#this post might get a ficlet

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.

steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.

eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.

so steve is all over eddie, it seems.

at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.

so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.

robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?

eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.

it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?

- robin and steve

“Steve.”

“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“

“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…

Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”

To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”

“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.

“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”

“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“

“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”

To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.

“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.

“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”

“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“

“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.

“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”

She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.

He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.

After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.

“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”

He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.

“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“

“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.

“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“

“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”

Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.

“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”

“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”

“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”

- later. steve’s house. to be continued?

#just been having steddie post season 4 thoughts #been missing the era of the fandom just sort of starting during that time between vol 1 and 2 #how every fic had their own little way of resolving the upside down/vecna problem just written into afew small paragraphs #really just getting to know these characters as a pairing #most importantly before seeing them as a couple #seeing them as friends #how they would genuinely interact and get along #what their dynamics would look like #steddie early days truly have my whole entire heart #coming onto tumblr the weeks following vol1 of s4 was magical #anywho yeah non vol2 compliant steddie for you #more so just #eddie didn’t die steddie for you #they become friends bc truly i actually believe that had he lived they would have #it just makes sense #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #robin buckley #dustin henderson #also lmk if i should keep adding to this…might abyways bc i’m enjoying this #steddie fic #steddie fic idea #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction

[yeraskier]

There's something almost calming about watching Jaskier when he orgasms. It's always so loud, and intense, and powerful; it leaves no room for anything else.

It's as if his body is absorbing every bit of chaos that surrounds him until he can't take it anymore, and then he simply... releases.

Geralt's had the pleasure of experiencing it many, many times now, and it always has the same impact on him, if not stronger each time. It's addictive, makes him wish that he could spend all of his days, every day, his only purpose in life being to bring Jaskier to orgasm.

And it's possibly making the person in the room next to them homicidal because this would be the seventh time tonight that they’ve banged on the wall, and shouted insults at Geralt and Jaskier for being too loud.

Jaskier’s chuckle turns into a gasp when Geralt slips out of him— the slide slippery, the sound lewd.

Geralt grunts as his body hits the mattress, finding that he's aching in the way he always does after several rounds with the bard. Very few people can tire him out, but it is no surprise that Jaskier manages to be on that short list.

"Outstanding as always, dear witcher."

"Hm."

"And verbal as ever," Jaskier teases as he sits up. "Your ability to be so nonchalant and quiet after sex with me is becoming quite offensive, I must say."

"This is how I normally am."

"You had a lot to say an hour ago when I had my lips wrapped around your cock."

Geralt shrugs, "I was inspired."

Jaskier rolls his eyes, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes as he sits up and begins searching for his pants.

Geralt admires his back (and his backside) as he moves, eyes trailing over the—

Wait…

Wait.

Geralt doesn't panic, okay? Living the life he lives, he doesn't have that privilege, but right now, laying in this bed as he watches Jaskier get ready to leave— fuck, he might be panicking.

Because Jaskier never leaves after sex, not since after the first few times, at least. And yes, he isn't necessarily obligated to stay, but he always does, and so does Geralt, and now he isn't.

Why?

Why is Jaskier not talking him into cuddling right now?

Why is Jaskier not attempting to get him into the now-cold bath in the corner of the room?

Why is Jaskier not going on one of his very detailed post-sex rants that Geralt pretends to despise, even though they both know he gets invested each time?

Why is Jaskier not falling asleep right now? Hogging up all the bed space and stealing the blanket while using Geralt's chest as a pillow?

Geralt remains as still as possible, barely twitching out of place as Jaskier pulls on his doublet. He may not feel normal about this, but he can sure as shit act normal, even if it isn't normal.

"Alright, darling, I'm going to go fetch us some water. Be back before you can miss my presence too much," the bard announces, throwing a wink over his shoulder before practically skipping out the door.

The words settle him, but only for a few moments before he's ready to panic over something completely different because why did he care so much about Jaskier possibly leaving?

Sure, Geralt has become almost as fond of the after-sex things as he is of the sex-sex things, but he doesn't need them. He won't break down into tears without them.

Except...

That's sort of exactly what he was ready to do just now.

Okay, maybe Geralt wouldn’t have cried, but he definitely would’ve bothered… upset, even.

And he knows this because even with the knowledge that Jaskier is coming back, even knowing that Jaskier only left so he could make sure they both stay hydrated, Geralt is, in this very moment, bothered.

Which isn’t good. At all.

Because the last time he got bothered by someone leaving, it was Yennefer. And he was only bothered because.

Well.

But that wouldn’t make sense, would it? Because Jaskier leaves all the time. He leaves Jaskier all the time. They part for months on end, and Geralt lives.

So what if Geralt has begun to notice that it gets a little harder to willingly go every time they part ways?

So what if his mood during the months where Jaskier isn’t around is shittier than usual?

So what if his mood when Jaskier is around is better than usual?

That doesn’t mean anything. Sex puts most men in better moods, that doesn’t mean he’s in love with the bard.

Not that feelings would mean love. Because a little crush doesn’t equate to love.

Not that Geralt has a little crush, or any crush of any sort. Because he doesn’t. Because he can’t.

Because what they have now, friendship and lust and comfort, is the best thing that has happened to him in a while, and he will not ruin that over catching feelings, of all things.

He doesn’t have feelings for Jaskier, so he can’t ruin anything.

“I don’t have feelings for Jaskier,” he says aloud, into the empty room, but the words feel heavy on his tongue.

I can’t have feelings for Jaskier.

“I don’t have feelings for Jaskier,” Geralt says again, but this time, it comes out as a growl.

Please, don’t let me have feelings for Jaskier.

“I do not have feelings for Jask—”

The door opens, and Jaskier walks in with a wide smile, and that spark of electricity that follows the bard wherever he goes bursts in behind him.

Jaskier takes easy steps towards the bed, and it’s like he’s moving in slow motion.

Geralt desperately wants to run. He doesn’t.

He remains still as Jaskier sets down the pitcher of water, and the cup in hand, and fills it up to the brim before turning to Geralt with a disarming gaze.

The rim of the glass in Jaskier’s hand is pressed to Geralt’s lips, and the witcher takes in the sight before him.

Those wide blue eyes, and that disheveled hair, and those pouty lips— he realizes that he could probably draw every single feature of this man’s face perfectly without even looking, and he’s never drawn a day in his life.

I can’t.

“Well?” Jaskier says, “drink up.”

Geralt parts his lips, and Jaskier’s eyes drop, and Geralt’s heart thuds so loud, it seems to echo throughout his entire body, and Jaskier smiles wide, as if he heard it.

I do.

Fuck.

#i hate this so fucking much #like the idea was there and thats the only reason its being posted but the execution is making me gag #writing really is like a muscle or whatever the saying is #clearly ive lost some of my pizazz but i will work to get it back #sorry :( #but i might make a part 2 #idk like i already had more planned out but it got too long and this was supposed to be a ficlet soooooooo haha.... haha #i just ended it right there with geralt realizing bc i love to torture you guys clearly .... #jk the part 2 really will come this time since i already know what i wanted to do (if you guys want it) #this was mostly to just write something just to Write because ive missed writing sm #the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #my writing #geraskier

[discobrainrot]

PERCEPTION (Hearing) [Trivial: Success] - Uh-oh...

1. What do you mean by "uh-oh"? What's happening?

PERCEPTION (Hearing) - Footsteps. Heavy, thudding, angry footsteps are heading your way.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - The sound of RCM-issue boots against the Old Silk Mill's floor is unmistakable. Only one person in the building can make his brisk walk sound intimidating from across the bullpen. Satellite Officer Vicquemare is headed your way, and he is not pleased.

COMPOSURE - I don't mean to alarm you, Harry, but you might want to put on your best "I'm Innocent!" face. Fast.

1. [Composure - Formidable] Keep it together, man. 2. [Drama - Impossible] Feign absolute innocence. 3. [Esprit De Corps - Godly] Why is Jean mad? 4. Just let it happen. He'll fill you in.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Godly: Failure] - Where to start? Since you returned from sick leave, you haven't submitted your paperwork on time. Your desk is a mess. You lost his pen the other day...

1. Okay, I think I get it...

ESPRIT DE CORPS - ...You chew your lunch at an alarming decibel. You remembered how he takes his coffee, but not anything else about him. You're closer to Lieutenant Kitsuragi than him these days. You can't figure out what's wrong. God, the list goes on and on, Detective.

DAMAGED MORALE (-1)

LOGIC - No time to worry about it now. He's at your desk, and he does not look happy.

JEAN VICQUEMARE - "Is this your idea of a joke, Shitkid?" He growls, slamming his RCM issue ledger on your desk. A flurry of loose papers drifts up as he does, emphasizing the sorry state of your desk.

1. "I have no idea what you're talking about."  2. "Yeah! Pretty funny, right? Just like old times! ... Right?" 3. [Logic - Challenging] Figure out why Jean is mad, for real, this time.

LOGIC [Challenging: Success] - You open Jean's ledger, flipping through forms and case files.

VICQUEMARE'S LEDGER - Most of the names are familiar. You and Kim have helped him work on some of the more recent ones.

EMPATHY [Impossible: Failure] - Is he upset that you're working with Kim? You thought he didn't want to work with you anymore.

PERCEPTION (Sight) - No -- look, there! On the most recent closed case!

VICQUEMARE'S LEDGER - Jean's most recently closed case (THE FOOTLOOSE FIGHTER) stands apart from the rest. Not only because of the exceptional detective work he demonstrated but because of a small addition to the first page. A yellow sticker in the shape of a star, no more than 1.5cm x 1.5cm, has been placed on the top right-hand corner. The words "Good Job!" are printed in the centre.

HALF LIGHT - He thinks you put it there to demean him.

1. What?! Why?

LOGIC - Because when you complete a task, you get a sticker. Either dispensed by lieutenant Kitsuragi or yourself.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - This is based on the concept of positive reinforcement. After displaying the desired behaviour, you're exposed to positive stimuli. Several varieties of positive reinforcement exist, including natural reinforcers, token reinforcers, social reinforcers, and tangible reinforcers.

VOLITION - As it stands, you receive star stickers of various colours with phrases such as "Good Job!" and "Great Work!" and "Wow!" when you complete your paperwork, drink enough water, eat on your lunch break, and a variety of other tasks.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - It's not as fun as speed and booze, but I'll take all the damn dopamine I can get.

EMPATHY - As you look up to meet Jean's eyes, there's no question about his feelings. The pockmarked skin of his cheeks is practically glowing red from rage and embarrassment.

PAIN THRESHOLD - He doesn't like that you need these infantile rewards to do the bare minimum. The assumption that he needs them as well? It's more than he can take.

1. But I didn't put the sticker there!

DRAMA - He's not likely to believe that, ssssire.

1. [Rhetoric - Impossible] Explain that you didn't give him the sticker. 2. [Suggestion - Godly] Calm him down. 3. [Half Light - Medium] Lean into it and make fun of him. 4. [Composure - Legendary] Keep your cool and brush it off.

RHETORIC [Impossible: Failure] - Oh, god, Harry, there's nothing you can say to make this better. But, thankfully, it seems like someone's coming to your rescue.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Khm. Officers." At some point, while you were withering under Jean's glare, Kim arrived at your desk. "What--"

OFFICER JEAN VICQUEMARE - "I'll tell you what's going on!" He snaps before Kim can get the whole question out. "Shitkid over here decided if he has to go back to fucking kindergarten, the rest of us are going with him! Isn't that right, Harry?"

YOU - "Jean--"

JEAN VICQUEMARE - "Don't you Jean, me." He points a finger in your face, hissing through gritted teeth. "You think everything's a big joke, don't you? Well, let me tell you, I--"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Officer Vicquemare." Kim cuts him off, holding up a gloved hand.

PERCEPTION (Sight) [Challenging: Success] - The tips of the lieutenant's ears are turning red.

KIM KITSURAGI - "I... Think I understand what this is about. I-- Khm-- I apologize."

JEAN VICQUEMARE - "You don't have to go around cleaning up Shitkid's messes, Kitsuragi."

KIM KITSURAGI - "I'm not 'cleaning up' after detective Du Bois." He sighs, taking off his glasses to clean them.

VISUAL CALCULUS - They're already exceptionally clean.

KIM KITSURAGI - "This is about the sticker in your ledger, isn't it?" Having spent enough time dawdling on the left lens, he moves on to polishing the right. "He didn't put it there. I did."

JEAN VICQUEMARE - "...What?" The reaction is delayed, as though he's trying to parse a hidden meaning to the lieutenant's words.

1. "... What?" 2. "See, Jean! I was trying to tell you I didn't do it!" 3. Say nothing.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Khm. Yes, well..." Donning his glasses again, Kim looks just about anywhere except in Jean's direction. "I... overheard you the other day saying that you felt unappreciated."

CONCEPTUALIZATION - He's summarizing quite a bit. You were also privy to the tail end of Jean's self-deprecating muttering. It's a little concerning how little he thinks of himself - and that's coming from you.

KIM KITSURAGI - "I assumed that a more... overt display of recognition would be unwelcome. I see now that I overstepped professional boundaries - it won't happen again."

1. [Rhetoric - Formidable] Back Kim up. 2. [Half Light - Trivial] Throw Kim under the bus. 3. [Esprit De Corps - Challenging] What's Jean feeling?

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Challenging: Success] - Officer Vicquemare is an experienced officer and resourceful man. The RCM is lucky to have him. You are fortunate to have him. He can count the number of times someone told him those things on the one hand.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - In short, he doesn't know what to feel.

1. [Rhetoric - Formidable] Back Kim up. 2. [Half Light - Trivial] Throw Kim under the bus. 3. [Esprit De Corps - Challenging] What's Jean feeling?

RHETORIC [Formidable: Success] - This is difficult for me to say, but… Words won't be as effective as actions in this instance.

1. Give Jean a pat on the back. 2. Punch Jean's shoulder (gently). 3. Hand Jean his ledger.

JEAN VICQUEMARE - He opens and closes his mouth, unsure what to say to either of you. Looking between his ledger and Kim, he eventually decides to take it from your hand.

JEAN VICQUEMARE - "It's... alright." He mutters. "Your heart was in the right place. I'm uh..."

JEAN VICQUEMARE - The look he gives you borders on horrified.

1. "Don't worry about it, Jean." 2. "Oh, this'll be good! Apologize. Make it worth my time." 3. Say nothing.

JEAN VICQUEMARE - "Good. I won't." He stiffens, steeling himself behind the bulwark of rage. "I--I have more important things to be doing! Get back to work, Shitkid."

KIM KITSURAGI - Once Jean retreats to his desk, Kim practically collapses at yours. His gloved hands cover his ever-reddening ears, and he lets out a groan only you can hear.

KIM KITSURAGI - "I can't believe I did that." He mutters, looking almost as ashamed as Jean.

COMPOSURE - The lieutenant keeps his shit together with far, far more grace than Jean.

1. "What are you talking about? I thought it was sweet!" 2. "Yeah, Kim, you shit the bed." 3. [Empathy - Challenging] Peek at what Jean is doing.

EMPATHY [Challenging: Success] - Jean sits at his desk across the bullpen. His cheeks are still flushed despite his best attempts to temper himself. 

ESPRIT DE CORPS - He can't focus right now. Instead, he runs his fingers over a little yellow sticker on the top right hand of his paperwork. 

EMPATHY - It's not a jab, but he won't be able to believe it. Not yet. But this is a step in the right direction. 

INLAND EMPIRE - One day, a day closer than any of you realize, he'll start to believe that people do care about him. The road from there is long and fraught with pitfalls and setbacks. 

VOLITION - You know that better than most.

INLAND EMPIRE - But you'll be there. And so will Kim. Your time in this world is limited, and you're more intent on making the best of it now than ever. 

1. "I think you did the right thing, Kim." 

KIM KITSURAGI - He looks up from your desk, eyebrow raised (but not yet to the level of psionic control).

1. "Trust me. I he needed to see people believe in him. Especially someone like you."

KIM KITSURAGI - He looks over his shoulder to Jean's desk, taking a long moment to silently observe him. 

EMPATHY - He doesn't know Jean like you once did, but he trusts you. 

KIM KITSURAGI - "...Fine. But I think I'll limit my sticker-giving to you and Officers McLaine and Torson."

1. "That sounds fa--Wait! Since when did Mack and Torso get stickers?!"

KIM KITSURAGI - He heaves a deep, long-suffering sigh that you know is more for comedic effect than anything else. As Jean looks up across the room, he doesn't notice the hint of a smile pulling at his lips. 

#disco elysium fanfiction #disco elysium fic #disco elysium ficlet #jean vicquemare #kim kitsuragi #harry du bois #harrier du bois #harry dubois #harrier dubois #someone please give jean a hug #i've been thinking about that post where its a sticker sheet and says “when ur bf has a praise kink” #and like the difference between how hdb and jean would feel about getting stickers #and i should be doing other stuff rn #but i did this instead #so read it #i might post this on ao3 at some point???? #but for now its just here #also its like 1.5k words lmfao

[serenescribe]

in 2024 i will finally write that goddamn summary post of my twst dæmon au. someday. sobs.

hey feel free to poke me about it, maybe that'll kick me into working on it more—

#ell rambles #for reference i made the au around march/april of last year iirc? #very shortly after getting into twst basically #i have art of the dæmons. i need to name half of them tho. i have. 4? ficlets? #im just lazy when it comes to writing up au summary posts T-T #also uni starts again soon so i might go into a writing drought again #BTW WHEN I SAY DÆMON I MEAN. HIS DARK MATERIALS #not demons/devils though those are cool too #but like the au where people get an animal companion that reflects their soul?? connected to them?? that thingy

[millenniumringg]

Um what if I told you I have a cowboy au brewing in my head

#and what if I told you I might post it to ao3 soon bc literally the collection of ficlets are rapidly being produced #riding the wave riding the wave #millenniumringg art #cowboy au #angstshipping #gemshipping #idk what the three of them are called but #what if I also told you #this cowboy au is conspireshipping……….. #wink wink wonk wink wonk #and no you’re not getting context for the bandit Keith thicc horse doodle

[drbtinglecannon]

Keston John describing Darius' orderly tendencies as "precision" was cute not just as a distinct word choice to describe it, but also Darius himself would absolutely refer to it like that

Like, imagine after Hunter moves in and in Hunter's own habits he immediately cleans dishes after using them, but at first (and maybe even intentionally after a while) it results in light-hearted bickering if something is put out of place.

--

The soft clinging of utensils jostling as the drawer opens is the only sound before --

"That's not where that goes, Bookworm," Darius calls from the living room.

Hunter rolls his eyes. The first few nights he found Darius' hyper attention to detail intimidating, now it's simply a mild annoyance. Even after all these weeks he still has no idea how Darius can tell if a single thing in his precious kitchen is placed in the wrong spot without even being present to witness it.

Living with Darius' neuroses has its benefits though.

Namely, he can be annoying back with only amusement as the end result.

Hunter pats Flapjack's head as a warning to not startle his companion, then throws a hand out to grab at a random cabinet door and toss it open as loudly as possible without damaging anything.

The following sigh brings a smirk to his face.

Hunter leans against the counter with his arms crossed as he waits the half minute for Darius to stroll around the corner into the kitchen. His guardian crosses his own arms and nods in Hunter's direction. "Is this how Mrs. Noceda kept her kitchen? Storing a ladle in the same cabinet as the mugs?"

"Yep," Hunter says with an exaggerated 'pop' at the end. He ignores the disagreeing trill next to his ear.

"How quaint," Darius drawls, then points to the swirling purple ceramic vase on the counter currently holding a few other large utensils. "The ladle goes there, exactly where you grabbed it from."

"Yeaaah, I was thinking it looks better in the cabinet."

"No."

"In fact, I think the entire kitchen could stand to be rearranged." Hunter pushes off the counter to look around fully, making a big show of hemming and hawing over specific details. "Such as, why are the knives in a block on the counter where anyone can reach them? I think they should go in the drawer thing under the oven. And all of the pots and pans should always be stacked on the stovetop, saves time from having to pull one out or put them away."

"Oh my Titan..."

"I also don't think there's a need to put glasses on one shelf and mugs on another, I mean they're all cups, what's the difference?"

Darius brings a hand to his temple. "Stop."

"Actually! Now that I think of it, why can't spoons, forks, and butter knives all be stacked in the same slots in the tray together? They don't need to be separated!"

Hunter finally turns to look at Darius and barely holds back from laughing at the utterly affronted expression he's met with.

"You're a heathen, get out of my kitchen."

"Eber would agree with me."

"Eber thinks piles of leaves and sticks make an adequate bed, his opinion on how my kitchen is arranged means nothing."

Hunter holds up his hands, careful not to jostle Flapjack too much in his excitement. "I'm just saying, maybe it's ok to put the ladle in the cabinet with the mugs."

"Get out," Darius points towards the stairs. "Go to your room and think about what you said."

"Oh no, not my room, where all my books and my scroll are!" Hunter clutches his chest with one hand and throws his other against his forehead. "Whatever will I do!"

"You'll stop trying to destroy my kitchen, that's what."

Hunter walks past Darius out of the kitchen and towards the staircase with Flapjack jumping from his shoulder to fly closely behind him. After a few steps, he leans down to yell, "I'm telling my team about your ridiculous neatfreak standards again!"

"It's called precision! I am being precise about how things are arranged in my home, like any rational person!"

"Uh-huh, sure!" Hunter calls out. He can hear the grumbling from downstairs all the way until he reaches his bedroom door, and only once he's closed the door behind him does he start laughing.

#toh #darius deamonne #toh hunter #i totally did not mean to write a ficlet but here we are. i might do another of darius w eber & raine over this same word choice #anyway totally subscribe to hunter gets adopted by darius & eber lives there too but i wrote this as earlier in their dynamic post canon #i think part of being comfortable & loving others is being annoying & being annoyed & i think hunter has earned the right to be a bit of #a brat w no real consequences yknow. ANYWAY wish keston got more darius specific questions but i still loved the bits he did get #the owl house #my writing #tinglecannon writing #oh also i decided post canon darius calls hunter 'bookworm' & 'birdie' as new nicknames cuz 'little prince' (while super cute) refs belos #fanfic #the owl house fic #toh flapjack #tc posts

[ferra-to-my-faberge]

eddie has a new client. he doesnt know who it is. all he knows is there was a note in his locker saying "meet me at the bench -a new client" the handwritings shaky, like the writer had been hesitant. needless to say, hes curious.

steves fucking stressed. hes popular now, cool, nice, except jesus fucking christ he hates it. hes mean to people now, hes meant to not like anyone who isnt popular. hes meant to laugh at people now not with them. hes been trying his best to get some relief but nothing hes tried has worked. so, he tries a last resort; drugs.

#if like one person says they want it i might turn this into a full ficlet #possibly #idk i crave attention and i like writing badabing badaboom #plus i just saw a post abt eddie being steves drug dealer and FINALLY SOMEONE GETS IT #IVE HAD THAT IDEA FOR SO LONG #so :^ this is me making sure the idea gets spread #like butter #god im incoherent rn #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #steve x eddie #ferrafooling #st #pre s4

[partrin]

For the prompt exercise: Accidental kiss with RinHaru? (Or it can be also a Rin x F!Reader, which one you prefer).

tags: crack. domestic shenanigans. misunderstandings.

hello! i hope you don't mind that i chose to write rinharu (i'm not very comfortable with writing first/second pov).

also, for context, rinharu here are not in a relationship, but live together for the ease of traveling to and fro their club and overseas together (small plot device). hope you enjoy! here goes nothing:

they exited the pharmacy by late evening, bathed in mosaics of orange-gold sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves from a nearby tree as soon as they set foot on the pavement, plastic bags weighing their arms down. they had just spent an entire afternoon stocking up on groceries to fill the empty belly of the secondhand fridge in their newly shared apartment, and as a result of placating rin's ridiculous whims (or derisive complaints, rather) about how haru would live a better life if he "took better care of his image for the sake of his cellibate, non-existent love life", haru had pulled rin into the pharmacy, insistently, to make a very... small purchase of what he thought would solve at least part of what rin's meddling had been about.

"i still can't believe you picked cherry," rin mumbled begrudgingly, stopping in front of a lone vending machine by the side of the street.

haru watched as he fed change into the machine and jabbed a finger at the keypad, waiting impatiently for the machine to spit out his preferred isotonic beverage. the machine whirred. they peered through the glass and observed as the conveyor rail rotated, nudging a bottle of pocari sweat to the forefront, but only barely. in an anti-climactic state of unrest, rin groaned with a little stomp of his foot—the bottle had tilted and was now resting, slanted, against the glass panel, on a strike against falling over into the pick-up box like it should've.

"motherfucking—" rin screamed through gritted teeth, completing his outcry with a hard kick to the base of the vending machine. "that was my last dollar, damn it!"

haru blinked once, far from ruffled by rin's petulant display of emotion. he reached into the pocket of his jacket and groped around, fishing out several coins and the plastic packaging of the purchase he'd made earlier.

"they only had cherry left," he said belatedly, reaching out to drop his coins into the cupped hand that rin had instinctively held out. then, because he could, he added: "get me a bottle too; there should be enough change for us both," as he began tearing open the packaging. the plastic gave, and into his hand plopped a small pink tube. he uncapped the tube and twisted its base, watching curiously as the product rose like a phoenix from the ashes. it was pink, but in a much darker hue than its tube. and there was glitter.

lots of it.

rin straightened up mere seconds after haru had swiped the product over his lips generously, handing him his bottle. he cinched his brows, commenting offhandedly, "whoa, haru, that's—you're going to town with that chapstick! just a little will do, geez."

haru pursed his lips, smacking them several times before recapping the tube and accepting the bottle rin had gotten him. he narrowed his eyes, plastic bags rustling as they hung precariously from his stiff wrists. he curled his fingers, mild tension radiating off him like heatwaves as he said, "you whined about my 'ugly, chapped lips' and how they 'ruined my handsome face', so i bought the chapstick to fix it—and if i bought it, then i'll use it. however i like."

"alright, calm down," rin yielded, raising his hands in a gesture to show that he hadn't meant any harm. "i was just saying. use it however you like, i guess. just—so how do your lips feel?"

haru schooled his expression, reverting to his regular, nonplussed self. he darted out the tip of his tongue to taste the glittery sheen on his lips. it tasted of menthol, and well, cherry. "cold," he replied tentatively, "and sweet. very sweet."

rin grimaced like he'd just witnessed a passerby take a shit on the street. "gross. we should've gone to another store and checked out if they had any other options instead of going with that one."

"it's not that bad."

"yeah, but you know how i feel about sweet stuff. kinda makes me gag, almost."

haru huffed, eyes rolling towards the darkening sky. "you're exaggerating," he said matter-of-factly, before repeating, "it's not that bad." when he noticed that rin's face was still contorted into somewhat of an unconvinced frown, he offered, for added measure: "taste it."

rin's eyes widened, slowly, like he couldn't believe what he'd heard. haru, quite frankly, didn't understand it. all he had suggested was for rin to reach into his palm, retrieve the little chapstick that had warmed in his fist and—

his thoughts were interrupted.. rather rudely, in fact, by the soft press of plush, hesitant lips; the gentle, almost velvety sensation of them fading even quicker than it had begun. and only then did haru realise that he had ceased breathing for a bit, taking in a lungful of air with owlish, unblinking eyes and a heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird. it was slowly but surely, like the slow bloom of flowers after a glacial winter, or the rising of the morning sun at dawn, occurring to haru what had just happened. and he wasn't sure if he liked it, because—

rin had—

did he just—

what the hell was rin—

"did you just," haru rumbled, gutturally, feeling a tether of his sanity snap and fray like a worn-out nylon rope, "kiss me?!"

and rin had the cheek, the absolute gall, to look scandalised, sputtering and fidgeting and vibrating like he hadn't been the one to just lay a thick one on haru's lips when all haru had meant was—

"i meant, to put the damn chapstick on and taste it for yourself."

"you didn't say that!" rin squeaked defensively, looking like he wanted the concrete to crack and split and swallow him up, only to spit him out on Planet fucking Mortificatio because that's exactly how he felt at this very second—embarrassed! mortified! like the world had presented him with the one option and he'd still managed to fuck it up, except the world (haru) had presented him with only one option, just unfortunately NOT the one rin had gone with. "you could've said literally a-anything else and i would've—but you—you said to taste it and i just—i thought maybe you meant—"

haru closed his eyes and took a deep, exasperated breath. he counted to three, would've counted to at least a thousand if he hadn't been able to regain his composure by then, but then he opened his eyes, recovering his bearings, and raised the clenched fist that was curled around the little chapstick tube, dropping it, unceremoniously, into rin's trembling, outstretched hand.

"taste it," he said again, gritting his teeth so hard he could foresee the imminent migraine. the vein at his temple twitched.

rin scrambled, fumbling as he quickly uncapped the tube like a toddler learning to open containers for the first time. he twisted the tube with shaky fingers and swiped the chapstick over his lips so nervously and haphazardly that he'd pretty much left a large, messy line of chapstick all over his lips, smeared beyond the outline of his mouth like some sort of bootleg joker. then he lowered his hand, looking at haru unsurely.

"how is it." haru deadpanned, no upwards inflection of any sort indicating it had been a question.

"i-it's—it's—" rin paused, rubbing his lips together like an old man that had forgotten his dentures. "...it's.. actually not that bad.." he sealed the tube and looked up, meeting haru dead in the eye. haru was staring at him so intensely he forced himself to lower his gaze in shame. "haru, i'm really sorry for misunderstanding you. like, it's.. i was so stupid for thinking that what you said meant anything but what you actually meant, and i just thought—"

but haru had mentally checked out of rin's sorry, self-deprecating rambling. he took a swig of his drink, turned on his heel and started trudging down the path towards their shared home, only vaguely paying mind to the sputtering that was gradually beginning to ease into silence. a dog in the distance barked as if to beckon him forward, and he resolved to begin stalking towards it, but when he noticed that rin hadn't moved, hadn't followed him like a small, apologetic puppy with its tail between its legs that didn't want to be reprimanded for tearing the couch apart, he paused in his step, turned his head over his shoulder, and said, "if we're going to be living together, you'd better get used to the taste of cherry." and then he continued walking as if he hadn't said a word at all.

and rin, who still felt like he needed the universe to cooperate and let concrete shapeshift into quicksand, widened his eyes again, this time because—huh? what did.. what did haru mean by that? was.. was living with him going to become awkward from here onwards? would rin... regret everything—rooming with haru and what not—because he'd made a foolish attempt at.. accidentally kissing haru? would haru make an attempt at his life for stealing his, what, kissing virginity? most importantly, what the hell did haru mean?!

but there was only one way to find out, and so he steeled himself, wiggled the fingers around the plastic bags that were wearing him down, and started walking.

#free! #rinharu #matsuoka rin #nanase haruka #drabble #ficlet #i kinda enjoyed writing this #like.. i will NEVER get sick of writing panicked rin #or of writing haru's very cryptic dialogues #might post this on ao3 #this was.. much longer than i'd planned

[kjack89]

“I think she finally caught me.”

Grantaire’s voice was small, and hoarse, and Enjolras made a small noise of confusion without looking up from his phone as he lay next to Grantaire in bed. “Who caught you?”

“Miss Rona.” If possible, Grantaire managed to sound even more miserable, and he pillowed his head against Enjolras’s shoulder. “After three years of hunkering down—“

“Two and a quarter,” Enjolras murmured.

“—three years of staying home and not even going to the bar, and do you know how hard that was for me?” Grantaire raised his voice slightly. “Three years of being safe and taking every fucking precaution and now COVID finally got me.”

Enjolras cleared his throat. “I’m not exactly sure that I would say that you took every precaution—“

“Are you really judging my best attempts at COVID precautions in my time of need?” Grantaire asked indignantly. Enjolras tactfully chose not to say anything, and Grantaire sighed. “You should go, you know. If I’m positive, I’m contagious, and my antigen test isn’t scheduled until tomorrow.”

“If you’re positive, I’ve almost certainly already caught it from you,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire made a face. “Still, you should go. I’m no fun tonight and I know you only came over because you were hoping we were gonna, y’know.”

“Grantaire.”

“And it’s not that I don’t want to, believe me,” Grantaire continued, letting out a hacking cough before adding with an attempt at his usual bravado, “Miss Rona cannot keep a good dog down, if you know what I mean.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “I very rarely ever do.”

“But I’m cranky and feverish and honestly I’m not sure I meet the legal threshold for informed consent right now, so—“

“Grantaire.” This time, Grantaire didn’t try to talk over him, and Enjolras set his phone down before telling Grantaire, “I didn’t come here for that.”

Grantaire blinked. “You didn’t?”

“Joly called me, gave me the head’s up.” Enjolras shrugged. “And since I’ve spent the last two nights here and might already be infected anyway, I wanted to come over and keep you company.”

“You wanted to keep me company,” Grantaire repeated slowly.

Enjolras arched an eyebrow. “Does that surprise you?”

“Kind of.”

“Well, it shouldn’t,” Enjolras said firmly. “We’re, I mean, y’know, we’re—“ He gestured wordlessly between the two of them. “So I think that this is part of the deal.”

Grantaire squinted at him. “Am I hallucinating?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Grantaire, I’m being serious.”

But Grantaire just kept looking up at him, a slow smile crossings his face. “You’re here because you like me.”

Enjolras stared at him. “We had sex less than 12 hours ago. I think that’s kind of obvious—“

“No I mean you like me. Like, like like me.”

“Is this the fever talking?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire just shook his head, grinning. “Are you trying to say that you’re my boyfriend?”

Enjolras blinked. “Um. Yes?”

“Well,” Grantaire said, after a long moment. “You’ve got a helluva sense of timing.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes and turned to kiss Grantaire’s forehead. “Maybe now would be a good time to try to get some sleep.”

Grantaire just grinned, closing his eyes. “Whatever you say, boyfriend.”

Enjolras shook his head, but the look on his face was fond as he rested his cheek against Grantaire’s head. “Whether the coronavirus has you or not, I’ve got you. So get some sleep.”

“Sap,” Grantaire whispered, and Enjolras just smiled and kissed the top of his head again.

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #Enjolras #Grantaire #drabble #fanfiction #Les miserables #ficlet #long post for ts #guess who might have covid it’s your girl #so permit me this little bit of nauseating fluff #until I get tested tomorrow #and learn my fate

[ashthedrawer]

•OC FICLET•

Characters: Venus (she/her), Maddox (he/him), Alzena (she/her), Una (he/they), Ensio (he/him), Nyssa (she/her), Reese (they/them), Astley (he/they)

Characters in purple all belong to @jiphenn

“Camp.” Venus came to a stop in front of Maddox, her shiny brown eyes locked on his dull black ones. She wrinkled her nose. “You smell like camp.”

Before anyone could think to react, she leaned towards him, hands closing around his shirt, and started to tug, pulling him forwards from his spot on the bed.

“Hey, let go of me!” Maddox pushed at her and tried to wriggle free from her grip, pulling back as much as he could with her inhuman strength.

“Your back!”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Alzena tried to yank her off of Maddox, resulting in Venus raking her claws across Alzena’s face. With her other hand she clawed Maddox’s shirt open, the fabric falling in shreds around him.

Una sent out clones to pin her down and Ensio opened his hand, another animal popping into existence. A tiny black bird darted towards her and within an instant, Venus was gone again, trapped back in the shadow room. Meanwhile, Nyssa ran out, going to get Reese.

She returned with them in tow, looking tired as usual as they ran in behind her, quick to heal Alzena’s face, which fortunately wasn’t bleeding too much (thanks to Shehani).

“What happened?” Reese looked around between the group, their voice evident with tiredness, confusion, and concern.

They all went silent.

Maddox’s back was open and exposed to everyone now.

The letters and numbers AX68299H were tattooed clearly onto his skin in pure black ink.

“What is that?” Astley blurted out, eyes fixed onto his back. Maddox was absolutely silent.

“It’s my camp number.”

#Christina is a literal genius with her plot points istg #this really ate I have to admit #this WIP is dreadful though sorry 😔😔 #anyways I might start posting snippets of WIPS I have every day to try and get out of this writers block 😇😇 #because it’s really kicking my ass #dioles tag #oc: Venus #oc: Maddox #oc: Alzena #oc: Reese #oc: Nyssa #oc: Shehani #oc: Astley #oc: Una #oc: Ensio #my ocs #ocs #oc blorb #oc ficlet

[pyrriax]

fic writing seems like so much fun. do you have any tips for getting into it and/or developing your writing skills in general?

honestly? i will just recommend starting. write anything that comes to mind, little interactions or even just transcribing canon stuff!

i started writing fic because i have a daydreaming Problem and wanted to share what i come up with with people, so the ideas were already there.

but! with really developing your skills it's writing consistently and reading a bunch that can help with that. i read so much and kind of take mental notes of the things i enjoy other writers doing, whether it's the way they structure things, or even just something like how they write a specific character's speech.

don't be afraid to write things that you think are bad, because starting is the hardest part.

also, if you have trouble finding an original idea, don't be afraid to write something derivative of somebody else's work! just ask if the person minds before posting it & credit appropriately. but, that's a good place to start if the setup for a concept gives you trouble. one of the things that really got me started was a project wholly inspired by somebody else's work.

(a personal recommendation: start with smaller things, oneshots & connected oneshots rather than a bit multichapter project, it can be a bit crushing to realize you can't execute something how you want to at the start. but, plan it anyways. write down the idea anyways, just know that it might not turn out right away. also: if you start posting stuff on ao3, i recommend hiding stuff like kudos, hits, and comment numbers, it helps make it a more positive and less number-driven experience <3 i can share the siteskin i use for it if you want!)

#ask a ghost #asker: anon #it might not be the best advice but it's what i've got! my experience is Not universal and my advice might not help #but above all else: keep your expectations low and let yourself be pleasantly surprised by what you're capable of. #that's just general writing advice but it holds true! #honestly this made me think about making a post for putting my random plot bunnies out there. gotta set those things loose #OH and also! find people to talk to about the writing process! i found a few communities that encouraged me while i was learning #it helped a lot to have the reassurance and getting the occasional bit of advice from people. #i know “just try it” isn't the best advice but it really is the way to go about it. i started with 500 word ficlets and did that for ages #hmm...... im trying to think of advice and realizing i am probably repeating myself! but that's okay. i do that a lot anyways #pyrr tries to give advice (it might be working it might not be)

[2hoothoots]

I wanna say that I absolutely loved your Paris affair fic, very well written ❤️❤️❤️. I was wondering if you were ever gonna make more fics like that with multiple chapters and or taking place in the future with other agents working together or with just Norma and Raz again.

thank you so much!!

i'd definitely like to do another multichapter fic at some point in the future, it's just a case of finding the time and energy and finalising what i actually want to write. i really loved writing The Paris Affair, but it was also a ton of work because the longer something is, the exponentially more time it takes. there's a lot that goes into writing a longer fic like that - plot, pacing, flow, themes, suddenly realising things don't make sense because a change you made in chapter 2 has a knock-on effect in chapter 4 which you needed to set up chapter 5, so now you gotta come fix this plothole - anway, it's a lot. rewarding, but a lot!

i've got a few longer fic ideas on the backburner at the moment. one of them's the intern road trip i think i've mentioned before, and i feel like i know the big plot beats for that one, it just needs, like, a theme. i need to really let it sit and figure out what speaks to me about the story before i can get it down on paper. the other one i wanna do is a mission fic with the FSAU trio! that one's ticking away nicely, but i want to hammer out a few more of the setpieces (because i want it to be full of cool action and stunts and shit)

#i've been so bad at finishing longer stuff recently as well. maybe what i need is a writing buddy #someone i can throw my unfinished wips at to help me get excited about finishing them up #having a beta for TPA was incredibly helpful in keeping me focused (and also Caligraphunky is just a great beta) #in the meantime i've really been enjoying writing shorter stuff #an idea grabs me and i bang it out in a day or two and then it's done #(i've been posting lots of kinktober ficlets on the other blog wink wink) #anyway yeah for the longer stuff it really is just waiting for the ideas to finish cooking #i can't sit down and Write it has to be ready to go. i need the ideas to jump up and grab me before i can get them into words #i might try and make a start on the mission fic over winter break though. i'll have plenty of free time and nothing to do with myself so... #asks

[i-am-become-a-name]

What's your interpretation of the weird/annoyed look Five gets on his face when Tegan announces that she wants to rejoin the TARDIS at the end of Arc of Infinity? I know it was probably meant to be played for laughs, but it annoys me every time i watch that episode and i'm curious what headcanons people have about it.

My favourite thing I've read about it pointed out that the cybermen specifically used Tegan as a weakness against five, that she's what it took to manipulate him (and through no fault of either of them, Adric's death was part of those consequences.) The novelisation really goes in to the descriptions of the doctor transfixed with the blood running down Tegan's chin from her bitten lip, the building tension as the cybermen get closer and closer to killing her and he's shaking trying to hold himself back from admitting his hearts are so easy to twist, just by threatening his friends. (Does Nyssa ever leave the TARDIS when it's on the spaceship? The cybermen don't even know she exists til they come onboard do they?)

As for why he looks so annoyed? hmmm. Does anyone want someone around that constantly needles them? Really, I think pre Arc of Infinity that even though Tegan had chosen to stay, they still had that power imbalance or even just tension between them that she had not come on board willingly. So five is expecting that to be the continuing, I don't know, continuing manner between them and it hadn't been good. It had its moments (mainly in the audios) but as an arrangement it was not ideal as friends to explore the universe together, all that terrible beauty and awesome monsters.

But it doesn't continue on in that manner - oh they bicker and make faces at each other, sure, but Tegan's conscious decision to step back onto the TARDIS irons out those imbalances, removes that bitterness and the past of her aunt's death. So when he makes that wee face, it's in expectation of the previous status quo. And never let it be said that Tegan's one to do exactly what's expected of her.

Anyway I really hope this makes sense and I may add some more thoughts later but it's 1:50 am Christmas Eve and I couldn't sleep for thinking about this.

----

It's 2am I'm back. I feel like there's also this uneasiness in five about tegan, that mirror that no one likes being held up to themselves. Their similarities but the starkly different ways they express them must be exhausting to five. and here she is back again. To push and prod and challenge and be brashly beautifully glorious. wait. that last bit was the two am shipper coming out. Anyway they draw strength and resolve and anger from each other and Tegan was vital to five, from his first moments till his very last.

#again sorry if it's not coherent but it's been a WEEK. and it's still going. #look away if you're not interested because whatever it's my boring life stuff but. worked sunday and tuesday. thursday my boss texted me #did i want to go up to the next largest city flights and accomodation paid and worked for two weeks at their branch of our shop. #(i said no thank you but holy sht.) and that whole day we'd been taking the house apart looking for dads santa outfit for reading #night before christmas to the kids. utterly gone. nowhere to be found. sister said she had one so we were like oof we can relax it's fine. #sister did not in fact have one. so we took the house apart again. still not here. friday i went out and bought the fabric and fur to Make #one (six straight hours work on the jacket alone) and the kids come up to decorate their trees. #oh! and! when i went in to work to buy the fur (i can only purchase stuff of managers it's store policy) she was like. you can't leave the #shop. stay here. and i went no???? have i done something wrong??? but another manager came down and the managers had put together little #Christmas gift bags for everyone which is so sweet because i still feel like I'm there on sufferance even though it's been like 4 months. #but then. seven o'clock or so when i was still cutting up panne velvet i get an email from the boss who offered me the chch opportunity - #he's now quitting his position at our store. two weeks notice. so I'm stressed about that because we had a good thing going where he'd text #me once a week. we'd arrange extra shifts and that was it. what if the new store manager sucks or hates me or something?? #and I've got like five half finished advent fics but i just. don't have the spoons between work tired and c19 brain fog and christmas tired #anyway none of this is about five and Tegan I'm so sorry i just need about ten more weighted blankets on me. #five #tegan #an ask a palpable ask #srsly i love being asked about them or any dw opinions you are so wonderful in my eyes #tbh the advent fics are getting to the point i might just post them all the way through January and when i write little ficlets. people #seem vaguely to be enjoying them but trying to do a December thing was a bit much. #I've just realised this week was even longer. last Saturday we spent the whole day out of town with the kids. and Tuesday we went out of #town to do the stuff we'd planned to do before we had to babysit them on our planned trip day. jfc no wonder I can't brain straight

[yuckydraws]

Im gonna need some ao3 stories to start updating 🔫🔫

#/lh obvi - pls take your time authors I love you muah muah #*conveniently averts my gaze from my own fic that hasn’t updated in over a year* 😅 #tbh tho I’m in a writing mood and just might get all these repressed story ideas I’ve had out in the open #SO MANY ONESHOTS #and ofc #HWC #and perhaps I’ll finally get to the bodyguard fic 👀 #or a ficlet I’ve been planning #anyways #what was the point of this post? #… oh yeah - I RAN OUTTA READING MATERIAL #I AM FREE FROM MY SHACKLES #BE WARNED AND RUN #FEAR ME

[catzy88]

As a 90s kid, I kept coming back to a fic idea based on the 90s/00s teen movies where the popular guy starts dating the unpopular girl because of a bet. Naturally, the girl finds out about it at some point. Cue drama and angst, but the guy is remorseful and apologizes to the girl with a big gesture, like running after her to an airport just as she's about to take off. She, of course, forgives him and they kiss and live happily ever after.

Now, imagine this, but with McEichel and a lot more dark and angsty.

Psst. Here's a playlist of the songs I was listening to while writing this:

The Smashing Pumpkins - Never Let Me Down Again

The Smashing Pumpkins - Bullet With Butterfly Wings

Red Hot Chili Peppers - Parallel Universe

My Life With The Thrill Kill Cult - A Daisy Chain 4 Satan (Acid & Flowers Mix)

Oasis - Talk Tonight

Jack seduces Connor at the Combine and steals his first everything. (First everything except going first at the Draft.) Jack just wanted to see if he could do it, and because he was jealous of Connor getting drafted as the overall #1 draft pick. But for Connor it was real. He fell in love with Jack, hard. And when Jack suddenly, and cruelly, saying it was just a game, dumps Connor, he goes into a downward spiral.

Connor starts partying a lot, so much so that it starts affecting his hockey, too. The hockey world is shocked: The Next Next One, the Savior of Hockey isn't saving anyone, the least himself. Sex, drugs, and hockey, baby! Before Jack, Connor was a good Canadian boy, but after... After, he becomes a shameless slut, snorting coke at nightclubs, getting into bed (or any surface, really) with anyone willing. By the time the World Cup of Hockey rolls around, approximately one third of the NHL has f*cked Connor McDavid more than on the ice.

But Connor is still madly talented, so he's selected to team North America. And sure, Jack has been vaguely and uncomfortably aware of what has been going on with Connor. (The NHLers are a bunch of gossips.) But he hadn't imagined it would be this bad. He observes from the sidelines Connor's erratic behavior, but things don't come to a head until one night, when the Young Guns are celebrating a win at a club.

Connor had disappeared early on, but at some point in the evening Jack sees him near the bathrooms with some guy who is aggressively pushing Connor against the wall. The guy seems to be saying something into Connor's ear, and with a smirk he takes both of Connor's hands into his and pulls Connor into the men's bathroom with him.

At this point, Jack sees red. He's not even really sure why, because he doesn't care about Connor, but this is his team mate. If nothing else, he needs to make sure Connor doesn't do anything that compromises the team and their chance to win. So, he goes after Connor and the guy to the bathroom. What he sees there, makes him absolutely livid.

The guy has Connor bent over a sink, with Connor's pants halfway down, and the guy in process of getting his own pants undone. The thought that couldn't they have gotten at least to a stall where everyone wouldn't be able to see them, hysterically makes it's way to Jack's head. His feet move him without him even noticing, but in the next moment the guy is on the floor, holding his face where Jack had punched him.

Aside from getting the guy away from Connor, Jack decides to ignore him and turns to look at Connor. Connor who is staring at Jack with eyes blown wide and mouth open. His pupils are dilated and he's sweating, but he's still the most beautiful thing Jack has ever seen. And suddenly he doesn't remember why he ever left Connor behind.

And sometime after that, after they've gotten back to the hotel and Connor has sobered up, they have that much needed talk they should've had ages ago. It doesn't magically make everything okay, because Connor will still have to battle with addiction and Jack will have to earn Connor's trust, but it's a road they're willing to take. Together.

#mceichel #hockey rpf #my writing #this is what i did instead of sleeping 🙈 #but this fic idea had been bugging me for days now #so i had to get it out #as pretty much always with my imagines and writings #you are more than welcome to use this ficlet as a prompt for a longer fic or whatever #but if there is going to be e*plicit stuff #which with the ficlet being what it is #there very well might be #just remember that i prefer bottom!connor 😘 #p.s. #the only reason i'm censoring words is because i don't want tumblr to eat this post 🤦‍♀️

[secret-bug-pain-blog]

@febuwhump Day 8 - ALT PROMPT - Lightning Strike

"With brutal strength and extreme resilience, this type of Lynel somehow surpasses Silver Lynels in sheer power. It is said they are actually Silver Lynels who mysteriously transformed after being struck by lightning. If you see one, get away as fast as you can."

-Sheikah Slate Bestiary, Breath Of The Wild.

Back again. Slightly late. In our defense we were In Transit. This is from the universe of Flesh, Bone, Blood, Magic, if a bit... far forward. If you see any inconsistencies: don't worry about it, the plotting for this has been going somewhat slow, and it'll probably be explained in future ficlets. It's fine.

The cublet leaped.

Kasa's breath caught in her throat- had the shapeshifter gone mad? It knew how difficult of a fight that a Lynel could be - she had taught it herself, spar by spar against its unending energy. She might not have cared for its antics, but that didn't mean she wanted to know if it could die.

Its talons grasped at Squall's sides as its limbs warped, spawning joints to keep up with his movements as a dragonbone copy of a Moblin's long-blade stabbed at his back once, twice, thrice-

-and the cub-thing was thrown to the ground as Squall twisted, wolf-muzzles still forming from its sides as it tried to tear at at his sides on the way down.

He pointed his many-blade spear at it, its flesh still warping and twisting as it tried to form wolf-heads to snarl at him. She could see the water evaporate off of his pelt as he reared up, preparing to finish the shapeshifter off-

Kasa roared, thundering into him and catching his spear shaft in her blade. The nameless thing scrabbled out from between her hooves as she reared up, kicking at Squall's underbelly with her thriplegs. She could feel the fur on her back began to raise, an electric sense of power swelling from something behind her.

She had to end this quickly. Otherwise, she feared, she wouldn't finish it at all.

The dragon was coming.

Her fur stood on end. Sparks flew from her weapon, stinging against her pelt. She could taste ozone on her tongue as the green-scaled dragon began to crest the path, lightning arcing over its scales.

Squall gave her a smug look, stepping away from the edge, and she planted her hooves, readying herself to charge. Lyr made an undignified choking noise, tossing their sparking weapon to the side behind her, but she stood strong. The dragon's lightning had not jumped to her blade while the cublet was playing with the great wyrm. She trusted that it would be the same here.

She could feel her fur stand on end as she raised her sword, fire coming to her throat as the sparks reached a climax, the dragon turning its great head towards her-

It burned.

Were you to ask Kasa a few days ago what the worst pain in the world is, she would have laughed and told you it was the impact of becoming a silver-mane. The change from black-pelt to silver-pelt was long and painful, as any silver-pelt could tell you, Lynel or not - the days of pain and transformation, the feeling of pure Malice seeping into your flesh and bone, the agonizing sensation of your very soul being tempered in rivers of Kingsflesh.

It was slow, raw, corrosive. It sunk into the very last cracks of your being like pouring molten copper into an ant's nest, leaving deep purple stripes in its wake as it carved out vessels for strength. It stretched you to your very limit to accomodate the mark left, and even once the enhanced strength it offered had settled in, it left you feeling burnt and hollow for weeks afterwards.

To be blessed by Malice's King was a heavy burden to bear, and the days of suffering of her own transformation were still fresh enough in her mind that she could bring them to mind as sharp as the day it had happened.

And this was worse.

The blinding light of the bolt hit her blade, ripping through her body in an instant as if she were being set on fire. The world turned to white, blinding nothing, every nerve and shred of magic she had lit up in a single second. If she screamed, she couldn't hear it. If she dropped the blade, she couldn't tell. The world was pain, and everything that wasn't horrible, unrelenting agony was whited out as every scrap and shard of her burned.

For an instant, time didn't matter. An eternity stretched out into a second, trillions of years of agonizing, burning pain pressed into a second of time. Her pelt lit up, divine lightning burning through every part of her essence. In an instant, divine power was scorched into the deepest depths of her being, electric and brilliant, playing on every whisker and strand of fur, etched into every strand of muscle, conducted through every ounce of her body, through her blade and back again.

A second. An hour. An unending, agonizing eternity.

Kasa staggered, but she didn't fall. Her blade fell to her side, its metal turned to something bright, shining, malachite blue-green. Her body sparked, leftover electricity discharging from millions of trillions of nerve endings.

The fire in her breast burned, nearly thrice as hot as it had been. She felt no pain.

Her fur, steaming in the still-falling snow, gleamed bright, burning gold.

Kasa looked Squall in the eyes, and she roared.

(Thriplegs: The middle set of a Lynel's limbs; the leading hooves.)

#whump #writing #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday8 #alt prompt #lightning strike #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #hi. sorry we're late. we are in germany now and spent two days not writing (transit tiring) #my posts #kasa #lyr #squall #all of hyrule poured into a single link #<cool new tag for this link before we think of a formal name for it. its a while in the future of fbbm #we Have written some ficlets for it but theyre still WIP #also we cut off like half of a fight scene in order to fit this into a reasonable space of time bc we realized that it would be like #7k words if we played out that whole thing #ao3 posting might include the full fight scene. if so it will be posted on its own. if not it gets lumped into a collection.