#nyc au

[sillyb00ks]

[starlightweave]

So I will be afk for a bit next month, as I'll be on a trip with my mom, going on tours of old mansions in Charleston, an activity modern AU Gale would ABSOLUTELY ADORE.

For example, I had this wonderfully enthusiastic and flamboyant tour guide with an incredibly coordinated red themed outfit (red converse, red plaid shirt, a red earring, and even a red phone case!) at Lyndhurst Manor in Tarrytown NY years ago, who would've been Gale's new best friend 😂 This guy showed us old fashioned turn of the century toaster and said "Isn't this just the bees knees!?" like PLEASE that is EXACTLY how Gale talks 🤣 (Note to self: make him say something is "the bees knees" in The Bitter & The Sweet)

I imagine Gale would ask TONS of questions on these tours, and a really enthusiastic guide who loves the history of the house would be THRILLED at that. Everyone ELSE on the tour however would HATE HIM tho like OH NOT THIS FUCKIN GUY AGAIN (i will definitely be slipping this into the nyc au lmao Gale takes Silmë out to Tarrytown for a weekend to see a bunch of beautiful mansions~)

Anyway I am excited to see her anyway (we live far apart for some time now 😭) but as we are currently texting about this hideous interior design job being praised in the NY times, I am also very much looking forward to hanging out with her and unapologetically roasting everyone 🤣

[pinkcorduroyjeans]

Sirius is the son of a diplomat. Remus is the son of a music producer. It's the 70s. They both find themselves in NYC. What could possibly go wrong?

[kpforpresident]

prompt idea - “I’m pretty sure that’s not what the directions said to do.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what the directions said to do.”

Lexa's eyebrows met perfectly in the middle, a thundercloud brewing above the crown of her head as she threw the Allen wrench down.

"Clarke, if you think it's that simple, then why am I the one that's been squatting on the floor for the past fourty-five minutes, trying to get this damn screw to thread?"

The ikea couch sat in front of her, taunting her, as it teetered, the second set of legs half- attached.

Clarke swung her legs from her perch on the kitchen counter, smoothing the 14 page direction set in her hands as she looked down at her grumpy partner.

The instructions crinkled as she brandished the paper in question, wordlessly shaking the graphic in her hand.

"Lex, it's not my fault you won't read the directions prior to starting the damn project. Also, I am the one who is growing an entire human, and you told me that would get me out of squatting on the floor, furniture duties for the next 15 years."

Lexa felt her lips quirk into a small smile as Clarke slipped off the counter, good naturedly propping her hands behind her back to stretch her spine, a pale flash of 6 month pregnancy belly showing momentarily under her cropped black top.

Lexa, as if pulled by magnets, found herself sidling up to her pregnant wife, threading her fingers through silky blonde hair, nosing her way towards a toasty warm neck, dappled with baby hairs.

"You're right my darling- I'm sorry. Let's get my girls their lunch and then I'll call Raven to put the damn thing together- she owes me after that prank last year."

"How was she meant to know that you were going to actually slip on that banana peel, Lex--"

"She owes me!"

The sound of Clarke's laughter floated through the open doorway as Lexa tugged her into the kitchen, dust motes swirling through the buttery light of the late morning.

[coiled-dragon]

Henry Creel x Will Byers

Can’t get this ship out of my head lmao. This board is inspired by an RP Im doing with a friend

[sterekxhale]

Oooooh can we get a snippet from Color Me In AND nyc au??

yes!!

so I've posted about nyc au before (i think i called it collide at one point??) here and here. to recap: human au set in nyc with grad student derek and tattooed stiles and they're both kind of fucked up and make bad life decisions, but they're trying. oh and laura is there :)

"I don't think anyone will fault you for what you said. One look at his art and they'll understand," Derek says. "Besides, he's an artist. To avoid criticism, say nothing, do nothing, be nothing."

"Oh shut up," Laura says, hitting him in the arm.

Wordlessly, she holds out the cigarette, and they share it as they walk down the street together. It almost feels like they're who they were before they lost everything.

//

and colour me in, i don't think i've ever posted about this one. to summarize: it's an angsty canon compliant (but not movie compliant) future fic, stiles comes back to beacon hills for the first time in 8 years because derek is in a coma after a big explosion. but stiles is super fucked up from something that happened in the past. it's as much focused on sterek as it is on stiles and scott's friendship. stiles is a pretty big asshole (basically taking his character from canon and saying, what if.....?)

He stands next to the bed wondering how they got to this point.

“Hell of a mess you got yourself into.” He listens to the mechanical breathing for a minute, an inappropriate joke about Darth Vader that only Derek would laugh at comes to mind. 

“You know, I’m pretty angry with you. Considering the circumstances, I’m probably not allowed to be, but I wasn’t going to come back to Beacon Hills again, and here I am, standing at your bedside,” he says, quietly. “So, asshole, you better wake up and heal yourself because I don’t want to be burying you next.”

Nothing changes. No twitch of a finger or movement of an eyelid. Not that he really expected anything, Derek is in a medically induced coma and even werewolves can’t fight off the heavy sedation drugs.

[chispas-and-broken-bindings]

For your prompt thing--Jonsa and numbers 17 + 25 please!

@estherruth-jonsatrash you sent me this prompt AGES ago!

17 + 25: Mob + sex then love

I had the idea immediately, but I did not have the knowledge nor the skill (I still don't). Either way, I finally have a first chapter to give you (of 4...I think. Don't quote me on that), with hopefully the second coming fairly soon. It's mostly written as well.

Here you go!

And a teaser below the cut (full chapter on Ao3):

If it weren’t December, Sansa would roll her window down and embrace the stench of lower Manhattan over the cloying scent of mint and cloves, but she’d left her coat at home. Petyr was taking her to the club and it was next to impossible to get the smell of smoke out of suede. She’d have to hang the coat from her fire escape and risk the girls from 12B stealing it. Last month, she’d run into Shae on their narrow stairs, leaving the building in her yellow plaid jumper; the one with an S that Sansa had embroidered on the pocket. She hadn’t breathed a word of protest though. Without Shae and Gilly’s help navigating her new, limited independence, she’d have already locked herself back in Petyr’s gilded cage. 

“This isn’t the way to the Water Gardens,” she observed, turning from her window to glance at her would-be keeper. He sat leaning against the opposite door, watching her. He was always watching her. Lyn was driving the Continental south on Lafayette when he should have been headed north, and she had more than a passing suspicion they were making for the Brooklyn Bridge. 

“I hate your hair like that,” Peytr said, his eyes traveling down from her halo of kinky curls to land, with considerable more appreciation, on her gold lame mini-dress. She’d spent four precious hours wrapping her hair in foil to achieve the effect; four hours when she could have been catching up on sleep or practicing her shorthand. She didn’t care what Petyr thought. She loved her hair, and it was Oberyn Martell she was aiming to impress. “You look tired. You should quit that silly job at Bonwit Teller.”

That silly job paid her rent, she wanted to remind him, but then he’d only argue for her to quit her studio apartment in the Village and live with him again, and she couldn’t do that.

They started across the bridge, and she huffed, crossing and uncrossing her legs in agitation. 

“You’re taking me to a fight.”

“Don’t fret. I just need to see about a match. We’ll be back in Manhattan before Oberyn blows through his first 8-ball. You don’t want to seem desperate, do you?”

A bit late for that, she thought, clasping her fingers in her lap, looking down the long expanse of skin to her gold leather stilettos. Her mother would roll over in her grave. “Of course not, Petyr. You know best.”

“That’s why I’m your manager, doll.” From uncle, to legal guardian, to manager, to what next? It was a question that kept her up at night, but what could Sansa do? Rickon and Bran were still his wards, and he controlled all of her money; all but what she earned selling lipstick at the Bonwit makeup counter five days a week. 

“I just hate the fights. You know that.”

“We’ll be in and out before the match even starts.” 

It was an old, tired lie.  

[mamabearcatfanart]

'Thank you so much to whoever nominated First Impressions for a Quarter 3 2021 Feudal Connections Award! Have this piece of art as a thank you gift, that goes with the short chapter that I'm working on right now. Kagome looks very happy and excited about something. Inu, not so much. New York background image by Josh Hild and available for free use from Pexels Have a small snippet to whet your appetite... "Tell me why I agreed to do this again?" Inuyasha yawned widely, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes as they climbed the stairs back up to street level from 8th Avenue subway station. Kagome was practically skipping beside him, her cheeks rosy in the cool early morning air. "Because I'm your best friend and you haven't seen me for two weeks and you really really want to spend time with me?" she suggested cheerfully. "... Nah, that doesn't sound right." Kagome sighed and jabbed Inuyasha hard in the ribs with her fingers. He clutched his side dramatically, faking a cough. "Damn, so violent", he wheezed. "Are you really sure you're my best friend, because with friends like you..." "Alright, it's because I promised I'd buy you some pretzels and coffee from that German bakery on 14th Street. Why do you have to be such an asshat?" "Hey, you're the one that woke me up early on a Sunday morning. What you see is what you get. Just be grateful I'm only half an asshat. If you were friends with Sesshoumaru, you'd get the full asshat package, and I doubt you'd survive it." "I couldn't bribe him with pretzels and coffee?" "Doubtful. He's an investment banker. Do they even eat? I think he survives by drinking the tears of the vanquished. Just think of Patrick Bateman in that Wall Street serial killer movie. But with a lot less smiling." Kagome shuddered. "No offense, but the more I hear from you about your brother, the more I wish you'd tell me less." "Half-brother. And that is a wish I can very happily grant."