without hesitation. Jaskier gently cupped her cheeks as he leaned in and pressed their lips together. Yennefer's hands remained on his belly as she kissed him back happily, melting into him.

--

Ciri could barely believe her ears when Geralt told her it was time for her to learn some swordsmanship. She's been begging him for ages to teach her how to fight, but Geralt always refused, claiming it was better if she stayed out of trouble.

"What changed now?" She asked, curiously watching Geralt packing away their food and grabbing two swords. He handed Ciri the lighter one with a smile.

"I decided to stop being dishonest with you," Geralt told her. He placed a hand on her back as he led her outside. "Now you know everything about yourself. You know why I said the world was a dangerous place. You were right when you said you're stronger than anyone in this house. Not just because of your powers."

He placed his left foot forward and drew out his sword, motioning for Ciri to do the same. Ciri stood next to him and mimicked his movements.

"I will keep protecting you," Geralt promised as he swung his sword around in the air, deliberately slowing his movements down so Ciri could easily copy him. "But that does not mean you should be kept from protecting yourself. Yennefer will help you control your powers, and I can help show you how to fight even when you can't rely on them."

Ciri grinned at him. There was something different about Geralt now: he was a bit less stoic, a bit more open. Ciri wondered if revealing her family's history was what did this to him, or his clearly growing feelings for Yennefer and Jaskier. It was perhaps a combination of both.

"We're supposed to be training," Geralt reminded her as he caught her staring. Ciri laughed.

"I'm sorry. I'm just happy, you know? Things are so scary now, but you're making them okay."

She placed her sword down on the ground and hugged Geralt tightly. Geralt wrapped his arms around her in return.

"We're all gonna be okay, right?" She asked against Geralt's chest. Geralt hummed as he gently ruffled her hair.

"I'll make sure of it," he promised. "We all will. No matter what happens, we won't abandon each other."

"That includes Jaskier and Yennefer too, right?" Ciri asked, looking up at Geralt hopefully. Geralt smiled.

"Of course."

Ciri put her head back on his chest with a happy smile. Right now, no matter how uncertain the future may looked, she truly believed they would all be okay.

[childlikegoblinqueen]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @fairytales-and-folklore♥️ No pressure tags: @immortalmint @threegoblinart @unniebeans @fenth-eiria @rfswitchart @gakriele-lvs-blog @twogoldenflowers ... it's early so whomever I missed I am sorry!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?: Right now 16!

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 526,571

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently I am in full TOH brain rot mode. In the past I have written for HP (Ick. I know. I didn't back then.) Tenchi Muyo, Gundam Wing, Princess Bride and Scream. Also in a way Stranger Things. More on that later. (No I will not be posting where my other fics can be found! Sorry!)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Sweet Child O' Mine , Words like Violence , The Future's Overdue, Back to the Beginning where I feel Forgiven. Stranger Tides

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes!!!!! I adore hearing readers thoughts and theories etc. it feeds me and I try to engage with commenters when I can.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I suppose Words like Violence.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ohhhhhhh! I feel like it was You Strange as Angels -- Maybe it's just me? I swear Sweet Child O' Mine will have a happy ending!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Meh. A bit? I wouldn't call it hate on current fics. Some folks don't love the direction I go with fave characters -- or the ship I mainly write in. I got hate on some of my older fics but they were posted on a different site. Ao3 seems a bit more tame than other fic sites.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I kinda wish I could? Maybe one day? It would likely be emotional fluff and angst smut.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? OHHHH Yes. And while I won't really mention all of them (again, not revisiting my past writing) Stranger Tides is by far my favorite and my craziest! It's a TOH fic set in the human realm between Kings Tide and Thanks to Them. Basically, the Hexsquad begins watching Stranger Things to pass the time and try to recreate Joyce Byer's Christmas Lights method to contact the Demon Realm. Aspects of TOH and ST begin to blend together for Luz, Vee, and Hunter as they begin bonding as siblings and identifying with the various characters. Lots of great Camila moments too.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, but I believe I've had headcanons referenced, which is cool!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

YES! One of the fics I wrote under my other alias years ago. It was INSANE when I found out.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yep. Under my other alias.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? (S)

Just one?

Huntlow, Korrasami, Lumity, Raeda, Aziraphale X Crowley (what's their official ship name?), SkorFuma, BoldenLoin (Not sure id that's Ambrosias and Bal's shit name but it is to me!) McKinley and Ben from Wet Hot American Summer :D

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I am a completist and will finish everything. I do have an idea for a follow up to Sweet Child though, but I can't really think about how that would go until I finish SCOM.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I've been told I am good at portraying emotion and making my writing feel like it's canon?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I over complicate things. I am a thriller/horror/suspense fan so that's how I roll. I like stories with twists and lots of red herrings.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I try to be as responsible with it as I can. I'm not perfect by any means.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Tenchi Muyo

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

It was Stranger Tides -- but I am still really in love with writing Sweet Child O' Mine .

Thank said, You Strange as Angels makes me giddy.

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @marimbles! ♥️ No pressure tags: @litfeathers @lollytea @ashanimus @greyhavenisback @princecharmingwinks @tails89 @nutellarghh @ash-mcj @childlikegoblinqueen @daydreams-and-honeybees @avatarmerida @asarcasticwitch @sailahina @secretly-of-course @sapphic--kiwi @haystarlight @zyrafowe-sny @peachytea04 @slightecho

1. How many works do you have on AO3? just hit 100 last month!

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 479,814

3. What fandoms do you write for? I've dabbled in quite a few over the years, but the ones I've written the most fics for are doctor who (eleven/amy) teen wolf (sterek) and the owl house (huntlow)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Error 404: Brain Cell Not Found (teen wolf | sterek) You Always Want What You're Running From (sleepy hollow | ichabbie) What To Do When Your Emotionally Constipated Werewolf Boyfriend Gets Cursed By A Witch: A Guide (teen wolf | sterek) Gold Rush (the owl house | huntlow) Lovesick (the owl house | huntlow) 5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I do! Every kind comment means so much to me, so I always take the time to respond to all of them (though I'm not always great at getting to them on time.)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm probably The Courtesan and the Writer (doctor who | eleven/amy) I used to dabble in angst a bit more when I first started writing fic, but these days all my fics are pretty much guaranteed to have a happy ending, because real life is hard enough lol

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Pretty much all my fics have happy endings, but one of the happiest I wrote would probably be my huntlow college AU Until You Meet Someone Who Makes The Fall Feel Like Flying

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I wouldn't call it outright hate, but I have gotten a handful of rude comments over the years (complaining that I don't post often enough, telling me my headcanons are wrong, telling me how they think my story should have ended — one time someone yelled at me in all caps because I said that a character chilled red wine lol that one was wild)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! Smut is fun. Mine is typically more focused on the emotional aspect than the physical, is usually the result of a long tension-fueled slow burn buildup, and is usually tooth-rottingly fluffy, soft, and sweet.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have! Back in the days where superwholock plagued tumblr, I wrote one of the silliest cross-overs imaginable, combining doctor who, torchwood, bbc sherlock, supernatural, the avengers, and sleepy hollow: Lords, Gods, and Madmen

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yup 🙃

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have! But most of them never saw the light of day 😂 one that did is called An Eggcellent Morning For Cooking Lessons co-written with @ash-mcj @tails89 and @nutellarghh

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I think my top three ships are reflected in who I've written the most fic for: huntlow, sterek, and the eleventh doctor/amy pond

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Luckily, everything that's posted to AO3 is finished, but at this point I'm thinking I'll probably never get around to writing the little nightmares, reylo, and captain swan WIPs I've had sitting in my drafts since 2019

16. What are your writing strengths?

I've been told I capture the characters really well, which means a lot to me. I've also been told that my writing is cozy and comforting and fills people with warm fuzzy feelings, which is always nice to hear 🥰

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I will sit there and agonize over the same paragraph trying to make it sound perfect instead of just letting the writing flow, so sometimes a fic will be in the works for a very long time until it's finally ready to be posted (by which time I'm probably sick of it and never want to look at it again 😂)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've dabbled in this a little bit, but it's usually been plot-relevant, like a character learning to speak the language (i.e. when Hunter tried to learn Spanish in Being Human.) When I do write in another language, I always do my best to research and try to get the translations as accurate as possible, and I always include the English translation either in the fic itself or as an author's note so readers don't have to break away from my fic to google anything. (And also so that they know what my intention was, on the off-chance I translated something wrong and accidentally wrote something offensive.) 19. First fandom you wrote for?

Does anyone remember that vampire show that came out back in like 2009? Moonlight? Yeah, that one lol

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? God, that's like asking me to pick my favorite child. Okay fine, it's Until You Meet Someone Who Makes The Fall Feel Like Flying

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

Madam Yu starts loving Wei Wuxian and showing anything like remotely well intended affection toward Jiang Cheng in fix it fics, HAHAHAHAHAHA (breaths) Hahahaha!

After all of that, let me explain why this would not work considering even before the fall of Lotus Pier and her death she had hated Wei Wuxian the moment he had been saved by Jiang Fengmian as well as instilling that Jiang Cheng was only worth as much as his title as Sect Heir of Yunmeng Jiang. They also contrast the ideologies between Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu that were never understood by the other, mirroring the underlying resentment from a forced bond and the overall message that love can not be the only factor with peaceably accepting another person as your equal and confidant.

Madam Yu convinced herself that Wei Wuxian was usurping the position of power that Jiang Cheng held all because Jiang Fengmian had taken a shine to a child that was naturally good willed and bright. She purposely uses this as a tactic to drive a wedge between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian.

She derides her son while continuing to insist he is still above others leading to his complex of superiority and his jealousy of never being able to please her or his father. His lack of actual good will towards others (like his mother who ignored smaller night hunts to help commoners) leads to his father's lecture of not understanding what the Yunmeng Jiang motto really is, " 明知不可为而为之". Usually this is translated just as "to attempt the impossible" which is correct technically, but the full meaning of this really works better as "knowing you fight against impossible odds to do what is right".

Jiang Cheng went to her side. Madam Yu squeezed his arm with her slender fingers, then slapped his shoulder loudly, scolding, “There’s isn’t any improvement in your cultivation at all. You’re seventeen already, yet you’re still like an ignorant child, fooling around with others all the time. Are you the same as others? Who knows which sewers other people will be splashing in, but you’re going to be the leader of the Jiang Sect!”

At the same time she also uses these same insults against Wei Wuxian. However, he is confident in his own skills and talents which is a confidence she herself despises thinking he is unworthy as a servant's son or the son of a rogue cultivator with no clan ties to have a right to that level of cultivation and sees it as a slight against her authority. Neither can do right in her eyes whether they listen faithfully or question her meanings.

Madam Yu, “Wei Ying, what trouble are you stirring up this time?”

Wei WuXian stepped forward, accustomed to it. Madam Yu scolded, “You’re like this again! If you yourself don’t seek progress, then don’t drag Jiang Cheng along to fool around with you. You’re going to be a bad influence to him.”

Wei WuXian looked startled, “I don’t seek progress? Why, am I not the one with the most progress in the entire Lotus Pier?”

Young people were never too patient. They wouldn’t feel satisfied unless they talked back. Hearing this, an air of hostility seemed to form around Madam Yu’s brow.

Jiang Cheng wordlessly and obediently takes the reprimand, head down and silent, deferring to her. Wei Wuxian however arrogant it may seem, talks back questioning what she means that he has not progressed when he has the talent to show. This is early foreshadowing to their exact stances during the Wen Indoctrination.

Jiang Cheng held Wei WuXian firmly. Wei WuXian asked with a lowered voice, “What are you holding me down for?”

Jiang Cheng snorted, “Don’t do unnecessary things.”

He didn’t know why, but all of the boys sent from the GusuLan Sect looked somewhat pallid. Lan WangJi’s face was especially pale, but his expression was still as frosted as usual, distancing him from everyone else. The sword Bichen on his back, he stood alone, with nobody around him. Wei WuXian had wanted to go up to him and say hello, but Jiang Cheng warned him, “Don’t cause any trouble!”

MianMian knew that if she was hung up, she probably wouldn’t be able to come back down alive. She tried to run away, but wherever she fled, the people dispersed around her. Just as Wei WuXian twitched, Jiang Cheng held him firmly down. MianMian suddenly noticed that two people remained still. She hid behind their backs at once, shivering.

The two were Jin ZiXuan and Lan WangJi.

With the rescue of Mianmian and Wei Wuxian staying to protect Lan Wangji (who had protected Mianmian in turn despite repercussions) gained the attention of Wen Chao and his ire all of which Jiang Cheng kept ordering Wei Wuxian not to do. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are thrust into the role of the Jiang leaders stance of morality. Wei Wuxian, and by mention Lan Wangji, have done a unimaginable feat along with embodying the traits that Jiang Fengmian admires. As both did the impossible along with doing what was right in the protection of MianMian and Wei Wuxian staying to aid Lan Wangji.

Wei WuXian, “Those Wen dogs are talking nonsense, they have no face. Lan Zhan was clearly the one who killed it.”

Jiang FengMian gave him a smile, “Really? What a coincidence. The second young master of the Lan Sect told me that you were the one who killed it. So who was it, really?”

Wei WuXian, “I guess both of us did something. But he was the main one. I only went into the beast’s shell and chased it out. Lan Zhan was waiting for it alone outside. It only died after it dragged on for six entire hours.”

He described to Jiang Cheng and his father the things that had happened during the past few days. Jiang Cheng’s expression was complicated after he had finished listening. He only spoke a while later, “It’s pretty much the same as what Lan WangJi said. So it seems that both of you killed it together. What’s yours is yours. Why would you give him all the credit?”

Wei WuXian, “I didn’t. I just feel that, compared to him, I really didn’t do much.”

Jiang FengMian nodded, “Well done.”

He was able to kill a four-hundred-year-old beast at the mere age of seventeen. It was much more than a ‘well done’.

Jiang Cheng, “Congratulations.”

The tone of his congratulations sounded quite strange.

Jiang Cheng is once again faced with the reality that despite doing as his mother wanted, he is met with the reprimands of his father who does place loyalty and friendship in the face of dangers. Interestingly, the way Wei Wuxian defends Jiang Cheng mirrors the excuses that Jiang Fengmian had given for Madam Yu's harsh words and rumors about himself.

Jiang Cheng, “It served you right to be bored to death. You shouldn’t have played the hero and you shouldn’t have cared for such a hell of a thing. If in the beginning you didn’t…”

Suddenly, Jiang FengMian spoke, “Jiang Cheng.”

Jiang Cheng paused, knowing that he had said too much. He was quiet at once.

Jiang FengMian didn’t look as if he was blaming him of anything, but his expression had turned from calm to more solemn, “Do you know in which ways what you just said is not appropriate?”

Jiang Cheng’s head hung low, “Yes.”

Wei WuXian, “He’s just angry and speaking without care.”

Seeing how Jiang Cheng’s mouth and heart were still at odds, how he still felt defiant, Jiang FengMian shook his head, “A-Cheng, there are some things that can’t be said even if you’re angry. If you said them, it means that you still don’t understand the motto of the Jiang Sect, that you still don’t…”

That "hell of a thing" Jiang Cheng mentions is referencing that saving Lan Wangji was a waste in comparison to an easy get away along with Jiang Cheng. He helped a person that potentially was a future problem for them. A thought that hadn't been on Jiang Fengmian's mind as he praised not only Wei Wuxian's kill but his care in putting others first in such dire circumstances. Understandable praise for decent morals. And then comes Madam Yu,

The harsh voice of a woman came from outside the door, “Yes, he doesn’t understand, but what does it matter, as long as Wei Ying understands?!”

Like a purple bolt of lightning, Madam Yu swept inside, bringing in with her a cold breeze. She was standing five steps away from Wei WuXian’s bed, brows raised, “‘To attempt the impossible’ is exactly how he is, isn’t it? Fooling around even though he knew that it’d bring trouble to his sect?!”

Jiang FengMian, “My lady, what are you doing here?”

Madam Yu, “What am I doing here? What a joke that I am asked of such a thing! Sect Leader Jiang, do you still remember that I’m also the leader of Lotus Pier? Do you still remember that every inch of the earth here is my territory? Do you still remember, between the one lying there and the one standing here, which one is your son?”

Such questions he had heard countless times throughout the years. Jiang FengMian answered, “Of course I do.”

Madam Yu laughed bitterly, “You do remember, but there’s no use if you simply remember. Wei Ying, he really can’t take it unless he stirs up some trouble, can he? If I had known, I would’ve made him stay in Lotus Pier properly and not go outside. Could Wen Chao really have dared to do anything to the two young masters of the GusuLan Sect and the LanlingJin Sect? Even if he did, it’d mean that they ran out of luck. Since when was it your turn to play the hero?”

Do you remember who is a leader? Do you know what's mine? Do you know the worth of people's lives and what it gains me over the trouble of caring for them unconditionally?

Her arguments can be answered already, "Could Wen Chao really have dared to do anything to the two young masters of the GusuLan Sect and the LanlingJin Sect? Even if he did, it’d mean that they ran out of luck."

Yes, as they had already burned Cloud Recesses and physically harmed Lan Wangi once before. Jin Zixuan was expected to die as he had been abandoned in the cave already with no weapon his consequence was already passed. She also says "so what?" if they did retaliate because it was them choosing to play a game of hero and killing themselves for putting their head up against a higher power and baiting more trouble in the future, regardless of the Wen Sect attacking the sects one by one, and Yunmeng the next to be considered the weakest.

All which is parroted later by Jiang Cheng 13 years later when he demands Wei Wuxian beg in front of an altar, to make amends for deaths that hurt Jiang Cheng even when Wei Wuxian died for those once. He deserved to die for protecting the Wens that caused everything. He was shameless for sticking to Lan Wangji instead of honoring their childhood promise choosing someone else over him and loving another from the start. "What did I gain from you doing the right thing?" is the underlying accusation Madam Yu and Jiang Cheng use as a defense constantly.

Jiang FengMian stood up, “Let’s talk when we get back.”

Madam Yu, “Talk about what? Get back to where? I’ll be talking about it right here. I have nothing to be ashamed of, anyways! Jiang Cheng, come over here.”

Jiang Cheng was stuck between his father and his mother. After a moment of hesitation, he moved to his mother’s side. Holding his shoulders, Madam Yu pushed him forward for Jiang FengMian to see, “Sect Leader Jiang, it seems that some things I have to say. Look carefully—this, is your own son, the future head of Lotus Pier. Even if you frown upon him just because I was the one who bore him, his surname is still Jiang! … I don’t believe for one second that you haven’t heard of how the outside people gossips, that Sect Leader Jiang has still not moved on from a certain Sanren though so many years have passed, regarding the son of his old friend as a son of his own; they’re speculating if Wei Ying is your…”

Jiang FengMian shouted, “Yu ZiYuan!”

Madam Yu shouted as well, “Jiang FengMian! Do you think that anything will change just because you raised your voice?! Do you think that I don’t know you?!”

The two debated the issue outside. On the way, Madam Yu’s angered voice was louder and louder. Jiang FengMian argued as well, suppressing his rage. Jiang Cheng stood blankly where he was. A while later, he glanced at Wei WuXian, and suddenly turned to leave as well.

Madam Yu and Jiang Cheng use harsh language, twisted rumors and others that are dead and gone to guilt others into what they insist is the correct way to make amends to wrongs with wild standards. Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian fundamentally could not work with the other as an equal unit. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian become the worst of what Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian had built up before them.

The luxury that was given to Wei Wuxian was that he still had Lan Wangji standing by his side to pull him away from that cycle of continued misunderstandings and refusal of seeing the other as anything other than a person that would be a constant disappointment.

[kurtstinypurse]

nothing but a senseless babble (klaine mini-fic)

so from how this week has gone, I ended up craving the chance to write something soft and fun. I have a list of the prompts I still haven’t filled, and I decided to use one of those and see what I could come up with! here’s a “ways to say I love you” mini-fic, prompted by @porcelainandthehobbit once upon a time.

also, thank you to the best @hippohead I know for convincing me this was worth writing & for always always being so so supportive :’) 

I hope a little escape of something sweet is even close to as good for some of you as it was for me <3

“No, Kurt. You’re going to have to cut it down. Your closet at school isn’t even going to fit half of what’s in that pile, and I am not giving you any room in mine.”

“But-”

“No!” Blaine interjects right away, exasperated at the sight of the veritable mountain of clothes in Kurt’s Bring to New York bin. By comparison, his Keep at Home box is sparse, Donate essentially empty. “Do you remember the tiny shoebox of a dorm room we’re going to be living in? Not to mention the sorry excuses of closets? We don’t have room.”

They’re going to be cramped enough as it is, inevitably at each other’s throats more often than not, being forced to share a space with room enough for two beds, two desks, and two dressers, but not much else. The model rooms on NYU’s housing website looked small enough, but Blaine has a suspicion the freshman dorms are even tinier, even older, even less comfortable.

But it’ll be worth it.

He really is looking forward to living with Kurt, to the endless opportunities for sleepovers and movie nights, study sessions and late night dance parties. They’re going to have exactly what they’ve more or less dreamed of for the better part of their friendship, since they were little kids, and it’s going to be awesome. He knows it.

But he isn’t looking forward to living with all of Kurt’s clothes and scarves and accessories and shoes and everything else.

“Yes,” Kurt huffs, folding his arms across his chest and lifting a petulant eyebrow in Blaine’s direction. “But I also remember that you didn’t exactly ‘cut down’ on any of your bowties when we packed your stuff.”

His voice is dripping with sarcasm, and then he uncrosses his arms to offer mocking air quotes to emphasize how ridiculous Blaine’s idea is - cut down? Yeah right.

It makes Blaine feel nothing but defensive, annoyance bubbling in his belly, magnified by the exhaustion from packing their stuff for the third day in a row, by his nerves about moving halfway across the country, by his fears of it all not working out how he’s hoped for so long.

Defending himself is easier than confronting all of that - and so he does.

“Bowties are tiny! Your clothes are-”

“Are you saying I’m large, Blaine?” 

“No! You’re perfectly in shape and you know it. I just meant-”

“Ooooh, you think I’m perfectly in shape?”

Kurt is fully taunting him now, grinning widely in that way where his eyes crinkle at the corners and his teeth barely peek out from the stretch of his lips, and it catches Blaine off guard, throws him for a loop as he realizes what he’s just said, too.

What it implies.

Blaine has noticed Kurt, obviously. He’s noticed him often, but of course he has - Blaine is gay, and Kurt is attractive and Kurt is right there, and it’s only natural.

He rarely lets himself acknowledge it in his own head, though, let alone out loud.

Let alone to Kurt.

“I- You-” Blaine stutters, gapes, finally manages to recover. “Stop being ridiculous, Kurt! You’re deflecting. Just- Cut your clothes down!”

“You love it,” Kurt insists, shoving the folded clothes between them to either side, scooting forward on the floor until they’re sitting right in front of each other, cross-legged, knees just shy of touching. “You love me.”

Of course he does. Of course he loves Kurt, loves how Kurt riles him up and makes him feel safe all at once, loves when they get like this and loves their comfortable silences, too, loves how his friendship with Kurt is everything and always has been everything, hopefully always will be.

But-

“No. You’re ridiculous, like I said.”

He isn’t ready to give it up.

“What- You don’t love me?” Kurt gasps dramatically, his hand thrown over his heart. “Your best friend of- god, nearly a decade? Your future roommate? Your-”

“Nope!” Blaine cuts in, biting back a grin, realizing he’s somehow become amused along the way instead of annoyed, feeling competitive now instead of irritated. “You’re ridiculous, and I hate you.”

Kurt narrows his eyes into a glare that usually sends a shiver down Blaine’s spine - but tonight, it only invigorates him, makes him want to dig into this deeper, see how far he can take it before one of them breaks.

Actually, before Kurt breaks. Because it won’t be Blaine.

Not tonight.

“You love me,” Kurt insists, his voice low, almost threatening, nearly chilling, and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, nearly close enough for Blaine’s vision to blur as he attempts to hold eye contact. “Tell me you love me.”

He’s pulling out all the stops.

Almost all the stops.

“No.” 

Blaine stays steady, schooling his face into a neutral expression, but he knows what’s next. They’ve been here before, testing each other, rapidly approaching a stalemate. Over the years, it’s evolved from bickering over what game to play to this, something much more loaded, full of the unsaid and the unacknowledged, never referenced outside of these moments, quiet lines never crossed, boundaries never pushed past the point of no return. 

He isn’t sure why he still bothers standing his ground, still bothers trying, because if he makes it this far, there’s only one way it ever ends, time and time again.

There’s one more of Blaine’s buttons that Kurt knows exactly how to push, one more thing that Kurt always uses as a last resort to get his way.

It should be predictable. Blaine should be ready for it.

He should harness the telltale glint in Kurt’s eyes, use it to brace himself, but instead, it just makes him freeze.

It gets him every time. It works every time, this now isn’t any different.

Kurt rears back, and he pounces.

Blaine vaguely registers the sound of a yelp that he feels ripping through his own throat, but he’s too focused on falling backwards and not hitting his head against the hardwood floor to be embarrassed of or even control the noises he’s making. He manages to land instead on a rogue pile of Kurt’s clothes-

And then he’s laser focused on the feeling of Kurt on top of him, lording over him, his impossibly quick fingers tickling Blaine’s sides, making him squirm, thrash, defenseless - and making him laugh, too, deep from the pit of his belly, his body shaking with the force of it.

“Tell! Me!” Kurt insists in the midst of his own peals of laughter, and it’s like his hands are everywhere, up to Blaine’s armpits and back down again, over his stomach, his arms, his chest, hitting all of his most ticklish spots without giving a second for mercy. 

It’s funny, and it hurts, and Blaine feels utterly hysterical with the childishness of it all, with Kurt straddling him, above him, consuming him, stealing the breaths right out of his chest, overwhelming and overly stimulating and-

“Fine! F-Fine, okay, I-” 

He almost breaks - wants to break, to make it stop - but he can’t get enough of the words out to forfeit. 

“You what, Blaine? You what?” Kurt eggs him on with a grin, leaning in closer, lowering his body down nearer to Blaine’s, a mere inch or two away from holding him down completely. It gives him better leverage - Blaine can tell based on the way Kurt’s fingers speed up, dig deeper, and the determination in Kurt’s eyes, steel blue ferocity.

He’s entirely ruthless.

Blaine squirms, arms flailing in search of a chance to push Kurt off, not finding it, hands grasping in the air, at the clothes on the floor, at Kurt, in a desperate search for purchase, but he can’t find that, either.

There’s only one thing left to do, and he musters all the air in his lungs to do it.

“I love you!” he finally gasps out, voice shaking with uncontrollable laughs, feeling completely wild and unhinged. “I love you, please, I love you, I love you-”

His voice chokes, dies in his throat, cutting off his near-senseless babble of a repetition when his eyes meet Kurt’s, and he finds a sort of intensity he’s never seen before, not from Kurt, not directed at him.

They stop moving at the same time.

They stop laughing at the same time.

They stop breathing at the same time.

Kurt is raised up on his hands now, bracketing either side of Blaine’s head, and he’s staring down at Blaine with flushed cheeks, wide eyes, parted lips, hair mussed and messy, so devastatingly gorgeous and so magnetic in a way that’s startlingly new. 

Blaine feels flushed, hot with the culmination of every touch and every breath since his back landed against the floor, and he isn’t sure when it all changed. 

He isn’t sure when they went from the way they’ve always been to this.

He can’t move, can’t look away. In the past frozen moments he’s gotten lost in Kurt's eyes, and now he’s stuck there, swimming in the pools of blue and green and gray, all there is.

“I love you,” he whispers again, feeling like he’s saying it for the very first time, the words holding a different weight on his tongue and shaping differently in his mouth, too, in his chest, in his bloodstream.

But there’s nothing else to say.

Kurt’s elbows buckle, and his fingers twine for a desperate hold through Blaine’s hair, and they’re kissing.

They’re kissing.

It’s deep and it’s hungry right from the start, nothing like the few tentative kisses Blaine has shared with a few tentative crushes in the past, nothing like what he thought kissing Kurt would be like.

Because, yes, he’s thought of this. He’s caught himself staring at Kurt’s mouth before, watching as Kurt absentmindedly sucks at his bottom lip while he studies, watching as Kurt sips from his designated straw in the milkshakes they share at their favorite diner, watching as Kurt nibbles the chocolate off of his biscotti at the Lima Bean. And he’s caught his mind drifting there, too, when he’s laying in bed at night, wanting.

Wanting.

But Blaine has never identified it as anything but his curiosities latching themselves onto the person closest to him. He’s never considered that the low, twisting coil that forms in his belly when Kurt locks eyes with him across the choir room and makes him feel like he’s the only person in the building could mean something more. He’s never paid much mind to the lift of his heart when Kurt touches him, to the fact that they both always seek out little excuses to stay close and to hug and to brush and to lean, to the strangeness of these teasing tests that they give each other, to what it all points towards.

He’s never considered that the way Kurt is the first thing on his mind every morning and the last thing every night could mean something, either, but that’s because it’s just how it’s always been, from the time they were children.

But maybe wanting Kurt, needing Kurt, loving Kurt is just how it’s always been, too.

And that’s why it doesn’t feel like a first kiss - because it isn’t, not really. There’s no hesitation to it, no question in the movements of their mouths or their hands or their bodies.

The testing has already been done.

It makes it easy for Blaine to reach and to grab, one hand grasping Kurt’s hip, rubbing his thumb in insistent circles at his hip bone, through his shirt, the other sliding up Kurt’s chest slowly, coming to cup his face, holding him close, holding him right where he is. It makes it easy for Blaine to plunge into the depths of their kiss, working Kurt’s mouth open with his tongue and then inside, tasting, learning, searching, finding.

It makes it easy for Blaine to allow himself to feel, to revel in the swirls of heat that form under his skin and thrum there with an energy that becomes addictive right away, every nerve ending in his body alert, awake, responding to every part of Kurt, too.

When they finally come up for air, parting just enough to breathe again, their foreheads leaned together, Kurt’s body now settled fully against Blaine’s with a weight that soothes him and ignites him all at once, there’s no panic, no embarrassment, no apology, no takebacks.

No explanation, because there doesn’t need to be one.

The moment holds them tenderly, allows Blaine the opportunity to resurface, to come into his senses and into his body again, settling into this newly awakened iteration of himself and of them, but it doesn’t take long.

This is him. This is them. 

And of all the changes they’re about to face together, from moving halfway across the country to learning how to navigate a new city to leaving everything but each other behind, this feels like the easiest one, already perfectly known, perfectly understood, fully formed and solid and unshakeable.

It almost doesn’t feel like a change at all.

When Blaine’s eyes flutter open, he finds Kurt’s already open, gazing down at him with a fondness that makes his breath catch, so close that Blaine’s vision blurs all over again as he attempts to focus, but the circumstances are all different now, slow instead of fast, purposeful instead of hysterical, building something together full of meaning and gravity instead of butting heads just for the sake of it.

He wants to stay here forever, laying in the clutter of all Kurt’s belongings, anchored by the literal weight of Kurt on top of him and of the feelings inside of him, too, the ones he finally has a name for, all slotted into place. 

“I love you,” Kurt murmurs, and warmth blooms like flowers in Blaine’s chest, threading him into the garden of Kurt’s words and his touches and the tenderness in his eyes, each and every bit of them blossoms of meaning and of intention and possibility.

“I love you, too,” Blaine whispers, cranes his neck up just enough to kiss Kurt all over again, and it’s all they need.

They both know what it means.

[set-in-stardust]

for the fanfic asks: D,I, Q, R, and S!! (I hope that isn't too much lol)

not too much at all! i asked ppl to ask, anyway :)

D: is there a song/playlist to associate with W&W?

to be honest, there's nothing in specific! however I do listen to a lot of music while i write, specifically the caves and cliffs soundtrack (when I want instrumental) and a LOT of glass animals and los camp! I'd say you could safely associate Hot Sugar by Glass Animals, Your Love (Deja Vu) also by Glass Animals, By Your Hand - Los Campesinos!, and anything with a soft, silly lovesick vibe. Nothing too specific tho, since there are so many scenes and varying situations across the fic as a whole. i think id have to make a playlist for each chapter to accurately answer this question

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

OH GOD YES!!! I'm such a fool for silly flirting and sloppy love stories. little touches that sound so simple but they matter so much more than you could ever imagine. just small details and when things are referenced in later chapters and held onto by the characters AGH! it makes them so much more human because people hold on to things that the people they care for say and do and they flirt stupidly and they love so easily, but when it comes to forgiveness they hold on to it and never give it. Grudges and complex feelings that are described in great detail rather than just labelled as conflicting are also a personal favourite. I just love it when the characters feel more human than characters, when i can really relate

Q: Do you have any discarded scenes/storylines/projects?

I do, actually! i don't think i could post any now because i may use them for a future AU or chapter for W&W! I'll post them once it's finished, i think

(TW: UNREALITY) i also have an old dream SMP fic that I've discarded. The prompt was that cc!dream and c!dream start to merge, as cc!dream begins to dream his dream smp plotline. He slowly starts to get "infected" by c!dream and starts to be unable to tell the difference between his world and the dream SMP and his friends have to help him get out of it. He keeps a dream journal throughout the story, but it starts to become more of a diary as it progresses. All of this happens with a DNF subplot. I abandoned it because i got tired of keeping up with the dsmp lore, and that was a huge part of the fic :')

R: Are there any other writers, fanfic or otherwise, that you consider an influence?

yes! my editor (@obsidianlightx3) is a huge influence since we've written stories and characters together for forever now. my favourite fic authors are tbhyourelame, TheeQwerty (DEAR GOD PLS READ INEFFABLE IF UR OKAY WITH NSFW IT WAS SO GOOD), and honestly anyone else who rlly gets into the nitty gritty with emotions and rough experiences. I love a cute storyline, but god, am i a sucker for some classic, emotionally overwhelming angst. regular book authors - my fav is Marie Lu, but i also read a lot of Agatha Christie, Rick Riordian, and i like to read a lot of classic greek myths (if that counts for anything).

S: Any fandom tropes you can't resist?

YES YES YES!! avian grain, obvs. Mumbo just being a nervous wreck half the time and fidgety is also a fav of mine, also him being constantly covered in redstone. I also love anything the fandom does with Scar! god, all of the textpost memes where they put his little mc skin by it,,, so accurate. also hybrid hermits!!! i absolutely love the idea that nobody on the hermitcraft server is rlly fully human, i just find it so fun and will definitely be using that for a future fic (wink wink, nudge nudge)

thanks for asking! this is fun to just sit and think about things like this :)

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello lovely!! I’m a sucker for Sherlock comforting John after nightmares or just ptsd episodes, and was curious if you know of any? And/or any fics where johns old shoulder injury is bothering him and Sherlock helps :) I just need all the caring fluff ☺️

Hey Nonny!

Ahhhh!! Yes, I have quite a few Nightmares/PTSD fics, and I’m going to use this opportunity to update my past lists since I have a nice collection of more! As for the shoulder injury, I believe Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance has Sherlock doing that, but I can’t recall. I’ll start a separate list offline for Shoulder Injuries perhaps. Hmm. Actually, you might find some good Caring Sherlock fics on these lists:

John Whump / Sherlock Takes Care of John

John Whump / Sherlock Takes Care of John Pt. 2

John Whump / Sherlock Takes Care of John Pt. 3

Scars

Scars Pt. 2

Now, for the main event!! Hope you enjoy, and as always, Loves, add your own!

NIGHTMARES, PTSD, PANIC ATTACKS & MENTAL/EMOTIONAL TURMOIL Pt. 3

See also:

Nightmares, PTSD, Panic Attack, & Mental / Emotional Turmoil

Nightmares, PTSD, Panic Attack, & Mental / Emotional Turmoil Pt. 2

NIGHTMARES

Study in John by chappysmom (K+, 2,158 w., 1 Ch. || Post-ASiP, POV John, Introspection, Friendship, Nightmares, Caring Sherlock, John’s Limp) – After the events of "A Study in Pink," John lies on the couch in Baker Street and thinks about the whirlwind events of the day. What is he getting himself into?

Sleepless nights by El loopy (T, 5,467 w., 3 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares/Insomnia, Panic Attack, Worried Sherlock) – Sherlock has a nightmare and John wants to know what it was about. Set during season 1. Three-shot.

What Did I Do Wrong? by Starlight05 (T, 7,880 w. || Hurt Comfort, Angst, John Whump, Hospitalization, Worried Sherlock, Emotional Turmoil, Nightmares, Sherlock Being Dumb) - After John almost dies on a case, Sherlock disappears. So John is left to figure out what he can do to get his best friend back. Meanwhile Sherlock, guilt-ridden and willingly alone, is doing everything he can to stay away.

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock First Person POV, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Love Making, Possessiveness, Depression, PTSD, Kidnapping, Virgin Sherlock, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

PTSD / EMOTIONAL TURMOIL

A Room of One's Own by whitchry9 (K+, 2,174 w., 5 Ch. || S2 Timeline, Hurt/Comfort, Supernatural, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Coma, John Whump, Worried Sherlock, POV John, Angst, Friendship/Bromance, Hospital) – When a severe head injury lands John in a coma, somehow he ends up in Sherlock's mind palace. It's actually pretty nice there, and John is entertaining the notion of staying there, rather than returning to his broken body. But Sherlock isn't taking it as well, and John can feel him breaking around him.

Museums and Laboratories by RhododendronPonticum (T, 3,004 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Angst, Obsessive Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, Anxiety/Panic Attack, Separation Anxiety, Doctor John, Co-Dependent Sherlock) – If Sherlock's kitchen was his laboratory, then his bedroom was his museum.

A Home for Us by sussexbound (M, 30,581 w., 12 Ch. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Emotions, Clingy Sherlock, Hallucinations, Disassociation, Emotional Turmoil) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

Impossible to Feign by achray (M, 49,204 w., 12 Ch. || TRF Rewrite / Reverse Reichenbach, Suicidal Ideations / Discussions, Drug Use/Abuse, Mutual Pining, Friends With Benefits, John Accepts his Sexuality, Anxious Sherlock, Meddling Mycroft, Depression, Hallucinations, Secret Agent John, BAMF John, Reunion, Make-Up Sex, Ambiguous Ending) – Sherlock leant forward, his long fingers curving round to grip John’s.“I won’t let him win,” he said, eyes hard. “I will do whatever it takes to get you out.”

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets,  Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock First Person POV, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Love Making, Possessiveness, Depression, PTSD, Kidnapping, Virgin Sherlock, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

[3pirouette]

Fic: An Experimental Design (7/?)

Title: An Experimental Design By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :) 

Story Summary: Sequel to “What Number?”, also prompted from Steggy Bingo Bash Prompts.  Takes place about a week after that fic.

Chapter 7: We Have a Plan

A/N: Sorry it’s taken so long to get this out. RL has to come first, and it has been busy and stressful leaving me little time to write. Story will still be continued AND finished, just not on a regular timeline, though I will TRY for a new chapter every weekend going forward.

~*~

“We have a plan,” Howard said, sitting across from them in his lab the next morning.

“We?” Peggy asked, a single eyebrow raised. She grasped Steve’s hand tight, both excited and concerned.

Howard frowned. “I had to reach out to a researcher in California. It may be hard for me to admit,” he stood, rounding the table and shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned against it, “but I’m out of my depth.”

Peggy dropped her head, closing her eyes tight. “Yes, well, I’m sure we’re quite the medical oddity.”

Howard dipped, waiting to catch her eyes before he spoke. “If you think, for one second, that I’m taking any of this lightly, Peg…”

“No. I—” She took a deep breath, looking at him, brown eyes full of sadness. “It’s just quite the turn for a spy to feel so exposed. I feel like everyone on this base knows all my business now.”

“Not from me, they don’t,” Howard replied, stern. “And I told my colleague in California only what he needed to know, no more.”

Howard watched her square her shoulders, her ability to compartmentalize and focus her energies at will always somehow so astounding to him. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Synthetic hormone injections.” Howard pulled his hands out of his pockets, moving them around frantically as he explained. “Somehow, they’ve been able to force your bodies to regulate your hormone levels through touch, specifically touching each other. I’m not even sure if this is what they intended to do, or if it’s just a side effect, but touching,” he gestured to their clasped hands, “keeps them on an even keel.”

Howard shifted, sitting on the table. “Once you stop touching, your bodies loses the ability to regulate. Now- we had some of the samples of Peg’s from while Steve was away, and I compared them to what we took yesterday and today- and I think…” he shook his head, sliding his hands across an invisible timeline in front of him. “What we actually know is when you guys were rationing how much you touched, it came on quicker, but built up slower.” He made a gentle slope in the air, their eyes following. “But after you shacked up and were touching all the time, it took a lot longer to come on, but the pain increased at an exponential rate.” His hands bounced through the air, trying to show them the competing graphs from his mind.

“And that means…?” Steve led, hoping for more answers.

Howard shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know if this is how they intended it to work of if this is a side effect. Phillips has half the battalion out now looking for more small bases we’ve ignored hoping they’ll have something, and the other half pawing through old boxes of Hydra contraband for anything referencing Anchor or Winter Soldier.”

“So, when do we start?” Peggy squared her shoulders, ready to move forward.

Howard moved back to his chair, sitting heavily. “As long as the lines hold, we’ll have a batch of hormones here tomorrow.”

Steve’s shoulders fell at the thought of having to wait much longer for a solution. “And until then?”

The scientist shrugged. “You guys know what happens. You touch a lot, no pain for a while but it goes up quick. Not a lot, a little pain but longer until it gets bad.” He looked back and for the between them. “You pick. Six of one, half dozen of the other. At this point I don’t have any evidence that one approach is better.”

~*~

He sat apart from her in the car on the way back to the apartment, his hand close, but not touching in the backseat. They sat in silence for the first few minutes, Howard’s driver very carefully indifferent towards them.

“I’m starting to get used to the apartment,” Peggy muttered, her eyes on the military barracks they were passing through the window. “It’ll be a shame when we have to go back to cots and tents.”

He could feel her vibrating next to him, full of emotions and energy, concerns and questions, none of which either of them wanted to voice in front of a stranger. “There will be a lot of difficult things about going back.” She kept her head turned, not looking at him as he continued. “What do you think about Howard’s… options?”

She found his eyes in the refection in the glass, but didn’t say anything. Peggy simply crept her hand to the side, finding his fingers and holding tight.

Steve felt like he could breathe again.

The thought of holding back, of trying to avoid touching her seemed like a monumental task. He tried to keep his fingers still as the car trudged on, moving through bombed out husks of neighborhood and back through apartment buildings that had fared better. He tried to build a plan of keeping things to small, little touches, to holding hands and pecks good night with walls of pillows built up between them.

It would be so much better, in the long run, if she could fare for longer periods of time without him.

And yet he hated the idea of being so close yet so far. Despite the circumstances, despite the pain she felt and the scrutiny they were under, their quiet morning, lounging naked together and indulging in soft touches, had been a glimpse into paradise. Their days before that, in the apartment, had been a peek into the future he so desperately wanted once the war was over.

He’d never meant to let it go that far, to let Hydra take that last little bit of private intimacy away from them. He hadn’t been in control, though, and admitting that was more frightening than he thought. He was feeling less and less in control as the days passed. The more Peggy got of him the better she was, but the more he was around her, the worse off he was. She was like a drug: the more he had, the more he wanted and there didn’t seem to be any satiating his hunger.

Steve wanted to believe that, based on everything they’d already been, the desire between them was real, that it was only enhanced by the hormones, only morphed and twisted by the chemicals coursing through their bodies. He wanted to believe that eventually all of the hand holding and stolen kisses would have led to the same, blistering desire he was feeling now, if only farther in the future. Knowing her, seeing her, tasting her, had left an indelible mark on the slowly simmering desire he’d felt. He wasn’t sure how he was going to avoid touching her as casually as they had been before, how he was going to avoid pressing close to her in the kitchen or cuddling up with her at night in bed, without making her feel like he was upset with her or avoiding her.

He almost jumped out of his skin when her fingers started stroking over his, her hand pulling away and stroking at his wrist before it fell heavily on his thigh, all the while her eyes still looking out to the horizon.

~*~

She hadn’t meant to let it go that far. They’d never lost their heads like that. If she had thought it would have been a true possibility, she’d have prepared better.

She wasn’t upset, precisely, but rather disappointed that a moment she’d tucked away and looked forward to had been squandered so uselessly.

She could barely even remember it. It was a jumble of legs and arms and bodies and pain and passion.  

She wanted to know what his face looked like when he pushed into her the first time, to memorize the way it felt, to know what his eyes looked like when he lost control, and how he sounded, spent and lying next to her.

But she couldn’t remember, and they’d never have this for the first time again.

It seemed so silly to her, as she looked out at the passing houses, to put such big meaning on such a little barrier. They’d come so close so many times and she knew him so intimately. She knew how he breathed when he was close to losing control, what his lips felt like on her nipples, how his hands palmed her ass and squeezed when he was spurring her on, what his stubble felt like along her inner thigh… For over a month they’d learned each other in the most intimate of ways and yet, she held this one little thing so high…

She just wanted one thing that wasn’t touched by this war. One.

She tried to focus. She hadn’t decided, not really, about how she wanted to proceed when they got back to the apartment. The idea of staying away from him until she started to feel the tingling seemed insane to her, but she feared dependence. She feared they’d touch so much, drunk on each other’s skin, that eventually she wouldn’t be able to exist away from him.  

Her body hummed, vibrating on the same frequency as his, so aware of how stiff and tired and frustrated he was, as well.

They were all each other had in this.

Peggy moved her hand to his thigh, never turning her face, keeping quiet for the benefit of the driver.

She’d made her decision.

~*~

Before the door to the apartment was even closed, he had her pushed up against it, his lips running down her neck, leg hitched up over his hip.

“Tell me to stop, Peg,” he murmured, kissing across the exposed skin at her collar bone.

“I won’t.” She ran her fingers through his hair, holding him tight to her. “I can’t.”

He pulled away, breathless, looking into her eyes. “This is a bad idea.” He shook his head, letting his forehead gently fall to hers. “You gotta be able to exist without me. What if--”

She moved her hand fast, covering his lips. “Don’t even,” she reprimanded harshly. The thought of them being separated, permanently because of the war or any other reason, was not something she wanted to contemplate right now.

He sighed, eyes closed tight as he pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Peg…”

“Tomorrow, Howard is going to pump us full of god knows what in the hopes that something might help. But we don’t know. We don’t know if it’ll make it worse or better. If it will help or hurt or do nothing.” She shifted, her leg falling from his hip as she cradled his face in her hands, waiting for him to look at her. Her voice fell to a tremulous whisper. “What if, after tomorrow, I can’t touch you without it hurting?”  

His heart seemed to stop at that one possibility, a thought that had never crossed his mind. He’d been so focused on the hell she was enduring now that he hadn’t imagined there could be others. Peggy had. She’d probably imagined more tortures than he could ever fathom.

Peggy moved her hand to smooth over his furrowed brow. “I’m not waiting and hoping, Steve.” She kissed him, full and alive and passionate, sliding her arms over his shoulders and down his back. “I’m enjoying what we have, right here, right now.”

In one smooth move he grasped her under her thighs and lifted her off her feet, her hands holding his shoulders tight as he carried her over to the couch, gently sitting on the edge with her in his lap. She shifted to her knees as he slid back, keeping her body close to his, a smile widening across her face.

~*~

She was half asleep in his arms, her naked body still tangled in the sheets around them. It hadn’t taken them long to make their way from the couch to the bedroom, availing themselves of more than one of the condoms she’d swiped from the supply closet while they were on base along the way.

She wondered if Martins would miss them, or if he was used to GIs sneaking into the supply closet and messing up his inventory. Peggy suspected the latter, but giggled to herself, imagining the man trying to blabber his way through a briefing detailing the number of condoms missing and why they were so important to keep gun muzzles dry in the field.

Steve’s arms wrapped tighter around her. “Something amusing?”

Peggy ran her hand over his chest. “Just thinking of Martins discovering that I managed to shove a whole case of condoms in my purse.” She felt him rumble beneath her. “How often do you think he has that problem?”

“A case?” Steve sighed happily, kissing her head. “Rarely. If the guys who sneak in manage more than a handful they start trading them around like cigarettes.”

“So that happens a lot, then?” Peggy shifted, leaning up on her elbow.

Steve blinked his eyes open, looking at her, He lifted his hand to run his fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “We get issued a certain amount per month for all kinds of uses. Guys generally don’t want Phillips to know if they’re using them for non-waterproofing reasons.”

Peggy leaned down, gently letting her lips fall to his in a soft kiss. “Think we have enough, Captain?”

Steve chased her lips as she pulled away, smiling. He shifted, leaning over the edge of the bed to dramatically survey the dozens of little silver packets that were strewn across the floor.  He didn’t think he’d ever get the image of her, standing only in her panties and garters, pulling handful upon handful of condoms out of her purse, smile shining bright and eyes so full of desire it looked like she wanted to eat him alive. “Nope,” He laughed, flopping back on the bed and pulling her close to him. “I’d say we could use a few more.”

Peggy shook her head, smacking him gently. “Then you’ll be doing the sneaking into the supply closet next time.”  She sat up, looking around them and finally settled on pulling on Steve’s undershirt before slipping out of bed. She picked up Steve’s boxers and tossed them to him before collecting the packets strewn on the floor. “I’m famished. Lunch?”

Steve caught his boxers mid-air, shimmying into them under the blanket. “I do seem to have worked up an appetite.” He wagged his eyebrows at her as she set the condoms in a pile on the side table.

She just shook her head, grabbing her panties and slipping them on, enjoying the lighthearted flirting. “You’re insatiable.”

She held back a squeal as Steve snuck behind her, turning her quickly and playfully backing her against the wall. “One hundred percent your fault that I can’t keep my hands off of you.” He’d meant it as a compliment, but they both knew that the words had been wrong the second they came out of his mouth. “Peg- no. I meant that—”

Her smile was soft, not forced but not full blown. “I know.” She bit her lip and looked away, her hands sliding around his waist to pull him close. She took a slow, shuddering breath as he wrapped his arms around her. “One day, you’ll be able to say that to me simply because you find me unbelievably attractive, not because my very life might depend on it.”

He leaned back, nudging her nose gently with his until she looked at him. “I do, actually, find you unbelievably attractive,” he whispered gently.

She couldn’t help but laugh at his sincerity, at how hard he had been trying just for her. “Flatterer,” she huffed lightheartedly, trying to find the little bubble of happiness they’d just been inhabiting before his poor choice of words. She pulled back, taking his hands in hers. “Come on, I’m hungry and of the two of us, you’re the far better cook.”

Steve had joked with her though much of lunch that he was sure she could warm up a can of soup about as well as he could, but she swore up and down she’d manage to burn it somehow. She claimed dish duty, hands carefully cleaning out the bowls and pans as Steve molded himself to her back, his hands resting on her hips, slipping under the cotton of his shirt, fingers dancing playfully at the edge of her underwear. It was nice to have him so close, so gentle with her.

Peggy smiled, flicking water over her shoulder at him playfully as she cleaned the last dish. “Eager?”

He chuckled, pressing closer to her so she could feel just how eager he was. “Maybe.” He kissed her neck, following along the curve of it as she tipped her head to allow him more access. “Just taking advantage of our time here together.”

She set the last dish aside and turned in his arms, her damp hands sliding over his shoulders. “Well?” she asked, teasing and expectant.

He lifted her swiftly onto the counter next to the sink and kissed her in earnest.

~*~

Peggy sat in bed, unashamed of her nudity as she pulled her brush gently through her hair, eye on the mirror across from her. “I’ll have to get up early tomorrow,” she muttered, both hands working out a tangle. “If I walk in with my hair looking like this there won’t be a single question as to how we’ve been spending our time. I look absolutely debauched.”

Steve, laying behind her, smiled, meeting her eyes in the mirror as he let a finger glide over her hip where the sheet pooled around her legs. “I think you look gorgeous.”

Peggy bit her lip as she looked over her shoulder at him. There was something far more intimate about how they were right here, right now, than they had been this whole time. Sharing a bed, chatting as she brushed her hair, naked but for the single sheet laying over their hips… she wouldn’t quite call it domestic, but she didn’t have another word for the rightness of it, couldn’t quite voice how it made her feel inside to see his bright blue eyes lock onto hers and know for sure that he loved her and she loved him. It made her feel like a giant, like a superhero, and in this little room, as night fell with just the warm light from the bedside lamp on them, she felt like nothing could touch them.

She could pretend tomorrow wasn’t happening, that there was nothing wrong with her, that there wasn’t a war on, and that it could be like this forever.

She turned back to the mirror, focused on getting the tangles out of her hair. “This is your fault, you know.”

Steve’s finger gently slid over her hip and to the other, teasing. He kissed the dimple in her low back. “I take full responsibility.”

“First the counter… then on the couch…” she took a deep breath and shook her head, putting her brush down on the bedside table. “then back in here again after dinner. It’s a wonder I’m not bruised and battered.” She rolled her eyes when Steve’s brows knit together, his teasing touch turning more concerned and exploratory. “I’m teasing!” She sighed, turning and laying against him. She pecked him on the cheek. “Only real casualty was my elbow when we took that tumble off the couch.”

Steve lifted her arm, examined it, and though he didn’t see a black and blue forming, he kissed it gently anyway. He tucked her arm tight to his chest and leaned up, kissing her forehead. “Alarm is already set for bright and early.” He tipped his head towards the light, asking if she wanted him to shut it off. “Ready?”

Peggy nodded, but she could feel the lump forming in her throat, could feel the enormity of how going to sleep brought her so much closer to tomorrow’s unknowns. Steve reached over, flipping off the light and plunging them into darkness before turning back to her and tucking her tight to his side. “G’night, Peg,” he whispered after a quiet moment, squeezing her tight.

She turned her head, pressing a kiss to his chest, knowing she wouldn’t get a moment’s rest tonight. “Goodnight, my darling.”

[f-117-nighthawk]

Playlist Update Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

Part 2! Here lies Endless War, Dystopian Fiction, and Filaments. EW hasn’t changed much, DF has a bit and it's all INFECTED's fault, and Filaments has more than three songs finally. My explanations for these aren't quite as fleshed out (partially bc there's less in my head to flesh out with and partially because these aren't nearly as set in playdough as the main playlist. more like set in syrup)

Part One

In chronological order:

Endless War

Dark Matter is here because it always is, twining through everything else.

(Don’t stop, don’t think, don’t look back/You’re a bolt of lightning in the sky now/Don’t stop, don’t think, don’t look back/I’ve pulled you in, nowhere to hide now)

I Am the One links into Eater of Worlds as sort of the aftermath, sort of during Apocalypse 1992. Our Fifth General has her realization about [REDACTED] far, far before Team Voltron does because she’s there in the thick of it during Through Apocalypse Skies.

(I am the one/I hold the dreams from fallen heroes)

(We are gods, we are monsters/We create to devour/Not for love but for power/What’s a life worth in the end?)

(From the caves beneath Dundee/Ancient hermit arrives/A messenger to the war in the stars/Korviliath is nigh!)

The Truth Beneath the Rose is from the perspective of our last (and first) Blade in the aftermath of Through Apocalypse Skies, as she realizes just what she helped create. Also… kinda connects to a song in the main playlist, but not very obviously.

(Blinded to see the cruelty of the beast/It is the darker side of me/The veil of my dreams deceived that I have seen/Forgive me for what I have been, forgive me my sins!)

Raise Your Banner is The Fifth General’s newfound resolve as she starts collecting allies against Zarkon’s empire.

(Wake up/I’m defying you, seeing right through you, once I believed in you/Wake up/Feel what’s coming deep within we all know)

Obey is a bit of a weird one. It’s in the same vein as You Keep What You Kill in the main playlist, but it’s more specifically about the creation of the first Druids and how Haggar uses them against the Fifth General and her team.

(Obey, we're gonna show you how to behave/Obey, it's nicer when you can't see the chains)

Silver Moonlight is cracks forming in The Fifth General’s new set of alliances and her desperate and occasionally rash attempts to get them to believe in her goal. Not just the main one to take down the empire, but the one that will allow them to do that.

(I’m impatient, but it’s colors that I need/Too many shades of grey, I cannot breathe/The dreams I have ain’t tainted, I need you to believe/The only way to make them real, oh)

Endless War is the title track, connected to Holy Ground and I’d Rather Burn as a specific event but also sort of encompassing the Fifth General’s motivations throughout the series. She’s “hunting a miracle” that is also those colors from Silver Moonlight, and then the end of Endless War kicks in with Holy Ground, and the Fifth General’s final stand in I’d Rather Burn.

('Cause you’re fighting an endless war/Hunting a miracle/And when you reach out for the stars/They just cut you down/…/Is it worth dying for?/Or are you blinded by, blinded by it all?)

(You got inside my head, I want you out/'Cause I’ve been betrayed on holy ground)

(Won’t let you take my soul away/I’d rather go to the stake/I’d rather burn)

Empty Eyes is [long spoiler beep]. (and yes! I found it on Spotify finally!)

(I don’t know where I’m going/In search for answers/I don’t know who I’m fighting/I stand with empty eyes/You’re like a ghost within me/Who’s draining my life/It’s like my soul is see-through/Right through my empty eyes)

Dystopian Fiction

Dark Matter is on here because title track, but also it does end up with effects. Especially by the end… and of course, the Thing that is Wrong With Earth.

(Don’t stop, don’t think/Move up, don’t blink now/On your knees pray for rain/Don’t breathe when you take your aim)

The Human Condition is the Éskhayklos manifesto. A warning of the end times. The condemnation of the parasites. The reveal of the only cure. The final extinction cycle. Also their new image song, as Cross the Line got moved.

(We have the cure for the disease/Locked down inside us/When all is dead, then we will see/We are the virus)

INFECTED is the Éskhayklos’s slow, well, infection of the Sol Federation, and their descent into full-blown terrorism. (And yes, I know the actual lyrics have ‘he’. Shhhhhh. It’s a STARSET song, it’s about a Shirogane, even if it’s sort of from Cascade’s POV)

(Here's a challenge for all mankind/The preacher man is warning of the end times/The weatherman agrees but she don't know/So she's got to go now)

Who Will Save You Now here is about Sam, and the aftermath of Here to Save You, in addition to its referenced role in the main playlist.

(Alone with this vision/Alone and blind/Go tell the world I’m still alive)

Codebreaker is Adam’s song! But here it’s also in conjunction with Cross the Line as the final Éskhayklos mission before...

(Codebreaker can’t you find/Can you read between the lines of code?/Tell me all that you know/How far down the hole does it all go)

(Cross the line, redefine, break away unbent, unafraid/Together we stand in the dark/Seeking the light and what is right, together we cross the line/Our journey will come to an end and then our human cause will be/Justified)

The Day the Earth Collapsed

(How much time has been elapsed/Since the day the earth collapsed?)

Dystopian Fiction is the title track for this part. With the events of The Day the Earth Collapsed, the Garrison and our heroes on Earth are at their lowest point. It really is a piece of dystopian fiction, between [spoiler] and [spoiler]. They’re fighting for something that, at that point, must seem like ‘superstition.’ And also: “Nobody can shoot me down, not just yet” is about Adam bc Fuck Canon. Even if he does, technically, get shot down.

(I’m a dead man/In the wasteland/I’m a soldier fighting for superstition/Under searchlights/In the long nights/We’ve been written like dystopian fiction)

World on Fire and The Reckoning are the two of their subset that make it over here because they’re the two that happen before the result of This is a Call can come to fruition, and are more focused on our Earth heroes anyway.

(Sent by forces beyond salvation/There can be not one sensation)

(We’re all alone, walking in twilight/The night has been long and so many have fallen/Feel no remorse, light will be breaking/Our freedom is worth it all)

Filaments

Filaments is still in flux but does have way more solid than it did. Like, you know, most of an ending. I just don’t really know how they get from A to B yet.

Dark Matter is here because, well. A) Title track, B) yes, it still has effects. It’s the overarching theme, after all. Filaments sort of has a subtitle itself, which is ‘The Undoing,’ after the other part of the lyric that the subtitle of the main playlist comes from. It’s about undoing a past mistake (that wasn’t obviously a mistake until much later) and reconciling the events of Your World Will Fail.

(I am the keeper/I am the secret/I am the answer/I am the end)

Filaments is the title track of this part. It’s… a little hard to explain without giving away the entire plot but it’s about the connections between different parts of the universe, and some fall-out of Cosmic Vertigo and Louder Than Words.

(These glowing filaments/Conducting this enchanting/Sarcophagus that’s holding us)

Starlight is, again, Adashi song, and this time the happy part

(Don’t leave me lost here forever/I need your starlight and pull me through/Bring me back to you)

Carry Me Home is its eponymous fic.

(Carry me home to the morning light/carry me home before you wave me goodbye/Oh, carry me home…)

And then we get to the new part. Know that stuff in Carry Me Home about “The record skip that only [Keith and Krolia] can remember”? Yeah, Prognosis is a huge step to figuring that out.

(How long is the body beholden?/How long 'til we run out of road?/Deep down in the black of the ocean/Fading from the glow)

The timey-wimey ball gets tossed around more in Blackstar. Partially due to [REDACTED] and a certain terrorist’s reemergence, but also due to Prognosis-related stuff

(They'll let you try/To reverse everything/Don't waste your time/Sing Hallelujah 'cause you can't change anything)

Eon straight-up plays Calvinball with the timey-wimey ball and gets the Paladins stuck in a groundhog-day situation, and the only way out? Isn’t good.

(If time's a song, I won't wait for its reprise/I am done wishing farewells and goodbyes)

The Art of War and Centigrade are the beginning of the end. The Art of War is Cascade finally showing his true colors, and the Sol Federation not having a good time. Centigrade is the other side of it, Team Voltron having a realization of just what they’re going to need to do.

(I can remember all the days of violence/I can remember all the days they fought for rights/When men united all by fear and interest/I mustered them with hopeful promises I've broken)

(What did you hope to find adrift and lost in time?/Is this the end ready to begin?/It's time to escape the fate of destruction, excavating within until salvation/No longer pretend the future's a lie from a past you cannot hide)

The Future is Now and A Theater of Dimensions are. Well. You’ll see. It’s a little hard to pick a lyric from AToD, I'll say that much.

(They said there was no way/But they forgot the black hole in the sky/Yesterday is nothing/I have half a life to rewrite)

(I’ve seen our freedom in the mist of time/The old signs I’ll follow and the day of relief will be yours and mine)

And then there’s Afterlife. Fitting to end on a UtA song, after everything, especially since The Immortal has repeatedly throughout DM been a metaphor for Voltron. Also fitting that it’s this one, considering the parallels between the end of The Immortal’s story and Filaments

(But with such power, think how you could rule/Hold to your promise to watch over those in despair/Why would you choose to serve when you could be master of all?/Be true to your honour and fight for a world that is fair!/Out of shadow, out of darkness, welcome to the light/As the day shines boldly over night/Follow me to finally be who you are inside/Open wide, embrace the afterlife)

[evanescentdawn]

Trivia Tuesday

cutting it a bit close, haha. literally less than thirty minutes left until the day, now!

for the wip: touken bite

“It’s difficult to get the words out at first, to sort through the lump in his throat and the awkwardness of reading out loud, whilst being very aware of Touka’s gaze on him.

It’s not the first time he’s read out loud to someone. Hide loved to pester him but this is — different.”

Okayyy. So I really love the idea of Kaneki reading to people close to him as a form of love! (Or sharing his books) I had this idea before, that Hide loved to pester him about it and make him read stuff to him. Have a completely wip on it! (Hide & Sounds). I want to make another wip, actually, now.... about Hinami, and Ichika, and Quinn. Or, nishiki 👀. Maybe...I should have that 5 + 1 thing.

This little thing is just so fun! You can have so many VARIATIONS.

I just love how I managed to sneak in a headcanon of mine, haha.

I love books, and I love reading. I think it’s really neat that Kaneki is a book guy, while two people that he loves aren’t—touka&hide. But they understand it, and go out of their way to involve themselves in it despite initial dislike. (Oh hey new wip-idea touhideken bookstore date.)

Have I thought about what I meant by “Hide loved to pester him but this is — different.” Yes! But do I remember? That’s a different question, lol. Oh man, I wished that I did though. I will ponder on this a lot, now.

This wip is more about Touka reading Kaneki’s stuff, despite how she doesn’t really...like that stuff. Trying to understand him better. Get closer. And more about, there wasn’t really anything to do underground, and the book—was just there. And then, Kaneki catching her and Touka asking him to read. Without really any explanation. I thought it would be also cute about the thought that Kaneki is also reading their unborn child! While it’s prettyy early, reading and talking to them is very good! (I read that somewhere).

This fic...I haven’t thought much about what it explores, which is probs why I am kinda stuck right now (laughs). It’s just! About post-marriage and Kaneki considering the bite and the whole newness of this relationship.

This reading-out-loud thing was kinda a thing I added out of the blue! It felt right, considering the flow of it. I got...stuck, though. Now that I am writing this trivia thing, I am getting more idea of what I want to be about. Where to go.

“Connected” is perhaps the theme of this. the bites on both of their shoulders; the book out of his childhood; the marriage. and—the future, too. changes. little part about the baby. and how touka and kaneki fit together right now. and how each of them exists as comfort to each other. ; ;

I also love the idea of perhaps a Touka POV where she rambles a little on kaneki&books. (And how, when she had made :re, she included the books thing.)

Though, urgh. This means I need to find some book that Kaneki has mentioned he likes in Canon, or make up one because that’s more fun, honestly, and allows for more room and flexibility to do whatever. And because, I really hate cross referencing canon. :P

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey, so 😅 I wanted to respond to this ask to set the record straight! The link and the brief fic descriptions are censored to protect the identity of the writer being referenced. To be clear, I have contacted them to ask that they alter their fic with the copied lines (there were multiple sentences word-for-word with mine when I checked), and they have complied with my request.

What had happened was I was contacted a while ago and asked if they (the asker) could "reference" a fic of mine for their own. I had privately responded to them saying "yes", but had also said that I would appreciate it if they linked back to the original fic, since at the time I wasn't sure how heavily my fic would be referenced. When I granted the permission to "reference" my work, I believed that the new fic would have similar themes, ideas, or story beats. I did not and do not ever give permission to use my words completely as is. That is NOT referencing; that is copying. "Referencing" a piece does NOT mean copying entire sections of someone else's work down to the exact word. I wanted to be explicit about this in case something similar happens in the future or if I’m ever asked again if my work can be “referenced” 💦

[intothewickedwood]

Once Upon A Time Rewatch: 5x21 Last Rites

I can’t even remember the flashback for this episode, if there even was one. It probably should have been a Robin Hood flashback for his death to have made more of an impact. Because he’s literally just been pointing out really obvious things and nothing else for pretty much the whole season. 

Zelena worrying for her sister! I live for this!

How’d Arthur escape?

Yes, Hades much threatening holding a baby. Very scare. 

Oh dear.

When will they learn not to stop letting Sleepy guard things?! 

Sleepy: “Sleepy. I told you, it’s Walter.” That’s interesting that Sleepy doesn’t like to be called Sleepy and prefers Walter. The Dwarfs seemed so desperate to get back to their EF lives in season 2.

Snowing reunited! God, I missed those 2 together!

Finally, a grandma Snow hug! Haven’t had one of those in ages! 

Zelena’s like “and f**k you Regina! My boyfriend’s a God. How’s that for a happy thought?!”

Oh yeah. Forgot Arthur killed Hook the first time. Well, technically the second time? 

Arthur looks more like Hook’s brother than Liam or Liam II. Not to mention a closer accent. I feel like I read a fic or something where they were brothers somehow. Don’t get me wrong though, I prefer Liam. 

Okay, Hades was definitely manipulating Zelena here. He knew she wouldn't let him turn himself in, he just wanted to pretend he was willing to.

“The olympian crystal. Very powerful, very dangerous and I’ve waited a long time to use it.”

I’m sorry but that olympian crystal looks like a big old, jagged freaking- anyway back to the rewatch! 

Where was he keeping that giant dildo of death anyway? Do I even want to know??

Zelena does not look like she’s into it.

*sigh* why didn’t they just make Hades Robin Jr.’s father? I remember thinking and hoping he somehow was. 

Belle’s father refusing to wake Belle from the sleeping curse just to keep her away from Rumple. What the hell?! He’d just let her stay like that forever? Because we know people don’t age during sleeping curses and Rumple is immortal. Jeeeez! He does not respect her agency at all!

Oh my God! Hades was whipping Hook?!........ Dat’s kinky.

Cruella: “Oh, back up!....Seriously, back up.” The number of times I’ve referenced this xD! 

Oh my God guys, how can anyone get through that many books?! And its too many damn pages for any man to understand.

Your brother stopped your heart for a sparkly strap on? Wow, what a family.

I wonder how old Hades and the God’s are. Are they older/the same age as Gothel? According to Hades he’s been around for at least a few 1thousand years. Also, is Poseidon his brother too? Is Ursula his niece? That’s cool. I like that headcanon.

So according to one of Ouat’s wikis: ‘Kronos was originally the ruler of Mount Olympus, as well as the father of Zeus and Hades. Zeus was poised to become the next ruler after Kronos' reign ended, but this enraged Hades, who stole the olympian crystal and used it to obliterate Kronos. Zeus, however, defeated Hades and banished him to the Underworld.’ I must have missed that bit. And Poseidon is listed as Kronos’ son and Ursula his granddaughter.

Robin Hood: “Regina, you are my future.” Oh dear.

Do y’all think that lost soul dragging Arthur is Milah though? Like, “get off my man! He’s mine, bitch!”

Emma’s like, “omg my dead bf’s posting me sexy dildo pics from hell. He’s so sweet.”

Guys, don’t leave the baby alone.

He definitely knows Regina and Robin are there. They’re talking so loudly!

Sorry, Emma but I love Zelena effortlessly throwing people about. I still think she’s more powerful than Emma and Regina. No one could dispel her protection spell. Definitely the most powerful telekinetic possibly out of any other character. Did you see her move that tree as a baby?!

Hades, please don’t kill Zelena’s sister! 

Oh no! The jagged sparkly dildo of death has an electric shock feature! Very kinky.

Lmao!!! I’m sorry but Robin’s death scene looks so funny! It’s shot so weirdly!

Well, Robin byeeeeee. Remember all those times he stood in the background and said nothing except the occasional “you were the evil queen” and “look there are trees here!” or of course, the already established “this place is deserted”. Fun times.

Regina be like, “show me those hands! Show me those jazz hands!” A very appropriate reaction if I do say so myself.

Okay but seriously. Did Robin not think about his 2 kids? Why didn’t he just push her out the way and run? Why didn’t Regina use her magic at all? This could have been so easily avoided but I think it was necessary for Regina’s character development and the plot. I think they ran out of things to do with Robin, and it was becoming more and more unrealistic that a character like Regina was in love with a character like him, in my opinion. She became a completely different character around him. Not all happy endings involve romantic love. I like that she remained single. Also, Robin never really made connections with the other heroes. He barely spoke to them. Literally, I think he only spoke to Hook twice and Emma once! I think Charming once too and I’m not sure he ever spoke to Snow. Maybe once in early 3b. I think that’s why, to me, he felt so disconnected from them. It would have worked a lot better if he was a villain all along, seeking vengeance on Regina for his wife’s death.

God, Hades! Zelena just wants to live in her little farmhouse, watching her daughter play on the swings and bunnies hop around while drinking tea in their magical enchanted garden!

Oh my God, if I was Zelena I would scream. Too many people in her head! Tbf if I was Zelena, I’d throw that giant dildo through the window and let Emma have it for herself as Hook intended.

Get lost Hades! Honestly, this is when I stopped being a serious Zades shipper. Before this I was a hardcore fan! But he tried to force her to kill her sister! He even says, “If you won’t, I will.” That’s going too far!

All Zelena ever wanted was love! I’m glad she finally recognizes that. She thought she wanted the material things her sister had but it was familial love that she never got from her adoptive father and only got a short taste of from her adoptive mother that she truly craved.

She chose her sister!

I hate that they made her kill Hades! Why couldn’t someone else do it?

Omg look at the sisters hold each other! I am going to die!!

Well, it’s nice that Arthur and Killian are getting along now, considering this is literally all Arthur’s fault. Somehow, after this episode, I can’t bring myself to hate Arthur as much as I did before. 

I guess the prophecy could still come true. He could repair the broken kingdom that is the Underworld.

I feel like this was addressed in a DVD extra, but does Arthur or Cruella end up ruling the underworld? I feel like it was Arthur, but my heart wants it to be and says it is Cruella and her lover the Blind Witch. 

Wow, Dumbledore and Harry look so different at King’s Cross in the afterlife. Is the horcrux in Harry destroyed??

Zeus, you horny bastard, we all know you probably slept with every character in ouat at some point. And we also know you’re a hardcore CS shipper!

Zeus looks so young lol. Why?

Hook: “Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?" Zeus: “Of course it is happening inside your head, Hooky, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”

Sorry. I had to.

Poor Roly :(. He’s an orphan now. I hope someone adopted him. I’m surprised Regina didn’t.

Zelena what kinda drugs are you smoking to call the baby Robin?! Dear God. Pistachio would have been better! I’ve probably said this before, but I inadvertently called her name would be Robin. In my group rp, my Zelena kept referring to the baby as “baby Robin.” if you can gaze into the future (Future, future) You might think life would be a breeze (Life is a breeze) Seeing trouble from a distance (Yeah, go Bec) But it's not that easy xD. I’ve been rewatching That’s so Raven with my mama and thus far I’ve been having more precognitive dreams than my already bananas amount.

Why do villains always crumble to dust/vanish, especially in this show: Maleficent (twice, I think), Pan (twice), Zelena, The Snow Queen, Hades, Split Queen, The Black Fairy. I don’t get why they do that.

Thank God that flipping red filter is gone! Good riddance! 

The Underworld arc wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the Dark Swan arc. It was actually much better than I remembered. I enjoyed it, even! How did I not pay attention to all the Zelena gold in this arc?! 

Anyway, excited next week for Davis Bloome- I mean Hyde! 

[constitutionalweasleymonarchy]

for the writing meta ask- 3, 10, 20 would all be great to hear about! thanks (:

Hello, I’m a completely terrible person because you definitely sent me this ask about two months ago.

Part of the reason I put it off so long was #3: What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? The question then cheekily goes on to say “consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway,” so of course, what did I do? Sat around trying to figure out a way to write the thing I can’t be arsed to write, and then when I still didn’t do it, sat around feeling annoyed about it.

Anyway, I wondered a bit about what scene that really is for me, and honestly I think it has to be Ron proposing to Hermione, because I have these really clear little snippets in my mind of basically everything having gone wrong with whatever Ron had planned, and after that all falls to shit, Hermione learns what was supposed to have happened either through a comment Ron or someone else makes, and she basically confronts him, “Did you have something to ask me?” *staring eyes* and when after all this Ron unceremoniously gives her the little box (because he had a good plan but it all went to hell), she looks at the ring and then hands it back and sort of dazedly or excitedly implores him to “Do it properly” (because yes, I like the one knee thing, and I’m convinced Hermione would as well, though she probably acts like she thinks it’s a silly thing). And he does because of course he does.

So there you have it -- I love a good proposal but can’t currently be arsed to do any of the work surrounding this one. I actually did a Romione proposal short story wayyyyy back in the day (like 2009) where I did some version of this scene. It was just objectively bad (not because of the scene, just overall bad) and I took it down and it will never again see the light of day.

#10: How would you describe your writing process?

Long periods of drought where I don’t write anything for weeks or months except for a few measly sentences here and there, either because of being busy with RL (how rude, apparently people expect me to work and do laundry and stuff) or because things just aren’t coming together the right way on the page. It doesn’t help that I definitely edit as I go -- it’s a habit I’ve never been able to break; I can’t bring myself to do word sprints and go back and clean it up later.

Anyway, long, agonizing periods of nothing, followed by a period of time where I’ll sit with my computer for hours or days on end, drinking my weight in tea and absolutely ignoring everyone and everything else while I churn out an entire short story.

A cactus. My writing is a cactus.

#20: Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

I like how I sit around thinking about all the (not actually very clever, probably) things I do in my writing, and then the moment someone actually asks me this question I forget everything I’ve ever written. The second I post this response I’m going to remember something I wish I’d said. 

I don’t know whether this counts as symbolism or some other device that my midnight brain currently can’t name, but in Irrational I do a thing with Percy’s glasses; they’re like a sort of security blanket. He touches and adjusts them unnecessarily, which is a fidgety, nervous thing to do with excess energy, especially because he’s so laced up -- but it’s also a sort of reassurance, almost like making sure they’re still there, like a shield. He takes them off at some key points when he’s getting really vulnerable in conversation with Audrey.

I think it’s fun to tie fics of mine together that otherwise don’t have anything to do with one another, by setting them in the same timeline/universe and referencing some of the same OC’s. Audrey’s dad in Irrational, Jack Greene, has a cameo in Must Be One of Arthur’s Boys, and he’s also going to be a significant character in a new fic I hope to start posting to AO3/FFN soon, which is about Eileen Snape and has absolutely nothing to do with Percy and Audrey’s storyline. Similarly, Arthur’s Boys has a scene that references the infamous stag night for George, which is a thing that George and Ron tease Percy about in Irrational.

Actually, if you got me started, I feel like I could talk about Audrey forever. I mean, I love that Percy gets paired with someone who is devoid of canon information except a name, so really she’s an OC and it’s amazing to see all the different approaches to her. I created her for Percy. I asked myself, who’s this person he’ll work out with better than anyone, who actually loves and respects him (because we don’t do unhappy relationships here) -- and I was dissatisfied with an Audrey who is either a carbon copy of Percy or a foil to his personality meant to “fix” him or challenge him or loosen him up or whatever. So I have all these thoughts about why I believe this version of Audrey works with Percy, as well as a lot of feelings about how I’ve deliberately written her to be very ordinary -- not bold, sassy, bitter, sarcastic, or otherwise special, and definitely not Not Like Other Girls (TM) -- and tried to write a realistic romance that could happen to anyone, that just so happens to be set against the backdrop of this extraordinary world where unreal things happen.

Ooh, also, I can’t very well ramble about this, because it would give it away, but “clues for future scenes” made me think about this, so I’ll drop this tidbit here: A character in Irrational has (unwittingly) already figured out the answer to the exploding wands situation -- and mentioned it in a conversation without even realizing they’re right.

Thank you for the asks!

[calpalirwin]

Blood is Thicker Than Water

Summary and A/N: Our little family has a very strong understanding that biology only goes so far. The rest of the world seems to be a little bit slower at grasping the concept, especially now that the twins are born. AKA: the pissed off Ashton fic

Word Count: ~1k

And away, and away we go!

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“So, before we delve into the interview here, congratulations are in order. Ashton, you just became a father. How’s that’s been adjusting to being a first-time father to twins?”

“Biological dad,” Ashton amended, his jaw tensing ever so slightly. “Uh, but it’s great. A little hectic admittedly because there’s two of them this time around. But, my wife and I couldn’t be happier with the newest additions to our family.”

“And are the twins going to call you ‘daddy,’ or are we still sticking with ‘papa’ like your stepkids call you.”

Again, Ashton’s jaw ticked, tongue clicking in his cheek, his fingers curling into fists. “Henry and Hope will eventually call me ‘Papa’ just like Mason and Bailey do now,” was the tightly controlled response.

“Wonderful, wonderful. And I bet Luke’s being plenty helpful in showing you the ropes of how to bond with your kids, like he learned to do with Posy.”

“I’m sorry?” both men asked, leaning forward slightly, certain their ears were playing tricks on them. There was no way their interviewer could be this dense.

“Well, Luke, I imagine your bonding experience with Posy was different from yours with Lily. And I imagine Ashton’s is very similar.”

“No,” Luke shook his head quickly. “No. The bonding experience I had with Posy was the exact same one I had with Lily.”

“Yeah, and I was in the hospital with my wife when she had Bailey. I’m not sure what you’re trying to insinuate here. That our bond with our ‘step’ kids is somehow less than the one we have with those who share our DNA?” Ashton put air quotes around the word ‘step’ and physically gagged on actually saying it.

“Well…”

“That’s such bullshit…” Luke muttered under his breath, giving a sad shake of his head.

“Say that louder, Luke,” Ashton encouraged, his eyes flashing dangerously.

“That’s bullshit,” Luke repeated in a stronger tone. “There’s so much more to being a parent than DNA, and to suggest otherwise is downright insulting.” The blonde unclipped his mic, setting it down on a small end table beside him, before rising to his feet. “We’re done here.”

“Exactly,” Ashton nodded in agreement, but not rising to his feet before taking his chance to give the interviewer a piece of his mind. “In my opinion, there is a huge difference between being fathers and being dads. I have a father. But, I am a dad. To all four of my kids. The same way Luke is a dad to both of his daughters. When you’re there for these kids every day like we have, there’s no ‘step’ anything about it. So, I believe, what you meant to say was ‘Hey, Ashton, congrats on the twins, how is it adjusting to having two at once compared to one at a time?’ because I am a parent to four fantastic kids, not two. Period. End of discussion. And end of interview.” With his final words, Ashton rushed to his feet, ripping off his mic and dropping it on the floor, before following Luke out the door.

~~~

News of Ashton and Luke storming out 10 minutes into an interview hit the tabloids like a tidal wave, to the point where the two men were directed by management to lay low for a while. It was heavily suggested that the men make a formal apology for their “unprofessionalism” and get an interview rescheduled, but after some more choice words, and backing from Calum and Michael, an apology was never made and interviewing through that particular channel again was quickly scratched off from future promo lists.

Laying low, however, didn’t stop paparazzi from finding Finn to get his side of things. “Mr. Campbell!” one of them shouted as Finn walked from his office to his car. “Could we have a quick word?”

“About what?” Finn asked, neither slowing or quickening his pace. 

“Did you find it at all irritating of Ashton referring to your children as his?”

“Do you have another team out pestering Cory with your inane questions?” Finn asked in lieu of answering. Then, “Actually, don’t answer that. No. I’m not the least bit irritated at Ashton referencing Mason and Bailey as his. Or jealous because that’s the actual word you’re looking for. No. Ashton’s relationship with Mason and Bailey doesn’t diminish my own with them, anymore than mine diminishes his. I fully agree with what Luke said about there being more to being a parent than just simple DNA. I think it’s very easy to paint biological and step parents as sworn enemies, and it is unfortunate that that is some people’s experience. But that is not my family’s experience. Nor will it ever be. And honestly, the fact that the world cannot seem to wrap it’s head around the idea that children can have 4 parents- and you’ll be smart to notice that I’m omitting ‘biological’ and ‘step’ and I do that for a reason- is frankly baffling. Actually, I would argue that it has far more to say on those who would willingly shit on the concept of children having multiple parents who love than unconditionally than it will ever say about how my own family operates. Now, if you’ll kindly excuse me, I’m on my way home to see my wife and kids.” Finn’s calm and steady tone gave off the impression that he was bored rather than annoyed, his words holding no malice, only simple fact. 

He opened his car to get in, but paused briefly. “Oh,” he added, a thought coming to him, “and when you put this in the latest celebrity/entertainment news, if there is even the smallest indication that you diminished anyone of my family member’s relationship to another family member’s, or twisted my words in any way to suit your own narrative, I will personally make sure you see the end of this riveting career you call journalism. And yes, that includes any mention of the word ‘biological,’ ‘step-relationship,’ or, God forbid, ‘real.’ And if you have to think about whether or not it qualifies, chances are it doesn’t. Any questions? No? Good. Have a nice rest of your evening.”

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