#fic synopsis

"You have a lucid dream of one of your fics. Which one do you choose and why?"

Of one of my already written fics, I would choose to dream about my Sapsorrow story because I spent so long writing in that world that I would love to linger just a little longer. It was an absolute delight to write and I loved every minute of it.

However.

I actually did have a lucid dream about a fic I had never written. Here is the synopsis:

Gambling and Glass Petals

Synopsis: the secretary for Sir Crocodile bites off a little more than she could chew after meeting the infamous king and migraine to her employer, Donquixote Doflamingo. Despite her best efforts to move his attention away, she is wooed by the demonstration of affection via pink peonies enough to return them via a letter that never reaches him. Instead, both Doflamingo and Crocodile arrive on her doorstep to find her apartment ransacked for all its worth. They both have to work together to find her, both finding their hearts beat only for her.

When I tell you this fic was the most insane one I've ever not written and experienced, I am being so honest. I would love the opportunity to write this one day! Crocodile x f!reader x Doflamingo (slow burn with croc, hot flash with Doflamingo), mystery, high stakes, romance, angst, I am feral for this fic.

Thanks for bringing me into the challenge @earlgrey-lateatnight! 💜

Now the thing is that I don't have a draft right now, as I did just finish "I thought it would all be fine". But I have been bouncing ideas with @chinitade over the weekend on a new fic. So I will simply post my last synopsis paragraph.

If you wondering what the heck Gotland has to do with this - I was there to visit one year ago. And it got me thinking that Wilmon could live a peaceful life at the country side there, and Simon would have a good opportunity to work with music.

Gotland is Sweden's biggest island, located in south Baltic see, known for is peaceful pace and rich culture. Can you imagine our boys living there?

Parenthood Killed the Rodeo Star - Tessa and Rhett both set out from Wabang at 18 to become famous rodeo stars. Tessa competing in barrel racing for millions and Rhett competing in bull riding. Over the years, they find success and a piece of home within one another. Always seeming to find one another when they were in the same cities - and always seeming to wind up in the same bed. But eventually, their little friends-with-benefits situation gives them both more than they bargained for. Forcing them both to rethink their careers, their entire lives, and what they might mean to one another.

I'm finally ready to announce my new long-form original fic! It's been in the works for such a long time, and I can't wait to share it.

Asunder centers around an original character, Sierra, and Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley. She's a chemical engineering PhD recruited by ARPA-E to work on a top secret project, and he's part of the team assigned to get her and the other scientists to the site in one piece. Simple enough, right? It would be, except our two protagonists have history they'll have to confront now that they're confined to closer quarters than either are comfortable with.

Add in some familiar 141 faces, some angst, some laughs, some danger, and lots of spice, and it's gonna be a good time.

Expected publication: early March 2023

Stability, was all Rey have ever wanted after the chaotic childhood she had. A stable job, a stable relationship with Finn, a stable life. She is happy with what she has, after all this difficult years.

Everything changes when her boss, Leia, decides to retire to spend more time with her husband, and her only son Benjamin Solo takes over the company.

She quickly discovers that appearances are really deceiving, he is far from the monster everyone says that he is. And that life has much more to offer. A bond quickly develops between them, and without her realizing it, she falls in love with him.

Out of loyalty to Finn, she refuses to give into her feelings, which she thinks are shared.

[this is part of a series of fic synopses i would write based on the fic titles i’m sent, here is my tag for all of them :)]

okay, so, obviously, a magic au. but we’re gonna mix it up: this time, it’s louis who is the secret witch who has to hide his magic (and his giant crush) from harry. 

so louis obviously isn’t going to be a typical witch. he’s not big on the kitschy mason jars and cutesy labels for things; he keeps his herbs for his potions in tupperware containers right next to his weed. he brews his potions in an old teapot he’s repurposed into a cauldron, and he stores his mixtures in old whiskey bottles. he draws sigils on his shoes and his denim jackets with sharpie, tattoos protection spells on his forearms amidst his other doodled ink. 

so he meets harry when he moves in next door, and he immediately knows this isn’t going to end well. witches fall hard, and they fall fast, and from the first moment harry dimples at louis he knows he’s a goner. 

but, surely if harry knew what he was, he’d think louis was crazy and run away screaming, right? so he doesn’t tell him, and just throws up some hasty glamours when harry comes over to visit, trying to cover up the sigils burned into the walls or the ancient spellbooks on his desk. one time, harry notices his stacks of containers full of rosemary and cinnamon and sage, and louis has to scramble for a reason to have all that, finally settling on, “i’m a bit of a chef in my spare time.” 

“really?” harry smiles, eyes twinkling. “you should cook me dinner sometime.” 

that would be a terrible idea. louis can’t cook anything more complicated than cereal. so he opens his mouth to say no, and - 

“sure,” he agrees. 

“it’s a date!” harry beams. 

niall laughs himself silly when he hears louis’ predicament, but he agrees to help him put together a relatively easy meal. “you’re going to cover all this up before he gets here, right?” he calls from the living room, gesturing at the skulls on the bookshelves and the half-melted candles on every surface, as louis stirs his pot of pasta. 

“yeah, yeah,” louis says. “now come help me with the sauce.” 

it’s a bit of a disaster but they finally put together a decent-enough meal just in time, and then when harry knocks on the door niall claps louis on the shoulder and twists on the spot, disappearing into thin air. louis answers the door and finds harry there, holding out a bouquet of flowers – roses, carnations, and baby’s breath, those’d make an interesting potion – and blushing prettily. 

he and louis grin at their plates through the whole dinner, catching each other’s eyes and brushing their feet together under the table. louis’ magic is twitchy with excitement, making the lamp in the corner flicker when harry brushes his hair off his face, making a book fall off the shelf when harry laughs at his joke. 

“can i…?” harry asks as they take their bottle of after-dinner wine to the windowsill, inching closer and closer under the stars as the night goes on. his lips are so close to louis’, and louis’ heart is beating so fast. he should say no. 

“okay,” he whispers. 

when their lips press together, louis’ magic goes haywire. all the lights in the surrounding city block flash on and off, but they don’t notice. books and candles topple off the shelves behind them, but they don’t notice that either. a lightning bolt strikes the tree outside louis’ window, sending the whole thing up in flames. 

that they notice. 

“shit!” louis gasps, jumping to his feet. his mind is blank with panic so he runs to the desk, grabbing his spellbook. harry’s scrambling for his phone, probably to call emergency services, but louis stutters, “no, no, don’t! i- i can-” he slams the heavy tome down, flicking through the pages marked with neon sticky notes until he finds the right spell. “et disperdam te, ignis, aqua!” he cries. 

a cloud forms suddenly right over the still-burning tree, and there’s a clap of thunder before buckets of rain dump down onto the flames, quenching them. louis takes a deep breath of relief, but then remembers why that happened in the first place. 

“um,” harry says. 

“right,” louis says weakly. “that. that was. an illusion! yeah, i do- i do illusions, magic tricks-” 

“louis,” harry interrupts. 

“no, right, that’s stupid. um. it was a prank! haha, got you, you should see your face-” 

“louis.” 

“fine, fine,” louis sighs. he holds up his palms, which are glowing brightly. “i’m a witch.” 

“oh,” harry says. then, “okay.” 

“okay?” louis asks incredulously. 

“well, i figured,” harry shrugged. “what with all the skulls-” 

louis flushes. “i… usually hide those when i have company.” 

“-and the notebook you lent me last week that was full of latin-” 

“oh, um. yeah, i’ve been looking for that, actually.” 

“-and, well. that,” harry says, pointing upwards. louis looks up and is confronted with the sight of the giant pentagram he’d painted on the ceiling when he’d first moved in, and that he’d completely forgotten about until this very moment. 

the absurdity of the situation hits him and he doubles over, hysterical laughter hitting him hard. harry joins him a moment later, loud, squawky laugh like a balm to louis’ ears. 

“right. well. let’s try again,” louis says. “hi, i’m louis, and i’m a witch. i have a familiar named clifford, and i learned every spell for how to set things on fire but never learned one for how to put them out.” 

he holds out his hand, and harry takes it. louis’ magic reacts again, his happiness bubbling over and making the pages of the spellbooks rustle like a wind has swept through, a few of his candles sputtering to life. harry grins delightedly. 

“i’m harry,” he says. his palm is very warm, and louis is very happy. “and i think you should show me what you can do.” 

a month later, harry has cancelled his lease and completely moved in with louis. his cat, marlene, immensely enjoys being a menace to clifford, who loves her back fiercely even if she does bite him while he’s sleeping. harry’s diptique candles join louis’ magic ones on every surface, and he’s organized louis’ herbs so that he can find one he wants immediately instead of having to dig through tupperware boxes for twenty minutes every time. 

louis is at the stove, stirring a new potion in his teapot-turned-cauldron with his wooden spoon when harry gets home from work. louis hears him greet the animals playing in the bedroom, then turns to see him stepping gingerly over the line of protective salt in the doorway to the kitchen. he wraps his arms around louis’ waist and nuzzles against louis’ cheek. 

“hello, love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss under louis’ ear. 

and, even after a month of kisses and whispers and i love yous, louis’ magic still reacts, making the potion boil and a few of the bottles in the fridge rattle together. 

okay i’m gonna try and get back into doing these, so if you’re new (hello!), these are synopses of fics that i would write based on the titles people sent to me. and with this one, literally the only thing i can think of is felix felicis, so this could only really be a harry potter au. 

so. harry’s a sixth year ravenclaw hell bent on creating potions to cure – not just ease – muggle diseases and cancers. he’s muggleborn, and the moment he learned about magic and found out that he had that power in him, he wondered why everyone didn’t just, y’know, use it to help others. he gets the whole statute of secrecy thing (because he read the whole thing as an eleven-year-old), but he doesn’t understand how anyone could see the suffering of others (magic or muggle or anything in between) and be okay with it. 

he’s been locked out of the common room for arguing with the door knocker about her logic again (she said that the answer to “what flies without wings?” was time which, yeah, harry gets that, but also he learned a spell in his very first charms class ever that proves that clever bit of wordplay wrong so, because wingardium leviosa is a thing that exists, everything has the potential to fly without wings and if she can’t accept that then fine) and so he’s down in the library, compiling texts from the restricted section about early wizard-muggle relations before the statute of secrecy was adopted. he opens the first one, sees a graphic illustration of a witch being burned at the stake, flips to another page and sees a muggle being burned at the stake instead, and closes it, realizing why the books were there in the restricted section in the first place. 

for a while, he just sits there, his head against the pile of deeply disturbing books, considering going back up to the tower and apologizing to the door knocker. it’s not her fault he was in a bad mood, he’s just stalled on the progress of his potion to cure heart disease and can’t move forward until he figures out how his latest attempt reacts to niffler hair, which just went on the ministry’s restricted materials list and is now impossible to get ahold of. 

suddenly, someone takes a seat across from him.