#fic wips

I realize my copy-paste game is off and I listed a title twice, BUT - you're in luck, it is correctly under Young Sherlock. Bank error in your favor.

Line of Ocean and Shore - is basically a character study between the two brothers, and how as opposite as they seem, they at times share exactly one (1) braincell. And, because I have no idea how to sort different thoughts and I would rather write one long fic than a bunch of short ones, this includes Sherlock's observations going backwards through their lives as he realizes Mycroft hadn't always been so reserved, and his reactions around the table during the dinner scene with their father weren't always there either (or were they and Sherlock just didn't notice dun dun dunnnnn), and also how moving forwards, Sherlock is consciously trying to behave better, and not go creating problems, and learn some level of responsibility because he thinks he's causing Mycroft undue stress and harm and meanwhile Mycroft is freaking out because are you dying Sherlock you must be where are the shenanigans you haven't been this quiet in your life and now I am concerned.

Random excerpt:

"You weren't always so serious, Mycroft," Sherlock said, trying not to smile. "If I recall, you used to find my…what did you call them? Shenanigans - that's the word! You used to find them entertaining."

"Did I?" Mycroft asked mildly. "I don't remember."

Sherlock wagged a finger at him. "You did. I have hundreds of letters attesting to that fact - though, to be fair, it wasn't always an accusation of shenanigans. It was hijinks, tomfoolery, mischief, nonsense, horseplay…you even encouraged them, did you not?"

"If you say so." The corner of Mycroft's mouth twitched, which meant that even now, Mycroft was trying not to smile.

Sherlock had no such reservations. "Yes, see, I knew it. You know, you should try to let yourself have a bit of fun. You used to smile more - when did that stop?"

To anyone else, it would have been invisible. A slight stiffening of the shoulders, Mycroft's gaze shifting down to his hands in his lap instead of meeting Sherlock's.

When did that stop?

"One of us had to grow up, brother dear," Mycroft pointed out lightly. "And we both know, it wasn't going to be you." He said it without hostility, an old insult that lost its venom years ago and became a running joke between brothers.

All the Love You Gave to Me - (Based 100% on my sister's level of care for me when I required supervision after a massive post-surgical infection): Sherlock post finale is 100% not healed from the gunshot wound, and people (his mother, his sister, James) are trying to retroactively get him to rest and heal for various somewhat selfish reasons (guilt, primarily) and the more they push him to stay in bed, take medicine, etc, Sherlock gets more and more irritated and starts neglecting his own health to the point it starts declining because this is Sherlock, and he has no self-preservation whatsoever but a stubborn streak a mile long, and when Mycroft finally comes back from fixing the Government ("honestly, you would not believe the dumb they get up to, Brother Dear") and sees Sherlock actively getting worse and immediately realizes the reason being that he hates hovering and just wants to be trusted to his own devices. Also a character study of poor Cordelia realizing that Mycroft had to be Sherlock's parent for most of his life and it's Mycroft that Sherlock will listen to, and Mycroft he wants when he feels like crap; Bea wondering if she would now always be an outside in her own family, looking in, and hating Silas anew for what she could've had if he'd left her with her family. Honestly, Mycroft might wind up sick at the end of this too for various other reasons and I get to flip the table on him, but we'll see. No snippets, because everything I have written thus far on this is mostly unhinged ranting on a Discord server with friends.

Rules ~ List out your drafts with the title of your wip as its saved on your device ★ summary / overview of the work ★ tag your fic writing friends to power their motivation battery! ★optional bonus: add a playlist/song/moodboard or some type of media/gif if it goes with your fic★

Send writers asks about what inspired them to write this fic, and/or you things writers want/hope people notice in their fics. Some of these have been sitting around for longer than I’d like to admit, but other ideas kept popping into my head. Also, a lot of my titles are just a character and a vague few words on the premise since titles are SOOOOOOO hard for me, it’s like the last thing I do before I finish/post the fic.

I have so many WIPs that I cannot list them all here, but you all are free to ask about those too. Of course they’d be more vague questions, but I love to answer questions about my fics.

Mi Hermosa Flor: An x Reader pollen one-shot for our favorite one legged gladiator, Kyros. This man is so sweet and Rebecca and Viola are trying desperately to get you and Kyros on a date. You agree to a casual outing to help him handle some maintenance on Greenbit for the Tontatta’s and things don’t go as planned.

Untitled Ennius/Thatch Mafia AU: Ennius is my OC that I love so much. This is a modern Mafia AU where Whitebeard is a crime family boss (but their crime is not what the other families think it is). Thatch owns a diner while Ennius is the Heart Seat holder for the Donquixote Family. Ennius is tasked to infiltrate the Edward Family and being to take them out from the inside. Ennius’ life has been filled with one tragedy after the next and doesn’t know what to do when he’s met with the kindness of Thatch and the fluttering of his heart when the sweet chef is near.

In the Heart of the Flames v.2: A re-write (and hopefully completion) of my current In the Heart of the Flames. I am converting the reader MC into an OC. When I wrote it, I gave the reader too many things that pretty much made her an OC instead, so I and re-working it and adding a few tweaks. Jinger meets the Kid Pirates on her island that has a long log pose reset and they end up saving her and her family from her crappy ex. She joins the crew and gets to experience life for the first time after not being able to live her own life for 20+years. She starts with a romance with Heat, but quickly becomes a relationship with all the commanders and some of the other crew. Mostly takes place before the Kid Pirates get to Sabaody.

Unnamed Isseki Fic: This will be like an anthology, same premise but different worlds and blorbos. You get isseki’d into a fandom world you are familiar with, however what you don’t know is that your life has been written as a slice of life manga/story in their world and they are as much a fan of you as you are of them.

Sanji-Post Canon AU: It’s 5-10 years after Luffy becomes King of the Pirates and the world is reshaped; both physically and through it’s leadership. The Strawhats and their allies were pardoned, they split the actual treasure from the final island and they are all allowed to live their lives (so long as they don’t become criminals again). Their names are not mentioned anywhere, only that a brave group of strong people saved the world from “demons”. Sanji meats Ivy as he is scoping out places to open a restaurant and falls for the plump bartender with an artistic streak.

“You seem kinda anxious,” says the sparkling iridescent duplicate of Flambae standing on the top of a smoking 7-Eleven three days later. The duplicate regards Prism with a pair of suspicious ember eyes, wind pulling strands of long black hair loose from a simulated hair tie. “You, like, good or whatever?”

The sparkles are part of the rendering process. They’ll go away when the copy hits full power, just before it hits full fidelity. This copy is starting to shed its nascent glitter. The problem with the full-fidelity copies is that, sometimes, they simulate their originals in little ways that Prism doesn’t fully understand. It only happens when it’s a subject she knows well, so it’s probably some psychological projection bullshit.

She can’t worry about that when there’s evil robot dinosaurs in the street.

“Shut up, Sparkle Bae. Your ass is photons. I’m not telling you shit.” She finishes funneling pure energized hard light into a gap along the copy’s left shoulder. She perfects her creation by sweeping imagery dust from its spandex-wrapped clavicle and ignoring the skeptical look she gets from it. “Ugh. Knock that shit off. Rob’s gonna clock us again.”

Sparkle Bae shrugs, ignites real flame along its hands, and steps to the roof edge.

It turns to look at her. It says, “Are you coming?” at the same moment the real Flambae yells, “ARE YOU FUCKING COMING?!” and goes rocketing past her in a ribbon of flame and smoke. The team pyro goes spiraling skyward with six screaming robot pterodactyls ripping after him like a horrifying comet breaking up in reverse atmo.

Prism gestures and a massive block of shimmering light snaps into existence at Chad’s flaming heels. All six dinos slam into it at terminal velocity and explode. Sparkle Bae is in the air by then and rips through the smoke, passing through the cloud of photons to catch up with the original Flambae some five hundred feet in the air.

Robert has said it before: Short of Coupe and Phenomaman, she and Flambae are the most combat-effective duo on the Z-Team roster.

CUSSWORDS 2!!!! Which has yet to have any real substance beyond the notes but lordy… Cusswords 1 was so much fun to do I just hope I can match the level its on ToT (also THANK YOU PFBFBGBR AWH)

Ok the ACK—! (?) one is so random but its short so I’ll just. Give a snippet I feel generous :3c

“Ack–! Hey! Ow, ow, ow–” Prowl hissed, his entire frame following the direction of the tug automatically in a vain attempt to lessen the discomfort. And it was only discomfort– the pain aspect was merely psychological.

Jazz let go of the wing quickly, yanking his servo away as if it’d been bitten. A half-panicked look graced his faceplates.

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, mech! Didn’t realize those things were that delicate.”

Jazz made a show of checking over the edge he’d so hastily grabbed, and Prowl was just as quick to tilt it away. He also made sure to tout how unimpressed he was by the initial offense and the following apology.

Literally no idea why I wrote this and if there ever was a plot beyond it I don’t remember it. I think I just wanted Prowl to go “Ack—!” tbh…

Rozanov steps dangerously closer to him, bringing big hands to stroke the lengths of Shane's arms, swiftly up before trailing them almost painfully slowly down again, the callouses on his fingertips snagging the silky material of Shane's track top; one snag for each of Shane's sins. Those big hands then circle Shane's wrists and Shane thinks not of shackles but of cock rings and wow, he is so fucking fucked. He feels Rozanov's fierce heat through his clothes and at once wants to sob at the fact they aren't tucked safely away in either of their hotel rooms, where neither of them would be wearing fucking anything by now.

Shit, this is such a bad idea.

“I am not usually into Bible, but if you want to call me Son of God is okay, I guess. I am very special,” Rozanov deadpans. His face paints a dour picture with zero hint of smirk, and Shane wants him.

Rozanov's deft fingers then leave Shane's wrists bereft, only to give Shane whiplash as he starts to trace along the waistband of Shane's sweats, dragging Shane's gaze up to that pretty face that's pretty like an engraved knife handle is pretty, when a long tongue licks at what Shane knows to be delicious lips, unhurried and with obvious purpose—and Shane needs that mouth enveloping his already thickening cock, stat.

Instead of ripping off all of Rozanov's clothes and shoving him into a nearby bush like both their bodies want him to, Shane says, “Yeah, you're special alright. A particularly special kind of asshole,” trying not to smile and failing miserably.

“Well, you would know,” Rozanov gifts him, raising a single brow right along with the stakes. Then it's as if he can read Shane's mind when he says, “So, you bring us out here to get naked and fuck in bushes like Oasis song, huh?” 

Shane's brain stammers over that. Then his words do, too. “I—what? No! I mean, uh, yeah, maybe, but I don't just—wait, did Oasis really write a song about that?” He thinks about this for a second before asking, “And you like Oasis, Rozanov?” There's a slightly amused tone to the question. Whenever he's wondered about the kind of music Rozanov might be into, he's only been able to imagine shit like techno, maybe hard trance.

“Clearly more than you, philistine,” Rozanov replies snidely as he slips those gorgeously warm hands under both of the tops Shane is wearing. He begins smoothing over the planes of Shane's torso like he wants to climb inside, clever fingers climbing each of Shane's ribs then eager palms trailing down his flanks. Up and down, up and down. Shane's skin sings at the contact, his heart thumping out an erratic beat to the tune, and he has to gulp down the near-constant stream of needy saliva his glands are now wildly producing at the thought of what might come next.

Both of us, hopefully.

He allows his eyes to close as he imagines exactly what he wants, for just half a filthy, glorious second. 

Then he's asking, “Man, how are you always so warm?” with genuine wonder, trying to dampen the feeling of just how much he likes that.

How much he likes Ilya Rozanov.

Then he jokes, “It's not exactly Florida out here,” just in case that was a weird thing to say. 

Rozanov's patented Are You Stupid, Hollander? face makes the second appearance of the evening. Not that Shane takes mental notes of that sort of shit or anything. 

“Silly Canuck,”Rozanov spits. “First, I am very hot. Second, I am Russian. Springtime here for me pretty much is Florida.”

And why does Shane want this arrogant Mean Girl so bad he'd allow himself to be called all the derogatory names under the sun if it meant he gets to have this?

Always, he thinks, and then immediately disgards such a ridiculous notion.

What the hell is wrong with him tonight?

.

Hello, hello! And yes, I agree! It really does <3

This is my teashop jazzprowl yuri! Wanted Prowl and her siblings working in a tea shop in either Polyhex or Praxus and Jazz is an artist who snuck out to order herself a drink to help her recover from a rough few nights of gigs! Of course she'll never miss grabbing her order from the cute (and intimidating) bot across the counter! I need more but am a bit stumped on where to go!!!!!! AAAAA

Snippet for you:

oh kwa, for my very special mutual i shall feed you both summaries simply because i am so excited about both of these fics!! once potr starts getting to the point of almost finished, these series will be my next projects!! both will be on the longer side, prob around 80-100k words!!

houston, it’s seriously not a problem:

after getting your dream job as a Science Officer on the next launch to the International Space Station, your longterm partner ends things with you—apparently, they just can’t handle the distance. so you set your sights on the stars, and try to escape your problems as best you can!