#fics i haven't written meme
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[Sweet & Sour Dipplins]: I have had this meme on deck for literal months & I can finally share it
Well, it's at least how I view it lololol. So we got a little less than 24 hours before the Big Reveal (aka the start of the climax of the story), so I just wanted to give this one for the road. xD
I am both excited and anticipatory about releasing the chapter! But I am hoping it's a twist that feels intriguing to read, and either way, I am super appreciative of all of you for supporting my work. Seriously. The fic almost has a 30,000 hit milestone & I just passed a 400 page mark with Chapter 20. I would've never, never imagined being disciplined and motivated enough to continue a story for this long, let alone fathom the overwhelming amount of celebration for an idea that has been able to evolve so much because of the way you have all nurtured it and my passion.
Writing has always been a passive passion of mine, and I feel more and more encouraged and inspired to go for a bucket list item of writing my own full book series because of how much you all have shown me what I am capable of doing in a manner of months.
This chapter isn't goodbye for Sweet & Sour Dipplins just yet, of course. There aren't too many bait-and-switches left either, but ohohoho, I'd be super impressed with anyone who would be able to predict where I'm going immediately after Chapter 21... :) <3
With love,
dipplinduo
#just remember#you voted to have it be a single update#LOL#my fics#dipplinshipping#kieran pokemon#kieran x juliana pokemon#juliana x kieran pokemon#kieran x juliana#juliana pokemon#juliana x kieran#memes#fun fact: still haven't written it either#why am I like this?#idk procrastination is part of the process apparently LMAO#its in my head though#tomorrowwww~
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Inspiration Saturday/Several Sentence Sunday
also got tagged by @silvercap so am shamelessly taking the opportunity to post another one :'D
Still grinning, Jake leaned back in his seat, arching an eyebrow at his friend. “So, what’s next for you then?”
That was the million dollar question. Piers would’ve loved to have the answer to it himself. “I don’t know,” he admitted with an awkward little grimace. “I never really planned much further than this.” He’d been so focused on healing, on his physical therapy, on learning the skills he’d lost together with his arm… there’d been no room for anything else, really. Now he needed to find something else to set his mind to.
Jake pursed his lips thoughtfully, tilting his head a little. “You still play bass?”
Surprised, Piers frowned at him. “Yeah. Why?”
Instead of answering the question, Jake asked another. “Do you know RPD?”
“Raccoon City police department?” Piers hazarded, slowly, not really following. At all.
from the nivannedy band au lol.
(feel free to say i tagged you if you want to share your writing!)
#me and my fics#i haven't written anything in#idk a week or so#it's so hard getting back to it ahsnjdkfg#but anyway#meme thingy
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Perspective flip for Slip Of the Tongue pls! (Any part)
I had to blow the dust off this one tbh, but this fic is actually so interesting to me now, because I was still new-ish to the fandom when I wrote it. It’s such an apt introduction. It’s only my first kink meme fill (!!), but all the mo-esque elements are in there. I showed up to the kink meme like, “this is what I’m about”, and then wrote like 20 more angsty fights lol.
"Fuck, Stu," John moans, and Paul feels everything inside himself go dead.
John stops moving, instantly. It’s so fucking conspicuous that Paul feels it like a pinch, building pressure behind his eyes. John said it. Paul knows John said it because Paul heard him say it, but John’s stopped moving too, so he knows he said it. He said it, and now he’s not saying anything else. He’s left it hanging over Paul like a noose.
“Get off,” Paul says. It’s a plea, really, though he hopes it doesn’t sound like a plea.
John’s still wrapped all around him. Paul can feel his nose poking into his neck. He can feel his own pulse bouncing off John’s skin, and it sounds like his own voice. It sounds like stupid, stupid, stupid, and Paul really can’t be here anymore. He can feel the panic building in his veins. He feels some sort of animal instinct take over; caught in a trap—nervy, and scared—and liable to bite at any approach. If he has to spend another second with John touching him he thinks he might bite John’s skin off.
He yanks John’s body away from him, rough and desperate, and flees to the bathroom, gathering his clothes as he goes.
He can’t stop moving—pacing in front of the bathtub, forwards and back, as he stumbles into his underwear, and tries to shoves his arms through his half inside-out sleeves, still feeling too fucking naked, like an idiot. Letting John see him naked. Letting John just touch him like that, moaning for him, moaning out his name.
His name.
And he still hasn’t gotten his arm through his bloody sleeve, fuck.
Paul punches his hand through the knot of fabric. His fury only makes him feel like a useless child, so he curls himself down on the floor to sit still, sinking his face in his hands as he huffs out his frustrations. Except—being still gives him a moment to think about it.
Discomfort rises up his spine, sparking all the latent humiliation of being 19 and dismissed. It’s all so fucking embarrassing. He’s toured further than he’d ever imagined going, and he’s written multiple number one songs, and Stuart’s dead.
They don’t even really talk about him, anymore. He doesn’t even think about him, anymore. Sometimes, when he does, he feels guilty for not thinking about him. For treating him so unforgiving, when hindsight proved him to have been a bit of an insecure cunt about the whole thing.
Except, he’s not, is he? Not if John’s been thinking about Stuart while Paul had a hand wrapped around his cock.
An honest mistake, Paul thinks bitterly. One bassist hand for another. And fury washes over him again, at that, because it’s not like Stuart even put in enough of an effort to have bassist hands, so Paul’s a poor fucking substitute, in that regard.
If that’s what he is.
Paul feels it, again—that pressure behind his eyes.
Is that what he is?
“Paul?” he hears John call softly, from the other side of the door.
The panic from earlier comes with him, coiling tight in Paul’s shoulders. John doesn’t say anything else, and Paul can’t guess at what he might do. He has an image in his head of John opening the door, smirking down at him, cruel and sharp. Laughing at Paul for believing in him for so long.
There’s a rational part of himself that knows John wouldn’t do that. But he used to think he was the only person John’d ever shown this part of himself to—and, evidently, he isn’t—so what the fuck does he know?
Unease bubbles up his throat, forcing him to swallow the thick lump of it down.
“Paul?” John says again, and this time it’s followed by the sound of the door swinging open.
Paul looks up. John stands there, looking skinny and flushed with nothing but his flagging hard-on, and his underwear. For a moment, Paul forgets. John’s thighs are beautiful, and his rumpled bedhead is charming, and Paul still likes seeing him like this as much as he did when he was 20, and stupid, and the only boy in the world John had ever dared to touch. The only boy that mattered that much to him.
Paul feels a seething contempt for himself—bitter in the back of his throat.
“What?” he snaps.
John blinks, as if he didn’t come in with a plan, which only makes Paul hate him more, because John wouldn’t need a plan if it was as simple as I didn’t mean it, but John hasn’t fucking said that yet.
“It wasn’t—” John starts. “I was only thinking about—”
Paul’s anger cools into something else—distant and savage.
“Oh, were you?”
John squirms, clearly annoyed with Paul’s reaction. Not obtuse or demure enough for whatever sorry excuse he had. Paul wonders if John always thought Paul was that easy, or if it’s just that Paul never thought to question John’s motives before. Well, that would make him that easy, wouldn’t it? An easy little fool, he was.
“I was thinking of Hamburg. It wasn’t like that,” John tries—patronising. Like he talks to Cyn, sometimes. It tastes acidic on Paul’s tongue.
“That boring, was I?” Paul says.
“Obviously not,” John protests, weakly, waving a hand to his prick, as if that’s supposed to be a compliment. As if Paul hasn’t seen him get off with girls he barely even liked, a hundred times before.
It’s so bloody tactless, it has Paul blurting out: “Would Stuart have taken care of that for you?”
John blinks at him, surprised. “What?”
Whatever defense mechanism was keeping Paul feeling dead inside falters, his anger starting to simmer up again.
“Did you do this with him?” Paul asks.
John just keeps fucking blinking at him, like he can’t comprehend anything Paul’s said. Caught red-handed in whatever lark he and Stuart set up for Paul.
Paul can see them in his head—in that dingy, little flat on Gambier Terrace, on that shared fucking mattress. The way they’d laugh together, sometimes, when they talked about art, and left Paul out of it, as if Paul couldn’t understand just because he wasn’t in art school, and he was only a kid.
If John tries to lie to him Paul thinks he might actually punch him.
John only shrugs.
“Was it better?” Paul goads him, something nasty forcing him to spit it out. Forcing him to make John admit it. Just fucking tell him it was all a joke.
John frowns. “What?”
“With him, John.”
John looks away. Retreating. “Christ, the lad's already dead. Isn’t the jealousy getting a bit old?”
Jealousy. Like that’s all it was—petty, teenage jealousy. Like John didn’t spend years making Paul think it was real. “Are you serious?”
“Are you?” John snaps back.
“Must’ve been good, no? If you're still thinking about it,” Paul shoots at him.
“I was thinking of you,” John all but shouts. And that’s really beyond the threshold of what Paul can take.
“Oh, fuck off!”
He storms out, feeling wired and claustrophobic, trapped in the oppressive little bathroom with John insulting him to his face, like Paul’s too thick to know better.
He’s aware as he stands there, fuming, that he’s still barely dressed, and tries to button himself up—tries to insert some goddamn dignity into the situation—but he can feel John getting all fired up next to him, and he doesn’t want to bloody do it anymore. There’s no point. The ruse is up. Paul gets it now.
“He said you didn’t, you know.”
Whatever words were hanging on the tip of John’s tongue, die there. His mouth snaps shut, and he stares at Paul, looking confused and startled. Like he wasn’t expecting it. It only fuels Paul’s contempt.
It was one of those days: John and Stuart in Gambier Terrace, excluding him.
Paul had been trying to coax John into playing a bit, and John was sick of Paul pestering him about it so he’d hissed something cruel and stormed off, leaving Paul alone with Stuart, stewing in his own humiliation. Made all the worse by the look Stuart had thrown him, after John left—like he felt sorry for him.
Stuart said: “Just give him some breathing room, yeah? You know what he’s like.”
It irritated Paul so much, he’d spat out, “What do you care? You get to wank each other off about art more, now. Isn’t that what you want?”
And Stuart turned even more fucking sympathetic, like he could see the thing Paul really wanted—that embarrassing, forbidden thing Paul barely even let himself look at—and he said, “You don’t have to worry about that, you know.”
“I’m not worried,” Paul protested, feeling seen and ashamed for it. “I’m not a bloody poof. You can blow him all you like. I just— I only want the group to—”
But he could feel his voice shaking, and his cheeks burning, fire-hot, and Stuart kept looking at him like he wanted to give Paul a pat on the head or something, and all Paul could think about was how badly he wanted to shove him into the wall and smash the look off his smug fucking face.
“It’s really not like that,” Stuart said, kindly.
“I don’t fucking care, mate,” Paul snapped, caring a lot and hating himself for it.
“I swear. We never, mate,” Stuart promised, annoyed with Paul, but clearly not letting it put him off this mortifying conversation.
And just as Paul was about to tell him again how much he didn’t fucking care what Stuard and John did together, Stuart said, “It’s not like with you two. We never needed each other like that.”
It had cut through the anger. Reached deep into something vulnerable and terrified inside Paul and soothed it, despite how much Paul didn’t want it to. Paul wanted to dismiss it—pretend like it didn’t matter as much as it did—but he couldn’t get the words out. And in the end, all he’d ended up saying was, “Yeah?”
Like a fucking imbecile.
“Looked me in the eye and said: ‘Never, mate. Didn't need each other like that,’” Paul continues, trying to figure out what the problem is with his fucking shirt, and realising he’s missed a button, because of course he did. Because this is how inadequate he is, clearly.
Paul blows out an angry sigh through his nose.
“Fucking Stuart.”
“It stopped before you, if you want to be so fucking precious about it,” John says—all attempts at placation gone, apparently.
“Right around when he found Astrid, was it?” Paul shoots back.
As if that’s supposed to make him feel better—being the second choice, after Stuart fell in love. A convenient little consolation prize. Paul wonders, acidly, if John would’ve ever cared for him at all had Stuart not gone and bloody died on him.
“What do you care? You had every bird in Hamburg, in the meantime,” John says.
“That’s different!”
“How?” John snaps, stepping closer towards Paul. “What—you can have me, but he can’t? I’m not a fucking monk outside of you.”
Paul can feels his eyes—sharp and intent—and he can’t do it. He can’t stand here and explain to John that while John saw him as the second-best available mouth to suck his cock, Paul had spent the entire time feeling. That Paul gave something up to John that he’d thought John had given back.
Paul swallows. “Fuck off, John. Honestly,” he spits, and shoves past him, back to the safety of the John-less bathroom.
#fic specific ask meme#a thing about me is I love writing an argument#and that is the root of every angsty fic I’ve ever written#they literally all started with a note in my phone with argument dialogue lol#anyway please enjoy tonight's installment of Paul Freaks Out in a Bathroom#taking a break on the perspective flips tomorrow cause you guys sent like 10 of them lol#thank you but you all have updated fics and i haven't had time to read them!!!#fic tag
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seven sentence sunday
tagged by @rewritetheending @clusterbuck and @thatbuddie, thank you friends!! here are more than seven sentences skjkjgkd:
He gives himself a stern talking-to in the parking lot before he gets out of his car, but all of that immediately goes flying out the window the second his eyes catch on Buck through the glass walls to their locker room.
He’s buttoning up his shirt, laughing at something Chimney said, and Eddie has a visceral memory of ripping his shirt off with so much enthusiasm the buttons went flying.
“What are we waiting for?” Hen asks from where she’s appeared by Eddie’s elbow, and Eddie nearly jumps out of his skin. “Woah, okay. What’s got you so jumpy?”
“Just didn’t hear you coming,” Eddie says, and hopes desperately that his voice and face seem normal enough to keep Hen from prying. She’s unfortunately very good at it, but Eddie wants to take this secret to the grave.
“Are you nervous about Buck?”
“Ner– why would I be– I’m not nervous,” Eddie stumbles over his words, and from the way Hen raises an eyebrow at him, he knows she doesn’t believe a word he says.
“I get it,” she says, and Eddie finally tears his eyes away from Buck in surprise. “It’s only been two weeks.”
Oh. So that’s what she’s talking about. The lightning. Right.
i tag @nymika-arts @eddiediazes @capseycartwright @hattalove and @littlespoonevan if you want to!
#p#tag meme#i haven't written much this weekend but i still want to see where this one goes#poker dream fic
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For the Soft Prompt: hope platonic pairings are ok because 7 for our favorite sisters Aloy and Beta sounds very fluffy
Platonic pairings are more than okay!!! Especially when the platonic pairing is the Sobeck sisters, who I love dearly. I'm not sure if this counts as soft, but hey, I did my best. Hope you enjoy!
Find the soft fic prompt meme here!
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7. late nights
"Bee," Aloy said, her voice cutting through the quiet like a blade, and Beta jumped, shutting down the holoshow she had open on her Focus.
She hadn't heard Aloy coming, though she supposed that wasn't much of a surprise. Her sister knew how to keep herself quiet, undetected, after all, though she still should've heard the sliding of her bedroom door.
Still, her heart raced in her chest when she spun around to find Aloy stood in the doorway of her bedroom, blinking at her blearily. Her hair was a mess, out of its usual braids and twists to resemble something more like a birds nest now, wild and untameable. The sight made her laugh slightly, and her sister's eyes narrowed further.
"Uh--hi," Beta greeted, somewhat sheepishly.
"What are you doing awake?" Aloy asked after a moment. A furrow appeared between her brows as she stared at Beta, and it looked so remarkably like concern that Beta had to look away for a moment. She still wasn't used to it--to being treated with kindness. To being treated like she was a person, and not a tool.
It was getting easier now, though. With Aloy, and everybody at the Base.
She took a moment to check the time, her Focus telling her it was 2:34AM. 2:34. She grimaced a little, glancing back at her sister. The time passed her by completely, slipping between her fingers like sand. It was easy, in a place of metal walls and artificial light, to lose track of it.
"Oh, sorry," she said quietly. "Did I--did I wake you?"
Really, the chances of that were slim. Aloy's door was always closed, and Beta was fairly sure she was being quiet.
There was still a pang of guilt in her stomach at the idea, though. Aloy had returned to the Base only a day earlier, exhausted and sporting fresh injuries that made Beta panic initially. She didn't want to be the reason Aloy didn't get the rest she so clearly needed.
"No." Aloy shook her head, walking further into the Control Centre they'd turned into more of a common room. She came to sit down beside Beta, who shifted to make room for her. "Just--couldn't sleep."
She understood that. After everything that happened with the Zeniths, after Aloy's fight with Tilda and the discovery of Nemesis...Beta still struggled to sleep, even now. Her mind was too full of thoughts, traces of panic lingering in her blood.
It didn't seem right, that those fears may weigh down on Aloy too. She was Aloy, after all. Always so on top of everything. Fearless. Beta's anxieties didn't fit her, didn't quite make sense.
She looked closer at her sister. At the weariness in her shoulders, the exhaustion in her face and the circles below her eyes.
Maybe she was wrong. Aloy was just as human as the rest of them, after all.
At the very least, she could help with that. She hesitated a moment before pulling up the show she was watching before Aloy interrupted. Second Time Around, naturally. Though she'd seen this a hundred times before, enough to memorise most of the lines, it was familiar enough to be of comfort.
"Do you...want to watch this with me?" she asked quietly. At Aloy's surprised glance, she gave a little half-shrug, anxiety suddenly curling in her stomach. "You don't have to! Obviously. Just...sometimes helps me to, to take my mind off things? It's fun. Maybe you'll be able to sleep afterwards."
Beta thought it'd be nice, too, to have Aloy watch it with her. They rarely ever spent time with one another, these days, with Aloy delving into various ruins on Sylens's direction, or rallying the tribes for the next fight.
She didn't mind. They were all doing their part. It would just be...be nice, to spend more time together.
Except Aloy hadn't seemed interested, the last time Beta mentioned it. And maybe she was foolish for bringing it up now. She looked away from her sister, grimacing slightly. "Of course, it's probably stupid. You'll want some time to yourself, after--"
After the Horus fight. After leaving Seyka in the Burning Shores. After running around the world trying to save everything.
Aloy placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, a soft and welcoming smile on her face. "Bee," she said, and Beta fell silent. "I'd love to. Is this...Second Time Around? You mentioned it once."
Surprised, Beta stared at her wide-eyed. "You remember that?"
"Yeah. And I'd like to see it with you."
Warmth bloomed in her chest, and Beta beamed at her.
In the next moment, she moved herself closer to Aloy. They were pressed against each other now, her sister so much warmer than her, and Beta brought up the show again, sharing it to Aloy's Focus. "Great!" she announced. "You'll love it."
Aloy smiled back. "I'm sure I will."
#horizon games#horizon fanfic#horizon zero dawn#horizon forbidden west#aloy horizon#beta horizon#my fic#I am very sleep deprived so i apologise if this isn't very good quality!!#i also haven't written anything for these two in a good long while#i may put this on ao3 at some point. if i can be bothered#soft fic prompt meme
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22 for Ronon/Jennifer in the kiss prompts
22- In A Rush Of Adrenaline
(my mind immediately went to first contact/the lost tribe- specifically them sabotaging the ship- so that's what i wrote)
She knew Ronon was right.
She knew that getting weapons and fighting the Wraith was the best chance of taking back the Daedalus. The problem was, Jennifer wasn't sure she had what it took. As bad as the Wraith were, she wasn't sure she had it in her to kill anything.
They didn't have time to argue about it. Ronon was running through the halls to the armoury and it was all Jennifer could do to follow after him.
"Ronon, wait a second!" She called after him, her heart pounding. She needed to buy them more time, buy Ronon more time. She could turn herself in to Todd, and buy him the time he needs to kill the Wraith, but first...
He stopped and turned back, the frustration evident on his face.
"Jennifer, we don't have time to argue-"
"I know, I know, just- in case this doesn't work," she said quickly, then reached up and pulled him towards her, kissing him hard and fast. She tried her hardest to pour everything she was feeling- excitement, fear, attraction, anxiety, adrenaline, anticipation- into the kiss, and after only a second his arms were wrapping around her, pulling her close, deepening the kiss.
When they pulled away, they stared at each other for a moment, smiling.
"What was that for?" Ronon asked, resting his chin against the top of Jennifer's head. She hugged him tightly.
"For good luck," she whispered, pulling away to smile up at him. He smiled back, and Jennifer shoved him back as hard as she could. He stumbled back a foot, staring at her in shock as she closed the bulkhead door between them.
Now to buy him some time.
#ooh this is fun!!!#thank!!#and such a good ship i can't believe i haven't written a ronon/jennifer fic yet#good prompt#ronon/jennifer#ronon dex#jennifer keller#sga the lost tribe#sga fic#ask meme#writing prompt#my writing
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Wild is the Music of Autumnal Winds Memes
#tntduo#sbi#quackbur#tntduo fanfic#sbi fanfic#Autumn Winds Fanfic#Memes#That's right#I made memes for a fanfic I haven't posted yet#And have only written part of the first chapter of#I even made it a spotify playlist that's how much I love this fic#This took forever and I refuse to look at the time
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Hi Allie, 6 and 17 please if you like!🥰
hi, dear!! i've already done 6 here, so i'll just do 17 this time.
17. Describe a fic that is still in the ‘ideas’ stage.
oh god, there are...so many. which one do i talk about?? the one about dragons? draco growing up with the tom riddle diary? tbd jane austen AU? the blackmail one? there are too many choices!!
okay, i'll talk about the one i'm going to work on after my next fest fic, which is fake-dating!! harry and draco are on-again off-again fwb; at the start of the fic they're off because harry is in a relationship, but harry botches a proposal and they break up. so harry and draco start fake-dating so harry can prove to his ex that he's capable of settling down and being serious about someone, and draco has been his most functional long-term "relationship" yet.
draco goes along with this because he also crashed out of a long-term relationship semi-recently and is sick of being pitiably single but is too hurt/scared to actually date for real again. he's also bored and miserable managing the malfoy estate instead of finishing grad school (he's a magical geologist in this and i am going to love making up this job lol. harry is a quidditch writer who lives kind of a chaotic, messy lifestyle, which is part of the issue his ex has).
obviously there is pining and misunderstandings and it takes a while for draco and harry to figure their shit out!! taking bets on how insane the word count is going to be now 🙃
let’s do some fanfic asks!
#asks#getawayfox#fic asks#ask meme#this is the fic that has a playlist already so is it really just in the ideas stage??#yes in my heart because i haven't written a word yet#excited though
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Writers First Line Game
Thank you for the tag @elveny <3
Tagging (if y’all want of course): @tiredassmage @anchanted-one @greyias @storyknitter annnnd any other of my writer pals who might want to partake!
Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven't written ten fics, share as many first-sentences as you have.
I haven’t been writing a whole lot recently so these are mostly unpublished and definitely span from this month back to like...Nov/Dec probably lol. But that’s part of the fun!
--
1. That Damn Untitled Moria Fic (Wulfwryn x Raenor, LOTRO)
Though Wulfwryn’s fingers ached from the force that she gripped her sword and shield with, Gorothúl’s foul magic froze her body in place.
2. Still Untitled Shepard Gets Hurt Fic (Ryn Shepard x Garrus, ME3)
Ryn was exhausted. Her shotgun felt like lead in her arms, her helmet a brutally heavy crown atop her head.
3. Five Meets Tyr Fic I Promised @tiredassmage Months Ago (SWTOR)
Forty-eight hours awake with only snatches of sleep caught in batches of minutes was not treating Five well.
4. Untitled Cyberpunk WIP (Cyberpunk 2077)
The door hissed closed behind V, the janky latch bouncing once, twice, thrice, before finally clicking and locking.
5. Emeldir x Risha Prompt Fill (Smuggler x Risha, SWTOR)
The Phoenix zipped into hyperspace as it cleared the planet's atmosphere, the hull rattling around them as it picked up speed.
6. Baraneth and Ruinel Prompt Fill (Dragon Age Origins)
Exhaustion weighed on Baraneth like a leaden blanket.
7. Shakarian Prompt Fill (Ryn Shepard x Garrus, ME1)
Humans were something of a mystery.
8. Another Emeldir x Risha Prompt Fill lol (Smuggler x Risha, SWTOR)
If Emeldir kept stuffing his foot in his mouth whenever he talked to Risha he was never going to get the taste of rubber out of it.
9. Unlikely Reunions (unpublished (?), Wren x @lumielles‘ Aramys, SWTOR)
Nothing in the Empire fell further from grace than the Dark Council.
10. Reunification (Ryn Shepard, ME2)
The bundle of rebuilt bones that had been given the name Ryn Shepard stared at herself in the mirror on the ship that was not her own.
#captainderyn memes#first line tag game#first lines are neither my favorite nor my strong suite but this was fun!#I have so many good fic WIPs kicking around sure would like to finish and publish them xD#and so many more ideas marinating in my head that I haven't even written down yet#I really REALLY need to finish Reunification that one hits hard#as does that Cyberpunk one tbh but it involves reworking Five as I reworked Era into V
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First Lines of Fic Game
Tagged by @etraytin
Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway
Tagging: @running-rabbit, @lulabo, @kyrafic, @formerlyir, @scullyseviltwin, @stillscape, @miabicicletta, @mhalachai, @blithers, and @gallifreyburning
1. le feu dans mon âme (The Musketeers AU): “You’re late,” Athos says, barely looking up from his position leaning against the bullpen gate. “And you’re sober!” Aramis retorts. “Quite a morning we’re all having.”
2. More Than a Hunch (Life With Derek): “Honey,” George calls from the kitchen. “Are we good parents?” Nora finishes closing the front door against the summer heat and wanders to the back of the house. “Well, we’re definitely parents.”
3. lit a fire while i waited for more (Buckynat/Marvel): It’s the kind of kiss where no one cares who made the first move—only that it got made. The problem is that it happens in the midst of a practice bout, when they’re both wearing the base layers of their respective tactical gear, none of which is meant for easy removal.
4. it was summer when i saw your face (Buckynat/Marvel): Natasha comes to, and the toxins must be out of her system because she feels perfectly fine, if cold in her hospital gown. She blinks and shakes her head, then takes account of her surroundings.
5. looked like a teenage runaway (Buckynat/Marvel): “No, I think Barnes is doing a group thing with some of the others,” Clint says. “Much as I’ve enjoyed your strictly platonic couple’s costumes the last few times Tony’s made us all dress up…”
6. those endless nights that we traveled (Buckynat/Marvel): Bucky rests his forehead against the shower tile, letting the hot water wash over sore muscles and trying not to groan with relief.
7. we were shotgun lovers (Buckynat/Marvel): Natasha is hanging upside-down from a thick pipe in an otherwise empty sea of cubicles when a familiar head comes into view.
8. some killer queen you are (Buckynat/Marvel AU): “Still can’t believe that worked,” Bucky commented, locking the front door to the furrier shop for the night and closing the shutters. “The alliance, sure, but also you bein’ open to playin’ so nice.” “You and I both, Mr. Barnes.” Behind him, Natasha is carefully secreting the several bottles of liquor that had earlier sealed the deal—Stark’s jury-rigged Sambuca, moonshine whiskey from Rogers, the Odinson’s aquavit, and her own bathtub vodka—under various floorboards.
9. how to get back there (Buckynat/Marvel AU): Natasha starts running in the breath after she wakes and sees the helicopter she’d fallen from fading into the horizon. She had landed on a flat roof, fortunately, and she bolts toward the fire escape at its edge, zigzagging to dodge the laser fire peppering the space around her. Something fast and hot ghosts along her left hip, but she pushes it out of mind, letting momentum carry her forward.
10. the red and the white and the blue'll come through! (Team Cap/Marvel): Everybody takes turns suiting up and keeping watch—Wanda changes in the van—and they’re off to Leipzig inside of ten minutes. Steve takes the wheel with Sam riding shotgun; Bucky very deliberately sits directly behind Steve, leaving Scott and Wanda to clamber into the backseat while Clint settles nonchalantly alongside Bucky. They ride in tense silence for a few minutes, Steve taking extra care to follow every traffic law while avoiding main thoroughfares with heavier surveillance, before Scott says, “So…you’re really Bucky Barnes? Like, the Kid Commando?”
#fic meme#writing meme#fic is a way of life#god but i haven't written fic in so long#i had a pretty steady clip going from about 2012 through later 2018#but then aside from that one musketeers number that i eked out during the initial covid lockdowns for red's birthday that year#it's been a complete dry spell ever since#it's not even a lack of time#just...inspiration. maybe even interest?#i like to think if i had a sufficiently good and fleshed-out idea that i'd write it down#but i really don't#and all the lovely fuckyeahbuckynatasha prompt-fests that used to get a LOT of fun stuff out of me have dwindled away#which is fine! canon has mostly killed the dream i dreamed!#(which is not fine but i mean i don't have more to write there anyway)
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Final Words Meme
Final Words Meme
@snowbellewells tagged me!
Rules: Post the final line of your 10 most recently published fics. (Or as many as you have published.) You can either omit multi-chapter WIPs or include the last line of the most recent chapter (or several chapters). Up to you!
1. All of Me (Loves all of you) (CSSS for @cosette141): Killian vowed that he would stand by her no matter what because he knew Emma was his happy ending, the one, as a former villain, he never dared to hope he could ever have.
2. A Chance to Fly (WIP for @cssns): “I think the queen may have cursed you, and,” he took a deliberate breath before delivering the next piece of information, “I think we just broke it with True Love’s Kiss.”
3. Full Circle: She was absolutely perfect and one of the best things to happen to Emma on a Tuesday.
4. Going Away Means Forgetting: Jones Family Backstory (for @neverlandnewyear): But what could be more important than avenging Milah’s death?
5. What are you doing New Year’s Eve?: Son of a bitch!
6. Let Your Heart Be Light (CSSS for @piinfeathers): “Merry Christmas, Killian.”
7. Ready to Run (WIP, I promise this will get finished at some point, for @captainswanmoviemarathon): Not that Killian Jones has any type of feelings for Emma Swan.
8. The Night we Met: He pulled her in tight in his half asleep state, making her feel safe as she cuddled into his chest, and Emma wondered how she ever could have hated him the way she thought she did.
9. Unmasking the Truth (for @cssns): “I promise, I’ll always find you.”
10. Going Away Means Forgetting (for @neverlandnewyear): He knew Morgan may not have completely forgiven him, but it was a start.
Tagging: @thisonesatellite @kmomof4 @hollyethecurious @wistfulcynic @the-darkdragonfly @totheendoftheworldortime @goforlaunchcee @teamhook @jrob64
#final works meme#last 10 fics#I really haven't written much in the past few years#where is my muse?
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actually, continuing my weird requests: WH13 characters of your choice + “pander” 🏺
Myka scrambles into the office, grabbing the Farnsworth to call Claudia. When she answers, it looks like she and Steve are hiding somewhere, their faces obscured in half-darkness.
“We neutralized the book but they still look all Stepfordy and I’m pretty sure they’ve got pitchforks now!”
“I know!” says Myka. “It’s bifurcated!”
Steve furrows his eyebrows. “How can a book be bifurcated?”
“There’s another book. It would have been in town long before that first edition of A Thousand and One Nights ever showed up.”
“Don’t tell me,” says Claudia, “it’s called A Thousand and Two Nights and it’s the blockbuster sequel to the first one.”
Myka tries to look stern, but it doesn’t work very well. “Not exactly, Claud. After Burton published his translation, it ran afoul of pretty much every decency law in England, so they pandered to Victorian tastemakers and published another version that cut everything that might have been deemed improper. It was attributed to Lady Burton. I think this may be a Zeus and Hera situation.”
Claudia’s eyes go wide. “They stored the library books under town hall after the flood in April,” she says. “I bet that’s why nothing happened while the book was at the mayor’s house.”
From somewhere beyond the Farnsworth’s view, there’s a sudden banging and the rattling of a doorknob. Claudia and Steve’s eyes go wide.
“Lady Burton’s junior novelization, got it, bye!” is all that Myka hears before the Farnsworth gets slammed shut and the call ends.
#yes this is NOT six sentences I don't want to hear any lip from anyone about it#I haven't written these characters in YEARS ok#zainab does ask meme things#birdhapley#my fic
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🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP 👀👀
🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.
[ask meme]
#let the poet bless this round#kingfisherkink#ty#ask meme#sasha answers#'sasha is this the same wip as the last one' yes 'sasha what on earth is this fic about' don't worry about it#(i swear it's like. good in my head. it's a good idea. i just haven't gotten to the like. meat of anything yet)#(and it's really hard to explain please just trust me...or don't idk)#anyway i don't actually have a lot of dialogue written for this yet on account of. having very little of it in general written yet#but i did like this bit i guess. so
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proctor: look, i'm sorry for what i said earlier
putnam: ...and for punching me in the face?
proctor: no. you definitely deserved that.
#arthur miller#the crucible#classic lit#classic literature#classic lit memes#wednesday incorrect quote :)#mod dio#hii guyssss [twirls hair] have i mentioned today that i think these two are worsties? if not: they're worsties <3#they despise each other and i think it's lovely !!!#also school is currently kicking my ASS rn. not because of grades. i'm just busy :(#it makes me feel weird for not posting as much.#like that fic for example. i'm still working on it. in fact i know how it's going to end. but i still haven't written anything.#but enough of my complaining. i hppe each and every one of you is having a lovely day <3#also no fyi i don't think proctor would ever apologize to putnam. for anythimg.
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First line meme
Tagged by @nocompromise-noregrets. Thank you! 💕
Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people.
1. Sam couldn’t sleep. (In the Silent Forest Listening)
2. “Now,” said Hilarion, voice even lazier than usual, “when we first met, did you ever think for a moment that we’d end up here like this?” (Strange Meetings)
3. When Thangorodrim was broken, that was the end. (Nunc Dimittis)
4. The short midwinter day was already well advanced when Caranthir and his train reached the angle of the river. (The Hopes and Fears of All the Years)
5. When Eönwë arrived at their usual meeting place in the eastern garden, he found Mairon already there. (Giver of Rings)
6. They made their escape across the marshes. (Thus, Thus Go I Gladly to the Shades)
7. After Gurthang, there was only darkness. (Winged to the Long Waiting)
8. “We must make haste!” cried Sir Lancelot, as he led his companions across the swamp towards the shelter of the distant forest. (A (Confirmed) Knight Bachelor)
9. “I never cease to wonder, though I have seen you forging weapons more times than I can reckon up, I cannot recall when I last saw you wield one.” (In the Precincts of Light)
10. There were still many leagues between them and Forres, and the changeful mirk that had dogged them all day had turned at last to wind and storm, so that the going was even slower. (Royalty of Nature)
I’ve lost track of who on my dash has all done this one lately, so apologies in advance if I’m tagging you in this one again: @di-daydreamer, @cuddlytogas, @bryndeavour, @irisseireth, @cycas, @kitthefox, @pudentilla, @thethermocline, @chiropteracupola, @southfarthing.
#meme#my fic#I haven't posted anything in ages#I've barely even written anything for weeks and it's getting to me#x___x
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made-up fic title: Mandarin Season
okay, this one is Star Trek: The Next Generation/Picard, Troi/Riker falling apart and coming back together after the death of their son. Lots of grief, pain, but mostly it's that sliver of hope that feels the most treacherous of all. The sweetness of citrus in the bitterness of winter. Something new out of something old, and love that survives and grows in the harshest conditions.
[ze made-up fic title meme]
#made-up fic title meme#tw: death#star trek: the next generation#deanna troi#william riker#a thing i haven't written
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