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Lost in Meme

Give me one of my own stories, and a timestamp sometime in the future after the end of the story, or sometime in the past before the story started, and I'll try to write you at least a hundred words of what happened then, whether it's five minutes before the story started or ten years in the future.

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( 18 comments — Leave a comment )
classics_lover
Jan. 22nd, 2016 12:44 pm (UTC)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5410361 Let's Do It, their 20th wedding anniversary please ?
doreyg
Jan. 31st, 2016 12:58 pm (UTC)
Fill: In Love [Rivers of London, Peter/Nightingale]
"Centaurs," I huffed just a touch bitterly as I got back in the car, plucked a leaf from my hair and stared at the blood splattered crinkle mournfully, "it just had to be centaurs, didn't it?"

"You sound surprised," Thomas murmured, and gave me a warm smile when I looked over. Those same eyes that'd wooed me so long ago, in a just slightly younger face, "it's always something on these days, remember? On our tenth it was that minotaur, on our fifth-"

"There was that plague of multiple headless horsemen in the middle of Soho," I sighed, and sent him a warm grin in return. Felt flattered over how he still seemed to be addicted to the sight of my lips even all these years later, "I know, and I suppose centaurs are a tiny bit better than either of those things. It's just... Well."

"Well?" Thomas asked patiently, and reached out to take my slightly more wrinkled hand in his slightly softer one.

"Is it too much to ask," I huffed wryly, with a certain amount of resignation, "to have one anniversary where mythical creatures aren't trying to kill us?"

"Oh, Peter," Thomas huffed fondly, and leaned over to drop a warm kiss on my cheek before throwing the car into drive, "you'd get bored if it was any other way."
classics_lover
Jan. 31st, 2016 01:41 pm (UTC)
Re: Fill: In Love [Rivers of London, Peter/Nightingale]
Aw, bless ♥
night_owl_9
Jan. 22nd, 2016 07:24 pm (UTC)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5762620 - Can you write about her first solo flight?
doreyg
Jan. 31st, 2016 02:27 pm (UTC)
Fill: To Leap [Supergirl, Kara]
She’s thirteen years old and she’s more alone than she’s ever been. Her planet has just exploded, or exploded years ago from what her cousin said, and all of the people she’s ever loved are dead or so distant from her that they might as well be. The Danvers family seem nice enough, the caring mother and the relaxed father and Alex already so protective of her, but... Well, they’re not yet home. They’re not her mother holding her tight, her father telling her stories of the house of El, her little cousin not even able to speak yet.

It’s strange, and scary, and she’s still not quite sure how to react.

Most nights she stays in her room, listens to Alex talk about school or play strange earth music on the primitive thing they call a stereo, but tonight the sky went redder than usual at sunset and she’s feeling so homesick that it hurts. She waits until Alex goes for a shower, then inches open the window and slips carefully out onto the roof.

Has Kal-El ever felt this way? She wonders as she makes her way to the edge and stares out at the now dark sky, has Kal-El ever felt alone? Scared? Like the universe is slipping away around him and there’s not a single thing to grab onto?

...Surely not. He arrived here as a baby, he was raised by humans, he doesn’t even remember what Krypton was like. It seems impossible that her big strong cousin, who hasn’t been the chubby baby she knew for decades now, could ever experience a moment of doubt. He has a cape, he has super strength, he has the ability to fly. He’s probably never known a moment of fear in his life, not with the whole sky thrown open to him. And only him.

...Right?

She stares at the night sky, so much clearer than it ever was on Krypton, and then down at her feet. Shifts a little, and then slowly glances up again to the glittering stars above. It’s insane, and foolish, and so dangerous that she can imagine her new foster mother screaming at her in fear even now-

But they have the same blood, don’t they?

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, imagines her cousin so strong and brave and brilliantly blue against an even bluer sky... And steps shakily forwards.

And soars.
ragnarok_08
Jan. 22nd, 2016 07:51 pm (UTC)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5711992 - can you write about how Dick Grayson and Tiger first met?
doreyg
Jan. 30th, 2016 06:46 pm (UTC)
Fill: Sky Blue [Grayson, pre-Dick Grayson/Tiger]
Dick Grayson is irrelevant. He's the lowest ranking agent, he's the lowest type of human and he's the perfect example of a pampered rich boy thinking that he's so much more than he actually is. He's a meaningless child and a cipher at best, and he can easily see himself ignoring such a man for the rest of his career.

Dick Grayson is an idiot. He dances into danger without thinking, he distracts Alia without even trying and he grins so wide that it's like he's inviting somebody to knock out all of his teeth. He's a fool and a liability, and he can easily see himself hating such a man for the rest of his life.

Dick Grayson is a distraction. He flips like an acrobat in the big top, he moves like a dream in the darkest night and he looks so gorgeous that it's hard to tear attention away from him for even a moment. His hair is black and his eyes are the most beautiful shade of blue, and he could easily lose himself in staring at such a man for the rest of eternity.

Dick Grayson...

Is worth, he begrudgingly admits as he watches the man execute an absolutely perfect flip, keeping an eye on.
likewinning
Jan. 23rd, 2016 01:25 am (UTC)
And Liquor Bottles, Steph and Kate forming the band.
doreyg
Jan. 30th, 2016 07:00 pm (UTC)
Fill: Retro Glamour [Hawkeye/DCU, Kate/Steph + Kate/Clint]
"We should form a band," Steph says, with utter enthusiasm.

It's sometime past midnight, but before dawn. The world outside is dark and cold, but she can't give too much of a shit because here in the bed it's light from their phones and warm from the alcohol they've been drinking. Empty bottles of vodka are lined neatly up on the headboard, glitter coats the sheets and Steph's hair is spread out over the pillows like a sunrise.

"A band?" She asks, wobbling on her elbows only a little.

"Yeah," Steph smiles at her, also a bit like a sunrise, and reaches up to helpfully boop her nose. It doesn't help that much, she soon tumbles off her elbows and down onto the bed, "like, I can sing..."

"I've heard you in the shower," she agrees, muffled into the sheets and painful with the glitter working its way up her nose.

"And I know you can sing because I've heard you in the shower," Steph pats her shoulder vaguely. She can't exactly see, doesn't exactly have the coordination right now to push herself up, but she thinks the girl is grinning, "and you still have that guitar from your old roommate, right?"

"Um," she says, and thinks of Clint. Thinks of how he held that guitar, how he looked at her like he wanted to hold her, how he threw it all away again and again and- "right."

"Yeah!" Steph laughs, still with utter enthusiasm. Doesn't notice the way that she stiffens in the sheets, "and that's all we need, really, for the whole starting a band thing. It's an excellent idea, don't you think?"

'Right,' she mouths one more time, and vows to stop thinking about Clint.
likewinning
Jan. 30th, 2016 07:04 pm (UTC)
Re: Fill: Retro Glamour [Hawkeye/DCU, Kate/Steph + Kate/Clint]
"Um," she says, and thinks of Clint. Thinks of how he held that guitar, how he looked at her like he wanted to hold her, how he threw it all away again and again and- "right."
AUGHHHHH KATIE. ;_____;

I love this to bits. Steph is so damn cute and I love that Katie is sort of the voice of reason here, at least by default. And man, if anyone can make Kate stop thinking about Clint it is definitely Stephanie fucking Brown. :> THANK YOU.
doreyg
Feb. 2nd, 2016 07:16 pm (UTC)
Re: Fill: Retro Glamour [Hawkeye/DCU, Kate/Steph + Kate/Clint]
Thank youuuuu! :D I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT. I just love the idea of them together, and they're so fun to write! ALL THE GLITTER AND MAKE-OUTS AND BAND STUFF!
oh_mcgee
Jan. 23rd, 2016 10:54 pm (UTC)
Anything post On Bated Tooth and Claw! :D
doreyg
Jan. 30th, 2016 04:59 pm (UTC)
Fill: Holding Breath
[A/N: I have a bit more of this, and it may see the light of day soon if I can wrangle it, but I hope you enjoy this snippet for now!]

--

The first time that Barry Allen sees him in this universe he attempts to punch him in the face.

"Whoa," he says amiably, and easily ducks the swing. Dodges a second time, and then uses his speed to dart away and come to a stylish stop well outside the reach of those pernicious fists, "calm down, Barry, I'm not here to hurt you."

"You're dead," Barry spits, downright shaking with rage, and... Okay, as much as he loves to believe in his own abilities maybe the boy’s inability to land a single punch wasn’t entirely down to him. Barry is shaking, not the righteous little tremble of rage he’s seen a few heroes give before they dispense justice but a full body shudder like he’s barely avoiding the urge to fall apart, “I saw you die, I saw you dissolve. You’re dead.”

“That-“ and he could be sarcastic, he could be cutting, he could be his usual dickhead of a self and stamp all over this boy’s heart without a thought. It wouldn’t take too much effort, he’s done much the same before with relative ease, “Barry, that wasn’t me.”

But he can’t.

For as much as he wants to pretend otherwise, as much as he sometimes wishes he could go back a few years and regain the cool heartlessness he made his trademark before, he knows exactly how Barry feels. To see a copy of the boy he loved standing there with not a scratch on him, to see somebody thought long lost looking so very alike and yet so subtly different... Well, it’s almost more than he can take.

Barry pauses, stills just enough for him to see that much loved face again. A moment of hesitation stretches between them, understated and sharp, “that... Wasn’t you?”

He shakes his head slowly, placatingly. Resists the urge, strong though it is, to vibrate up a storm himself.

“...What?”

“I think you’re aware,” he says slowly, and chances a careful step closer – towards Barry, suddenly alive and well again, “of alternate universes?”
oh_mcgee
Jan. 31st, 2016 06:39 pm (UTC)
Re: Fill: Holding Breath

“That-“ and he could be sarcastic, he could be cutting, he could be his usual dickhead of a self and stamp all over this boy’s heart without a thought. It wouldn’t take too much effort, he’s done much the same before with relative ease, “Barry, that wasn’t me.”

But he can’t.


Ugh i love him and I love that this is in his POV. This is lovely, thank you and I can't wait for more!
doreyg
Jan. 30th, 2016 07:07 pm (UTC)
Fill: Holding Breath
[A/N: I have a bit more of this, and it may see the light of day soon if I can wrangle it, but I hope you enjoy this snippet for now!]

--

The first time that Barry Allen sees him in this universe he attempts to punch him in the face.

"Whoa," he says amiably, and easily ducks the swing. Dodges a second time, and then uses his speed to dart away and come to a stylish stop well outside the reach of those pernicious fists, "calm down, Barry, I'm not here to hurt you."

"You're dead," Barry spits, downright shaking with rage, and... Okay, as much as he loves to believe in his own abilities maybe the boy’s inability to land a single punch wasn’t entirely down to him. Barry is shaking, not the righteous little tremble of rage he’s seen a few heroes give before they dispense justice but a full body shudder like he’s barely avoiding the urge to fall apart, “I saw you die, I saw you dissolve. You’re dead.”

“That-“ and he could be sarcastic, he could be cutting, he could be his usual dickhead of a self and stamp all over this boy’s heart without a thought. It wouldn’t take too much effort, he’s done much the same before with relative ease, “Barry, that wasn’t me.”

But he can’t.

For as much as he wants to pretend otherwise, as much as he sometimes wishes he could go back a few years and regain the cool heartlessness he made his trademark before, he knows exactly how Barry feels. To see a copy of the boy he loved standing there with not a scratch on him, to see somebody thought long lost looking so very alike and yet so subtly different... Well, it’s almost more than he can take.

Barry pauses, stills just enough for him to see that much loved face again. A moment of hesitation stretches between them, understated and sharp, “that... Wasn’t you?”

He shakes his head slowly, placatingly. Resists the urge, strong though it is, to vibrate up a storm himself.

“...What?”

“I think you’re aware,” he says slowly, and chances a careful step closer – towards Barry, suddenly alive and well again, “of alternate universes?”
doreyg
Jan. 30th, 2016 07:50 pm (UTC)
Fill: Holding Breath
[A/N: I have a bit more of this, and it may see the light of day soon if I can wrangle it, but I hope you enjoy this snippet for now!]

--

The first time that Barry Allen sees him in this universe he attempts to punch him in the face.

"Whoa," he says amiably, and easily ducks the swing. Dodges a second time, and then uses his speed to dart away and come to a stylish stop well outside the reach of those pernicious fists, "calm down, Barry, I'm not here to hurt you."

"You're dead," Barry spits, downright shaking with rage, and... Okay, as much as he loves to believe in his own abilities maybe the boy’s inability to land a single punch wasn’t entirely down to him. Barry is shaking, not the righteous little tremble of rage he’s seen a few heroes give before they dispense justice but a full body shudder like he’s barely avoiding the urge to fall apart, “I saw you die, I saw you dissolve. You’re dead.”

“That-“ and he could be sarcastic, he could be cutting, he could be his usual dickhead of a self and stamp all over this boy’s heart without a thought. It wouldn’t take too much effort, he’s done much the same before with relative ease, “Barry, that wasn’t me.”

But he can’t.

For as much as he wants to pretend otherwise, as much as he sometimes wishes he could go back a few years and regain the cool heartlessness he made his trademark before, he knows exactly how Barry feels. To see a copy of the boy he loved standing there with not a scratch on him, to see somebody thought long lost looking so very alike and yet so subtly different... Well, it’s almost more than he can take.

Barry pauses, stills just enough for him to see that much loved face again. A moment of hesitation stretches between them, understated and sharp, “that... Wasn’t you?”

He shakes his head slowly, placatingly. Resists the urge, strong though it is, to vibrate up a storm himself.

“...What?”

“I think you’re aware,” he says slowly, and chances a careful step closer – towards Barry, suddenly alive and well again, “of alternate universes?”
doreyg
Jan. 30th, 2016 08:12 pm (UTC)
Fill: Holding Breath
[A/N: I have a bit more of this, and it may see the light of day soon if I can wrangle it, but I hope you enjoy this snippet for now!]

--

The first time that Barry Allen sees him in this universe he attempts to punch him in the face.

"Whoa," he says amiably, and easily ducks the swing. Dodges a second time, and then uses his speed to dart away and come to a stylish stop well outside the reach of those pernicious fists, "calm down, Barry, I'm not here to hurt you."

"You're dead," Barry spits, downright shaking with rage, and... Okay, as much as he loves to believe in his own abilities maybe the boy’s inability to land a single punch wasn’t entirely down to him. Barry is shaking, not the righteous little tremble of rage he’s seen a few heroes give before they dispense justice but a full body shudder like he’s barely avoiding the urge to fall apart, “I saw you die, I saw you dissolve. You’re dead.”

“That-“ and he could be sarcastic, he could be cutting, he could be his usual dickhead of a self and stamp all over this boy’s heart without a thought. It wouldn’t take too much effort, he’s done much the same before with relative ease, “Barry, that wasn’t me.”

But he can’t.

For as much as he wants to pretend otherwise, as much as he sometimes wishes he could go back a few years and regain the cool heartlessness he made his trademark before, he knows exactly how Barry feels. To see a copy of the boy he loved standing there with not a scratch on him, to see somebody thought long lost looking so very alike and yet so subtly different... Well, it’s almost more than he can take.

Barry pauses, stills just enough for him to see that much loved face again. A moment of hesitation stretches between them, understated and sharp, “that... Wasn’t you?”

He shakes his head slowly, placatingly. Resists the urge, strong though it is, to vibrate up a storm himself.

“...What?”

“I think you’re aware,” he says slowly, and chances a careful step closer – towards Barry, suddenly alive and well again, “of alternate universes?”
doreyg
Jan. 30th, 2016 08:38 pm (UTC)
Fill: Holding Breath
[A/N: I have a bit more of this, and it may see the light of day soon if I can wrangle it, but I hope you enjoy this snippet for now!]

--

The first time that Barry Allen sees him in this universe he attempts to punch him in the face.

"Whoa," he says amiably, and easily ducks the swing. Dodges a second time, and then uses his speed to dart away and come to a stylish stop well outside the reach of those pernicious fists, "calm down, Barry, I'm not here to hurt you."

"You're dead," Barry spits, downright shaking with rage, and... Okay, as much as he loves to believe in his own abilities maybe the boy’s inability to land a single punch wasn’t entirely down to him. Barry is shaking, not the righteous little tremble of rage he’s seen a few heroes give before they dispense justice but a full body shudder like he’s barely avoiding the urge to fall apart, “I saw you die, I saw you dissolve. You’re dead.”

“That-“ and he could be sarcastic, he could be cutting, he could be his usual dickhead of a self and stamp all over this boy’s heart without a thought. It wouldn’t take too much effort, he’s done much the same before with relative ease, “Barry, that wasn’t me.”

But he can’t.

For as much as he wants to pretend otherwise, as much as he sometimes wishes he could go back a few years and regain the cool heartlessness he made his trademark before, he knows exactly how Barry feels. To see a copy of the boy he loved standing there with not a scratch on him, to see somebody thought long lost looking so very alike and yet so subtly different... Well, it’s almost more than he can take.

Barry pauses, stills just enough for him to see that much loved face again. A moment of hesitation stretches between them, understated and sharp, “that... Wasn’t you?”

He shakes his head slowly, placatingly. Resists the urge, strong though it is, to vibrate up a storm himself.

“...What?”

“I think you’re aware,” he says slowly, and chances a careful step closer – towards Barry, suddenly alive and well again, “of alternate universes?”
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