#qbwips

[queerbrujas]

sharing another little wip w/o context bc I wrote this today and it slaps actually

—

I'd let you ruin me, if only you wanted to.

Do you want to?

Will you ruin yourself and take me down—lift me up—with you?

I want you to want to; that is the core of it. I want you to want what I do so both of us are ruined and broken, which then means we are exalted and whole, because I'm not broken if you are broken with me.

[queerbrujas]

"I'd follow you anywhere."

"Anywhere?... I could ruin us."

"I'd let you ruin me."

[queerbrujas]

wip wednesday

i haven't done this in... a while, and this is less a real wip than it is an ongoing thing about my ocs that has no structure whatsoever, but i have been writing and i wanted to share i guess

—

“You should stay.”

The words just kind of… come out.

They’d been planning on asking for a while now, so it’s not like they’re surprising themself or having any sort of revelation, but they hadn’t thought of doing it now. It’s drawn out of them, though, by how comfortable Anais looks, curled up on their couch scrolling through her phone. By how much they don’t want her to leave.

“What, like tonight? I’m already staying, dummy,” she says, with only the briefest glance up from her phone. And that’s a way out that Rieke would gladly have taken until not that long ago.

“No, like… stay. For good.”

That gets her attention. She sets down her phone and looks at them curiously, leaning forward and resting a hand on their leg. Anais’ undivided attention—always a bit too intense.

[queerbrujas]

when you have a character who will absolutely not shut up when prompted to talk about their feelings

[queerbrujas]

“You’re louder than usual,” Morgan says, and it’s just as casual as the way she’s leaning against the doorframe. Despite the roughness of the statement, there’s no bite to her voice. It’s just… Morgan.

Same Morgan as always.

The same Morgan she’s spent months and months getting to know, that she trains with until she can’t stand upright, that she spends evenings with on the roof of the Warehouse, sitting in silence.

Just Morgan.

(Fucking gorgeous Morgan, Morgan who tastes like woodsmoke and who kisses like she’s a lifeline and whose skin felt soft and warm under Eva’s hands. That Morgan, too.)

“I need to talk to you.”

[queerbrujas]

wip wednesday

thank you @dierosenrot for the tag! life has been life lately so i have barely written anything, but here is another snippet from the eva/morgan wip that i am definitely still working on

She could take a seat—on the bed, on the chair by the corner—but she doesn’t. She turns to face Morgan, who has perched herself on the dresser and is still looking at her with that unreadable, curious expression.

Eva purses her lips. Words are never easy, especially not with something like this. But resolve is not something she lacks.

“I’m still thinking about that kiss,” she says, without preamble, each word carefully formed and forced out. Jumping right into the fire.

Morgan doesn’t say anything, not yet, but her posture shifts. She tilts her head to the side (and if running her hand through her hair is one of Morgan’s gestures, this is one of Eva’s), and she leans forward from where she’s perched against the dresser.

“And I want to know if you are too,” Eva presses on, when no response seems to be coming.

“Sweetheart, you’re the only thing I think about these days.” She says it matter-of-factly, as though it shouldn’t be at all surprising. The same way she’s said similar things before. But it sends a jolt of feeling through Eva’s body. “Of course I’m thinking about the damn kiss.”

tagging @tuagonia @dwead-piwate-meggers @impossible-rat-babies @tinyuselessmagics (no pressure!)

[queerbrujas]

vague hints at nsft under the cut

[queerbrujas]

snippet sunday

hi i’m actually finally working on something—this is a follow up to and I was set alight, because I have not known peace since I read the M route in the book 3 demo (no spoilers here though)

Just outside the door to Morgan’s bedroom, Eva waits. Bottom lip between her teeth, rocking back on her heels just for something to do while she’s standing here. She runs a hand through her hair, in a gesture that she knows she has picked up from Morgan, and just waits.

She’s not going to knock.

If Morgan wants to talk to her—and that’s a big ‘if’, now; that’s an ‘if’ she hasn’t had to consider in months—then it won’t be long before she opens the door. There’s no way she doesn’t know she’s here.

But what if she doesn’t want to talk?

What if this entire thing was a mistake?

How long is she going to stand here?

Too many questions, too many what-ifs. This level of uncertainty isn’t something Eva has to deal with often. Then again, nothing about this situation is; she’s never felt so off-balance in her whole damn life.

(Nothing, not even the bounty on her head, has ever felt so life-or-death as this.)

You should get some rest, sweetheart, Morgan had said, low and not unkind, thumb brushing over Eva’s lips, and they’d left it like that. Left it like that after a kiss that still has Eva’s mind reeling, a kiss that felt like—like nothing else she has ever felt before. Not even a single point of comparison.

Shit, Morgan, please open the door.

tagging @coldshrugs @dierosenrot @weakzen @evilbunnyking @zarneki @tinyuselessmagics and anyone who feels like sharing~ (and ty @narrativefoiltrope for the tag!)