#did a slight god mod to get into the cabin
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Price of Knowledge (Whumpay fanfic)
@whumpay Day 4: Gore
Inscryption, Luke Carder-centric
Warnings: EYE TRAUMA HOLY SHIT. Eye trauma, gross sensory stuff relating to eye trauma (bone scraping and squishy stuff, etc.), torture, sensory overload (mainly that Thing where you’re in so much pain you can’t talk or think), non-graphic vomiting at the end. Also spoilers for the main game of Inscryption.
Notes: The uh. Eyeball sequence in Act 1. That’s all I have to say.
(I haven’t started Kaycee’s Mod yet so don’t spoiler it I swear to god-)
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Everything went red.
His body curled in around itself, as if trying to get away from the pain. He wasn’t even able to scream, just barely able to force himself to breathe. The smell of copper flooded his nose, the stream barely touching the side of his mouth and a few tiny disgusting drops crossing his lips. The hand clenching the knife trembled, and he faintly heard something hit the floor with a wet *plop*.
“Good.” The phantom shape of a person stood on the other side of the table, speaking to him with a calm and airy voice. “Now the other one.”
“…What?” He struggled to lift his head, could barely make his eye focus in the darkness.
“The other eye.”
For a long moment, he just stared up at her, trying to form a coherent response, or even a coherent thought, through the pain. This wasn’t right, he shouldn’t need to– where was he even, this wasn’t the cabin, what was going on–
“Mr. Carder, please don’t make this difficult.”
Something about hearing his own name jolted him awake, and he knew he wasn’t just trapped in the game, this was something else. The knife fell from his grip, clattering against the table. That seemed to draw her focus.
As it did, he swiped his hand, throwing the knife aside and forcing himself to his feet as fast as he could, even as it made his head spin. He stumbled backwards a step and a half before a hand grabbed at his scalp, nails digging into skin. Glaring at the figure leaning over the table, he just barely spat out, “Go fuck y–”
The side of his head slammed into the table, rattling the empty socket and making him bite his tongue. No matter how he pushed against the tabletop, he couldn’t pry himself from under her grip as she lifted the knife–it looked to be the same knife, which made no sense because she never bent down to get it–
It hurt so much worse the second time.
The first time, it hadn’t felt real. It had felt like when he’d gotten his wisdom teeth removed, where it was just the shifting movement and the pressure but none of the pain. The pain hadn’t kicked in until it was over, and at that point it was a simple all-encompassing pain.
This wasn’t like that.
He felt the blade being shoved past the skin and bone at the edge of his eye, scratching against the inside of his skull. It cut the eyeball itself as it did, slicing into the soft tissue by complete accident and sending another trickle of blood down his nose.
He felt the pressure as the knife made its way to the back and was pushed, attempting to pry the eyeball from the socket. The hand on the top of his head pressed down, holding his skull as still as it could.
(And again, he couldn’t scream. He could just gasp and whimper, one hand briefly clawing at the arm of his attacker and trying to throw it off of him.)
He felt the tugging. He hadn’t even noticed the nerve the first time, but he did now, felt the last thing connecting his eye and his face being pulled taut. The pressure on the eye and his head let up, but only long enough for a hand to reach for his face and–
He felt a slight squeeze on his eyeball. He felt the briefest cutting sensation.
His body was carelessly tossed to the floor. He let out a tiny yelp of pain, hands instinctively reaching to cover and protect the open sockets. The mix of blood and jelly-like fluid smeared on his palms, and his head being forced sideways meant that it now coated two-thirds of his face. Every time he tried to scream his throat seemed to close up, what little noise he made probably going unheard by the figure standing over him.
“Let that serve as a lesson.” Another *plop*, this one right next to his head, and he recoiled away from it. It was followed by the sound of metal hitting the floor, probably a few feet away. “Don’t go looking where you’re told not to.”
---
The feeling of cold metal on his forehead did little to ground him.
Luke heaved again, but nothing came out this time. His arms trembled as he braced himself against the bathroom counter, and he’d resorted to resting his head against the running faucet. He hadn’t been sleeping well for a few nights, and he didn’t really have waking up from a nightmare needing to puke in him.
One hand traveled up his face, gently pressing at the dark bag under his eye. He could still feel the curve of something round beneath the skin, something resisting the light pressure he put on it. It was still there. Not that he should’ve needed to check, it should’ve been pretty damn obvious if it was gone. But instinct was instinct, he supposed.
He really needed to quit digging into that game. It seemed to be messing with his head.
Luke finally raised his head and saw his own half-asleep reflection. He stared at it for a while, holding his breath. Then, he slammed one hand on the counter and screamed.
He screamed the way he’d tried to in the nightmare. He screamed to let out the stress of the past several days, of countless rabbit holes and dead ends. He screamed for everything that sat in his chest, every minor annoyance at his day job and every loose shred of grief that you could argue led him to this point.
When he was done–when it finally died in his chest–he slammed his hand against the counter a second time, sucking in a deep breath. “Fuck… fuck.” He gagged, and he doubled over the sink again as he spat up a mouthful of bile. A cough rattled his chest, and he wiped his forehead.
He’d revisit this again in the morning. Maybe he’d throw that game out, maybe he’d decide that whatever this was would just continue until he reached the end. But for now, he needed to sleep.
#my writing#whumpay2023#fanfic#inscryption#inscryption fanfic#luke carder#eye horror#ask to tag#was gonna be like 'yeah obviously I'm a luke carder enjoyer have you seen-' but I haven't. actually posted the 'fics I was gonna point to.#trust me if you've seen the horror series rambling I was doing late last year then you KNOW that this. checks out#daniel mullins handed me a dumbass (/affectionate) horror protag poking where they shouldn't#followed up with 'enthusiastic over his interests' 'annoyed with the weird happenings' and 'polite while asking folks for info'#and THEN capped it off with 'he started doing YouTube to cope with the grief of losing his sister who was his card game buddy'#WHILE I WAS PLAYING THIS WITH MY OWN SISTER NEARBY TO HELP WITH THE PUZZLES I WAS TOO DUMB FOR#I like this guy A Lot. so of course I had to be mean to him.#what no I didn't scream a bit myself when I found out what the dagger did what are you talking about haha....
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Prompt: Ghost hunting on an uncomfortably hot summer night w/ hunters panda, ohm, n vanoss
Well, this is pretty fucking interesting and h o l y s h i t I L O v E I T !
Enjoy~ It’s REALLY long.
~Mod p
Here we go…
The only visible light came from Ohm as they entered the eerily abandoned town.
“Anthony, do you have the extra flashlight?”
Ohm could barely see anywhere past his light beam.
Evan entered behind him, holding out his own flashlight, “I had it, sorry.”
The place had several rumors around it’s origin.
The ghost town itself was a mere 30 years old before it was abandoned by the many war veterans and citizens.
It used to be called Fort Gaul… but now, it’s a simple town known as The Gully.
An old guillotine that had rusted away after 70 years of sitting had been at the entrance.
Cross vibes entered Ohm’s brain instantly, sinking his heart into the pit of his stomach.
They had gone at night, the idiots they were.
“I didn’t think it’d be this god damn dark…”
“It’s a ghost town, Ev, they don’t bring electricity to this place anymore, “Ohm reminded him.
He was the one who had met with one of the residents over the phone, listening about the frequent haunting of the town.
There were a simple five residents left here, their own generators keeping parts of the town still lit up.
Anthony huffed, scrambling through his bag and ordering Evan to shine a light into his bag.
Ohm scoured the area for any squatters or homeless people, or any signs of people actually.
No one could be found.
5 families remained here, so what side of town were they in?
“Ryne Drive, it’s a dirt road we have to find,” Ohm reminded himself, searching for a specific green sign or road sign somewhere.
Evan and Anthony finally caught up, Evan piping up with a giggle “Where to, Ohmie?”
“Ryne Drive. It’s a dirt road next to an old cabin.”
Anthony shrugged, “Is that all they told you?”
Ohm nodded and stepped into the town’s dusty road.
“I feel like I’m in some western era,” Anthony joked, adding light to their situation.
Evan could feel bad vibes crawling up his spine, “Should we just take the car and leave?”
“I knew I wasn’t imagining it, you’re feeling it too!”
Evan glanced at Ohm warily but sighed and caught up to his pace, “Ryne Drive, huh?”
Anthony seemed to be the only one not feeling such demonic vibes from the place, eyeing the guillotine before following his friends.
“Anthony, you have the spirit box, right?”
He nodded to Ohm, pulling the bag off his back once again to rummage through it.
“Right here.”
Ohm grabbed it and set it on one of the nearby broken wood fence posts.
The building that stood dark and gloomy behind it had already been falling apart.
Evan could sense an enormous weight diving onto his shoulders as he entered the deserted yard.
“Should we search here, first?”
Ohm nodded, “The locals I spoke to said this place was once the Saloon, or bar. It was run down a good 50 years ago before half the town had finally left.”
Anthony shuddered, glancing at the overgrown yard with slight disgust, “So it’s haunted, right?”
Ohm rolled his eyes, starting up the spirit box and ignoring it’s loud vibrating noises.
“Hello? Is anyone with us, right now?”
Evan shined his light at the cabin door, watching it warily as he started his chest camera.
Anthony kept his eye on the roads around them, in case someone happened to come visiting them.
The air went silent, the weight shifting away as the spirit box picked up a single word.
‘Slut’.
“What?”
Evan and Anthony glanced at each other with curiosity.
“A slut is with us? or is it calling you a slut?”
Ohm tried again, “Hello?”
‘Quiet. Be.. good.’
Evan huffed, “Is it an evil spirit?”
Ohm glanced at the cabin windows, shining his light over it’s broken, caved in rooftop and shattered windows.
Ohm cleared his throat, “Do you live here?”
‘Hush now…’
It was quiet for a little while longer, Ohm stopping the spirit box and holding it close to him.
“That was an odd one,” he remarked, staring at the backyard gate.
Evan followed his curious gaze, “Ohm.”
The man was already making his travel to the gate, arm outstretching towards its latch.
“Ohm, come on, Ryne Drive, right?”
He was quiet and stopped at the gate, hand moving to the top of the latch.
Anthony shrugged to Evan and followed.
Ohm turned the spirit box on again, listening intently for a response as he whispered something to it.
‘No. Stay.’
“Ohm, buddy, we need to leave,” Evan commented, worried about his friend’s safety.
A creak entered the uncomfortable air, Anthony snapping his light to the rooftop as it settled once more.
“This isn’t a safe place, Ohm-”
“Will it give us information in the backyard?”
Ohm glanced back at them, sweat lacing his face as he panted, hand grasping the spirit box tight in his hands.
Evan sighed, “What did you hear?”
“A child.”
The latch moved on its own, inviting them in as the gate crept open an inch.
Ohm crept away, frightened it had moved with such strong force, “A child…?”
“A strong child,” Anthony’s comment went ignored.
“Ohm, I don’t think it’s a child.”
Ohm glanced around at his two friends, “No, it’s something way more.”
“Let’s get out of here, then,” Anthony stumbled his way from the gate.
Ohm shook his head, “We have to find out what.”
He entered and almost dropped to his knees.
Evan grabbed his waist, on arm tucked beneath his shoulder and armpit.
“We’re leaving,” Evan spoke sternly, carrying his friend back a step.
The gate came swinging back towards the two ghost hunters.
Anthony gasped, rushing to block his view from the horrid site he imagined.
Evan groaned as he fell back, the gate shut and locked.
Ohm mumbled something incoherent as he was picked up again.
They ran out of the yard, refusing to stop until the loud static of the spirit box by the gate interrupted their retreat.
‘Get… back.’
“It turned on by itself,” Evan spoke in a hushed tone, still carrying the weak and vulnerable man in his arms.
A voice came from behind them, terrifying the ghost hunters.
“Hey”
Evan glanced over his shoulder, sighing in content when the spirit box turned off as a fourth person neared the bar’s entrance.
.”Ryan, Evan, and Anthony, right?”
Evan nodded, rushing over his words, “Yeah, um, I hate to rush introductions but are you the guy from the phone?”
He nodded in response, “Ryan doesn’t look good, did he go inside?”
Anthony shook his head, “He went in the backyard!”
“People don’t usually come back from there, follow me,” the man wore a simple t shirt with ripped pants and sneakers.
Evan trudged along, Ohm helping to carry his weight only slightly.
“You okay, Ohmie?”
Ohm offered a smile, his breathing was shallow and slow.
Evan offered a reassuring smile back, hoisting him up more on his arm and shoulder.
The person stopped by a well kept farm house, “My wife and our kids stay in the house next door, but I made sure to prepare this house while you explore the town.”
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Mike, I go by Big M here though.”
Anthony smiled, holding out his hand formally, “I’m Anthony. The man in the red jacket is Evan and the other is Ohm. Or Ryan.”
Mike nodded, moving aside so they could enter their temporary farm house.
Ohm and Evan rushed inside, Ev settling the older man on the semi-old bed.
Ohm laid there quietly, shifting onto his stomach and letting out quiet sighs.
“He should be fine in an hour or two,” Mike said, “Thank god, he didn’t get possessed.”
Evan glanced over sharply, “Has anyone been possessed there before?”
“My wife’s sister suffocated as soon as she was. She had only stepped onto the porch for a second.”
“My condolences,” Anthony spoke softly, offering a soft smile.
Mike nodded, “I was hoping you’d convince it to leave or something. No one leaves or enters because of that bar and it’s dumb guillotine.”
“What is it?”
Bi M huffed, “Was hoping you’d figure that out. Could be Satan’s demons…”
They all took a seat near the bed, old rickety but cozy home-like chairs around a wooden table.
Evan piped up, “How long have you lived here?”
“My mother moved here when she was 20, I was a baby then. Been here about 30 years now. That same building has always been haunted, don’t know the exact years though.”
Mike continued with a frown, “I lost a friend at 5 because he entered the backyard and climbed up the apple tree back there. Jumped off, head first.”
“Was he… possessed?”
Mike shrugged, “I think so, he was a jolly person usually.”
“Sorry,” Anthony spoke out.
Big M smiled and nodded, “’s okay, you get used to it. I’ve known ten people who have died near that building.”
“Is it the only building?”
Mike shook his head, “The old, rotten bank was replaced with a new one last year. But they can’t destroy the old one, everyone who steps in its premises is just… gone.”
“This is extreme, the most dangerous case of haunting we have yet,” Evan spoke, warily glancing at his friend, “But I guess someone’s gotta do it, huh?”
Anthony shrugged, “Are we going to be able to help the locals out?”
Mike spoke again, “The one at the bank hates woman, it also hates food.”
“Food and woman?”
Big M nodded, “I don’t think it’s the same demon as the bar.”
“Let’s hope it’s not. Especially with how it’s bared down our friend.”
Mike spoke softly, quietly, “Is he a… medium?”
Anthony sighed but nodded, “Not usually something we tell people, but he can speak with them as well.”
“The best out of ya three?”
Evan nodded, “Though Anthony’s usually better with female spirits.”
Anthony chuckled, “I’m quite the lady’s man.”
Big M chuckled himself, a light glistening in his eyes that appeared full of life but disappeared into lifelessness once more.
Evan knew he had to help these locals, they’d been living terrorized all their lives.
“Who can tell us as much as possible here?”
The local spoke, “Old Senorita Casein.”
Evan glanced at him curiously, “How long has she lived here?”
“Over 70 years now.”
“Ever since it turned into a ghost town?”
He nodded, “Her mother was the mayor of the town before she was born. Her father helped find that little creek out back, need for fresh water and all that.”
“Has she been possessed before?”
“Yes, Sally.. she’s now mute and blind.”
“When?”
…
(I never continued this and left it sitting in my drafts, sorry)
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Can Claire and Jamie go camping? I think they need a getaway.... :)
Flood my Mornings: Vermont (i)
Notes from Mod Bonnie
This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
See all past installments via Bonnie’s Master List
Previous installment: Round and Round (A day out at the fair)
Late June, 1951
James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser was an impressive sight at any time of the day or year.
Naked, silhouetted against a bright summer moon; the curve of leg and hip and scar all gilded into sharp edges by the glow of the fire behind him… he was positively primordial, ancient man surveying the vast wilderness.
“God, it’s just…..”
He didn’t finish the sentence, just stood there on the verge of our mountaintop, taking in the sight of the sleeping valley below.
I could have finished the sentence for him, though: …like home.
The Green Mountains of Vermont—or this section of them, anyway— were quite similarly beautiful to those of Scotland. The main difference was the trees, of course: in contrast to the sparse, heathered slopes of Jamie’s birthplace, every inch of these mountains was covered in lush forests that spiced the air with the tangs of evergreen and leaf mold. Still, looking out across the horizon, the ranges had that same rolling and dipping quality, that sense of movement about them that felt so much like the Highlands. One could almost imagine looking down into one of these valleys and seeing the roof of Lallybroch below, enticingly belching smoke from the fires of Mrs. Crook’s promised supper.
—and I supposed that Jamie was doing just that.
I left him to dwell in the serenity of the moment, there at the top of the horizon. My own peace was complete, astonishing in its sensory fullness:
the beauty of the night, of the rolling valley far below,
a warm breeze across my naked skin, the same that swelled the forest into a rustling, shushing chorus,
the afterglow of lovemaking pulsing gently through me, there in our nest of blankets by the fire on the mountaintop,
and Jamie. Always, Jamie.
Tom and Marian had many times this year offered us the use of their mountain cabin in Vermont. Between work schedules, my schooling, pregnancy, and the general hustle and bustle of normal life, we simply hadn’t made the time for such a lavish treat as a holiday away. At last, though, with the academic term over and with the baby due in just over a month, we’d decided that getting away, just the two of us, was just the thing. Lord knew, once a nursing infant was in the mix, it could be quite some time before we could do so again.
Jamie, true to form, had fretted over me for weeks leading up to our departure, trying to call the whole thing off. ‘Sassenach, what if the bairn comes early?’….”There willna be a hospital for miles and miles. What if something happens?’….‘If ye think I can deliver a child, woman, you’re WRONG.’
But at last, he’d had no choice (short of chaining me to the house, that is) but to relent, and the further we drove westward, the higher the elevation rose, the quieter he became. His eyes got wider and wider, the glory of being among mountains soaking into him like sunshine.
After settling our things in the cabin earlier that afternoon (’Rustic,’ the Harpers had warned us)(’Better equipped than any Highland castle,’ Jamie had snorted as we walked in and saw the full kitchen), we’d made a few hasty sandwiches and ventured out for a walk before the light went. The vistas were absolutely spectacular, even more so when the skies were painted with the pinks and scarlets of sunset.
Jamie had built us a fire a few hundred yards from the house, when we got back, just near the overlook, and we’d spent hours snuggled together before it, toasting marshmallows, sipping hot chocolate heated over the coals, laughing and talking and telling stories as the stars brightened overhead.
At last, the quiet and beauty of the night had settled around us, and we’d made love there in the clearing, slowly and sweetly. For a very long time after, we’d lain panting and trembling, cocooned together in perfect calm, no demands on our time save enjoyment of one another.
….and, eventually, pragmatically, those of Jamie’s bladder.
From somewhere in the woods, there came the sound of something large moving about; a deer, I thought, since Jamie was not reaching for an absent knife. He did start, though, the lively night pulling him out of his trance. Assured there was no danger, he turned to me with a slightly-sheepish grin. “Forgive me, mo chridhe, I was lost in fancy.” He began picking his way across the grass back toward the fire. “Feeling alright, Sassenach? All well?”
“Very well,” I promised, “as long as you don’t make me move from this spot.” I burrowed further into the blankets in illustration. “Couldn’t budge for all the tea in China.”
“Dinna fash, lass.” He crouched beside me and provided a very entertaining view as he slid his hands under me, “I’ll carry ye up to bed.”
“No, you won’t,” I said, neatly rolling away. “We’re sleeping out here.”
“Certainly we are,” he laughed, rolling me back, “are not.”
“Why ever not?”
He gave me a look. “Ye think I’m going to let my eight-months-gone wife sleep like an animal on the cold ground?”
“It isn’t cold.” I raised an eyebrow. “And you’d not have given it a second thought, back in Scotland, would you?”
He blinked, then laughed. “Christ, you’re right,” he groaned, putting a knee down and scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve become quite the pampered popinjay in only a year, aye?”
“Well, you can earn your tough-as-saddle-leather badge back tonight. Come here,” I wheedled, patting the blankets. “Come keep your lady warm for the night.”
He obliged, coming in to settle spoon-fashion behind me. “My lady,” he murmured, precisely as I breathed, “God, a year…”
We both laughed and exhaled together.
He kissed my neck. “It’s been a wonderful year, mo ghraidh.”
“To think that this time last year…” I shuddered and kissed his hand. “No, it doesn’t do to think of what life was, last June.”
“No,” he agreed, “it doesna.”
He’d been close to starvation on the streets of Boston, scouring the streets and hospitals for any news of me, my whereabouts. I’d been—I’d just been. I’d loved my work, adored Bree; but apart from the promise of seeing her grow up happy and loved….I hadn’t much hope. Now…
“I guess that means this could almost be a wedding anniversary trip, couldn’t it?”
“Which one?”
“What?”
“Which wedding?”
I laughed, surprised. “Well, I did mean the one last year, but I guess we’re pretty close to our first as well. When would it have been? June? Late June?”
“I canna recall the precise date,” he admitted, running his hands up my thigh and onto the huge curve of my belly, “but that seems correct.”
“And our twentieth-century anniversary is the 8th of July…meaning you found me in July….and little wiggleworm, here, should be born in either July or August…” I snuggled back against him and pulled his arm tighter around me, sighing happily. “Good things tend to happen to us in the summertime, don’t they?”
He kissed his way down the curve of my shoulder. “Aye, they certainly do.”
“I’d like the bairns to know a place like this,” he murmured a while later into my neck.
“The cabin?” I had very nearly nodded off in the cozy silence that had intervened. My voice was scratchy and sleepy. “Why is that, love?”
Jamie didn’t immediately answer; and when he did, I was surprised to hear a slight hesitation in his voice, a carefulness in his words that bespoke unease. “Ye ken I love our life, Claire, aye?”
I nodded and squeezed his hand.
“It’s more than I could ever have dreamed of, let alone have hoped to have for myself, for you, and for them.” He pulled me closer with one hand and spread the other absently over my belly. “I’m so grateful,” he whispered with deep feeling, “for the safety; the plenty; our home; having the income to take care of our family in comfort; that you’re able to pursue your profession; that the bairns will be able to pursue theirs, one day, wi’ nothing like birthplace or station to hold them back…. I wouldna trade our life for anything.”
I reached behind to stroke his hip, waiting.
“…But I also canna shake some sense in my heart that—that this is how things are meant to be.”
“Naked in the woods?” I teased gently.
“Aye,” he laughed, just what I’d wanted, his unease evaporating in a moment, “exactly so.” He ran his hand across my legs, coming up to cup my breast. “Nothing but my brown-haired lass, naked in my arms…” An intake of breath hissed gently from us in unison as we felt the sudden shifting within me. “And new life, promised to us….”
We lay still, his hand over mine as we gloried in feeling little Ian moving about. I wondered if he was dreaming.
That they may be sweet, little love.
“But I suppose I meant, this out-of-door life,” Jamie said at last. “Wild, living things. Animals. Forests and burns. Hunting. Sleeping under the stars, among the hea—among the trees and the grasses. Tracking and tending the land. Mountains,” he said, with quiet intensity. “I want them to know mountains.”
I pulled him as close as I could. “We will make this part of our life, Jamie, if you wish it.”
“We will?”
“We’ll come on holiday with them as often as we can, just like this. And, eventually—Well, it can’t be all the time, particularly not once I’ve started medical training; but as soon as we can afford it, maybe we’ll have a second home somewhere wild, somewhere like this.”
“A second home?” he asked, dubious. “Folk keep two houses, then?”
“Not all, not even most; but Tom and Marian manage it, don’t they?”
“Aye,” he said slowly as he glanced up at the house, considering, “Aye, just so….But Tom owns the whole of Fernacre. Will we truly ever have the means to afford such extravagance?”
“MDs make some of the best money available,” I said, as simply as I could, “and other than being charitable and giving as much away as we can manage, I can’t think of a more worthwhile way to use that financial freedom, than to give you this.”
“….Thank you, Sassenach.” He sounded absolutely gutted with earnest gratitude, like someone that had just been handed an infinite fortune with no caveat. “Truly.”
“Well, thank me when and if I actually get admitted to medical school.” I groaned with that sudden, familiar wash of visceral anxiety. “If, if, if.”
“When,” he insisted, as he always did. “WHEN.”
We settled in, held tight together in a warm heap of love, letting sleep wash over us.
“Somewhere wi’ a mountain?” Jamie murmured just before I slipped completely under.
“I promise.”
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Fandom 5k letter
Requests:
Adult Wednesday Addams -- Wednesday Addams
American Gods (TV) -- Laura Moon/Mad Sweeney
Cabin Pressure -- Carolyn & Arthur & Martin & Douglas
Moonlighting (TV) -- David Addison/Maddie Hayes
Dear writer,
Hello and thank you for writing for me. I’m very excited to read whatever you come up with.
I do give more or more detailed prompts for some of these canons than for others – that’s not because I want some more than others, but only because for some I get lots of ideas, for others I’m more “waves arms all over the place give me more of XYZ I love in canon!!” I hope whatever I put down sparks your creativity, and feel free to reach out through the mods if you have any questions! My likes and DNWs are all the way on the bottom of the letter.
Without further ado…
Requests:
Adult Wednesday Addams
Wednesday Addams
Genres: Action/adventure, Canon-style plot, Humor, Slice of life, Worldbuilding
I belatedly discovered this webseries, and it resurrected (see what I did there?) my love for Wednesday and how the Addams Family canon runs on the endless possibilities of this loving, happily eccentric family being 100% true to themselves and the world just having to deal with it. The show was everything I never knew I wanted till I watched it, the perfect blend of Addams-macabre and cozy slice of life with bonus Wednesday navigating the world alone, without always knowing her family will back her up, and it made me crave more of adult Wednesday’s mini adventures in LA. For this canon, I’m good with gen or, if you want to write that, more of Wednesday’s adventures in dating guys who really aren’t up to the challenge, and you can absolutely have Wednesday interact with OCs I haven’t listed as part of a pairing. I’m keeping the prompts pretty short, just to (hopefully) pique your creativity, as I expect I will love any way you make these or any similar scenarios play out:
-Wednesday goes to IKEA
-More of Wednesday’s interactions with the nice interns at her receptionist job. Maybe they invite her out to happy hour, or to the beach or a club. Or maybe we get to eavesdrop while they shoot the breeze on their lunch break, possibly over barbecue-chicken pizza from CPK.
-More of Wednesday’s gigs. She already babysits and walks other people’s dogs, what else might she do for extra cash that would be both really common and seemingly ill-suited to Wednesday, except she totally makes it work for her? Cat sitting (especially if the cat belongs to someone incredibly rich whose house is full of secrets – and expensive things for the cat to knock over), driving an Uber/Lyft, becoming an AirBnB host, catering/server, working the late shift in a New Age/occult supply store where none of the woo is real…?
-Or, alternately, Wednesday finds a career that is perfect for her, in which she can have success and respect. What ever could that be and still fit into the non-Addams world?
-Wednesday tries speed dating
-Or, she runs into Brian a.k.a. chains guy (I cackle with glee every time I rewatch the bit when he tries to kiss her at the pet store) a third time – how does it not go quite as he wanted or expected this time?
-Wednesday’s family comes out to sunny, plastic, image-conscious LA to visit her and make sure she’s doing alright. She gives them a tour of the city, and LA will never be the same again.
-Wednesday takes an evening class, or goes back to school part time, or enrolls in an online degree program
-Wednesday takes a road trip, alone or with her apartment mates/colleagues/Brian/strangers she met for carpooling purposes. Bonus points if you work in real roadside attractions, or tourist traps, or famous sites/landscapes.
-It’s Dia de Muertos, and Wednesday goes out to celebrate and soak up the atmosphere. It may or may not live up to her expectations.
-If you wanted to get a bit meta and/or enjoy playing around with different formatting, what does Wednesday’s Tumblr/Twitter/Facebook/Tindr look like? Or, Wednesday gets tasked with updating company social media at her receptionist job, and she does it with her own special flair.
American Gods (TV)
Laura Moon/Mad Sweeney
Genres: Action/adventure, AU - canon divergence, Canon-style plot, Character development, Getting together, Smut, Worldbuilding
Let me preface this by saying how much I appreciate that you are willing to write for an ongoing canon! I love this pairing, and while most of my prompts are basically the same ones I’ve used in exchanges before S2 (which I am watching) started airing, let me assure you that I am 1000% fine with your fic getting jossed, or including a divergence from what we already know or how things happen in canon. You can work with the canon -- or as much of it as we have by the time you’re done writing -- or diverge in a way that works for your story. Really truly honestly it’s all fine since you are writing for an active canon, and I really truly honestly appreciate you wanting to tackle this! Canon divergences and canon-flavored-if-not-entirely-compliant stories are my jam, so please don’t feel anxious as the canon keeps unfolding, nor pressed to keep up with S2 if you can’t or don’t want to watch it right now. (I tried to keep S2 spoilers to a minimum in my prompts, but there are some spoilers.)
So *clears throat*
I ship it. Yes I do. They had me at “gimme-my-coin-dead-wife”-flicks-him-into-wall. The snarky road trip was the best thing I never knew I wanted until it happened, and I adored every second of it. They’re both such assholes and so fascinating, even if they start to mellow toward each other a bit toward the end of S1, and all the gods/magic/resurrection stuff swirling around them begs to be explored further. Also I love love love how their dynamic is about equal parts spikiness, pathos, and humor (they’re funny! and the canon doesn’t shy away from putting them in ludicrous situations), and it weaves seamlessly between those three. Plus she’s half his size yet can and does beat him up with literally one finger, and then there’s the angst of he having killed her, feeling really guilty about it, and then bringing her back.
Please give me either missing scenes from the road trip (if you can work in a divergence, that’s great - for example, I like Salim, but if you want to have him boot Sweeney and Laura to the curb and go off on his own, or Sweeney to boost his taxi before Salim catches them, or whatever else to have those two alone, go for it!), or a S1 divergence (instead of going to Ostara, they go where? to see whom? about getting Laura resurrected) or something about these two post-S1/during-S2:
-Laura discovers (how? you decide!) that Sweeney gave her back the coin after their accident – whatever happens next, some punching may be involved.
-Wednesday’s big war finally comes, and “don’t you dare die on me, you asshole” is a line either Sweeney or Laura (or both) might say to each other.
-Laura asked “What does Wednesday have to lose?” and the answer is…? (Yes, give me that sweet poetic justice. One possibility, though not remotely the only one, but as of S2E3 Laura is technically a god-killer...)
-On a similar note, Wednesday told that luckless cop that Sweeney had been against the big gods’ war from the start, and while Wednesday lies, Sweeney definitely seems to be participating out of a sense of obligation and lingering guilt over the war he ran from long ago, rather than lust for a good fight or even a dominant death wish. What if he decided to hell with Grimnir and his war and his having Sweeney kill random people? I’m guessing Sweeney too drank three glasses of mead so he can’t back out without dire consequence - but he does have a fierce, dead woman in his corner.
-They go to some as-yet-unnamed old god (feel free to bring in whatever mythology you want) in order to bring Laura back to life. Between Sweeney’s mouth and temper, and Laura’s mouth and temper, it doesn’t go well. Now one or both of them are in big magical trouble with a pissed-off deity and have to get themselves/each other out of it.
-Things happen and Laura finds herself in the position to throw Sweeney under the bus but also help/save him, and while he knows it’s only karma, he can still be pissed about it - how do they navigate this?
-Laura gets fully alive again, but traces of her (un)dead state remain – what are they, how does she cope, what price did she/he/they have to pay for her resurrection, and how does their relationship change? I’d especially be curious how it would work if they’re already a sorta-maybe-item and *then* she’s alive again and it’s weird in a new way.
-For reasons I’ll leave up to you, Sweeney and Laura have to stay put in a single place for a while and end up essentially cohabiting, regardless of what their relationship is at that point. Take “cohabiting” as literally or as creatively as you want -- in any case, I’m sure it will be marvelously disastrous and amazing.
-Slight or major AU from the opening of “The Ways of the Dead”: Laura has hitchhiked with Sweeney instead of going off in a huff with Wednesday, or she otherwise gets to New Orleans sooner, and she and Sweeney tear up the town together. Gimme bar fights, carnival shenanigans, backstage craziness with the Christian rock band (Sweeney seems to have a backstage pass on a lanyard around his neck when Laura finds him)… Maybe they even cross the paths of some loa and it doesn’t get all angsty (for what it’s worth, I think the reason the sex magic didn’t bring Laura back to life was because she couldn’t accept the truth(s) revealed during the astral-plain sex – see how she defaults straight to “this is all Wednesday’s evil plan” the morning after – not because the loa fucked them over as Sweeney said). They were actually getting along nicely in those first couple of scenes, only ribbing each other a little while still being their grouchy selves, before they got to Le Coq Noir. I wouldn’t have minded seeing some more of that.
-All the old gods hide their true appearance to an extent. A situation arises in which Laura sees Sweeney’s true, or at least old, self (I’m thinking of his surprise!poignant monologue about when he used to be a king, and the glimpse of him in full Celtic warrior mode in the S2 teaser). Or Wednesday’s war ends in victory, meaning the old gods again get belief, worship, and sacrifices. How does Laura, the ultimate skeptic even when she’s on the other side of the mirror, react? How does this new knowledge and new reality change her opinion of/attitude to Sweeney? Or to flip that around, if Sweeney were again relevant and believed-in, would that actually change his bad attitude and fix his issues (my guess is it would be complicated)?
-The power of names: for all his “dead wifeing,” there comes a time when Sweeney (has to) call her by her actual name, and that’s a tricky moment for them to navigate. Or, Mad Sweeney is almost certainly not his actual name, since true names have great magical power and so must be kept secret; Laura discovers or learns his name, from someone else or from himself; what does she do with that knowledge? Or, Sweeney gets to say “cunt” in a situation (sexual or otherwise) where, not only does Laura not peel his lips from his gums, but she finds that she can’t object, even though she knows that he knows that he’s getting away with it.
-So far in canon, it’s pretty clear that Sweeney has a lot of complicated but sincere feelings for Laura. But Laura is still pretty focused on Shadow (or rather her idealized vision of Shadow and what their relationship might yet be), whom she seems to equate with her own lost-maybe-to-be-regained life, although she’s starting to soften toward Sweeney as she realizes he’s doing things for her that are not all about getting his coin back (and her sparring match with Wednesday in “Muninn” may finally force her to accept that her relationship with Shadow died alongside her and Robbie on that road in Indiana). Tell me the story of how Laura stumbles her way to starting to feel more complex, maybe kinder or softer, really annoying for her blunt-force-trauma-personality things about Sweeney and about the notion that her dynamic with him is different from the way she tended to use men for her convenience without really letting them in in the past. Also I’m pretty sure that even if they felt the same – or sorta in the same ballpark – about each other, their relationship would still run on a lot of conflict, and I would so be here for it.
-On that note: in “Munnin” it also becomes clear that Laura has, without realizing it herself, started to rely on Sweeney. The “I trusted you” line made me think, whoa she’s too mad to catch herself doing it but this is huge for Laura, and the fact that she goes off with Wednesday (!) basically because she’s mad at Sweeney because she thinks he’s prioritizing his debt to Wednesday over her… Yeah, I would like to see that explored some more and/or to see Laura and Sweeney get to a point where they trust each other and rely on each other, and know it and accept it, however difficult the getting there and being there may be for them.
-And since I’m on the subject of Laura, you know how she’s not actually an abrasive bitch all the time to everyone? And when she is, the people on the receiving end of it sometimes richly deserve it, and anyway it’s refreshing to see a female character who doesn’t bother flirting and accommodating others for the sake of social harmony? As much as I enjoy watching her rip into people (ahem, Sweeney), I also love it when she acts differently, like her genuine interest in getting to know Salim and her joy in seeing him again in S2, or her running passive-aggressive battle of wills with Wednesday, or even her general disaffection and numbness in “Git Gone.” Her beginning to feel sympathy for Sweeney and her anger and disappointment when she feels let down by him are a part of that, and I’d love to see all that explored more. Nuance! Give me all the nuance and seeming contradictions in both Laura and Sweeney’s characters!
-My perfect AG spinoff would basically be Sweeney and Laura tooling around America, looking to get her resurrected (whether they succeed or not is up to you), stealing ever more ridiculous vehicles, arguing/fighting and having those pesky moments where vulnerability and genuineness creep in – and fucking. So yessiree I’d be down for porn, including “it’s technically necrophilia/zombiesex” porn.
-All the petty, ridiculous ways in which Sweeney’s bad luck manifests itself make me laugh (can’t help it, won’t even try), and I’m down for more variations on that theme.
-If you wanted to throw in some worldbuilding, maybe something exploring living death. Magical bargains. What kind of favor did Sweeney do for Ostara that would be worth her bringing someone back to life as repayment? What other powers might Sweeney have (he doesn’t seem on a par with someone like Wednesday and Ostara, nor is he really a god, more a mythological being/kinda-deified former-mortal)? How long can a dead wife keep going before she’s “soup”? What other superhuman abilities might dead!Laura have? Can the dead do magic? What even are the rules governing and the limits of different beings’ magical abilities?
If it helps your inspiration, you can find some of my meta and lots of tag-burbling about these two here. I have read the book though I remember it only in bits and pieces, and while I prefer the show characters and the fact that they get thrown together, you can use or riff on book material if you want. With reference to one of my DNWs, for this canon, describing Laura’s physical decay is totally fine. Also, Shadow/Laura don’t interest me except as a part of Laura’s backstory (so if your story wants to include Laura figuring out or having already figured out that pinning all her hopes on Shadow to make everything right is unrealistic, unfair, and not how it works – by all means, go for it!), and Shadow/Sweeney interest me not at all.
My one canon-specific, really strong DNW for this pairing is this: I’m not into Laura being Essie’s reincarnation/descendant or – as fanon suggests and canon hints she may be – some sort of reincarnation of Sweeney’s wife from back when he was a king in old Ireland. Reincarnation/“new love looks like old love”/“lost love found again” plots bore me, and I don’t enjoy ships that hinge on characters being somehow destined to be together. Characters having agency is my jam as much as canon divergences are. Or if your fic really needs to go there, please please please don’t dwell on the Laura-Essie-Sweeney’s-wife-of-old thing, a brief mention would be more than enough. I’m certain Laura would have neither time nor patience for the notion that Destiny Fate and All That Jazz threw her together with ginger minge, and even if it were technically true, she’d still want this relationship to work on her terms – and Sweeney obviously has a problem with Laura’s cheating, her relationship with Shadow, her personality (though he also recognizes they’re alike in many ways), and all that maps onto his anger and sadness over becoming irrelevant over time, so it’s not just about Laura. So yeah, let them be their own (grumpy, spiky, dysfunctional) people, and let Laura’s dynamic with Sweeney not be shaped solely by his past and his issues.
Cabin Pressure
Carolyn Knapp-Shappey & Arthur Shappey & Martin Crieff & Douglas Richardson
Genres: Action/adventure, Canon-style plot, Humor, Slice of life
I just want more canon-y stories with their loopy humor and their weird yet loving family dynamics among the crew. Shenanigans in mid-flight or in the tedium which precedes and the tiredness which follows them. Someone smuggles (knowingly or not) an exotic animal on-board, legal, security, medical and/or slapstick chaos ensues. A mechanical, passenger- or smuggled-goods-caused problem arises and is solved during a journey. More games played on board GERTI. Playing around with a specific destination, like in many episodes, would be a plus. If it helps inspire you, my favorite episodes in terms of tone and content are: Douz, Gdansk, Johannesburg, Limerick, Ottery St. Mary, Uskerty, and Xinzhou.
For this canon, I prefer gen with maybe, if you want to go there, some Douglas/Carolyn on the side. That’s a ship I always thought had potential – they understand each other very well and trust each other... some of the time, but they’re both also snark-masters, tend to look down on anyone not as smart or quick-witted as they (Arthur being the sole – occasional – exception), and are really good about keeping their defenses up against other people. But I requested the gen group, and I definitely want the gen group – please don’t feel pressed to write the ship, that’s just a wild suggestion I threw out there.
Moonlighting (TV)
David Addison/Maddie Hayes
Genres: Action/adventure, AU - canon divergence, Canon-style plot, Established relationship, Getting together, Humor, Mystery/procedural, Slice of life
I osmosed tons about this show over the years but didn’t get around to watching it myself till recently. And then I loved it much more than I thought I would! Yeah, sure, some of it’s dated, and some of it’s ropey in terms of how the characters interact ( all the casual sexism and battle of the sexes stuff are very 80s indeed), but the chemistry! the banter! the funny! the shiptease! Gimme!
I tried to come up with lots of prompts, but ended up with a list of stuff I love about the show – and would love to see in fic – with some prompts mixed in. Hope it helps! Basically, give me as much of the show’s “flavor” as you can, and I’ll be happy.
My two DNW requests for this canon would be: please ignore everything that happens post-S3 (so if you want to write Maddie/David in the aftermath of their resolving their UST, please go ahead with the canon divergence of your dreams, I bet it’ll be a million times better than canon), and please don’t have secondary characters (Agnes and Herbert, or Maddie and David’s relatives and exes) hijack the story. They can be in it, but I really do want a David/Maddie story, despite the canon sometimes sidelining them due to behind-the-scenes shenanigans.
Prompts/likes:
-all the banter, wordplay, innuendo, puns, comic repetition
-arguments – those long, explosive, funny, overlapping, always hilarious fights they have
-breaking the fourth wall – yes, please. In canon, they often seem to know they’re fictional characters but ones that exist in the real world, with studio lots and such. Do they now know they’re characters in a fanfic of fictional characters that also exist in the real world, or something even more mind-screwy?
-David calling Maddie “blondie blond” – it just makes me laugh – and Maddie calling him “Addison” when angry but “David” when worried or when shit hits the fan
-random cultural nods – off the top of my head, canon referenced Spanish poetry, objectivism, American realist drama, Dr. Seuss, Shakespeare, of course all the Hollywood tropes and genres; go high or low culture, go famous or obscure, even if I don’t know the reference, I want it! Ditto if you decide on a plot that parodies and pays homage to a cultural landmark story (The Silence of the Lambs? Much Ado about Nothing? A Hitchcock movie? Something else?), I’d love it!
-speaking of: I love the pun-tastic episode titles referencing everything under the sun
-all the canon-era detail which both takes me back and jars me with how much things have changed: people smoking in public buildings, seeing someone off at the boarding gate, dial and push-button telephones, VHS rentals, no cellphones/internet, all the 80s fashion and permed hair… Throw it in just for kicks or weave it into the plot (e.g., they’re following someone and only have a paper map and their own faulty sense of direction to help them)
-casefic – I love the silly plots (and chases! All the chases!), which often combine really gruesome outcomes or real violence with slapstick. I’d be especially tickled if you wrote a plot that starts out silly and seemingly innocent (e.g., they get “hired” by a kid who lost their homework) but ends up deadly serious, or vice versa
-I also love the flashes of really dark humor, usually provided by David snarking about plot developments, though my favorite example remains the intro to S3E1, with David assuring his sick mother that they’ll sweep the Emmys, and then they lost big time and we see a title card saying that the mom died on Emmy night. What can I say but: ROFL
-Maddie and David are really pretty terrible detectives, but they always manage to solve the mystery – or a solution falls into their laps – and I’m here for it
-Blue Moon almost never seems to take on actual paying clients – what else might David and Maddie do for much-needed cash? Bodyguards, extras on a movie, professional consultants on a movie (probably a really shlocky, C-grade production being filmed in the middle of nowhere), dance marathon, talent contest…
-all the shippiness before the UST becomes RST – in canon they slow-danced in a bar, they slept side by side on a plane, he’s snuck into her house multiple times when he was in trouble, etc. etc. etc. The sky’s the limit!
-maybe they get together in a different way than in canon and/or they have a relationship that departs from canon? Or how about if they resolve the UST as they do in canon, but then find a way to be both partners and lovers, without getting so wrapped up in what they each think the other one should be that they spoil everything? Basically, could they be mature enough to have a relationship that works for them both, or be friends with benefits, or hell even break up but remain each other’s most important person (and maybe still have sex occasionally)?
-tropes – the canon plays with so many tropes, you could too! Some suggestions: there’s only one bed, undercover as lovers/married/client and bodyguard, waking up married, any variation on Lady and the Tramp you can think of (including David having to pretend he’s a class act while Maddie has to play the slob, for a case or because of a situation with their families or…), they get zapped by a mad scientist they’re surveilling and swap bodies, etc.
-road trip! Oh the possibilities...
-playing Twenty Questions or another game during a boring stakeout, and personal revelations come spilling out
-Maddie’s experience as a model proves key to cracking a case, whether you want to make the whole story a riff on the world of fashion (The Devil Wears Prada parody, anyone?) or use that as a surprise plot point
-they get tangled up (again) in international espionage and go on a globe-trotting adventure, either chasing a MacGuffin or being chased – basically, get them out of Los Angeles and their relative comfort zone, and send them Indiana Jones-ing all over the world
-the show often makes 80s-typical mean jokes about Russia and the Cold War – what if a case took Maddie and David to the Soviet Union in its last years? Give me all the culture clashes, David being obnoxious and Maddie trying to be diplomatic, all the vodka, chases down frozen streets and over the frozen Neva River, dodging the KGB, sneaking around behind the scenes at the Bolshoi or Kirov Ballet and winding up on stage…
-when they visit a “rough” dive bar in S1, there’s a whole scene of David teasing Maddie to show tough-girl attitude, and she quips that she can’t wait till he has to accompany her to a high-society event. Um, yes please!
-they attempt to date like a regular couple, and stuff keeps getting in the way – whether they go to the opera/ballet and a fancy restaurant, or a basketball game and out for beers, or they try a quiet dinner and a movie at home (or all of the above!), canon-like complications keep interrupting. But then again, the ridiculous way they work is what brought them together in the first place. Bonus points if the fish-out-of-water partner ends up getting into the other one’s date-activity of choice, while snarking all the way.
-David has been to Maddie’s house multiple times – including to sleep over, both platonically and not – and they’ve both crashed at the office, but what little we see of David’s place, it seems to be a bachelor pad/hovel with a large yet mysteriously unfurnished living room. Maddie visits David/comes to spend the night/hides out with him from villains, and shenanigans ensue.
-canon often resolves the clash between David’s opportunism, happy-go-luckiness, and cockiness, and Maddie’s gentle idealism, worrywartness, and romanticism, by having David “win.” That can be funny, but what if the plot gave Maddie the right a bit more?
-I’m honestly not that into smut for this pairing - a fade to black, something implied, something referenced, innuendo, maybe brief flashes (heh) of what the characters think about/imagine/remember work much better with the canon’s overall tone, I think.
Likes:
I love pre-canon, canon, post-canon, canon-divergent, and missing-scene stories. I love character-driven and plot-driven stories equally, and I love fics which mix humor and angst/serious business when appropriate for the canon.
I love stories about characters at work and play, group dynamics, family dynamics (including constructed families), professional partnerships, friendships, alliances, rivalries, intimate couples (new lovers/first times as well as long-term/established couples), UST-ridden couples who are not just UST-ridden but connected in other ways too, etc.
I love irony, snark, humor as well as angst arising from the characters rather than the plot crowbaring it in, linear, non-linear, and 5+1 stories, hopeful endings, happy endings, bittersweet endings, worldbuilding, spiky characters who keep their jagged edges and spikiness in adversity as well as when their lives are going well, square-peg-in-round-hole characters, characters who are their own worst enemies as well as those who can get over themselves when the occasion calls for it, characters with conflicting values which may or may not be reconciled/resolved, characters who treat each other with respect and as equals even if they hate/annoy/can’t stand/love to dislike each other.
I especially love workplace stories (this can mean anything from an actual workplace/casefic/procedural setting to anything that revolves around the canon world in which the characters live) in which the characters are competent and dedicated to the job, and while they may not be exactly friends and they may well irritate one another, they still manage to rub along to get the job done and maybe even grow to care about one another (much to their surprise and sometimes reluctance/discomfort). Or, if they can’t get along, show me why not and what’s preventing them from finding common ground.
In terms of ship dynamics, I love (where it fits the characters) banter, competitiveness or antagonism shading into attraction (this tension need not be resolved), oh-god-why-did-it-have-to-be-you-what-did-I-do-to-deserve-this, bickering yet loving couples, faithfulness, characters who are serious about their romantic interests, characters who think they are much better at flirtation than they actually are, characters forced to work together only to prove much more compatible than they initially assumed, fics which mix an exploration of characters’ professional and everyday lives with shipping. A dynamic I cannot resist is shipping a couple who are incompatible in some important way (they are ideological enemies, cop and criminal, spies from opposite sides, one betrayed the other or they betrayed each other), and while they love and want each other they’re also not willing to change sides or surrender/compromise their identity for the other’s benefit, and how they might (or not) make their relationship work anyway.
I don’t have any very specific likes for smut, other than smut fitting the characters – show me how their canon dynamics spill over into the bedroom (or other place of congress). I also like sexual scenarios that subvert expectations a little and surprise the characters themselves (e.g., the person who’s usually quiet or more passive taking charge, the more aggressive person goes with it possibly snarking or commenting on it as long as they can). And I like sexual scenarios that contain an element of competition, antagonism, oh-god-this-is-a-bad-idea-but-we’re-going-for-it-hammer-and-tongs, not wanting to admit feelings or show vulnerability except oops it happens anyway, whether the characters acknowledge it or not, or just people getting way more into it or being more affected by it than they thought they would. When it fits the characters and their canon dynamic, you also can’t go wrong with we-both-wanted-this-for-forever-and-now-we-both-know-it-so-here-we-go-diving-in-headfirst. For het and/or slash, oral, vaginal, anal incl. pegging, manual (ifyouknowwhatImean) – it’s all good. You can go as veiled or as explicit as you like, but please avoid excessive medical jargon – I don’t find a lot of mention of “penis” or “clit” sexy.
DNWs:
MPREG, A/B/O, knotting, D/s, kinks, incest, underage, genderswap/genderbent characters, xeno, non-/dub-con, torture and abuse (this and non-/dub-con can be mentioned if the story needs it, but please don’t dwell on it in loving detail or subject any of my requested characters to it), dwelling on bodily fluids (mentions of gore/blood and come are fine), toilet humor, character bashing, issuefic, gender/sexuality/race/ethnicity/religion/ability/identity headcanons, unrequested ships, soulmates and soul marks, major character death (unless it’s canon), serious illness or injury, pregnancy and children, holiday or wedding setting/theme, secondary characters shipping the main pair like it’s their job, reference to RL current events, 1st/2nd person POV, AUs which have nothing to do with canonf
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