WIP Wednesday & Fic Update!
So, I wrote this fic with a friend. Best Laid Plans, maybe you've read it. If you have, I hope you remember it (If you have, I hope it made you laugh out loud.). It's the one that starts out with Lucanis breaking into Taash's basement while wearing red lacy underwear beneath a trench coat (and now also stripper heels!). You know, like this:
Now, about this fic. I can't seem to write fic without rules to regulate my fun so the rules here, agreed in advance with co-noodler @sorrygoldfish, were that each chapter would feature a different Veilguard member's POV, and that everybody would be getting some sweet Valentine's action (oh yeah, ps, this fic began way back in February. I am timely AF.) I think we really had to stretch ourselves a bit, especially as neither of us had written in most of these character voices for longer than a few dialogue tags. (@sorrygoldfish very astutely pointed out that my first attempt at Emmrich was more... Nigel Thornberry than strictly necessary.)
Anwyay, in the fic so far, we've gone through all the Veilguard crew's POV chapters but Rook's.
We fell in love beneath the stars with Bellara and Neve, in chapters 2 and 5 respectively. They're the couple that hits first base 😘
Things get a bit warmer between Taash and Harding, in chapters 3 and 6, who bring us to round second base 🍉 (tho tbf, third is heavily *ahem lol* implied)
Then, in the fic's most unexpectedly perfect pairing, the boys Davrin and Emmrich serve up the sausage for third base 🍆
But now it's Rook's turn. Time for some sexy Rookanis to bring us on home... ⚾️
A knock at the front door. "Why aren't you striking some sort of pose?" Rook calls out as she crosses the room. There's only one person it can be at this point, and yep—a glance through the peephole confirms it. "You're just standing there. You don't want to, like, make a grand entrance? When I open the door?" Lucanis leans into to eyeball the peephole from the other side. The distortion effect makes his schnoz (and the purple bags beneath his eyes) look enormous. "Should I?" He steps back and assesses his options. (She'd forgotten how ridiculously hot his get-up is, somehow. The trench. The boots. The red lace peeking out.) He kind of wiggles his hips, jutting them one way, then the other, and tests his red boots against her potted plants. "Nope! Not those, please," she exclaims. "I couldn't forgive myself if these ones died, too." He freezes with his leg raised but still fully supported (his thighs, Maker—). It's a good look, she thinks. His muscles are nicely flexed and the angle of the heel tautens his calf and tufts of his leg-hair is sticking out above the top of the red pleather boot, giving the impression of—fishnet, almost?—at least from a distance and in the dim light of the porch. He cocks an eyebrow at the peephole. "It's February. I think these are already de—" "Just pick somewhere else?" He relents. The plants—which are dormant, thanks very much—are safe, for now. He isn't tall enough to lean against one brick wall and brace his leg against the other (but Rook loves him for trying, loves him for failing, loves that she gets to watch it all). Nor does he find a lean with one-leg-cocked sexy enough, apparently. He shakes his head and plants his hands on slim hips. "I don't think—" "Oh, come here," Rook demands, throwing the door open and hauling him inside by the belt of his trench.
Tags for visibility, an invitation to peep, or an invitation to share your own WIP if you like! @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai @epiphany-jones @serialsforbellara @adejareve @tricksy-hobbitses-ao3 @frotees-corner @blightwashed @sorcerousadventurer (yep that's everyone who commented on the fic pretty much lol; hello from my hidey-hole of kinda-existence)
