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longeyelashedtragedy · 4 years

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Writer ask meme

I was tagged by the flamazing @feedingmyinsomnia <333 and i will tag...if you want!... @perfectpiety @amethyst-fox-jv @ayerlind @sitkowski and anyone else who writes who sees this! but you don’t have to, just feel honored that i tagged you ;)

ao3 name: catmanu!

fandoms: currently writing in the football (as in soccer) rpf fandom, but always have other things on my mind as well.

number of fics: i’ve written SO many in my lifetime and most have never been published anywhere.

fic i spent the most time on: technically “exit right” because it took me like...a year and a half to write it? in terms of like...period of time spent actively writing it’s definitely “trophy boyfriend.”

fic i spent the least amount of time on: either “fly faster!” which i wrote in like, an hour or “jet ski još čeka” which i wrote over the course of a day.

shortest fic: my shortest standalone fic on ao3 is “the world drowned” at 370 words--my ancient shireen baratheon/rickon stark futurefic

most hits / most kudos / most comment threads / most bookmarks / highest total word count: ok im leaving out the drabble collections. omg without even looking i know this is all gonna be fuckin... “captivated” because i’m The arya/jaqen person on ao3 even now. let’s see. most hits: “captivated,” most kudos: “captivated,” most comment threads: “trophy boyfriend,” most bookmarks: “captivated,” highest total word count: “trophy boyfriend.” sigh

favorite fic i wrote: omg i think i made a post like this recently? most recently my favorite fics are “trophy boyfriend,” “5.VII.,” “ça c’est ma dope,” “what we do in the élysée,” “victory rain,” “the heat of it all,” “soy loca con mi tigre,” “chief of the armed forces.” in the past i love all my arya/jaqen stuff so much. i really do love most of what i’ve written that i posted, but these stand out to me. oh, and how could i forget-- “modernity towering in front of the sky.” still slaps tbqh

fic i want to rewrite/expand on: everything i’ve written is its own thing. i don’t usually write things that require a sequel or anything, so there isn’t really anything i can think of?

share a bit of a wip or story idea you’re working on:, ok, so, ahhhh. i post a lot from my current big ass wip “mare liberum,” but another thing i’m agonizing over is my šluka (šime & luka) longfic “we light up the world.” i thought it was going to be a fun little jaunt but it’s killing me because there’s not much of a precedent for it and i honestly have no idea how to write the pov. F in the chat for my pov. but sigh, i’ll stick a bit of it below; read at your own risk...

Tonight there really is a reason for him to be available and he’s had enough rakija on an empty enough stomach (what was the last thing he ate? How come he can’t remember?) to feel like putting his hand on Luka Modrić’s strong heroic leg and leaning into his face till their noses touched just like on Zadar beach and saying…well, he’s not sure what he’d say. But he has to pretend he’s sober because Luka is pretty sober and his whole family is here anyway.

Fuck it! They should have just done the grapes thing!

Šime pulls out his phone and makes Deki a Happy New Year! video instead. It feels really good to talk to Dejan, even if he can’t talk back.

He gets an idea in the middle of this. “Hey, look,” he says to his phone. “Look who’s here with me. Wait for it…wait for it…HEY…CAPTAIN!”

At least Luka looks happy to see him, and that makes him feel warm all over, warmer than you get from drinking alone. He turns away from Vanja. “What’s up?”

“Wanna say hi to Dejan with me? Say hi, Captain Luka.”

Luka smirks. “Are you two live? I don’t want to be in any of your lives.”

Šime clutches his heart. “Did you hear that, Deki? Our captain doesn’t like our lajjjjjjvs. Think we should—mutiny.”

Suddenly Luka’s bony chin lands on Šime’s shoulder. “Happy New Year!” he yells in Šime’s ear. Šime doesn’t really mind. “Are you back in Croatia? How many times have you bullied Davor this—oh, you’re not live.” He ruffles Šime’s curls. Dejan’s not going to be too thrilled about that, but considering he and Šime are both, well, married—and not to each other—Šime figures he can’t reasonably complain about someone else touching his ljubavi’s hair. And he’ll tell Deki that if he does. “You should have told me. I feel stupid.” He winks.

“Well...you said you didn’t want to be in any of our lajjjjjjvs,” Šime sings. “So, now you’re not. See?” He sticks his tongue out at his video for Deki. “C’mon, brate, I’ll show you who else is here.” He moves away from Luka quickly. Just in case.

He isn’t sure how much time has passed, but he’s definitely helped himself to another drink or two or more than two, and suddenly Luka has appeared next to him. His hair looks so soft and fluffy and beautiful and Šime just wants--really, really wants to take Luka in his arms and put his nose in his hair and just hold him for a long time. Rest his head on top of Luka’s head, maybe. Whisper we’re so lucky to have you. Please don’t ever retire, play until your bones turn to dust. Please don’t leave.

“Hey, do you want a ride home?” Luka asks. All of a sudden he puts his arm around Šime and Šime pinches his leg pretty hard to make sure this is real. Luka’s arms are—tricky. When you first see them, you don’t realize how strong they are. But when you feel them, you know. And when one of them is wrapping around your shoulders like a big, heavy snake, you really know. “I don’t know how you got here, but you shouldn’t get home that way.”

Šime snorts. “Thanks, Mom. Since when do you care…I’ve seen you way more drunk than I am right now.”

Luka is playing with the ends of his hair. Why is Luka playing with the ends of his hair? He pinches his leg again and it stings a little, but, is he dreaming that he’s pinching himself? Did someone put something in the rakija? He stares around the room wildly for a second, wondering who in there’s trying to get him in bed. “Yeah, but I had people to take care of me, then,” Luka says. “Even if people was just you and Domo holding my legs.”

“Mmmmm,” Šime agrees, remembering much more about those days than just that.

“But especially you. You always look out for me when I get like…” Luka gives him a wet kiss on the forehead and lets go of his shoulders. “So let us drive you back.”

“Uhhhh.” Šime stares at Luka till his eyes cross. Wow, he’s definitely more drunk than he thought he was. “Okay,” he says.

Sofia is asleep by the time they leave. Vanja carries her to the car. Their older two’s eyes are closing as they walk, so Luka holds their hands. Šime walks a few steps behind them, feeling kind of like the family dog. It’s not too late to call an Uber, right?. He really should just call an Uber. He will, actually. He pulls out his phone only to realize that making Dejan a video had used up all the battery.

“Go on, sit in the front. Come on.” Šime blinks. Vanja is smiling at him.

“No, that’s...You should sit next to Luka. I’m totally cool with sitting with the kids! They’re all so awesome.”

“They’re all so asleep,” Vanja says. Šime peeks into the car. In the back, Ivano and Ema have already passed out. “Take the front. You’re our guest.”

Šime flops into the passenger seat. He doesn’t want to be rude to Vanja, or make anything even more awkward. But it’s just that up here Luka’s cologne smells so strong and it would be so easy to reach over and just touch him while telling him he still thinks about being a Zadar kid with him just about every week. And he’s so bad at resisting temptation when he’s drunk. Mmmmm, my sinner, Dejan would say sometimes. My beautiful sinful sinner, God, my beautiful perfect—

“Hey, got a playlist?” he asks quickly. If he gets hard thinking about Deki this won’t get any less weird. “How about some Marice, mariceeeeee--”

“I wish,” Luka says. “But the kids…” Šime watches how the streetlights light up all the interesting angles of his face. “Once they’re asleep, you’ll do anything to make sure they stay asleep. You know how that goes.”

Šime swallows around the guilty lump that’s suddenly appeared in his throat and he nods. He keeps his eyes fixed on Luka’s face. Each time a car’s headlights flash across it, it changes. Sometimes he looks much younger than he is. And sometimes he looks…older than 34. Like an eternal captain, like he’ll somehow be Šime’s leader forever even after he retires.

“Luka, stop talking to him,” Vanja says from behind him. “He looks about as exhausted as the kids.”

“What? That’s like asking me to stop playing football,” Luka says. “I could never stop talking to Šime.” And keeping his eyes on the road, he takes one hand off the wheel to rest it on Šime’s leg. “We go way back. Zadar kids and all.”

Suddenly words are hard. “We, uhhh—yeah. It’s not like I knew you back in the day. We don’t go back that f--that--we…”

“What did I say?” Vanja said. “Your best right-back’s falling asleep.”

“No, ‘m…’m not, I…” And Luka is gently squeezing his knee, and--

“Maybe help him get inside,” Vanja is saying. Šime blinks. Somehow they’re back at his place and he has no idea how it happened.

“Hey, did I snore? Did I talk in my sleep or something?”

“Nope,” Vanja says. “I hate to say it, Šime, but you’re pretty boring when you sleep.”

“Oh?” He yawns. What is he, an old man all of a sudden? A few drinks and this is what happens to him? “Dejan says I’m cudd--”

“Okayyyy, out,” Luka says. He’s totally covering up a laugh. Shit! “That’s a good idea, Vanja. I’ll get him inside. Can’t lose a defender, right?”

Šime says goodnight to Vanja, who now definitely knows he and Deki are fucking, but she’s a pretty chill person, so it really could be worse. His legs wobble underneath him, and he bumps into the warm hood of the car.

#about me #fic saga #we light up the world

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