#writerask

Thanks for asking. These are actually really good ones :) I appreciate you taking the time to ask. Let’s see:

20. Post a snippet of a WIP you’re working on. Here’s a snippet of a WIP that has been sitting in my folder for a while. It’s part of the next installment in a story that I’ve had going on at AO3 here called Gone Forever.       

“Dad it’s not in here! I’m pretty sure I left it in the car when Aunt Raven brought me back,” Nathan explained throwing his hands up in the air, “She has to have it because it is not in there.”         

“It is,” Scott replied smoothly as he walked over to the sink to deposit the knife he’d been working with, “I’ll show you.”         

“It’s not there,” Nathan argued folding his arms in front of his chest, “I’m telling you that…”        

“When I find it, you’re going to owe me,” Scott countered fighting to suppress a smirk.

 “What?” Nathan questioned when it was clear he’d taken advantage of the moment and read Scott’s thoughts without his permission, “No. Nuh-uh, I’m not going to eat my peas the next time you make them if you find it. Dad I think they are disgusting. I’m not going to…”       

 “Did I say anything about peas?” Scott arched a disapproving brow.         

“You didn’t have to. I can just feel you thinking about it,” Nathan spat back placing his hands on his hips, “No, I’m not going to do it dad.”         

“What did I say about reading people’s thoughts?” Logan questioned wondering if the older version of Nathan still carried the same powers with him.        

“Tell him not to keep having such yucky ones,” Nathan pouted making his way over to the kitchen island.

30. Favorite line you’ve ever written.Hmm…this one was tough. I was just talking about this with my sister considering that there are so many I’ve enjoyed writing. I can pick a favorite story I’ve done, but taking it down to a single line is a challenge. There are a couple that stand out especially in this original piece I’m doing, but this one I like because it sums up the relationship between the characters.

“You were never part of the plan, but truth be told I’m glad that plans changed.“

31. Hardest character to write.

In the X-Men fandom probably Kurt. I don’t think I’ve ever really included him much in my pieces other than a brief mention because he has such a distinct voice in the comics and I don’t feel like I have been able to really grasp him well enough to give him a strong voice.

I’m going to go with two classics and you choose.

Beautiful Creatures, one of your first forays so an oldie but a goodie.

And

Something Stupid, my constant feel good re-read material.

Whatcha got for me? 🤨

LILLIAN MY DOVE my apologies for not getting to these til today - the Lights Household remains hectic but here we are. Because I love you so very much I’ll give you a secret for both:

(1) Beautiful Creatures, the fic that almost wasn’t - I felt HORRIBLE for writing it at the time and nearly didn’t write it because I’d only written one fic in this fandom, and it was a WIP and I was like ‘I should finish that other fic FIRST’ but I absolutely could not escape the picture in my head of Ghost and Jon and Dragonstone and Dany being like omg I gotta pet them BOTH. My first guilt fic (they’re all guilt fics now because I’m terrible about starting new fics before I finish old ones as you well know).

(2) Something Stupid - this fic was almost FAR more ‘The Office’ themed than it ended up being, because the premise from the very start was def Jonerys Jim and Pam. But I couldn’t bring myself to give Dany a current fiancé and knew I wanted the drama solely to be that tentative dynamic change that I love the most about friends to lovers, that nervous exciting build before they shift to something new, so that became the focus.

Also, I bought Mr. Lights the ‘Horny’ sweater mentioned on their Ugly Christmas Sweater spree - I couldn’t resist. If you want a deliciously terrible sweater of your own I highly recommend tipsyelves.com!

EXTRA SOFT, just for you, bitch!

2. “Come take a shower with me~”

Jon and Dany, set in the universe of Something Stupid

“Is your brother okay?”

They were standing at the kitchen island, together, watching as Dany’s older brother Rhaegar walked the length and breadth of the living room, proclaiming shortly after entering that he needed to ‘check the aura of the space’ before he would sit and explain what, exactly, he was doing there.

The last she’d heard from her mother, Rhaegar had moved Elia and the kids to some commune in Dorne, where clothing was optional and they grew their own marijuana strains, and judging by Rhaegar’s somewhat haphazard appearance, got high off their own supply.

See, I see what you’re doing here.  Because you clearly knew my immediate thinking was “this sounds vaguely dirty, I could probably make it pretty dirty, is this about dicks?”  

But fluffy, you say?  Okay, my favorite hype girl, you got it!

7.  “You’re so sensitive, baby.”

Jon and Dany set in the universe of Reunited

Dany tried desperately to keep her face level, facing straight ahead, ignoring the way Jon was shifting beside her on the couch, his head in her lap as they watched the movie he’d chosen.  Dinner sat long-finished on the table, pizza crusts and empty plates and napkins strewn across the glass top.

“Dany, are you crying?”

She was NOT, under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, going to let him see her face right now.

But really, this was his fault.  Who watched a movie like this and didn’t cry?

“No,” she said, in a watery voice.  “I just have dust in my eyes.  When’s the last time you cleaned this place?”

That was crap and he had to know it, because God, they’d each only been in these new corporate apartments for like, three months now, and his apartment was very neat and tidy, and she suspected that he’d probably hastily cleaned before she came over tonight.

They were ‘officially’ dating now, after all, had filed their form with HR and spent several nights together over the past few weeks and honestly it was the best thing ever, being with him.  There had been a tiny, small part of her that had worried that maybe her silly childhood crush on him would prove unfounded, and the more she got to know him she would find she actually couldn’t stand him.

Despite her now drying tears, she smiled, because nothing could be further from the truth.  He was awesome, in every way she could think to measure, and she finally tipped her chin down, finding him staring up at her, his face titled towards hers instead of at the screen.

“Yep, you’re crying,” he said, and tried to hide his smile as he reached up and touched the tips of his fingers to the telltale wetness on her cheeks.  “What a softie.”

She screwed up her face.  “Shut it, Jon.”  On the screen, the boy was burying his dog, who’d died from a broken heart at the death of his other dog, who had, in turn, died trying to protect the boy, and it was just TOO MUCH.  This wasn’t a movie it was a torture-fest.

Jon sat up, chuckling, and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her head down to rest on his shoulder as another tear snuck out.  She felt him kiss the top of her hair, felt his chest shaking under her, knew he was laughing.  “You’re so sensitive, baby.”

She pinched lightly at his side, in the narrow gap of space between their bodies, and tried her best to glare at him.  “This is your fault.  ‘Where the Red Fern Grows’, Jon?”  An idea struck her, and she reached for the remote, clicking back to the menu options on the Netlfix screen and smiling evilly as she spied the perfect avenue for revenge.

“Here,” she said innocently.  “Let’s watch ‘Coco’ again, instead.”

Jon’s eyes widened with alarm, and he shook his head.  “No, no, let’s not watch ‘Coco’.”

She pumped a fist in the air and crowed with delight.  “I KNEW IT!  I knew I saw you crying the other night when we watched it!”  She crawled into his lap, remote held above her head as he tried to snag it.  “CONFESS!”

He struggled for a few minutes but she saw the resignation wash over his face.  “Dany, it’s impossible to watch that movie without crying.  You cried!”  His voice was hot with accusation.

“Yes, I did,” she said, and tapped a finger against the tip of his nose.  “You were the one who pretended you weren’t and disappeared into the kitchen for like twenty minutes.”

“Dany,” Jon swallowed.  “Are you kidding me?”  His voice lowered, and eyes darted back and forth.  “He was singing his grandmother that song that her father sang.”  He slammed his lids shut, and she saw his adam’s apple bob again.  “Fuck, I can’t even think about it.”

She snickered and dropped a kiss to the corner of his mouth.  “Now who’s sensitive?”

Jon sighed and gave up the fight for the remote, dropping his hands ot his hips and pulling her closer to his chest, their hips pressed sweetly together.  “Fine, yes, I was being sensitive in a very manly and masculine way.”

Dany bit her bottom lip, grinning madly.  “Yes, we agree on that.”

His eyes darkened as they dropped to her lips, the movie tug-of-war forgotten.  “I know something else we can do, instead.”

She moaned and leaned in for a kiss, whispering her assent against his lips before they claimed hers.  “I like the way you think.”

AWW YEAH Back on our favorite set of assholes, let’s fucking GOOOOO!

1.  “Squeeze three times for I love you.”

Jon and Dany in the universe of A Thin Line

Dany is ready for the end to come.

Because she’s absolutely certain that there’s nothing worse than her current situation: sitting in an normally-unused conference room with the rest of the sales staff, including the Prince of Darkness, one Jon Snow.

“Who chose this bloody movie?”  Her harsh whisper goes unanswered, but by her side, she can hear Jon shifting in his chair.

On the screen affixed to the wall, some absolutely preposterous movie plays, the alleged heroine simpering at the male lead, their hands clasped tight between them, and if one of them is going to die she wishes they would fucking hurry up already.

“Squeeze three times for I love you,” the woman says, her eyes wide and stricken, and inwardly she cheers as the man looks seconds away from death.

She makes a loud noise, as though she’s vomiting, met by a chorus of loud shushes from her co-workers.

Ugh.  What a bunch of useless soft touches they are.  That’s why they’ll never outsell her, why she will always tower above them, even though most are a head taller than her.

A hand drops to her thigh, where her stocking-clad leg meets the hem of her skirt.  He dares too much, sometimes, but she can privately admit that his audacity is one of the things that keeps her coming back.

This is a new development, though, and the room is dark enough that she will let this play out, see how far he’s willing to go surrounded by these sorry excuses for salesmen.

While they have admitted that it’s not JUST hatred that fuels them, they have not yet done anything physical in town.  It’s been road-only, ‘til now, but apparently Jon is ready to change that.

“It’s absolutely disgusting, isn’t it?”  His soft murmur sounds surprisingly close to her ear, and he’s leaning casually on his hand, elbow propped atop the table, his other preoccupied as his index finger slips under her skirt.

“Ludicrous,” she spits back, glaring at Theon when he whips his head around to glare at her.  She raises her middle finger at him, waving it tauntingly until he turns around.  “Oh my god, he’s crying.”

Jon says nothing, his eyes dropping to the sliver of her lap that he can see, the rest covered by the heavy wood of the lacquered table.  “Pathetic,” he whispers, his breath humid on the shell of her ear, then she hears his quick intake of breath, as his fingers slide higher, meeting bare skin and the strap of a garter.  She grins to herself, and uncrosses her legs, allowing him access if he decides to push things further.

She does wonder, though, if he will.  He is a pompous, self-absorbed asshole, that’s certain, but perhaps he’s not exactly an exhibitionist.

She feels the scape of his teeth against her earlobe.  “What’s this, hmm?”

Dany hears several muted sobs from the surrounding people, but she can’t hear what’s happening on screen anymore, far too distracted by what she’s going to goad him into doing to her to pay attention to this garbage movie for one more second.

“I think you know,” she whispers back, and turns her head, their lips only centimeters apart.  “I dare you to get me off right here, right now.”

“And what’s in it for me?”  He quirks a brow at her, scowling slightly, giving a quick check around before his eyes lock with hers again.

She turns his head with her fingers, her lips just glancing against his ear.  “I’ll suck your cock in your office later, while you’re sitting in your desk chair.”

Another quick inhale and he nods.  “Deal.”  

His fingers graze her inner thigh, inches from where she needs them, and she settles back in her seat, finally enjoying herself for once.

4. “Hey, I’m here now.”

Set in the universe of Jon and Dany from Strictly Business

“Jon?”

He can’t stand seeing her like this, can’t bear the sight of her blood, of the bloody wound at her shoulder.  He wants to kill whoever did this to her, rip them apart with his bare hands.  With more time, and more patience, he would be more creative with how he did it, but the woman in his arms demanded his immediate attention.

Grey was right behind, the two of them having extracted Dany from their attempted breach of Harrenhal.  They’d barely made it out, the vehicle parked haphazardly outside one of the little safe houses Dany kept tucked away pockmarked with bullet holes, the windshield shattered out completely.

That was easily replaced, Dany was not.

LILLIAN MY BABY - prepare yourself for some soft shit!

6.  “We can do it together, okay?” 

 (Although dropping the okay and replacing it with someone universe-appropriate :))

Jon and Dany in the universe of Arranged

“Mother!”  Dany’s pained gasp echoes throughout the chamber, as she writhes on the bed in agony.  The hour has come, at last, and the babe within her readies to be birthed, and she is absolutely and completely terrified.  “It hurts!”

Rhaella hurries to sit beside her, perching nervously and wiping at her daughter’s brow with a cool cloth as the red-robed mid-wife gently examines her progress.

“Don’t be afraid, sweetling.  You are doing so well.  Not much longer now, and you can push, I think.”  Her mother exchanges a look with the mid-wife, who gives a terse nod.

“Soon,” is all the woman says, and it only makes Dany’s fear grow sharper.  She is not sure she trusts these servants of R’hllor, but she has little choice, in this moment.

“Where is Jon?”  Her mother frowns at her whimper, and slides the cool cloth against her cheek.

Rhaella clucks her tongue and glances towards the door.  “He is outside, with Barristan and Arthur and Gerold, no doubt wearing a path into the stone.”

She had thought she was ready, but she is not.  She needs him.  He makes her feel stronger, braver, than she ever has alone.

“Fetch him,” she pleads.  “Please!”  She knows her mother well enough to see the telltale sign that she is going to push back against Dany’s request, and she tries one more desperate tack.  “Mama, please!”  She hasn’t called her mother that since her girlhood, and she sees immediately the way Rhaella’s face softens at the endearment.  Another pain seizes her body, and she groans through it, sweat slicking her hair, her brow creased with effort.  “Please.  I need him.”

It is enough, she sees, and the first relief she has felt sweeps through her as the pain subsides for a moment, and her mother rushes to the door.

And then he is there, her sweet Jon, her husband, his face white as a ghost when he sees the state of her and scurries to her side.

“Dany?”  He presses fevered kisses to her brow and takes her hand in his larger grip.  “Gods, are you alright?”

She nods, forcing a smile, but the birthing pains are coming faster now, and she lets out a small scream as the next hits.  But his hand in hers, oh yes, that is what she craved, the strong, cool strength of him next to her.

Still, her fear will not depart, and when she can speak again she finds his eyes, dark and worried, trained on her.  “I don’t know if I can do this, Jon.  It hurts.  It hurts so much.”

At her words, his own frantic fear seems to dissipate, and a calm sureness takes him.  Wordlessly, he helps her sit up, climbs nimbly behind her on her birthing bed, his thighs bracketing her, his chest behind her back, his lips at her ear.

“Yes, you can, Dany.  You can do anything.  I’ve seen it.”  His absolute surety seeps into her, bit by hit, and now, when the next contraction takes her, he is just behind her, his hands clenched in hers as she endures it.  “Besides, you aren’t alone.  We can do it together, yes?”  She nods, tiredly, and gives him a wan smile.

The mid-wife between her spread thighs looks up, lips turned up at the corners as she appears pleased by Dany’s progress.

“When the next comes, you must bear down, dragon daughter.”

Dany nods, relaxing against Jon, letting him support her weight as he whispers assurances into her ear, and the pain comes again, and again, and time seems to speed by, a blur of enormous agony and blissful relief when finally, the pressure reaches its’ peak, and she pushes as hard as she can, feeling her babe slip from her body as the mid-wife makes to raise the baby so that she and Jon can see.

She has a moment of panic when she sees the babe, streaked in blood and fluids, not making a sound, but with a quick smack to the babe’s bottom a small mouth opens and a wail fills the room.  It is the sweetest sound she’s ever heard.

The cord that binds them still is cut, and several women are cleaning the squirming, squalling bundle, and when she looks to her mother she finds the older woman crying, a dazed smile on her lips.

“it’s a boy,” her mother says quietly, and behind her Jon trembles.

A hot, wet drop falls onto her neck, and she sees that he, too, is crying, tears sliding down his cheeks as he looks at Rhaella, his face a mask of shock and joy.

“A boy?”

She has never felt more tired in her life, when her small boy is swaddled and laid in her arms, and her eyes blur with tears as she sees his tiny, beautiful face for the first time.

His hair is dark, like his father’s, and it thrills her to her core.  He is the finest man she has ever known, and she cannot expect his son will be any less.

“Torrhen,” she whispers down at the babe, as her mother helps her work her shift aside so that he might nurse.  “That is his name.”

Her mother beams, and behind her, Jon draws in a breath.  “A Northern name,” he whispers.  “Are you certain?”

She lays her head back, to rest upon his shoulder, as his soon roots against her chest.  “A fine name for a King, I think.”

He kisses her temple, then her cheek, then cranes his neck to reach her lips, and she can feel how he smiles against her.  “I love you,” he says, so quiet that she thinks only she can hear.  “I love you,” he chants, “I love you, I love you.”

She wants to savor each moment of this, in his arms, his son nursing at her breast, but sleep claims her, at last, a peaceful quiet darkness that folds around the small little family she has made for herself.