#but I really had to get these out of my wips

[alasse-earfalas]

I'm reblogging this again because I want to say thank you. Thank you for reminding me why I really love writing.

I've been stuck in a funk for, probably years now, where the primary driving force behind me writing anything was the audience. I loved the stories I was working on, but I was getting burnt out because I felt this weight of obligation to work on them "for my readers". I was left wondering where the joy of writing had fled to.

Enter the OP. This was a huge wake-up call that writing for readers is not fun at all (at least, not for me). It left me wondering why I cared so much about engagement when this was the attitude readers had about it. Why did I even love writing in the first place? Why was writing and telling stories so important to me?

And those last two questions set my muse free.

I looked back at my wips, really paid attention to them, and saw that there are stories that I want to tell. I remembered why I fell in love with these ideas, because I wanted to explore them, because I wanted--and still want--to see what happened next. I'm writing these stories because I love these stories. I think they're cool, I think they're neat, and I want to engage with them and see how they unfold and develop.

The joy of creating. I'd forgotten what it felt like. To just make something because it's fun. Because it tickles my curiosity. Because it makes me feel. Because I love it.

Shouldn't that be our driving force? Shouldn't creative endeavors be, you know, fun? If we spend twelve hours baking a cake, and nobody eats it, are we going to let that ruin the fun we had making the cake? And if it wasn't fun to make, then why are we bothering to make it at all?

We do this in our free time. We do this without being paid. If we do this expecting something in return, we're going to be disappointed. But the joy of creation can reward us all on its own, no likes or kudos or comments required.

Idk, the OP just combined with some other things I was hearing about goals and paying attention to what's important to us, and that gave me a really massive paradigm shift on this whole topic. Why is writing important to us? Why is creating important to us? This goes for readers too: why are these creative pieces important to you? Why are you spending your free time on them? If they brought you joy, why not share that joy with the author/artist/creator?

When our drive changes to joy rather than being bound to audience engagement, it allows us to create more freely. The worth of our project is no longer dependent on the whims of other people. We create because we find joy in it; and if others find joy in it too, all the better!

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[luludeluluramblings]

dream team back. we’re currently yapping central again (per usual)

both of us are straight up in a tim drake brainrot spiral too!!! he’s a delightful little weirdo. a strange little gentleman if you will.

tim is such a funny little guy!!! he also makes a solid yandere. you can’t outsmart him. you can’t escape someone who can find everything about you. On the upside, I feel like he’d be happy to spoil his darling. also he’d be like, really considerate in weird ways??? I mean like you don’t get privacy (or you get the illusion of it maybe but not actual privacy.)

like yeah you’re always being watched in some way, but the man has committed every single one of your favorites and least favorites to memories. He knows what clothing you like, what specific features you look for in everything, and if he doesn’t, by god, will he learn. He knows your favorite song, and he knows the nickname you went by in elementary school.

Do you think he pretends to be normal and basically sets things up to send reader to be like a little love story?? You meet by chance, and he fell first. He fell a LONG time ago, so now it’s his mission to make you fall too. And Tim Drake ALWAYS finishes a mission. (Even as a baby daddy candidate). He makes himself the best option, even if he’s not the father.

Yandere!TimDrake x PastFriend!Reader x Aiden Cobblepot

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Sooooo, I'm finally and slowly going through my ask box and you two may have sparked an idea just for Tim. I might have to do a Part Two for this. (I'm falling into the WIP trap. Help!) But, I love the thought of the Bat Family have competition when it comes to their darling. Gives them a challenge. Plus, I really wanted to use Aiden Cobblepot for this. I've been wanting to sneak him into something.

A/N: We have neglected!Sib!Reader, but what about a Neglected!Friend!Reader? Fun idea. Tim already knowing everything about you only to find you’ve changed and wants to study you all over again. Only this time he’s keeping you! (I’m very fond of Tim. I think he’s difficult to write for me, but I enjoy the little stalker so much.)

Warnings: Yandere Themes, Romantic themes, Tim can be read as kinda platonic, GN!Reader

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You and Tim were once good friends. Well, he was your best friend. To him you were just a good one. High school buddies that would hang out all the time. At school only. And sometimes the rare gala you saw him at. It was rare you ever actually went to The Manor. You never asked to go. But, you had hoped to be invite.

Just like you had hoped that he might reciprocate that pesky crush you had on him back then. You had felt like it was so painfully obvious. Though it wasn't as painful when you finally figured out he was Red Robin and you waited and waited for him to tell you his secret identity. And, then you would tell him you already figured it out and you would look so cool.

Only, he never did. You both grew distant. You had put so much carful effort into keeping that distance from growing. Inviting him to hang out more. Asking him out for casual coffee. He always said the same thing.

"Oh, damn. I could really go for that right now. But, I'm just sorta busy. Next time though. For sure."

Over and over. He sounded like a broken character. Repeating the same phrase. One that you would hang around after the game was over to reminisce about all the fun adventures you both once had. However this was life not a game. You couldn't just restart and rerun the same adventures.

It made you ache when you finally moved on. When you finally pulled away. Because, Tim didn't even notice you were gone. His life to change. He didn't have to restart anything. You had lost your best friend and he didn't even care. It stung. It stung more than you realizing he'd never reciprocate your feelings.

But, like all things, time moves on and so do you. Leaving the past behind and starting a new game. One that you start to flourish in. Making new friends. Meeting new people. Building closer bonds and more healthy friendships. It had been interesting to realize how dependent you had been on Tim once upon a time. And, embarrassing. You can't help looking back on it with a wince. You almost want to reach out and apologize. But, that would be weird and you both live completely separate lives now. You hardly ever see him at galas now. Mostly because you don't go anymore.

Things, do change. You never expected your new partner would draw Tim's attention back to you. And, in such a terrible way.

You had a rough idea of what you were getting into when Aiden Cobblepot had asked you out to dinner. You figured he was only interested in you for your money or your half-decent looks or your family name and position. You had heard all the rumors about him, but still you went. Mostly, because you knew how dangerous he and his family were. And, you were… presently surprised.

He was a bit of an entitled asshole. But, he wasn't scared of getting dirty. You watched him lead you through the puddles of rain water and Gotham grim in the posh restaurant. He held more concern for you're clothing getting dirty than his, which were more expensive than yours. He paid for the date without flinching at the price. Encouraged you to try his own food from his plate. Talked about fond memories of the things he and his sister got up to as children while asking you about your own childhood.

Admittedly, you were easily seduced because after that the two of you became an item. You didn't even realize how official you were until he introduced you to his sister, Addison, and she was actually nice to you. Extremely nice. She did, however, threaten to kill you if you betrayed Aiden in any way, which was honestly fair enough.

Aiden and you were a bit on the opposite side of things, taste wise and morally wise. But, you both made it work. He continued his life of crime, but made no mention of it around you to keep you legally clean. You shared most of your life with him, letting him have a slight glimmer into normalcy. He liked to take you on fancy dates and show you a good time. You were happy to pull him inside just to spend personal time with each other. Of course, you both made compromises. Aiden had a taste for luxury, and you didn't mind indulging in it. Especially after you beat his ass multiple times in Mario cart. It was only fair you let him take you to a gala some point.

Little did you know that that was how Tim would come clawing and digging his way back into your life.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

For Tim seeing you again was like finding an old precious treasure. His life had gotten so difficult and complicate lately that just a reminded of all those old times was nice.

However, seeing you on the arms of the Penguin's son was a brutal wake up call. What were you doing? Had you hit your head? Was he blackmailing you? Drugging you? Everyone in Gotham could recognize the name Cobblepot and how dangerous they are. And, he remembers how smart you were so you couldn't have willing chose to be there. It's not logical.

For your safety, he reintroduces himself to you. Long time, no see. We should hang out some time and catch up. Only he means it. He can't let this happen. He can't let you fall in with a man like that. You're his friend. He'll win you over for your own sake. Ruin Cobblepot while he's at it because how dare he use you.

Even if you changed. Even if you don't smell the same. If your hair is different. If you dress different. Even if your very laugh had changed pitch, he knows you. And, if anything, he can just re-learn you all over again. It won't take long. He's done it all before. This time he'll savor though. This time he won't let you go as he pulls you back in. You were a good friend, this time he'll make you more.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I’m starting to type up Part Three of Pregant!Reader, but I ended up coming up with another start to it with more drama that would be strictly for the BatBoys. The messed up drama in it sounds fun and challenging, but I won’t do it until I finish what I started with the blurbs I have planned included.

A/N: Smalltown!Meta!Reader Part Nine is going to take a while. I have big plans for it, but Pregnant!Reader is kinda outshining it.

A/N: I will post about the LoungeSinger!Reader and another idea I came up with that y’all might like that I’ll add to the concept list.

A/N: There’s a Tony Part Two coming, but it’s only halfway typed and still not that yandere-y. Need to fix that.

A/N: My asks box is full, so I’m gonna try to empty it, but I host Thanksgiving in my family and I’m also a Christmas nut, so I’m gonna be busy. (I have four Christmas trees in my house currently… But I’m not as bad as my in-laws! They had their trees up BEFORE Halloween.)

[eggsandramem]

so ink, huh? ✒️🌧️

anyways, design notes!!!!!!!

GOD CSMP IS RUINING ME :WITHEREDAWAY: /VPOS

that first part to the finale on rats pov got me GRRGHGHR.... THE DEFILE MOD IS SO <333,,, yummy tasty grghhrg the csmp lore as a whole makes me explode too

for Rat;

🐀 - The little rat pattern on the bottom of the maid dress are based on a sweater i really like!! they're super cute, and i thought they fit

🐀 - Had to add the extra rats hehe,,, including an oc of mine for self indulgence :swagzauc: (the fella by rats' boot,,, simplified version of my oc Squeakers!)

🐀 ^ - To add onto the rats, i also gave them inkmorphisized forms!! they get ink whimsy too. as a treat

🐀 - I wanted to incorperate the focus items in the mod into both of their designs somehow, so i gave rat a charm of the Sun Effigy!! funky tail charm,,, but shinyy,,,,

🐀 - The horns are more rounded than sharp due to how they look in the pixel sprites! :D

and for Lux;

🖋 - I decided to add a big tear in her right wing, to add onto the fact that her arm got pretty much chopped off by mouthpiece. lux herself mentioned after i shared a wip that it could also be torn because of how she always dies to fall damage and. i can see it LMFAOO😭😭😭

🖋 - The horns in the inkmorphisis form are more sharp than soft, more because i couldnt figure out how to make that same shape i gave rats' horns fit with the moth antennae,,, it still looks a little weird but fuck it we ball </3

🖋 ^ - On the topic of the horns, ive also given them the small little nubby bits to *kind of* resemble a wardens horns, with their little glowy nubs!! just as a nod towards the 'furniture' mod she made :3c

🖋 - I turned the eyespots in her normal design into the Totem of Uncleansing eyes!!!! like i mentioned in rats' notes, in wanted to incorperate the focus items in the mod into their designs, and i thought putting the totems on the eyespots would be super neat,,, :D

🖋 ^ - Unlike the other eyes on the wings, the eye over the torn wing isnt removed, but is rather put into more of a side-viewed/facing position! i didnt want to make it look like a strange, weirdly cut off eye, so yahoo :3

~~~

RAHHG I LOVED MAKING MY OWN DESIGN INTERPERITATIONS FOR THESE TWO.... I NEED TO MAKE MORE EVENTUALLY BUT I HAVE NO IDEA WHEN THAT WILL BE BECAUSE MY MOTIVATION IS AWFUL,,,, FOR NOW? HAVE THESE TWO.... hwat is their duo name..... ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ ◅

[machveil]

okay pookies!! I’m in a writers slump so I’m going to pop off some mini blurbs with Instagram links<3 because the words are not being written correctly for my wips [cries]🎀✨

Simon “Ghost” Riley

playing with his cat

admittedly, Simon is up at odd hours from bouts of insomnia. it doesn’t really bother him when his cat is up too, sitting in bed and flipping him around. it’s cute, more so funny when he flips his cat off and gets pounced on, not taking it seriously - one of the rare times he’ll let chuckle and crack a smile to himself

John Price:

pranking Price by telling him your tampon is stuck

John comes as soon as you call for him - what he wasn’t expecting was you telling him your tampons stuck. but John’s smart, he sees your phone in his peripheral and doesn’t say anything about it. he knows your pranking him, if it wasn’t obvious from your phone recording him and the way you giggle, well, “I know you’re cycle, love.”

driving around to see Christmas lights

John loves his dog, just a sweetheart. one thing his dog loves is seeing Christmas lights - John doesn’t really know why, but he’s more than happy to drive around so his puppy can see them all. it makes him chuckle seeing their tail wag, heater keeping the car nice and warm as they drive down a couple blocks

John “Soap” MacTavish:

bear hugging Johnny

you didn’t really know what Johnny was doing, you just knew you wanted to hug him. it’s out of the blue, catches him off guard in a way that has him asking if you’re okay - and you are. he doesn’t waste time, moving to scoop you up, hold you close and goof around. he had been organizing your books, just a little surprise

asking Recruiter!Johnny questions

Johnny didn’t want to be stuck recruiting people, but he somehow got picked to do it. what he wasn’t expecting was your question, “Are you hot?”. he wants to sputter out, try to be slick - respond with a, “Well, you can come find out.”, but he stops himself. he knows he’ll be telling the 141 about this, chest puffed up and a lopsided smile as he brags

showing off for the neighbors

Johnny is springy and flexible, his ass can dance. if you catch him while he’s on a jog he’ll flag you down and start flipping around. he’s a show off, it goes to his head how the neighborhood moms watch him. his show is for you, but he won’t turn down the ego boost he gets from others eyeing him up

“you know where the matter daddy is?”

Johnny’s a menace when it comes to the 141, calling Gaz for ‘help’. he can barely get the opener out without laughing, hitting the punchline takes a hot minute. Gaz can hear him sputtering on the other side, little bursts of laughter leaving him. it’s amazing that Gaz falls for the joke at all, Johnny laughing harder as he grips his phone

König:

playing with his cat

does König talk to his pretty kitty in German? of course he does, and he’ll goof around with them too. his favorite thing is pretend dialing on his cat’s toe beans. he’ll pretend to meow for his cat and voice the person ‘on the line’. totally straight faced, he takes business calls with his kitty very seriously

parenting his cat

sometimes being a parent is having human children, other times it’s cradling your baby kitty in your shirt while you make lunch. König is the latter, and he’ll always say how easy it is to be a parent. “Ja, she is a little thing. Here, I have photos—”, he carries printed photos of her in his wallet to show off, his favorite is of her swaddled in bed with her favorite blankie

walking his cat

König likes getting out, it’s natural for him. it gets a little lonely sometimes though… and boy is excited when he learns cat harnesses exist. weather permitting, he enjoys going on walks with his cat. sure, his kitty might wander into a bush here and there, but König will get them out before trailing down the block

[ladyeyrewrites]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @unhingedangstaddict

This is a snippet from my BuckTommy mpreg fic featuring trans Tommy. It doesn't have a title yet and I don't know when I'll finish it.

It seemed Tommy wanted to look anywhere but directly at Buck, which was just another thing Buck had lost. Buck blinked against threatening tears as Tommy glanced around Buck’s loft, eyes taking in the subtle changes that had taken place since they’d broken up, until his gaze settled on the mess that was Buck’s kitchen island. “You’ve been baking.”

Sure, Buck had baked with Chris before to help out with a school bake sale since Eddie was so culinarily clueless but he hadn’t really done it in his own time until he’d found out about Tommy’s sweet tooth. He’d been practicing to make something for Tommy’s birthday but then Tommy had to go and dump him. Bitterness spiked through him. “Yeah. Anytime I get the urge to call you, I just I channel the impulse into something positive, like baked Alaska.”

Tommy’s face twisted with regret, eyes growing glassy. Buck wasn’t sure if that had been his intention or not, but maybe it would be good for Tommy to really see how much Buck had been thinking about him. So, Buck walked over to the fridge and pulled out three loaves, making sure the fridge door was opened wide enough for Tommy to see the extent of Buck’s foray into baking and how often he’d been thinking about reaching out. “Here, you should take some.” He plopped three loaves into Tommy’s unprotesting arms. “Here’s a lemon loaf, and a walnut loaf, and a pumpkin loaf.”

“That’s a lotta loaf,” Tommy managed to say. “Buck, I—”

“Hang on, let me go grab those shirts,” said Buck because hearing Tommy call him by his nickname rather than his name made him want to scream and he didn’t want to do that, not when Tommy looked like anything could cue the waterworks at any moment. So, Buck might have fled his kitchen, jogging upstairs to grab the reusable tote bag of Tommy’s tee shirts and flannels he’d accumulated over their six months together. That bag had been haunting him every night as he lay in bed – alone – trying to fall asleep, wondering if Tommy was also alone or if he’d already managed to find a rebound.

Buck hefted the bag and his heart panged. Once he gave this stuff back, Tommy would well and truly be gone from his life. There’d be no excuse for Buck to reach out. No trace that Tommy had ever been in his life save for the indelible mark he’d left on Buck’s heart. So, Buck did something maybe a little impulsive and indulgent; he snagged one of Tommy’s flannels out of the bag and shoved it under his pillow. He was absolutely not going to bury his face in it and cry himself to sleep later.

As he was engaging in some of the most pathetic breakup behaviour ever, his kitchen timer went off downstairs.

“Buck, do you need me to do something?” Tommy shout up the stairs, voice carrying over the shrill timer beep.

“Yeah, could you just grab the baked brie out of the oven?” he asked. He snagged his favourite Tommy t-shirt out of the bag and stashed it with the stolen flannel too. If Tommy was allowed to unceremoniously dump Buck then Buck was allowed to steal his clothes and not return them.

Buck gave a satisfied nod and started down the stairs to join Tommy. He was halfway down when he heard Tommy gag. Buck looked up from his feet in time to see Tommy turn literally green before unceremoniously dumping Buck’s baked brie on the counter, bee-lining for the sink and vomiting down the drain.

Buck raced down the stairs, rushing to Tommy’s side and rubbing smoothing circles on his back before he even realised what he was doing. “Are you okay?”

“Are you sure that cheese is okay?” Tommy asked catching his breath. “It reeks.”

Buck frowned as he got down a glass and filled it with tap water for Tommy to rinse out his mouth. “Uh yeah,” he said. “And brie’s not a stinky cheese.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Tommy sagged, leaning against Buck’s counter. “But my sense of smell’s been really weird the last few weeks.”

A sinking feeling filled Buck’s stomach. This all sounded very familiar. They’d always been so good about using protection and between birth control and testosterone Tommy hadn’t had a period in well over a decade. But there’d been that little lapse before Tommy had found his new doctor and oh, god they’d definitely had unprotected sex that one time when they were both a little tipsy after getting back from babysitting Eddie. “You’re pregnant,” Buck blurted before his brain could send his tongue anything more tactful to say.

[calicomarie11]

WIP Wednesday

Tommy heard a knock at the door and frowned. He didn’t have any plans tonight. Originally, he and Evan were going to host a game night and after the break up he couldn’t bring himself to make alternate arrangements. His only plans for the night were demolishing a pizza and six-pack while watching whatever sporting event he could find on tv.

He opened the door and watched in confusion as Evan pushed past him, followed by Hen and Eddie. They were carrying cases of beer, bags clinking with bottles and rustling with chips. They flowed into the kitchen, chatting with each other and completely ignoring Tommy’s outraged huff.

He followed them, watching as they started putting the beer in the fridge, Evan pulling out serving bowls for the chips and Eddie being trusted to open the dips.

“What the hell do you think you all are doing?” Tommy spluttered out.

“Setting up for game night,” Evan answered with a cheeky grin.

“I assumed that was canceled, given the fact that we broke up,” Tommy said firmly.

“Except we didn’t break up and we were not about to give up on everyone being off tonight with a day off tomorrow. It took too long to get this scheduled to cancel it,” Evan said as he continued to arrange cheese, meat and crackers on Tommy’s charcuterie board. A board Tommy only had because Evan had brought it over the first time they hosted game night and had never taken it back.

“Buck, you can’t just invade my house like this,” Tommy protested. “I might have had plans.”

The look Evan shot him was equal parts unimpressed and sardonic. “Do you?”

“Well, no. But still…” Tommy trailed off.

“Then go change out of your sweats and make yourself pretty. The rest of the guests will be here any minute.” Evan shooed him out of his kitchen and Tommy went, confused and off balance.

He walked to his bedroom on auto-pilot and grabbed a pair of jeans and a navy Henley from his drawers. He changed and wandered out of his bedroom to the sound of laughter and chatting.

Entering his living room he saw that Lucy and Nick had arrived to complete the party. He was glad that Nick was there, as the person he counted on to be in his corner, and Lucy as his closest co-worker. Even if she did know the 118 from before, they had bonded when she started at Harbor.

Nick was the only one there he could count on to be wholly his friend. They had met when Tommy was newly out and trying to navigate the intense dynamics of the LA gay scene. They’d met through Grindr and Nick had clocked him right away as being new. To his credit, instead of shutting him down, he’d offered to help. In a lot of ways, Tommy had Nick to thank for helping him bridge the gap between knowing who he was and acting on it.

He can see from Nick’s quirked eyebrow that he has questions about the whole situation they’ve landed themselves in and as the only person there who knows the full story from Tommy’s side he really wants to sidebar with him as soon as possible.

Nick, to his credit, heads straight for him, but he is distracted by Evan clapping his hands as soon as he sees Tommy entering the room.

“Alright everyone. Thanks for joining us for game night,” Evan shouted, even though everyone had fallen silent as soon as he clapped. “The first game for tonight is Never Have I Ever.”

There was a mix of groans and cheers from the group.Lucy looked too excited by the announcement and Tommy frowned at her.

“Everyone grab a beer and a shot glass and head into the living room.” Evan moved to the fridge to start distributing beers while the rest of the group picked up the snacks and left to get settled. Tommy waited until they were alone before going up to Evan.

“What are you trying to accomplish here?” Tommy asked, trying to sound stern but mostly sounding bewildered.

Evan looked at him and sighed. “After the Abby bombshell, I realized we had never really talked about our past relationships and experiences and we both might have some misconceptions about where the other is coming from.”

“And you thinking playing Never Have I Ever with our friends is going help with that?”

“Sure. They already know our deep dark secrets and most embarrassing stories and will keep us accountable.” Evan shrugged, like the prospect of admitting to the shit he’d gotten up in the past wasn’t terrifying.

Evan handed Tommy a can of his favorite IPA and grabbed a cider for himself. Shutting the fridge he reached down to circle Tommy’s wrist and tug him into the living room.

Tommy took his usual seat on the couch and Evan settled on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. The rest of the group was distributed around the room.

Evan started talking again. “If it’s been a few years since you played, here are the rules. Each person will give a statement and if you have done the thing, then you take a drink. If you haven’t then you don’t get to drink. For the first round, we’re doing shots, but after that you can choose a shot or a sip.”

Evan filled six shot glasses with tequila and passed them out. “I’ll start. Never have I ever broken up with someone I could actually see a future with.”

Evan’s eyes bored into him after that statement and Tommy had a decision to make. Was he going to be honest going into this game, or was he going to keep hiding things from everyone.

Fuck it. If Evan wanted to play, they would play. He took his shot, only wincing a little as the tequila went down. From the corner of his eye he noticed Nick and Hen also taking their shots. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one with a habit of blowing up his life.

Lucy chimed in next and from the wicked glance she threw at Even, he knew this one was targeted. “Never have I ever cheated on a partner.”

Once again, Hen took a shot. Evan and Eddie clinked their shot glasses together before throwing them back. Evan turned to glare at Lucy and gestured at her. She just laughed and said “I wasn’t the one cheating, so I don’t have to do shit.”

“Rude,” Evan said, pouting.

Tommy’s eyes darted between Evan and Lucy, his brow furrowed. Lucy laughed as she smacked Evan on the shoulder.

“You never told him about that night at the bar?” she teased.

Evan glanced down at his lap as he muttered “Not my finest moment.”

Nick, who mainly knew Tommy and tangentially knew Lucy from a few nights out at the clubs went next. “Never have I ever had a threesome.”

Lucy was the only one to drink and Evan laughed as she exclaimed “Really! You all are so boring.”

Hen’s entry was “Never have I ever made out with someone in this room,” and Evan, Lucy, Nick and Tommy had to drink. Tommy didn’t miss the way Evan’s eyes darted between him and Nick and then narrowed.

Eddie didn’t seem to understand the game, saying “Never have I ever knocked up my girlfriend,” before throwing back a shot.

Evan groaned. “Dude, you’re supposed to say things that other people have done.”

“But I wanted a shot,” Eddie whined back.

“Fine,” Evan rolled his eyes fondly.

And then it was Tommy’s turn. He’d been mulling over options as he watched his friends drink and joke, wondering how deep he wanted to go, what he really wanted to know about Evan’s past and what he wanted Evan to know about him.

He took a breath and then said “Never have I ever asked someone to move in with me.”

He watched as everyone but him took a shot, Eddie and Evan once again clinking their glasses together.

Evan grabbed the tequila bottle and refilled everyone’s glasses before he spoke up.

“Never have I ever lived with a romantic partner.” Everyone drank to that, and Evan seemed to relax a bit.

The game continued and Tommy lost track of who was asking what as he took his shots.

At one point Eddie grinned at Evan as he said “Never have I ever flirted with someone with the initials TK” and then made Evan take 3 shots.

Nick contributed “Never have I ever hooked up in a public bathroom,” and looked around in surprise when everyone else took a shot. “Eddie, I thought you’d be with me on this.”

Eddie shrugged even though he was blushing. “Shannon and I had a sneaking around phase,” he said.

“Y’all are nasty,” Nick said, throwing himself back in his seat.

When it was Tommy’s turn again he said, “Never have I ever been dumped.”

He sat back and watched as the rest of the room drank. Evan gave him a speculative look as he took his shot.

Then Hen chimed in with “Never have I ever stolen an LAFD vehicle to hook up,” and Evan protested “I didn’t steal the engine, I just borrowed it” before he took his shot.

Tommy took his shot too, and ignoring the looks from Eddie and Hen. “It wasn’t a 118 vehicle,” he clarified.

Lucy groaned and threw a waded up napkin at him. He met Evan’s eyes and quirked his eyebrow and they both started laughing. Which devolved into Eddie, Hen and Lucy throwing chips at the both of them as they ducked their heads.

All in all, it was fun and silly and nothing that Tommy deserved after dumping Evan.

It also left him wondering just how much he had missed or misread about their relationship. It was obvious that they hadn’t ever really talked about their experiences before, both of them trying so hard to be perfect for the other that they let all the buried trauma stay buried.

Until the trauma exploded into Tommy getting scared and pushing Evan away, telling himself it was for the best. Breaking his own heart before Evan could break it for him, like he always did.

He sat back and let the conversation wash over him as the game fizzled out and everyone started trying to one up each other with crazy sex stories. He was pleasantly buzzed and had some stories he could contribute but for now he wanted to soak in the atmosphere.

This was not at all how he envisioned this night going when he woke up alone in his bed. Evan was flushed and laughing, his friends were around him and he felt hope fluttering in his chest. No one had ever come back before.

[unhingedangstaddict]

WIP Wednesday!! Got tagged by the incredible @quintessenceofdust88 and @typicalopposite

Here's some more of my bucktommy mpreg fic All Of You, All Of Me (Intertwined)

Tommy felt nervous but also a bit angry at himself and at Evan as he walked into the 118. The first person he saw was Eddie.

“Cap’s in his office doing paperwork. Buck’s upstairs. Hen and Chim are up there too.” Eddie told him. “How ya feeling?”

“I'd rather not try and get into it all right now. Thanks for your help Eddie.” Tommy said sincerely and headed up the stairs. Sure enough, Evan was sitting at the end of the table closest to the couch, reading something on his phone. Hen was at the opposite end of the table reading a book, and Howie was on one of the couches on his phone.

Evan looked up and saw Tommy. He put his phone down and stood. “You came to my work?” Evan sounded pissed.

“I told you, we need to talk.” Tommy insisted.

“I’m not interested in whatever it is you have to say, so please leave and stop calling and texting.” Evan crossed his arms.

“Evan, please.” Tommy pleaded. He could feel Hen and Howie's eyes on them, watching but not saying anything.

“Don’t.” Evan’s tone had a sharp edge. “I said it before, and I won’t say it again. You need to leave. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to hear whatever it is you have to say. I waited months hoping to hear from you. I saw you bubbling me and yet you never reached out, Tommy. It's been almost five months. I got tired of waiting. I'm not interested anymore. You had your chance, you lost it, and you need to let it go. It's actually really shitty of you to show up like this after I have made it clear I don't want to talk.”

“I get that, I do. But you need to hear me out, please,” Tommy pleaded.

Chimney stood and walked over, almost putting himself between Tommy and Evan. “Tommy, man, you know I love you but I think it's time for you to go.”

“Evan I get it, trust me, I wouldn't want to hear from me either. But you need to hear what I have to say.” Tommy stressed.

Evan scoffed. “Fine. Say it. Say whatever the hell it is that's apparently so damn important, then Get. Out.”

It wasn’t how Tommy wanted to do it, but he had no choice now. Not to mention that he was honestly a bit hurt that Evan thought so little of Tommy that he assumed Tommy would so vehemently ignore a clearly set boundary without extremely good reason to do so. Tommy snapped. “I’m pregnant with your kid, asshole.” Tommy grabbed a sonogram photo from his pocket and tossed it in Evan’s direction, then headed for the stairs. “It’s a girl, by the way.” He added, and continued down the stairs, doing what Evan asked of him, and leaving.

No pressure tags for @ladyeyrewrites @desert--moonchild @sunnywithachanceofbi

[exhuastedpigeon]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

It has been a minute since I had something to share in a wip tag game and uhh... this isn't any of my fandoms or ships. Please enjoy this snippet from the Hangster hockey AU I'm currently working on...

“Just checking. You could have a hot date or something,” Bradshaw says with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle. “Pretty sure the entire league has heard about the prowess of Jake Seresin.”

Jake’s glad he’s still flushed from their workout, because it might just hide his blush. He doesn’t even know why he’s blushing - it’s an objective fact that he’s good in bed and that he’s got no qualms about casual sex. He doesn’t really date though - hates the way he can’t trust if someone wants to be with him because of him or because he’s a professional athlete. Hockey players may be pretty far down the pecking order of professional athletes in America, but in his third season in the league he’d dated someone for a few months, until he’d found out she was with him for the exposure - he hadn’t dated since. 

It was safer to not date. Safer to stick to casual hookups followed by NDAs. Safer to smile and be Jake “Hangman” Seresin, Sharks Captain, than to just be Jake. 

He rolls his eyes at Bradshaw and then grins, “All the rumors are true.”

“So you’ve had the clap four times?”

“Not that rumor. I always wrap it,” Jake gets into his car. “So beach tomorrow?”

“Sure, yeah,” Bradshaw nods and gets into his ridiculous Bronco. “I’ll drive.”

“Like hell!”

“Pick you up at 10.”

“What if I wanted to go earlier?”

“Do you?” When Jake doesn’t respond Bradshaw laughs, “that’s what I thought. See you tomorrow, Seresin.”

tagged by @tizniz @dangerpronebuddie @eddiebabygirldiaz @honestlydarkprincess @spotsandsocks

no pressure tagging @inell @rosieposiepuddingnpie @thekristen999 @spagheddiediaz @queerdiazs

@daffi-990 @hawkbutt @diazheartsbuckley @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns

@vanmarkus @lonelychicago @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @cal-daisies-and-briars @monsterrae1 and anyone who wants to share!

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag, @carlos-in-glasses @nisbanisba @heartstringsduet @carlossreaders 💝

This is from my upcoming TK's birthday fic, "The December Baby"

“TK! TK!” Jonah exclaimed, like TK was halfway down the block and not holding Jonah in his arms. “Sit with me!” He hit TK’s shoulders with both hands. “TK! Sit with me! Sit with me TK!”

“Jonah, easy,” Enzo said, reaching over and taking one of his son’s hands. “Jonah Frederick. Soft touches. And what do we say when we want something?”

“Daddy,” Jonah whined.

“Jo-nah,” Enzo said, imitating his son’s tone. “What’s our magic word? Can you show TK and Carlos your good manners?”

“We want to see them,” Carlos added. “We’re very big on manners in Texas”.

Jonah gave the biggest sigh at the utter inconvenience of having to use manners before he started stroking TK’s face. “Pwease!” Jonah exclaimed. “TK sit me with pwease!”

“I would love to sit with you, Jonah,” TK smiled as he opened the back door to the car. “And what good asking that was!”

“TK, you want help with the carseat?” Enzo asked as TK loaded Jonah into the backseat.

“I can figure it out I think” TK grunted. “Which does… ow!” He ducked out of the back seat and moved to let Enzo adjust the straps, shaking his hand with the bright red finger he pinched.  “Yeah, I should have let you do it”.

“It’s okay,” Enzo said as he buckled Jonah in. “It’s a learning curve”.

“Let me see that”. Carlos said, taking TK’s right hand and kissing his red thumb.

“Thank you baby,” TK smiled, kissing Carlos’s cheek before he joined his little brother in the backseat of the car.

“TK got owie?” Jonah asked when TK slid in next to him.

“Just a little one,” TK shook his head with a smile. “It’s okay”.

“I make it better?” Jonah asked. TK smiled and scooted close enough so Jonah could kiss his hand. “Jonah, you did it!” TK exclaimed. “Now it doesn’t hurt anymore!”

“Jonah, you keeping an eye on your brother?” Enzo asked as Carlos got in the passenger seat.

“Okay, Daddy,” Jonah nodded, taking this job seriously as he started chattering away to TK.

“Enzo, I gotta say,” Carlos said as they started to make their way out of airport parking, “Jonah talks really well. Both of my sisters have three kids each, and I don’t remember anyone speaking in sentences when they had just turned two”.

“Thank you,” Enzo said, his eyes twinkling over his half-moon glasses. “He's definitely a chatterbox. Truthfully, I can’t take too much credit. The boys’ mother, before she…” He cleared his throat. “When she was still here, right after Jonah was born, and we were shuttling him between our houses. She told me to make sure I was talking to him as much as I could; that it would help his verbal skills develop”.

“Huh”. Carlos nodded. “Was it just baby talk?”

“Not exclusively,” Enzo said as they waited to turn right. “Some of it was, but Gwyn had told me it was most important to be talking directly to him. Which, after we lost her,” he sighed, “was a lot of this shouldn’t have happened, I can’t do this, is there precedent to get delivery bikes banned from the city altogether. But it seems to have paid off,” he added, looking in the rearview mirror, where TK was nodding as Jonah told him a story. “I have him in daycare twice a week now, and whenever I pick him up, the teachers always tell me he’s coming for their job; he always wants to greet and say hi to anyone who comes in the room”.

No pressure tagging - I tag @anewkindofme @laneybishop89 @nancys-braids @kiankiwi @firstprince-history-huh @the-flaming-nightmare @eclectic-sassycoweyes and anyone else who wants to do it - open tag 🫶

[angelasscribbles]

Changes: A ONiC One-Shot

Series: One Night in Cordonia, a @choicesprompts Round Robin Event.

Fandom: TRR mostly

CRACKSHIP ALERT: Drake x Bertrand

Word Count: 1,593

Rating: NSFW

Warnings: Lemons 🍋🍋🍋

A/N: This pairing was initiated by @harleybeaumont during the round robin event titled One Night in Cordonia. I cannot remember who requested it or if it's something @harleybeaumont and I thought up during one of our epic late night discussions. Either way, it somehow got brought up today and I went to send her the little bit of it that has been sitting in my WiP folder forever, but once I opened the Word doc, I decided to add a few quick details and then just kept going until it was finished. 🙃

This was not the writing project I had intended to work on today, but I don't get to choose where the inspiration strikes.

It's pure smut. Just so you know.

The rest of my stuff can be found here.

Bertrand stood in the Beaumont study, surveying the damage and contemplating the last several weeks.

The terrorist group responsible for the attack had been rounded up, and the authorities had finally left. He was happy to reclaim his study from Bastien. They had left the room in disarray, and he set about tidying it up.

He was kneeling on the floor, examining a discolored spot on the carpet and muttering about the King's Guard's complete lack of decorum with the door to the study opened. Whoever it was hadn't even bothered to knock.

Bertrand leapt to his feet with indignation, "This is a private room! Have you no manners?"

An amused voice answered him. "No need to get up on my account."

Bertrand paled and took a step back as Drake ambled into the room like he owned the place. Shutting the door behind him, he ignored Bertrand's outburst about manners and smirked at him. "I like the way you look on your knees."

"I…don't know what you're trying to imply—"

"What?" Amusement danced across his face as he took in the other man's discomfort. "Have you forgotten the last time you were on your knees in front of me?"

The lord of Ramsford flushed from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. Burning with shame and, distressingly, desire, he stuttered out an answer. "I…. Of course not! I mean…. That's not what I—"

Drake took a step toward him with a smirk. "You were really good at it."

"I…that…." Bertrand took another step back, bumping into a bookshelf and sending a miniature statue of a horse crashing to the ground.

Drake continued his advance until he stood directly in front of the duke, blocking any chance of a dignified retreat. "Why are you so nervous?"

"I'm not!" Bertrand gulped loudly, belying his statement.

"No?" The bigger man shifted his weight slightly as he rested a hand on either side of his intended target.

Bertrand's eyes widened as shock, fear, and undeniable excitement flooded through him. He didn't trust his voice, so he simply shook his head.

A soft scoff issued from Drake as his eyes traced his face, settling on the set of lips that had brought him so much pleasure just a few weeks before.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

It was true that they had both been under the influence of some type of chemical that removed sexual inhibitions, but the fact remained that those impulses had to exist in the first place in order to be inhibited.

His disdain for Max's older brother had always masked a deeper emotion. Sexual attraction to other men wasn't new to him, but the realization that he had always been drawn to this particular man was.

"Tell me you don't want this." Drake's hand caressed Bertrand's cheek. "If you don't want me to kiss you right now, tell me to stop." He paused, giving the other man plenty of time to protest.

For a heartbeat, they stood frozen in time, face to face, staring into each other's eyes. Then Bertrand went weak in the knees as his eyes fluttered shut and his head tipped slightly up, lips parted, inviting the kiss.  

Drake's lips crashed into his and he was falling, tumbling into a vast unknown, terror and exhilaration colliding inside him.

Bertrand Beaumont had never been good with women. He didn't understand what they wanted, he didn't understand how to attract them. He had never felt much of a pull to them at all. But this. This was different.

He had kissed a handful of women in his time. Their lips had been soft and yielding and the entire experience had been somehow wrong and off putting. His previous experiences with kissing had been nothing like this. This kiss was rough and demanding, the stubble that scratched his face sent red hot flames licking through him. His hands reached out to grasp not soft flesh, but hard muscles. He whimpered helplessly as his body reacted. His rock hard erection was evident as Drake's body pushed into his.

He wanted to die of shame until he realized that Drake was having the exact same reaction. Their cocks pressed against each other through the fabric of their pants as their hips ground against each other.

Bertrand had never felt another man's cock pressed against his own before, much less while it was hard. The thought that Drake was hard because of him was almost more than he could bear. Desire burned all the embarrassment out of him as he begged for more. "Please… I need—"

Before he could finish the thought, strong hands spun him around and jerked him sidewise away from the bookshelf, and pressed him against the wall. His pants were yanked down his body, leaving his ass bare and his dick throbbing. A foot forced his legs apart as a finger found his puckered hole. His mind was so clouded with lust that he barely registered some sort of lube being applied before a finger probed inside him. Warm breath tickled his ear as a voice rough with desire whispered in his ear. "How does that feel?"

"So good…" he gasped out as an ecstasy he had never imagined washed over him.

A soft kiss landed on the back of his neck. "I'm going to fuck you now. Hold still."

Bertrand's eyes squeezed shut as his body vibrated with pleasure and anticipation. "Yes…. Please…."

A feral growl broke free from Drake's throat at the pleading tone of the man trembling under his touch. It was all he could do to keep himself from slamming into him. Instead, he inserted himself slowly and gently, sliding in an inch at a time, giving the other man a chance to adjust.

A cry of ecstasy was torn from him as Drake hit the prostate.

His name falling from Bertrand's lips was the end of his restraint. No longer gentle, he moved his body at a more desperate pace, pulling himself out and shoving back into the man who was now writhing frantically beneath him.

Bertrand's feet tried to come out from under him as all the strength left his body. Blackness clouded the edges of his vision as the pleasure became all encompassing. A hand closed around his cock and stars exploded across his field of vision as the orgasm overtook him.

Drake slammed into him one last time with a roar, pinning his body to the wall as he emptied himself into him. He kept his body pressed into him until his cock finished pulsing.

When he finally stepped away, Bertrand was left with his pants in an undignified tangle around his ankles, a pleasurable soreness and the proof of what had just transpired leaking out of him. He turned to face the man who had just taken his innocence and awakened desires in him that he had not known he possessed, tripping over his tangled pants as he did so.

"Whoa there!" Drake caught him and then stepped back with a satisfied smirk as he fastened his own pants.

Hyperaware of Drake's eyes on him, he scrambled to redress himself, ignoring the sticky mess on his backside. Not knowing what to say, his eyes dropped to the floor as both mortification and gratification pinged through him at what had just transpired.

"Hey." Drake's finger found his chin and lifted his head. With a smile more tender than he had ever seen on his face, he told him, "You did great."

The mortification drained out of him, pride and happiness taking its place. "Really?"

"Really." He looked closer at Bertrand's expression. "Wait. Was that your first time with a man?"

Bertrand's eyes fell once again to the floor. "My first time….with anyone." Kissing women had been bad enough, he had never been able to push himself further with any of them.

Drake's eyes widened in surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't know—"

"What?" Bertrand's head snapped up in alarm at the regret in Drake's voice. "Don't be sorry! That was…. It was… you were…. I mean…"

The smile returned to Drake's face as understanding dawned on him. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything else. I'm glad you liked it."

The alarm on Bertrand's phone went off, bringing him back to reality. "Apologies. I'm needed at a budgetary meeting soon."

"No problem. I have shit to do, too. See you around."

Panic sliced through him as he watched Drake make it to the door. "Wait!"

Drake paused and turned around. "Yeah?"

Bertrand fought against the tidal wave of insecurity and anxiety that threatened to silence him. For once in his life, he was going to ask for what he wanted. "Is there any chance we could… um…. " He faltered as embarrassment threatened to pull him under.

A grin pulled Drake's lips up as he watched Bertrand stumble over his words. He decided to put him out of his misery. "Are you asking if we can do this again?"

"Yeah." If he said no, Bertrand was going to drop right through the floor.

"You can count on it." Drake thumped the edge of the door frame on his way out, humming happily as he strolled down the hall.

Bertrand slumped against the wall as relief and disbelief surged through him.

He had no idea what this all meant. No idea what tomorrow would bring. There was only one thing that he knew for certain.

Everything was going to be different now.

[ladytanithia]

WIP whenever tf

I've had practically nothing in progress writing-wise in ages. Lost my mojo. But I'm trying to get back into a groove. Not happy with how I've done BLP so far, so I'm rewriting it, from the beginning, and incorporating Miranja's journal into it.

However, this scene from Out of the Ashes came up in a conversation the other day, and OotA technically still counts as a WIP, since it's not finished (dammit - NONE of the parts of Miranja's story is truly finished!). So I figured what the hell. It's been a long time since I had any writing to share, and this is one of the best scenes to really show how Miranja's mind works. Not even any sex here. <gasp!>

Tagging friends whose writing I've been enjoying whilst not producing anything myself. @dirty-bosmer @lillxart @mareenavee @skyrim-forever @thequeenofthewinter @theoneandonlysemla I hope you enjoy it.

It was just about eight o’clock in the evening when they arrived back in Solitude. Before doing anything else, Miranja went directly to Castle Dour.

Tullius was sitting on the bench in the corner by the enchanting table in the foyer. Miranja had gone straight to the war room looking for him, hadn’t found him, had checked his bedroom, still hadn’t found him, and had backtracked to the front door before he finally spoke to her and drew her attention.

“Looking for me, Auxiliary?”

Surprised, Miranja turned toward the sound of his voice and approached him.

“Yes, sir. Here’s the Jagged Crown. Legate Rikke sent me to deliver it to you.” She handed over the Crown, and Tullius took it and turned it in his hands, examining it with interest as he replied.

“Excellent work, soldier. I have to admit, I had my doubts it even existed. Did you run into any trouble?”

Tears filled Miranja’s eyes, but she kept a stiff upper lip. Teldryn’s hand in the middle of her back certainly helped give her fortitude.

“We lost a lot of good men. I hope it was worth it.” Tullius didn’t need to know that she was also talking about the Stormcloaks who died.

“That’s not for you to decide, soldier. I wouldn’t have sent you in the first place if it wasn’t going to be worth it.”

Miranja’s pride stung at those words, while at the same time, her sense of justice was offended. She was the gods-damned Dragonborn, as well as a Thane in this hold, and she had become largely unaccustomed to people talking down to her. And in her opinion, this stupid war wasn’t worth the loss of ANY people, if you got right down to brass tacks. No one should be dying over what she felt was a deeply personal religious issue. It was tantamount in her mind to killing people for what they did in their own bedrooms.

“You seem to forget who you’re speaking to, General. May I be candid with you, sir?”

“By all means, Auxiliary. Let’s hear it.” There was a challenge in his voice and in the way he jutted out his chin.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t like you very much.”

“Well, that’s fine,” Tullius replied indifferently. He rose and brushed past her to carry the crown into the war room. “I’m not here to win popularity contests. I’m here to keep the Dominion out of Skyrim, and to quell this dissention.”

Miranja followed him, and Teldryn tagged along quietly behind her. “The Dominion is already in Skyrim, whether you want to admit it or not. I pass Thalmor on the road every day taking Stormcloak prisoners to gods-know-where to do gods-know-what to them. The only reason I don’t kill them is that I don’t want a bounty on my own head.”

“Wise choice,” Tullius acknowledged briefly, but added, “Think what you want, Auxiliary. It could be much worse.”

“I’m sure it could. I just want you to know that I think you’re a cold, insensitive…” She hesitated for a moment, searching for a milder word than ‘asshole.’ “…jerk. I wonder if you have a compassionate bone in your body, and if you really care about the people of Skyrim at all.”

Tullius’ face darkened with anger. “Listen up, Auxiliary. I’m here to do a job. Not that it’s any of your damned business, but I have family back in Cyrodiil who I love and miss terribly. I’ve been in Skyrim longer than I ever wanted to be. I’m doing what I’m paid to do, what I believe is for the greater good in the long run. I hope that’s also what you’re doing, why you joined the Legion in the first place.”

“Of course it is,” Miranja glowered back. “But I’d like to think I’m going about it in a more personal, compassionate way. I’m not sitting in a fancy castle ordering everyone else around. I’m on the ground, learning about the people and helping them in more ways than just killing Stormcloaks and getting Imperial soldiers killed.”

“Well, good for you,” Tullius replied with overt sarcasm. “Imperial Generals don’t have that luxury. I didn’t get to my station in life by being compassionate.”

“That may be so, General, but it’s obvious you’re not particularly happy. And there’s no reason to take it out on others. You chose your path.”

“And you chose yours when you joined the Legion, Auxiliary. You can either follow orders or take up residence in the Solitude prison. Which will it be?���

She was sick of being addressed as a title. “My name is Miranja. Miranja Laurentius. And I will follow orders, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“You’re absolutely right, Miranja. We all have to do things we don’t like to bring about things we do like.” He stopped and regarded her with a scrutinizing look, as Miranja stared back with some surprise at his unknowing echoing of her father’s words.

“You said your name was Laurentius?”

“Yes.” She didn’t bother with the ‘sir.’

“Your father was in the Legion, wasn’t he?”

“Yes… sir.” Where was he going with this?

“Ah, yes, I see the resemblance now. I worked with your father briefly in Hammerfell some twenty-five years or more ago. I remember him because he had the same bleeding heart and lack of respect that you do.”

“I’m proud of my father and his work for the underprivileged,” Miranja said, jutting out her chin as Tullius had earlier. “And both my father and I give respect where it’s due. We just feel morally compelled to point out injustice regardless of who’s perpetrating it, and that includes the Empire.”

“Well, his soft heart is what kept him from advancing past Captain. He could have been a general himself, if he’d been tougher.”

“My father and I don’t measure success by titles and wealth. We measure our riches and our station in life by the happiness we create and the love we give and receive. My father retired a happy, peaceful man, and he’s still bringing joy to those around him and earning respect for his deeds.”

“Well, that’s a heartwarming story, Auxiliary, and your opinions are duly noted, but it’s time we got back to business.”

Miranja heaved a resigned sigh and closed her eyes for a moment, then spoke tiredly. “Very well, sir. What’s next?”

“I need someone I can trust to deliver a message of great import to Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We have it on good authority that Ulfric has raised enough men to attack the city of Whiterun. The Jarl, however, refuses the Legion’s support. This missive should convince him. Be aware, soldier, these documents contain sensitive intelligence for the Jarl’s eyes only.”

Yes, yes, she’d overheard the conversation between Rikke and Tullius when she’d first walked into Castle Dour yesterday. “Of course, General. We may not see eye-to-eye, but we are on the same side, and you can trust me. Balgruuf was one of my first friends when I came to Skyrim. I’ll see this gets delivered.”

“You do that,” Tullius replied, eyeing her thoughtfully. “You’re dismissed.”

Once they were outside, Tel whistled – or tried to, and only partially succeeded with the scarf over his face – and shook his head. “Damn, woman, I can’t believe you spoke to a General like that and didn’t end up in the stockade.”

“Speaking your mind isn’t a crime, Tel, and I didn’t disobey any orders. I asked him for permission to be candid, and I also made sure to include ‘with all due respect.’ My father taught me that. I know when I’m within my rights.”

Teldryn chuckled. “I like a woman with cast iron balls. I bet your dick is bigger than his.”

Miranja grinned and blushed with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. They were still standing between the door guards, and there was no way the guards hadn’t heard the whole conversation, but they were wisely keeping their mouths shut. She knew the barracks would be abuzz later, though.

“So, what are we going to do with the rest of the evening, boss?”

[discordantwords]

Thank you so much for the tag @therealsaintscully!

How many works do you have on ao3? 48! 30 for BBC Sherlock and 18 for The X-Files.

What’s your total word count? 924,659 (whoa, that's a lot of words)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? (Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea White Knight Incidents with Dogs, Curious and Otherwise Another Auld Lang Syne The Dead Detective

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I try to. I'm not always as on top of it as I intend to be. I find comments tremendously meaningful and I at times get emotional while reading them. They are important to me. I reread them often.

I often fear that I'm a poor conversationalist and overthink my responses, which can tend to freeze me up.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Most of my long fics have happy endings.

The Pillar upon Which England Rests is my ode to Mrs. Hudson. As she and John are grieving Sherlock's fall, she tells John all about how she and Sherlock first met. I don't think of it as a particularly sad story, but I suppose that ending counts as angsty, as Sherlock's eventual return is not addressed in the story.

I guess the shorter, more horrorish ones have angsty (or at least uneasy) endings.

Nothing Happened in Belarus has S4 Sherlock, in the throes of his breakdown, somehow briefly traveling through time and encountering S1 John, who cares for him. It's a brief reprieve for him in the midst of a personal hell, but there is no resolution. When he returns to his own time, he is still forced to face what's coming next.

At the end of Leaves, Sherlock and John have either successfully defeated the bloodthirsty plant that has invaded their flat, or they're being digested by it. I leave that decision up to the reader. :)

The Web has Sherlock returned from his time away and reunited with John, but there is a part of him that will always remain haunted and deeply paranoid.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Most of them, heh. I like to leave my characters in a good place after putting them through hell.

I guess I'd have to say White Knight? I still get a little giddy when I think about the way Sherlock proposes at the end of that one, and how happy and free they both are after the crushing weight of misunderstandings and grief has fallen away.

Whirlwind has a pretty joyful ending, too.

Do you write crossovers?

I haven't written a crossover, but I have done a few fusion fics. The Dead Detective is a fusion with Jumpin' Jack Flash. Whirlwind is a fusion with Twister. Out There is a fusion with The X-Files.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really. Most responses on AO3 have been warm and supportive. I have gotten a few unnecessarily vicious comments on some of my ficlets here on Tumblr, but I do my best to ignore those.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Most of my smut tends to be of the R-rated variety, because I'm frankly just not very good at writing it.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes, sort of, but I don't believe it was done maliciously and I don't intend to call attention to it.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not. I'm open to the idea, but I honestly don't know if I'm cut out for it. I think my tendency to wing things and my utter lack of a consistent writing schedule would drive a potential writing partner mad.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

Mulder and Scully were my first true fandom love. I love Sherlock and John equally as much, if not more.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

There are quite a few WIPs on my hard drive that may never see the light of day. As far as posted fics, my Sherlock/Knight Rider fusion probably won't be finished.

What are your writing strengths?

I like to think that I'm pretty good at capturing character mannerisms, and writing from a perspective that lets the reader feel what the POV character is feeling.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm not all that impressed with my smut writing abilities.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I steer clear of it. Although Google translate can be helpful, IMO there are too many opportunities to make embarrassing or inadvertently offensive mistakes.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The X-Files

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I really enjoy the character dynamics between Hannibal/Will in Hannibal and Lestat/Louis in Interview with the Vampire. I think I'd have a harder time getting into their heads than I do with Sherlock and John, so I'll probably just continue admiring them from afar for now.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

This is such a hard question! I'm probably proudest of the work that went into Out There, but I have a huge soft spot for The Pillar upon Which England Rests and (Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea.

If anyone out there would like to share your thoughts on some of the things you've written, please do! I'll also tag @thetimemoves @arwamachine @raina-at @vulpesmellifera @iheardyou @totallysilvergirl @khorazir

[therealsaintscully]

Thank you for the tag, lovely @crepesuzette2023! It's been nice to take some time to think about my fics!

How many works do you have on ao3?

20; 18 are Johnlock (BBC) and two, the most recent ones, are mclennon.

What’s your total word count?

306,378 (I was stunned to see this, I had no idea).

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All are Johnlock: Mark Your Calendars, my beloved Erosion, Detours, Plus One and Turned - Part I : Queen and Country.

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I try to be very good about it and respond as often as I can, but the truth is I'm a bit of an emotional wreck so when there's a rush of comments I get overwhelmed and over emotional about them, and tend to put it off for a while. I read them ALL, and I often go back and re-read them.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I had to refresh my memory but it's def Every Other Universe ("What if in every other universe John Watson leaves?"). It's one of my very earliest ones and I cringe a little reading it, but it's a very neat idea. Gretna Green Waltz, a mclennon fic, is very devastating if I may say so myself, and was written as such knowingly. It only reflects reality, though, and that's just as devastating.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

I think Mark Your Calendars has the happiest ending, judging by the numbers of kudos, but for me as the writer, the cosiest, most joy-bringing ending was that of Simon (or: Love Calls You by Your Name).

Do you write crossovers?

The sadly abandoned Turned series is a crossover with Homeland.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not hate, but some less-than-considerate "when's the next chapter???" comments. I don't bother with them.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes I do :)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Don't think so!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I remember being asked, but I'm not sure what happened with it! Some of my fics got podficced, though: Mark Your Calendars is available as podfic, and so is I Have not Lingered (thanks to the lovely @helloliriels)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I'm so neurotic and particular I don't think I'm cut out for that.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

Mulder and Scully are DEFINITELY the mothership and always will be. I still sigh about them in a special, exasperated way about three times a week. I'm still here with Johnlock of course, but I'm pretty sure mclennon has been in the back of my mind for decades, but I was too haunted by other ships to fall down that rabbit hole. Look at me, though, here I am.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Turned, very sadly. So much so that I've considered taking it off AO3 but I'm so proud of what I did achieve with it.

What are your writing strengths?

I think my best writing moments are the ones that hook unto my real, personal experiences, not just a general idea of life situations. Erosion is based on my own personal grief and family losses, and Gretna Green Waltz is a retelling of my biggest heartache. I have noticed readers can tell when you're really putting your heart into a story.

What are your writing weaknesses?

English isn't my first language, which means I have to rely on betas which for me sadly slows me down - I want to be able to just write them and post them otherwise I overthink. I'm also a screenwriter irl, and I noticed a pattern that is another weakness - I always have banger openings, or first acts to my stories/screenplays, but sometimes I don't know the ending and I get lost and hesitant. That's why Gretna Green Waltz was SUCH a surprise - much like Junk, the song that haunts Paul throughout the fic, came to him in one piece, GGW landed in my head as a full story. I wrote it in TWO WEEKS! That NEVER happened before!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

It really depends on how it's done. If it's 2-3 sentences and they're simple I assume the readers will Google Translate it. Jinglebell stands out as someone who did it really well in multi-chapter fic that's all about Sherlock discovering that John is a polyglot, so it can be done well.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Johnlock (for which I started writing during covid in 2020), although as a reader it was TXF, back in in 90s and early 2000s.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

The X-Files. I've had a Scully character study in my head for years that I just can't get right.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

With Johnlock it would have to be the now-abandoned Turned, and mclennon it would be Gretna Green Waltz. I am very proud of both.

Tagging @menlove, @discordantwords, @saint-mona, @totallysilvergirl @m1ssunderstanding @slippinmickeys @kettykika78 @agrlsname @arwamachine @calaisreno @aggressivewhenstartled and anyone who sees this who wants to participate :)

[ichistrash]

wip of mermaid mafuyu and starboy tsukasa lol

I rly hate posting full body wips like this bc i cant get anatomy right if I don't draw all the slight muscles and crease of the skin and shit, and it makes them look NAKED but i swearrrr I'm just doing it to not make the anatomy look like shit. I've got too much perv accusations thrown when I show off my full body wips of stuff lol Anyway, this feels almost blasphemous to their characters? Though i love Mafuyu and Tsukasa, I don't rly know em like that, you know? I'm not committed to pjsk like I am w Shining/Love Nikki (never no.6 above superficial appearance changing aus, i am not worthy) so whenever I make up aus of characters/ships that are based off of their stories/personality/situation, I feel like a horrible, deplorable fraud. Mainly cause I cannot STAND it when ppl misinterpret/misunderstand the characters I love and their stories, or when they write shit half-hardheartedly, not even looking into wikis or doing simple deep dives. So the thought of doing it to others actually terrify me to my core LMAO. But i rly had a strong view of this au in my head, and i just drew it out. and i really like it! Idk, it looks a lot more boring than what i see in my head, but I'm just bad at perspective and foreshortening, plus, they got not no flowy clothes to dramatize the scene, nor actual scene composition, so yuh lol. Anyway, this will probably remain a wip for the foreseeable future, as i am DEEPLY disturbed by the thought of creating this fully only to realize later on that 'oh my god, this dynamic is ALL WRONG'. its a cute drawing tho!

[violetfairydust]

WIP Whenever

Thank you to the lovely @endwersed for tagging me! I'm really excited about ghost whispering Stiles, so here's a conversation between him and Laura.

-

The darkness swallowed the world leaving the only sight in front of Stiles the chill of his breath. He swung the bat back and forth while he waited for hopefully nothing. The preserve was asleep. He stood with the soles of his shoes glued to the ground. He shouldn’t have been left alone. He may have been in the safest corner of the woods, but if it was just him and his bat he couldn’t protect himself from the coven. Being stationed at one of the higher points made him the watchtower.

“Useless, isn’t it?” Laura said.

“Having me here?”

“Vampires are just as fast as werewolves, if not faster. You won’t be able to see them move. And that bat won’t stop one.”

“And why are you here? To keep me company?”

“I have a... special type of sight, too, you know. It’s lighter on this side. It may be two in the morning for you, but for me, it’s dusk.”

He scoffed. “You’re here to protect me?”

“I can see things you can’t.”

“That’s pretty laughable when you’re saying that to the ghost whisperer.”

She leaned against the trunk behind Stiles. He only turned when a branch snapped under her boot.

“I wanted to ask you some questions.” Her eyes followed the trail to the right, checking for unwanted guests. “I’ve never met anyone who can actually see us. The number of people who call themselves ghost hunters who come traipsing into our house with their recorders and cameras can’t.”

“You don’t show yourselves to Zak Bagans?”

She cracked a smile. “Sometimes I knock things over, blow cold air, but you’ll never catch me on camera. That’s Aurora. And I thought I was asking you questions? How did you get it? There are only rumors of people like you.”

“It’s genetic. We call it the Sight. My mom’s mom had it and her grandmother and her grandfather.” He shrugged. “It just happened.”

“Does your dad know?”

Stiles scoffed again. “Yeah, no. There’s no fucking way he’d believe it. He’d have me committed. I’ve never had a reason to tell him, and it doesn’t affect him, so it doesn’t matter. I don’t really want him to know. I don’t want him to look at me differently.”

Laura nodded. Relief prickled in his chest she wasn’t going to press it.

“How many of us do you see in a day?”

“At school? Dozens. Just around town? Hundreds.” Stiles shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Do we look different?”

“There’s a... a kind of... faintness about you. It’s like you’re muted. I can’t see through you, but you’re not in full color, either. It’s like a faded picture or something.”

“Huh.”

The questions stopped. Too many sprouted in his mind to pick one to ask. What was the other side like? Was there even one? Did she see a white light when she died? Was her family there to greet her? How did she see him? How could she tell he had the Sight?

Her breath came out fast. Her eyes were locked on something in the distance. The lines in her forehead deepened. When Stiles looked in that direction, he couldn’t see anything but darkness. It was darker than it should have been, darker than the rest of the woods.

“Stiles,” she breathed tightly, “hide.”

-

I'm not sure who has and hasn't been tagged, but I tag you if you want to have a go!

[justanothersanjilover]

One Piece Modern Gym AU Wip (Part 20)

After they went through the whole aquarium twice, Zoro’s stomach started to grumble. Sanji looked at him almost angry.

“Why didn't you say that you’re hungry?”

“I’m not that hungry, Curly.”

“I can hear that!”

Sanji took his hand and dragged him behind toward the restaurant at the top of the aquarium.

“Seriously, I’m not that hungry. We can go another round if you want.”

“No! Your stomach grumbled, so you are hungry and I won't let anyone I know and care about walk around like that!”

Zoro shut his mouth and stared at the back of Sanji’s head. He knew that reaction and he instantly felt bad for him.

“Sorry…”

“What?” Sanji turned slightly but didn't stop walking.

“I said sorry. Next time, I’ll tell you. I didn't want to make you mad or something.”

Sanji looked at him as if he had seen a ghost. Then his gaze softened and he shook his head.

“I’m not mad…I…just don't like it when someone is starving, that’s all.”

Zoro nodded, brushing his thumb over Sanji’s hand. He wanted to ask, wanted to know why Sanji was reacting like that. Part of him already knew…or at least had an idea why. Starving…actually starving was horrible. He went a few days without food when he was a kid and it was the worst! But this was neither the time nor the place to ask such a question and so he dropped it - or rather put it in the box with the other questions he wanted to ask but didn't dare yet.

Shortly after this little conversation, they reached the lift but it was out of order. Sanji cursed and kicked against the wall.

“You good?” Zoro asked, watching him.

“Yeah…I just hoped we could take the lift and don’t have to walk up the stairs. The elevator is made of glass and you can see some of the aquariums through it and on the other side you can watch the city. It’s really cool…”

Zoro smiled at him because Sanji almost looked like a pouting kid.

“Maybe next time?” He asked and watched Sanji’s face light up.

“Next time? So…you want to go on a date again?”

Zoro chuckled, brushing a hand through Sanji’s hair as he walked over to the stairs.

“Wasn’t that obvious?”

“N…not for me.”

„You think I would still be here if I didn’t like our date so far?“

Sanji scratched the back of his neck.

„Guess not…“

Zoro opened the door to the stairs.

„Let‘s get some food, Cook.“

It took them the better half of twenty minutes to walk all the way up to the restaurant. Sanji picked a seat at a table in front of the big window wall. A waitress came over immediately and handed them menus. The woman was clearly drawn toward Zoro, smiling and trying to flirt with him. Sanji raised an eyebrow - either Zoro was that oblivious or he simply ignored her advances. It was quite funny so see. Sanji had to hold back his own flirting with the woman - he was on a date with a handsome man, he couldn't flirt even if he really, really wanted to!

“She’s nice,” Zoro said when the waitress finally walked away to give them time to look at the menu.

Sanji snorted and shook his head.

“So you are that oblivious.”

“Huh?”

Zoro looked a bit puzzled.

“She was full on flirting with you, mossbrain.”

“She wasn't…”

“Yes! She was! Oh my god, you really didn't notice?”

Zoro made a noise that could have meant anything and raised his shoulders. He glanced at the menu and then at Sanji, before placing it down.

“Do you already know what you want?” Sanji asked surprised.

“No.”

Confused, Sanji raised an eyebrow again.

“So…what? You're not eating? Did this make you uncomfortable? Should we got somewhere different?”

“Calm down, Curly. I just want to see what you eat and if I would like that, too. I’m not good at picking food in places I wasn't before.”

“Why didn't you say something? We could have gone somewhere you know!”

Sanji wanted to punch himself and Zoro at that moment. Why didn't he say something? And why didn't he think about that? Zoro mentioned something like this a while ago, so he should have remembered.

“I can see the panic filling your head. It’s fine.”

“I mean…I could order for you, if you want. I know your preferences and taste...We talked a lot about it at the gym.”

Zoro looked a bit surprised, but then smiled wide and nodded. Sanji sent him a quick smile as well and looked over the menu. He knew how much Zoro could eat, so he chose more than one meal - sort of a three-course meal.

They started with fish soup with a wide variety of fish in it, followed by fried rice with pork, eggs, vegetables, and a salad. Sanji also ordered a variety of Sushi, because he knew Zoro loved it but didn't eat it often (he had told him once at the gym) and topped it off with a big fruity ice cream for Sanji and a piece of delicious coffee cake for Zoro. Sanji also ordered wine to go with the food. Zoro hesitated for a moment, but then drank one glass to make Sanji smile. One was okay; he could handle more without feeling the need to drown himself in liquor again.

The meal was great, they chatted for what felt like hours. Sanji had a great time and so did Zoro. When it was time for the check, Zoro tried to insist that he would pay. But Sanji was having none of it!

“The hell I let you pay, Mossbrain! Firstly we agreed that I pay for the foot. Secondly I would have chosen different meals if you would pay.”

“Why” Zoro raised an eyebrow.

“Because those where expensive and I don't want you to pay so much money because I chose the meal.”

“If it's that expensive, then let's split the bill at least.”

Sanji shook his head and got his wallet out. He wouldn't allow Zoro to spend his hard-earned money on food he didn't even choose himself. Sanji had wanted to be a bit fancy and to spoil Zoro for the great day, so he didn't hold back. It didn't even hurt his bank account to spend this much money, it wasn't his own in the beginning.

He waved Zoro off as he tried to give him money while he paid their food and gave the lovely waitress a generous tip. A winning smile on his face when Zoro carved in and put the money away.

“You know I come to think you let me win the argument earlier to pay for the tickets, because you knew the food would be expensive,” Zoro muttered when the stepped out of the aquarium.

“I wouldn't do that, Mosshead. You won the argument fair and square.”

Sanji grinned at him, his hands innocently crossed behind his back. Zoro scoffed with an eye roll.

“Yeah, you would never do that.”

They both laughed. Encouraged by their laughter and the feeling of being save and accepted, Sanji hugged Zoro.

“Thank you,” he mumbled against his ear.

Zoro didn't move at first, and Sanji thought it was too much. Maybe he didn't want to be hugged? Maybe he didn't want to be seen like this in public? But as Sanji loosened his hug to step away, Zoro’s arms came up to hold him tight.

“You don't have to thank me for today, Curly.”

“Yes, I have! It was such a wonderful day. I haven't had that much fun in a very long time.”

Zoro felt his heart clench from Sanji’s words. They were just at the aquarium! Yes, it was great and they had fun - it was a perfect and lovely first date - but what was Sanji doing all this time if this made him say such things?

“Then we should do this more often.” Zoro pushed him away a bit, to look him in the eyes with a smile.

“You would listen to me talk about the same fish, spilling the same facts about them again?” Sanji grinned, but his eyes were full of disbelief.

“All the time.”

And now Zoro acted simply because he got encouraged by the moment. He grabbed Sanji’s face carefully, feeling him stiffen a bit. A smile played on his lips as he pressed them against Sanji’s forehead for a second. He hadn't forgotten his words, that he wasn't ready to kiss him. But he felt the need to show Sanji how much he liked him and forehead kisses were always nice, right? At least he hoped so…

“Was that okay? I’m sorry if not…I got a little overwhelmed…” Zoro asked when Sanji didn't say something - his guts seemed to form a knot because he feared he’d fucked up.

Finally Sanji smiled up at him and his guts unwind with relief.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Great actually. I like forehead kisses.”

Zoro smiled back while they slowly let go of each other.

“Now I have to find my bike again,” he said, scratching his head.

“I totally forgot about that! You can't drive!” Sanji said loudly, grabbing his shoulder.

A bit confused, Zoro looked over to him.

“Why not?”

“Because,” and now he practically shoved a scolding finger against Zoro’s cheek. “You had three glasses of wine. I’m not letting you drive around on a bike with that much alcohol in your system. It’s dangerous enough to drive a bike completely sober.”

Zoro laughed while mentally counting the glasses. Yeah, three were right. That was fine. Five or six, and he would rip his own ass off. But three?

“My alcohol tolerance is a lot higher than that, believe me.”

And those words seemed to flip a switch inside Sanji’s head. He clasped a hand over his mouth while looking like he’d seen a ghost.

“Oh fuck,” came the muffled curse.

“What?”

“I forgot! Fuck…I’m so sorry! I completely forgot you don't drink! Why didn't you say something? You should have…”

“It’s fine.” Zoro dismissed his words with a wave of his hand.

“It’s not! You need to tell me when I forget about things like this! Do you need something? Like…I don't know…like…”

Zoro could see the panic flooding Sanji’s brain in that moment.

“Curls…”

Zoro grabbed Sanji’s shoulders to force him to snap out of his rant and look at him.

“It’s fine. I can handle that much, okay? I would have told you if I wasn't one hundred percent sure I could handle it. It’s not your responsibility to watch out for what I drink. I need to stop myself if I’m feeling like it gets too much.”

Sanji shook his head slightly and Zoro braced himself for an argument, but all he did was grab his hands and look him in the eye.

“I still need you to tell me when I forget about things like this. I don't want to push your limits or for you to push them just to ease my mind, okay? Can we agree on that?”

“Sure. But then I need something from you, too.”

Sanji raised an eyebrow.

“And what would that be?”

“Another hug,” Zoro grinned.

Sanji rolled his eyes and hugged him tight. After some time, Zoro felt him poking his side and squirmed a bit - he was ticklish there.

“I hope you realize I won’t let you drive either way.”

Prev/next

First part