#i didn't change as much from the earlier wip as i thought i would but thats alright

[themintyone]

she took it all from me now I can't find my place do you remember me? do you remember my name? it could all be a dream it could all be a dream it could all be a dream

[jolalibrary]

undercover peña

javier peña x f!reader

as promised, here's a snippet (50 or so lines) from this writer wip poll game and undercover peña won! so, here we have it. it currently doesn't have a working title, but the premise is:

Javier, who has left the bureau and is now back in Texas wants a simple life. But, when Steve offers him a job to go undercover with a fellow DEA agent, posing as a married couple to gather information on a potential new player, he finds it difficult to refuse.

warnings: none, except my unedited writing.

All he has to do is pretend. Put on an act.

Wear something shiny on his left hand and—

“Try not to fuck her, Jav.”

He’s not surprised that Steve heads up a department in Miami—nor that he’s happy, content. A glow to his skin, he suspects, isn’t just from the sun, but knowing his wife is able to sleep and getting the chance to watch his daughter grow older.

Javier couldn’t relate—not that he’d admit that.

Picking up a ring, he rotates it between his thumb and finger as he snorts. “Wouldn’t be very husband-like of me, if I didn’t, would it?”

He’s nudged. An intentional elbow to the side makes him grin as he places the ring back into its velvety spot. Because none look right. None seem right—even for a fake thing.

“Fake husband. And don’t fuck this up.”

“I’m hearing a lot of don’ts and not a lot of do’s, Murphy. What the fuck is it you want me to do?”

He’s already been told, informed. Briefed.

Handed a file—everyone expects he won’t read—and given a rundown of what the operation is supposed to look like. But Javier knows better. Suspects, Murphy does too.

One thing Colombia has taught him is that plans don’t mean shit, not when you’re up against an ever-evolving problem.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Murphy closes his eyes. The same noticeable twitch in his fingers and chewing inside his cheek that Javier can relate to: the sign of a recent quitter, and one attempting to use gum as a replacement.

“Where is she, anyway?” he asks, shifting the conversation.

Needing too.

Before he’d even got on the plane out here, the tension had been too much. Already beginning to fray him at the edges, as sleep began to be a distant friend. That had just been following the initial phone call.

It hadn't mattered that he thought he'd be okay, his body said otherwise. Remembering—it all coming back to him. The aches, the knot in his stomach. Then there was the way a space had begun to be carved inside of him, a place where a piece of his soul he suspects is meant to be, but was long lost when hunting Escobar.

All of it was made worse by the worried look on his Pop’s face.

“You managed longer than I thought, Javi.”

Even though he had known it wouldn't matter, he had still tried to explain. That this time he was doing his friend a favour, that it was a one-time thing—a few weeks, at most.

It didn’t shift the expression—didn’t stop the disappointed lines bleeding into worried ones, mixing with the ones caused by age. It didn't lessen the tightness in the air, because they were both at a standstill in the centre of a formerly (albeit temporary) happy home.

Sighing, Murphy drops his hand—beginning to gesture, somewhat wildly—likely about to tell him he wasn’t sure.

Javier had been told (on numerous occasions) that you were good, brilliant, the only one he’d trust.

He’d been about to begin unpicking those earlier statements when the door opened, red blouse and black tailored trousers clicking their heels towards him.

It wasn't anything cliché. Time doesn't stop—the room doesn't silence. But something happens. Something shifts, changes—alters.

Because usually, a woman's figure is what he will admire first, but he finds that it's your eyes that he meets first.

And fuck do they cut into him. Practically reach towards him, before they go through him, digging into flesh and fucking bone.

Then, ceasefire, a chance to strengthen his facade as you turn to greet Murphy. But, he swears he can still see them behind his lids. Something which makes his jaw tighten, teeth grind—

“You must be my husband,” you say commandingly. Body turning to him, hand sticking out towards him—adding your name to the statement as though stamping it into the air. “Agent Murphy has told me a lot about you.”

an: dedicated to @psychedelic-ink who is lovely and wonderful, and seemed as excited about this as me.

[blood-grove]

unnatural bleeding

merfolk au!

previous <- part 5 -> WIP

parings: gaz x reader

chars: gaz, price , soap , ghost

tws: blood, injuries, violence, past abuse, language, slow burn.

a/n: hehehhehehe finally new update :3 got rid of the rude reader tw cuz reader is gonna be annoyed at the world at best angry at worst plus i dont think ive been writing them rudely so also forgive me if the writing pov changes weirdly idk i have a hard time staying focused and consistent ill try better

tags; @chickennn-soupp @cassiecasluciluce @sans-chara @lethargicluv  @kaoyamamegami

What the hell was this place.

It seems all they did was stare at you and when you would clearly get sick of the mumbles and looks you'd splash them and they'd fucking laugh.

They were weird and the Gaz guy was weirder.

You found later his name was actually Kyle and he meant to clarify earlier.

But you found the silly nickname funny.

But this wasn't fun.

Being propped up on a large mat next to the side of the pool the leather felt uncomfortable under you, You also felt way too exposed as a few humans looked over your stitches and wrappings.

It felt weird there hands weren't rough but no one besides a few have touched you like this they were talking about something you'd care less to pay attention too.

As they examined you, Gaz kept trying to pull your attention away from the other humans.

Oh?

Was he jealous?.

Humans are so fickle it's funny.

-

Christ.

Even working with merfolk in the past Gaz still never got used to the bigger ones like you.

Scarface as you've been suitably nicknamed for the moment been alright and cooperative so far no biting or thrashing.

He'd likely guess the wounds were causing you to be so irritable they didn't look good when they first arrived problem had a couple of parasites on them along with other infections that are still being treated.

Price was observing the whole check up process.

You didn't speak much at least not to any of the other staff.

There were a few problems though.

Firstly they found you solo but there was still likely you belonged to a pod but which is the question.

Secondly, they couldn't keep you in the medical pool forever you were wild to some extent it would be cruel to keep you from you family.

Thirdly during your surgery, they'd found a piece of metal that didn't look important it was kept to be looked over in case it helped discover why you were in such a state, Price already guessed territorial fighting but you clearly (no offense) couldn't pick your battles.

Some of these scars and bites could have been lethal.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as you shifted clicking in annoyance he was quick to reach over for another fish from the bucket nearby by offering it up in an attempt to distract you.

"Are all humans this pokey?"

"No Scarface we just..need to make sure your healing okay..Then we can release you."

Kyle huffed as he gave you an honest smile ignoring the glare and grumble he received in return, You still took the fish though idly crunching on it.

They eventually finished the examination without much fuss except for you not so subtly tripping the newest volunteer who honestly should have been starting off with a much smaller mer than you.

But you start off somewhere.

Speaking of which it's about lunch time for them now and his break time, Kyle oversaw you getting back into the pool without much struggle before he left your area visiting by Price to mention he was going on his break before grabbing his lunch and heading to the docks.

He'd usually not have to wait long before they'd show but it'd seemed they were late.

It wasn't long till a familiar face popped up flashing teeth and all.

"Hey, Soap!" Kyle grinned as he looked to see the shark mer propping up his elbows onto the dock.

"Ghost comin'..?"

"Ah in a bit he's still getting his bearings.."

Now he was confused the last time he'd seen the pair and given them there updated shots and tags they'd been great.

The pair were unusual a Shark and Orca together seemed unheard of but yet just a few years ago now when Kyle had fallen overboard during an solo observation trip Ghost saved him from drowning.

Both of them were odd in a good way, Simon having been outcasted by his pod but he doesn't like to talk about it.

He had lots of scars all telling of countless battles of either for his territory or from just fights.

As for Soap, Sharks were solitary regardless but Soap had his own set of scars from fights some he shouldn't have tried starting.

"Bearings? What happended?.."

"Another fuckin' Orca smaller not as experienced grabbed me a few days back, Si really fucked em' up till the bastard clocked him on the head with there tail-"

Wait.

"Jesus , Where is he? I can get a team out and-"

"Ah ye know how he feels about humans..Plus he seemed to be swimming straight.."

"But Soap , He could have a concussion or maybe a facture-"

Soap sighed as he glanced back to the water before back at Kyle.

"Look..You can try convincing em'"

Soap frowned as Simon finally surfaced propping himself up onto the dock as well the wood creaking slightly under the weight of just Simons upper half.

"Ghost"

"Kyle."

Kyle huffed as he didnt even need to say anything as he went up to him giving him a look before he huffed grumbling quietly adjusting himself better so that Kyle could assess him.

Taking his time looking over the newer injuries they had healed well enough fishing out his little hand held flash light from his keychain in his pocket he checked Ghost's eyes.

After a bit of checking Kyle felt satisfied ignoring Ghost annoyed clicks.

"Mm..Now Soap you said it was another Orca right..? Did it come back?"

"Nah..Fucker swam off after bashing Ghost head..Pretty sure I could smell em' bleeding though for a bit till they got too far."

Right this was looking to be way too convenient and fitting to not match up with good ol' Scarface's condition.

"Mm..Alright..Anyway I brought some-"

"Treats?!" Before Kyle could even move his lunchbox away Soap had snatched it and Kyle let out a exasperated sigh not even fighting for it risk of being pulled into the water.

"Jesus Soap my lunch is still in there be careful- And dont eat the plastic!"

[aaronstveit]

i would loooove to hear more of your director's commentary about deep end! <3 not sure how much you can say without spoiling but did you make a lot of changes from the original draft? and are there any scene that didn't make it into the final fic? thank youuu <3

omg hi anon this question made my entire day <3333 gonna answer beneath a read more as always because when talking about deep end i am this trc meme

okay so firstly! i wrote deep end 3 times. the original draft had a final wordcount of 126,978 words. the middle draft had a final wordcount of 175,065 words. the final draft's wordcount is not finalized yet because i am still editing & still adding one scene to the epilogue, but obviously we've already surpassed the first draft's wordcount, so that's fun.

as you can see, about 50k words were added in the middle draft! there are a lot of reasons for this. chapters 8 & 9, as well as about half of chapter 10, did not exist in the original draft. i added them during rewriting because i felt we hadn't spent enough time with enjolras & cosette.

combeferre and éponine were almost nonexistent in the original draft. not just as a couple, but individually as well. every single grantaire & éponine scene was added in the middle draft, and most of enjolras & combeferre's scenes as well.

i actually didn't cut any full scenes out! there were quite a few though where i started writing a scene, realized it was wrong, and erased what i had written and started over. for instance, this bit in chapter 18:

in the original draft, i tried writing enjolras turning to grantaire at this point and saying, "I think I'm in love with you," before cosette answered the door. obviously, i ended up deciding against this, mostly because i decided the kiss scene would pack more of a punch if enjolras realizes he's in love with grantaire right when he's in the middle of their argument.

i also deleted soooooooooo many arguments. this is probably surprising considering how often they argue in this fic, but at least once a chapter i really had to stop myself and say, okay no this is getting unhealthy. i enjoy writing arguments too much apparently - which is good for writing exr, but only to a certain extent.

originally, grantaire was not going to have a sister. it genuinely did not even occur to me until chapter 11 (which was chapter 8 at the time), but once it did occur to me, i couldn't not do it. his grief plotline became way too dear to me way too quickly.

the biggest changes i made during writing all had to do with reordering events!! originally, karaoke happened somewhere around chapter 8. i ended up moving it wayyyyyyyyy back because i felt like their flirting was out of place so early in the story.

i also moved enjolras' arguments with cosette and grantaire to an earlier point than i originally intended. at first, i thought they were going to happen around the second-to-last chapter, but i moved them forward a lot earlier because i thought more work needed to be done with enjolras.

the chapter that underwent the most changes from the middle draft to the finished draft is chapter 24. obviously i can't say just yet what those changes are, but i'm really really happy with how that chapter turned out and i hope you all will be as well <3

several of my personal favorite scenes in this fic are actually cannibalized from something i tried writing and gave up on a few months ago. marius getting mugged in chapter 4, the hamlet conversation in chapter 7, and enjolras tending to grantaire's broken nose in chapter 14 were all taken from the same abandoned wip.

as for some more random tidbits that i find fun:

a fun fact for everyone is that cosette did not pull the phrase "who has a flag where he should have a heart" out of thin air! she takes this from courfeyrac in chapter 13:

which is why courfeyrac winces when enjolras says it in chapter 19:

also in chapter 19, enjolras means to say that Train to Busan is his favorite horror movie ending. i didn't just choose that because i love that movie (although i really really do) but because. well. i'm not going to spoil the ending for you if you haven't seen it, but... it was very deliberate is all i'm saying.

i really cannot overstate how much of this fic only exists because of cossette notebookmusical. for starters, i only even attempted writing it because she said "jamie if you don't write this." she also got to spend months listening to me bitch about it and receiving so many horrible snippets from the original draft so coco, if you're reading this, thank you from the very bottom of my heart 🫶🏻

more specifically, the entire beginning sequence of chapter 17 with grantaire staying the night at enjolras' apartment was inspired by cossette! i was asking her for situations to put the blond man in and one of her ideas was that he loses his keys. so everyone say thank you cossette!

also the bit in chapter 19 where enjolras thinks about combeferre a psychology minor is the worst thing to ever happen to you was added after i said something to cossette and she said something along the lines of, "would you like to elaborate on that?"

the ending bit of chapter 23 is also inspired by and written for cossette. you'll see what i mean in a few weeks.

there are a lot more bits and pieces inspired by things that cossette has said and done, or added just to make her laugh, but if i listed all of them i would be here forever. just know that this entire fic is cocoservice and it is only because of cossette that it exists at all <333333

there is also a collection of scenes i'm considering writing as "bonus content" for when the fic is fully posted - mostly scenes that already exist, but from another point of view, and a few that are only mentioned in passing.

okay i'm cutting myself off now because this is a lot of yapping even for me but you may always ask more if you're so inclined <3333 thank you sm for asking i had so much fun answering this! i really can't tell you how much it means to me not only that you're not only reading but also enjoying it so much that you're asking about it like... this is literally a fic writer's DREAM. thank you so so so much <3333

[queen-tashie]

Happy Storyteller Saturday! I'd love to hear about your earliest writing attempts! How old you were when you started writing, what you wrote about, the first story you finished, etc... feel free to ramble on :)

Happy Storyteller Saturday!

My absolute earliest writing was way back somewhere between grade 2 and 4 (ages 7-9ish). I tried writing my own episode of Pokemon as a picture book. (I thiiiink my parents still have it somewhere, I kind of want to take a look at it again).

I didn't really write much back then, I was more into drawing line art and making OCs that way. When I got to grade 4 or 5ish I stopped reading on my own almost completely, besides an occasional book or two, and I was more likely to read non-fiction to learn about animals (like sharks. I really like sharks.). I think as I stopped reading I also stopped writing, because I didn't start reading for pleasure again until I was 15. And then suddenly I started writing again.

Around then I mostly read YA fantasy in my free time, so I started writing a story about dragons (two brother dragons, Valdore and Arian, their father Failias, and their mother S... something with an S at least. (I could literally check this right now but I just had a huge meal and I'm feeling sluggish haha). Ok it was bugging me not knowing and I got up to look for it (and it took like 5 minutes instead of the 10 seconds I thought it would lol) and her name was Sarhina. I attempted this story a couple times but was fully pantsing it, not really sure which direction to go in. I wrote about three or four very, very short chapters before I started writing something else. Valdore was one of the OCs I had come up with back in elementary school, I think as young as 6 years old, so I was still happy that I attempted writing a story about him.

The next story I wanted to write was a futuristic apocalypse story where the main characters fought demons as they came out at dawn. This one I progressed even less than the dragon story, the OCs were much newer. Originally I had called this story Survival of the Fittest, then I changed the premise completely to the main characters either appearing in a new world or already living there (I suppose it was a genre change to a portal fantasy). I kept some of the apocalyptic vibes the same, the world had time seasons that went through the life and death of the ecosystem and structures on the land, then back to rebirth. One season was new growth, buildings were small but structurally sound, even people felt refreshed. Another season was abundance, buildings were large and had character to them, people felt their best and were at their strongest. The third season was scarcity and death, buildings crumbled from age, people were struggling to survive. Then it would start again with the rebirth of the land. Again, didn't really know where I was going with this story but the world building was much better developed than the first.

Somewhere in between both of these stories in my teens, I wrote some more Pokemon fanfic that I had started to share on DeviantArt.

There were also a half dozen or so other WIPs that I had started and didn't get further than a paragraph or two. For some reason I deleted many of these :(

Then the first novel-length story I ever finished is (BEING RELEASED TOMORROW!!!!) The Quiet Forest. Runnicka is an old OC from my elementary school drawings (though she's changed since then, I happened to get an ask earlier today that reminded me of this). It took me 11 years to finish writing it (from drafting to giving up and redrafting to finally writing my first outline to finishing the actual first draft, then many, many edits), plus a year to query over 100 agents. It's the longest I've ever stuck to anything before, and so it's been a huge accomplishment finishing it, finishing querying, and now deciding to share it online (more about the story here).

I've had a series of smaller writing wins (ie finished stories) before The Quiet Forest was finished, though! I wrote about 10 flash fictions in 2020, some that I'd like to revisit and edit to better match my current writing skill level. One of them is already ready to read on my AO3 account! And last year I wrote over 80k words between two first drafts for two separate novels, and two finished short stories, one a Legend of Dragoon fanfic (also on my AO3), and another that I wrote as a writing sample for a contract writing position (almost got in but there were hundreds of entries and only about 5 or 6 spots), but I am working to get it published! And speaking of publishing, in 2023 I got randomly inspired to write All You Hear Is My Voice which got published early this year. It's a sci fi/speculative romance where a lonely queer man has reverse telepathy--instead of hearing everyone's thoughts, he's involuntarily projecting every thought he has into the minds of others nearby. Makes it hard for him to meet understanding people, and even harder to date. The thing that makes it sci fi is that it takes place on Mars :)

[ratwars]

WIP Wednesday - 11

For the upcoming Fyodor Ship Week - Thursday Pairing: Fyodor/Nikolai

"The first day went by with nothing noteworthy happening, even as Nikolai got ready for bed he didn't feel like anything was amiss. He actually had forgotten about his shiny new fangs a couple times and nicked his lip and tongue trying to eat earlier. It took a little getting used to. His fangs were longer than the polite little pointy canines he saw depicted so often on illustrated vampires, and he swore his teeth had gotten wider as well. Somehow it all fit comfortably in his mouth without an issue.

Fyodor had asked him if he was feeling any sort of new cravings or hunger, before returning to his own room, but he wasn't yet. As he was falling asleep he swore he saw his door crack open, faint light creeping across the floor of his room and his bed, and he drifted off wondering if Fyodor was much more nervous than he was letting on.

The next day he still felt fine and decided to act as if nothing had changed, maybe he was simply too strong to be affected by something like ability induced artificial blood lust. Or perhaps he would only feel it if he was already fighting someone and making them bleed, maybe that was what Fyodor meant by it varying by personality and disposition.

He sat at their small table and had his usual morning tea with Fyodor, and he managed to avoid biting his tongue this time too when he went to nibble on a slice of apple.

"So you really don't feel any different? At all?"

"Nope! My teeth look cool as hell though! I kinda want to keep them," Nikolai flashed a devious and pointy smile at his friend with a wink.

"I see…" Fyodor trailed off, and Nikolai felt his gaze linger on his smile, and surely his fangs, before he hid them again behind a less animated expression.

Nikolai's own vision was pulled to Fyodor's pale arms, as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up nonchalantly. The blue lines of his veins drawn across his flesh seemed more prominent than usual. He was always fair skinned but his wrists and arms were looking a little, translucent.

That was odd for him to do, Nikolai thought. Fyodor was usually always cold, was his skin always like that before too? Maybe he had been taking worse care of himself...

"A little warm or something?" Nikolai asked.

"Hm? No, why?" Fyodor looked at him curiously from behind his cup as he took another sip of his tea.

"No reason," that was a lie, but now he wondered if he was paying too much attention to him this morning and over analyzing his behaviors.

They finished their breakfast in comfortable silence, but Nikolai couldn't help himself from stealing glances at Fyodor's wrists. He explained it away in his head, that he found Fyodor incredibly attractive and he almost never rolled his sleeves up like that, so of course it would be enticing to Nikolai. That was it."

[emily-prentits]

what are your currents wips!? <3

hi anon! mostly i'm writing for meddison right now, so i'll give you those wips. edit: this got very long so my wips are under the cut <3

lately she's undressing for revenge. i currently have 3 parts out of this fic! the basic premise is addison walks into meredith's life and suddenly her relationship is ruined because her boyfriend didn't bother to tell her that he had a wife. so meredith drops him in a turmoil of feelings and seduces addison to get back at him. and, well, if they happen to fall in love... isn't that the ultimate fuck you?

neighbor au. this one doesn't have a title yet, and it's BARELY a wip with how much time i've had to work on it lately, but it's really kind of an au where one tiny thing is changed in canon and the butterfly effect of what happens because of it- namely derek divorces addison before he runs to seattle in season 1, so when addison shows up in seattle (with henry) in season 18 and moves into the house next to meredith's, they have no idea about the connection between them. slightly crack-y events ensue as well as some very fun, very sexy milf action because really. this is me we're talking about. (it's partially based on my therapist told me by xana if you wanna check that out!!)

sad christmas fic. this is from the mentioned christmas part in chapter 3 of revenge. that's all i'm gonna say about that.

bloomington au. this is based on the sapphic professor/student movie bloomington! the main characters SCREAMED meddison to me as i was watching it so i took notes and somehow it devolved into a whole au. whoops.

elevate me songfic. so um. fun fact about me i hate nick marsh? especially with meredith? so in very me fashion i decided to take the song that played over their first sex scene and make it into a season 18 meddison au. because honestly the whole nick storyline SCREAMS meddison the second time around. the meeting again after a long period of time, the instant rekindling of infatuation, the way they would drop anything for one another, etc. you get it. this one is probably a two parter but i'm excited for it especially since i was just talking about it with @walshies earlier. it's going to be very self indulgent and everything we wished was true about meddison the second time around <3

an addison-centric fic about her early life > relationship with derek > relationship with mark > relationship with meredith <3 i haven't decided whether or not i want to include the events from private practice into this fic yet but i suppose we will see what happens when i have more time lol.

carol au. planned this one out with @thenightmaredrowns! it's based on the movie carol (as was a bit obvious) we have it mostly figured out we just have to... actually write it. in our spare time.

bonus random assorted fics i haven't thought about in a bit:

series rewrite but meddison is cheating on derek through the entire show

a fic set to enchanted by taylor swift. set before in the heat of your electric touch (i want to need you forever)

season 6 au, meddison adopts zola

a fic set to maroon by taylor swift

friends with benefits meddison

a fic set to shivers by ed sheeran (this one has no plot. it's a single scene lol)

[doodlebeeberry]

Why she was sitting up on the pool rim with her, then, Charlotte didn't know.

wip of a charlotte and amelia fic cause. i dont really have a good reason i just feel bad leaving it on my hard drive for so long with out touching it.

The plane wasn't quiet. It had been, it had been really quiet, for a while, back when Airy had first disappeared. Hours (days? Weeks? Months? Shifts, the others had started calling them, like they were stuck at work instead of in Hell, though she herself could never get in the habit) of silence would stretch over the plane on all sides. Charlotte, more often than not, would use that time the same way she almost always did: sitting back, thinking, watching, on occasion, whatever the others were up to. Fun times. But, sometime in between dying–or reviving, reincarnating, she didn't even wanna begin figuring that one out, so dying it remained–and Backpack–Liam–making an appearance…wherever Airy was, something changed. She'd noticed while trying to take a nap, how there was always noise now, some little background noise beyond the usual chatting that was a frequent fixture of this place. She heard rain pretty often, or what sounded like rain, sometimes like a drizzle and others like a down-and-out hurricane. Typing was even more common, the clunky kind from a loud keyboard, alongside computer mouse clicking and muttering. Lots of muttering. Lots of muttered curses, to be more specific, in a voice eerily like Liam's. Honestly, it sounded like someone had walked away from a voice call without turning the microphone off, all that kind of unconscious background noise. Putting two and two together, she could guess that Liam himself had something to do with it. Figures.

At the moment, she heard the faintest sound of snores make their way down to them, which had followed behind keystroke clacks, slowing steadily until, with a final little clatter, the vanished altogether. It was an easy picture to paint, Liam slumped over whatever keyboard he had on his end, asleep with his cheek pressed flat on the keys, and fitting given that almost everyone down on the plane was asleep as well. Subway and Whippy had gone inanimate–another wonderful phenomena of this place she wouldn't bother figuring out–in a little pile, one stacked on top of the other. She'd caught Tray dozing on the far side of the pool, and last she saw Scenty and Soda–Bryce–they'd been in the shed failing to play chess, she could only assume they'd fallen asleep at some point too. Charlotte was tempted to join in, honestly, she certainly felt tired. Earlier she'd been pulled, five against one (though it really wasn't much of a fight) into helping whittle down some of the wood from that last stake into something they could actually use. Someone–Subway, she guessed–wanted to make another game board, so that they'd have something to play other than chess. But despite actually doing something today, the keyboard noise combined with the renewing ache of growth in her shoulder had kept Charlotte awake, enough so that she'd said Fuck It and went on a short walk down to the plug and back in the hopes that it'd knock her out. Which it hadn't yet, even though she was already on her way back. Passing by Subway and Whippy, still inert, she groaned internally. Staring off into space and thinking–spiraling, more accurately, though she wouldn't put it like that–hadn't exactly done her any good before she died. Charlotte wasn't keen on playing that game again, but she didn't have anything else to do, particularly with just about everyone else asleep. She could swim, she thought, but hesitated at the thought of all that moisture mingling with her mold. She passed by Atom, the only other person awake by the looks of it, noticeable only by an overturned triangle of grass, bobbing as he tried drawing in the dirt with its tip. He greeted her, just like he had when she'd left. She could sit with him, watch him draw, even draw herself if she wanted, but…eh. She wasn't really one for art. That, and Atom was another one of those quirks of the plane she didn't wanna put much thought into; she didn't really like hanging around with just him. She nodded back at him, returning his greeting, and approached the shed. If nothing else, she could always steal the chess board from Bryce and Scenty while they slept, though the thought of playing a one-on-one match with herself was absolutely humiliating.

Charlotte sighed, rounding the corner. What she wouldn't give for her flat-screen. Or her phone. Or the internet. God, she missed the internet. All the movies or games or books she could have ever wanted had been right at her fingertips, and now she'd been reduced to just whittling away her time. Literally. It sucked. Before she could get too far with her griping, though, she glanced into the shed. The sight gave her pause. Bryce was there, as she'd guessed, leaning back with his feet kicked up on both the table and the board–the bastard, she thought, unable now to steal it without waking him–but that was it. Bryce was asleep alone, Scenty nowhere to be seen. Huh. it wasn't a cause for concern, really. Unless she'd fallen from somewhere, somehow, and shattered her sorry ass Charlotte knew she was fine–not like they could get lost here, after all, or go missing–but it was weird. She shrugged, turning away from the scene. Not like it was any of her business what Scenty got up to in her down time. But no sooner had she written the situation off did she spot the woman of the hour perched up on the rim of the pool, alone, facing the water. Again Charlotte paused–that was even weirder. She could count the number of times she'd seen Scenty up there on one hand with fingers to spare, and not once had she been alone. The ladder in her sights, Charlotte weighed her options.

...At least the climb up the ladder was short.

Annoying, given the bad are and shit depth perception, but short. And the view from the rim wasn't terrible. Not that there was much to see, beyond the occasional sleeping forms of the others-now including Tray, visible from this vantage point, still curled up exactly where Charlotte had last seen her-but you could see the curvature of the plane, the way the "grass" seemed flatter the further out you squinted. At the very least, you could see it all more clearly that you could from the ground. At its edges, the sky was grey. Greyer, anyway, or duller. The sun sat squat overhead. Scenty sat criss-cross a scooch or two away. Hands at her side kept her balanced on the thin edge, Charlotte thought. She pulled herself up onto the lip, alongside her. Scenty didn't acknowledge her, if she noticed her at all, staring into the water. Reflected back, Scenty's expression was steady. Charlotte watched her a moment, then, with a splash, plopped her feet into the water. Perfectly lukewarm. Eugh. The reflection rippled. Scenty glanced at her slightly. Charlotte caught her eye instantly. She raised a brow, and Scenty looked away. Charlotte did the same.

They stayed like this for several minutes. Looking around, into the water. Sometimes Charlotte would drag her feet, back and forth, making the sun around their heads distort. Charlotte and Scenty hadn't talked much lately. They'd talked a little, in a place like this it was almost impossible to avoid one another entirely, but all of it was short and none of it mattered much. Just shift talks, mostly. Somewhere along the line, Subway, nosy bastard that he was, insisted on knowing more about her life-particularly her cave exploring, which both he and Whippy claimed was too cool a topic to keep to herself. She'd relented eventually, if only (she would say) to get them off her back, and one little story-time turned into another, then another. Then the others started throwing in their own experiences–who was dating who at Tray's school, convoluted sub-atomic politics as described by Atom that Charlotte simply could not wrap her head around, a story about sibling mischief that made Bryce sound fonder than she'd ever heard him. Even Liam had joined in a couple of times, with weird telemarketing stories that made him laugh tiredly. It became part of the work shifts, like yoga or whittling. Scenty, meanwhile, never joined them. Charlotte only offered once. She wasn't surprised, being turned down. She remembered what'd happened, just before Bryce showed up. Scenty was set on leaving that chat unfinished and Charlotte couldn't be assed to do anything about it, even if it kept them from actually talking about anything ever again. Whatever problem Scenty had, that was her business.

Why she was sitting up on the pool rim with her, then, Charlotte didn't know. She hadn't really thought this through as well as it seemed. Scratch that, she hadn't really thought this through at all. But the silence was getting awkward, with everyone else too asleep to break it. "The water's…nice," Charlotte tried lying first. Scenty hummed. The quiet returned. Damn it. She kicked the water around a bit. "You don't come up here much," she observed instead. "Not really, no," Scenty replied.

[umbracirrus]

WIP Whenever 💛

Losing track of days this week, it has certainly been... something, to say the least. I've also not really had much chance to write this week until today, so it's certainly not my best but that's the nature of a work in progress, isn't it? It'll change, and it'll get better! 😊

With the excerpt I'm posting today, I've jumped ahead a few chapters in The Perfect Storm to the events of a festival in Whiterun - as for which one... Well, I've not made my mind up on it yet. Probably something like New Life... something winter-y or based around new year/midwinter at least!

Tagged by @thequeenofthewinter and @oblivions-dawn 💛

--------

Balgruuf frowned at the display of treats, not through dislike of the selection but rather through his inability to make a decision. Even then, his decision was not about what he wanted – his mind was set upon spiced fruit tarts following on from the earlier recommendation – but rather about what he would do afterwards. And just how many he would buy.

For a time, he pondered, going through his different options in his mind… at least until he realised that he was starting to receive concerned looks from passersby, both resident and visitors alike, for how he had been standing. Fortunately, his mind was made up by then.

An exchange of seven hundred (to be adjusted!) septims later – a price which he had no doubt was driven by the war across Skyrim – he found himself with two of the tarts, the sugar which dusted the top of them already getting all over his hands as a smile crept onto his face. The festival had been enjoyable, but it felt about the right time for him to go home. Whilst the city could be afforded the opportunity to make merry into the early hours, the same such luxury was not extended to its Jarl whose schedule the next day began before sunrise. That, and he had something which he wanted to do before he went to bed for the night.

Weaving in and out of the crowds filling the marketplace, he was glancing across all the people on the lookout for somebody in particular. He soon enough spotted her, though that was not after having to stop as he heard chanting from the direction of the Bannered Mare, and caught sight of Hrongar and one of the twins of the Companions having what appeared to be a drinking competition whilst an audience goaded them on. He rolled his eyes yet let out a chuckle as he shook his head, before approaching where Irileth was sat on a wall, her hand firmly placed upon a bow.

The housecarl acknowledged him with a quick glance, before her eyes darted back towards the chanting. "Yes?"

"I need you to keep an eye on my children for me until it is time for them to leave the festival, Irileth. Hrongar too, if possible. I'm returning to Dragonsreach. Keep them safe for me."

"But what about your safety, Balgruuf?" She called out, her full attention finally on him as he briskly walked away from her. He didn't respond. He didn't hear her over the cheer of a victor being declared for the contest. "Balgruuf?!"

He had a one-track mind as he made his way through the streets, following a path he had followed so many times before that it was a surprise that the stone had not worn thin beneath his feet or the wood give way to splinters on the bridge leading into Dragonsreach. It was only when indoors though that he exhaled quietly, and began to slow his pace into something more relaxed.

Soon enough, he made his way into the private quarters, then slowly approached a door which at first glance was closed, but upon knocking, creaked open. He didn't fully step inside, not knowing if he was entirely welcomed by its occupant, but made his presence known through clearing his throat.

"Are you still awake?" He asked, taking a deep breath as he thought on what say. "I… felt bad that you weren't able to visit the festival, so I brought you something that I think that you would like. May I come in?"

There was silence for a moment, before there was a quiet creaking of floorboards followed by the door opening fully. "Y… Yeah. You can."

[fateinthestars]

Yes, I know it isn't Wednesday but I've apparently not posted for nearly a week and wanted to point out that I am still here, so here have an SCM Fanfic WIP update post

1 (NEW). Untitled (Fae!King Tauxolouve/Reader)

Current word count: 935. This is for a request and is part of why I'm doing this update now - so that you know I've started it. 😅 This may or may not take a while though, AUs are a) not my usual forte and b) I'm gonna need to do some world building stuff most likely.

2 (NEW). Pushed too far (Probably Huedhaut/MC)

Title, pairing, and pretty much anything else subject to change in this one. This isn't actually written at all yet, but an idea that vaguely came to me whilst working earlier. If I can work out how to do this (or for another pairing but I think this is the one that is going to pan out the best for what I have in mind) it'll basically lead to that god switching departments. 😅

---------------------------------------------------------------

And just to remind everyone (and myself I guess lol) what else is still on the list from last update, none of which have been touched since then:

3. What the Future May Bring (Huedhaut/MC)

Current word count: 1,093. Yeah I've still not gone back to this one yet. I really want to get my focus back onto it cos I thought I had a clear idea but it was a long time ago when I jotted the first thousand words down. But it'll probably be the request fic first now.

4. Sleepless! (Aigonorus/MC)

Current word count: 3,902. I'm still torn with this one. Which may mean you might see a different Aigonorus fic from me (cos I really do want to give him a full length story).

5. Future Help (Ichthys/MC)

Current word count: 488. As before, this one is rather on the back burner at the moment.

6. Untitled (Ichthys/MC/Huedhaut)

Current word count: 688. Rating: Likely M due to dark themes (if I ever finish this one. The base of this might be reworked actually).

7. Fiery Encounter (Aigonorus/Reader)

Current word count: 714. I had a sudden idea for something and what I already have written for this one is the result. Hopefully someone out there is interested in an Aigo/Reader fic.

And now for the two that didn't exist last time I did a list (yeah there's a reason I shared that meme I did the other day...)

8. Untitled (Huedhaut/Tauoxlouve)

Current word count: 1,057. The start of a vague idea I had for these two. There's actually two others I'm considering (though one would be in my Karno/MC universe and I'm not sure about doing that)

9. Light vs Dark (Huedhaut/MC)

Current word count: 582. As you can probably tell from the title this has the under realm in it and maybe I ought to move away from that a little for a bit. That said this one is going to give me an excuse to write more Hiyori so...

[eleanore-delphinium]

Firstly those are the titles.

I didn't expect that 103 people would vote. For those that need more than the title to decide at the bottom are some hints.

These are the stories that are more or less more developed and because there is only 10 options available.

And with that said, whatever wins, I will write the summary of the story to the best of my abilities. (because let's be honest, I am very unreliable as a writer.) I will also give a week to give a chance to everyone and I won't be voting so I won't see the results.

Spoilers ahead.

Diaval

A maleficent AU. Been in my mind for 3 years, one of my earlier damirae plots.

My memory of this is blotchy sadly, they have kids here.

I could never actually write this because I can't figure out how I want to write it (and because I forgot some big bits).

Broken Vow

This is messy af. But honestly my fave and for me it's worth it.

Damian has 2 sons.

Damian divorced Raven.

Cheating.

Intrigue.

AFTER

Some JayRae here.

Story starts 5 years after Damian's death.

Nothing much to say about this if it's chosen, I have started this and it's been in my drafts for 2-3 years. I couldn't continue this because I didn't like how I wrote it, but I changed my mind when I reread it recently.

Angst.

The Prince of Wayne

This one kinda pokes fun of like boys over flowers and that kind of stories.

My memory of this is blotchy too.

But there is a plot and I vaguely remember the waypoints.

A World Without a You

This is short, and you guys have seen some of the dialogues of this AU.

Teaser 1 ( Dialogues from Damirae Fics I May or May Not Write. I .)

For reference:

Teaser 2 ( Dialogues from Damirae Fics I May or May Not Write. I(a) .)

I have written this (and been in the WIP graveyard for 2-3 years), but I didn't like it which was why I wanted to scrap it.

Dialogues above were what made me think of this AU.

Smooth Criminal

I tried writing this but never could go pass 2 paragraphs.

Enemies to Lovers.

Raven is in League of Assassins.

Damian is not.

Olympians

Greek Gods AU.

Jon and Raven are sometimes 'lovers/ siblings/ cousins/ some other thing' depending on the situation.

I have wrote this and have been in the WIP graveyard for a 2 years.

Mystery.

Damian and Raven met because he is looking for Hades' Flower.

The Cruel Joke

I wanted to kill someone. So I did.

Major Character death.

Then I realized it is similar to what happened to Barbara Gordon in Killing Joke, which is why the title is the way it is, it is a homage to that.

I have started this, and it is in my WIP graveyard for about 5 months.

The Cruel Joke: Teaser 1

Some of you might have also seen some of the lines, and for reference:

The Cruel Joke: Teaser 2

Marks

This one is one of my earliest Damirae fics too. It has been in my WIP graveyard the longest. Planned to be a 3 parter.

SMUT heavy, so heavy that I had a burnout.

Not a happy ending.

But by technicality it is, because I decided to show alternate worlds.

Damian has an arm sleeve tattoo.

Raven goes to college.

They met because Damian saved the damsel (in distress) on the streets of Gotham.

First And Last

AU is actually in Gods and Monsters wherein Bekka is Wonderwoman and Superman is Hernnan.

The first part was posted, for reference: FIRST 

This is a 3 parter, that obviously never finished.

This actually has the first most unique proposal I ever thought of and I think about it now and then.

[illiana-mystery]

WIP Whenever

Since I haven't been posting as frequently as I would like, I decided to post some more WIPS. These wips are from Cloud 9, Space Oddity, Sugar Baby, and Playing House.

Also I am also currently drafting the next chapter of Devotion and two one-shot (or two-shot, depending on length and description) fics.

So without further ado, here's what I've been working on. @ghnaim24

---

Cloud 9

Author's Note: Goblin is speaking where the text is bold and italicized.

A few hours later.

What are you waiting for? Call her. Let's get this over with.

Norman didn't heed the advice though. Instead, he just kept pacing back and forth in his bedroom, trying to figure out a way out of this mess. A way that didn't involve breaking up with her via video chat.

It was just the way he was. Bold one minute, and then frightened the next. He was like that with Deja earlier, and he was returning to that state now.

He didn't really understand why he was being like this. In the past, he had all of the control over Lorraina, but now it seemed as if the tables had turned.

And they had.

His reputation was in slow repair, while hers had dramatically changed due to her progeny and marriage into a well known and beloved family.

Honestly, he envied her. She didn't deserve this happily ever after she got, even if she clearly wasn't happy with her husband anymore. But no one in Georgia knew her past, so she was still secure unlike him. She did slander his name, well according to Deja anyway.

But yet, here he was. Still chasing her.

Was it because she was something he knew?

Something he could still attain from his troubled past?

Maybe so. But again, she wasn't the same mouthy, rude 20-something year old Daily Bugle reporter now. No, she was older, slightly wiser, and even more jaded with a soft touch of wisdom on her almost 50-year old skin. She didn't have the youth he so desperately wanted anymore, so what was the point?

What did she have to offer other than acknowledging his past life?

Clear realization came to him once he thought about all of those factors. It hit him like a bolt of lightening and he finally snapped out of it.

He realized he really didn't love her anymore and that she used him as much as he used her.

It was a toxic relationship. A relationship that was better off left in the past.

You finally came around. Took you long enough. Now call her, you coward. Or I will.

"I still need to figure out how to break up with her easily."

What is there to figure out?! You don't love her anymore, if you ever did. She doesn't do anything for us, she's mouthy, doesn't worship or obey us. She was nothing but trouble, only good for her youth and she doesn't even have that anymore. She was a good fuck that needs to stay in your past. Besides, you're all fascinated with that little floozy at the airport now. Hmm, your heart beat just intensified at the thought of her.

"She's not some floozy," he retorted. "She's a beautiful and educated young lady."

Yeah, whatever. Girls like her are a dime a dozen. I wouldn't fall in love just yet, Romeo. We still don't know if we can trust her. Is she even aware I'm still here?

"No, and I intend to keep it that way."

You can't hide me forever, Norman. We are one, always will be. You can't get rid of me. She's just gonna have to learn to deal if heaven forbid you keep this fascination with her.

"It's not a fascination," he corrected. "It's a blossoming crush right now. But I think it will become more in the near future. I mean she did give me her number."

That doesn't mean anything. Still, she does seem to be better than Lorraina already. Hmm, maybe she'll actually worship and praise us as her new god. Maybe she'll obey and not sass us.

"I don't want to control her, and I won't let you do that."

Like you'll be able to stop me. And don't lie to yourself. Imagine her praising your name as you fuck her long and hard. Imagine her suck your cock as the carpet digs into her burning ebony flesh. It feels good, doesn't it? You're weak, Norman. I'm only trying to help. I mean we should be able to get something out of her, right?

Norman rolled his eyes and shook the thoughts Goblin suggested to his subconscious out of his mind.

He didn't want to think about Deja that way. He didn't see her as a sex object. He saw her as a potential equal intimate partner, as a woman that he just wanted to kiss and cuddle even more than fuck her.

"I'm gonna call Lorraina now," he said before his head started to throb. In an instant, he fell to his knees, dropping his iPhone on the carpet in the process.

Instinctively, he rubbed his head to numb the pain before a manicial laugh left his throat.

Norman was gone now, and Goblin was gonna handle Lorraina like he wanted to.

"Sit tight, Norman. I'll handle this bitch. I just wanted to see if you had the guts to call her."

Carefully, Goblin picked the phone and himself up, gleefully watching as the black screen slowly revealed a lingerie-clad Lorraina in her bedroom.

She was lounging in her bed, with her legs open revealing the sheer panties she was wearing while her large breasts were about to spill out of the lingerie top. Her butt was also poked out and she sexily bit her lip like in the past when she saw him.

"Hello, handsome. It's about time you called me. I was about to call you," she cooed before she noticed the twisted smile and darkness in his eyes. It frightened her, until she realized what was going on.

She wasn't talking to Norman. She was talking to Goblin.

"Bring him back," she demanded.

"What do you mean?" he asked trying to mimic Norman's normal tone of voice.

"You know what I mean you asshole! Bring my Norman back!"

"I'm afraid Norman's on sabbatical, my dear. He needed to rest his head. It's been a long day for him, so I thought I would help him out. Help him get rid of a past pest, you know?"

"What are you..."

"Does your husband now you're trying to pursue him again? Because Giulio must be an idiot if he doesn't know."

"How do you know my husband's name?"

He snickered.

"Didn't even hesitate. Guess he doesn't know then. Wow, you really like breaking hearts, don't you, Lorraina? You think it's so cute. And it kinda was, when you were young and vibrant. But look at you now. Old and worn out, outclassed by your gorgeous, young daughter. It's not cute anymore, Lorraina. It really isn't."

"Bring Norman back. I want to talk to him," she demanded.

"Shut the fuck up, whore," he yelled at her, anger deep in his eyes. "I don't let whores backtalking me. Now Norman might tolerate that, but not me. You don't talk to me like that les you want to see what I'm truly capable of. I'm not afraid to mutilate a woman."

His words horrified her, to the point she was stunned silent, which delighted Goblin.

"Good. Finally, the whore listens and shuts her mouth. Now listen up and listen good, you'll lose this number and never contact us again. Norman's done with you. He's done with your lying and attitude and clout chasing ways. He doesn't love you anymore. And if you ever try to contact us again, I won't be so nice. Got it?!"

The only response he received back was a nod, before the video chat was ended. His devious smirk curled into an even more sinister smile before he let out another wicked chuckle.

Finally, he was rid of Lorraina so Norman could focus on bettering his reputation and rebuilding his legacy through Oscorp. After all, that was the prime objective. The last thing he needed was more distractions.

Although Deja was starting to become one.

But he would bide his time, seeing what to do with her. However, now it was time for him to reluctantly release control back to his cowardly host again.

"Oww, ugh," Norman cried out in pain as he rubbed his head again.

His headache throbbed even more than at the airport when Goblin raised his ugly head earlier, much to his chagrin.

Luckily, Bernard was around and when he heard his Master, he quickly came into his room with an ice compress for his head.

"Thanks, Bernard," he said as he took it from his butler and placed it on his head.

"You're welcome, Master Osborn, but might I also suggest some rest? You look quite tired, sir. Maybe that will help your headache go away too."

"You know what? That's a great idea. Thank you."

"Of course, sir," the old servant said before he left Norman alone with his thoughts and other half.

Finally, the Master retired to his bed, stripped bare to only his tight briefs and the ice compress on his forehead.

A slight peace came to his mind too once his head hit his pillow, until he remembered blacking out before calling Lorraina, which meant that Goblin must have talked to her for him.

The thought made him panic. Sure he wasn't interested in her anymore, but he didn't want Goblin to hurt her too bad. He still did have a soft spot for her, regardless of all the shit she put him through in the past.

Calm down, Norman. Relax, take a nap. I can feel the tension in your body.

"What do you tell her?"

I beg your pardon.

"What did you tell her?!"

I let her down easy, like you said. Promise. And you never have to worry about her bothering you again. I think I made her get the hint.

"But how did you say it? Like..."

Why don't you text Deja? See what she's up to? Think about your new conquest. The pretty little black woman on your arm. Doesn't that sound nice?

"Yeah, it does," he moaned as he reached for his phone that he left on the nightstand. "But what should I say?"

Did you really just ask me that? Pathetic. Stop being a little bitch and just talk to her. You already have power over her, you just have to keep charming her. She seems to like your sad vulnerability, emote that more. Then she's be wrapped around your finger. Then she'll only be reliant and loyal to you. Or else.

"Right," he said before exhaling a deep breath. "I just hope she responds quickly."

---

Space Oddity

After lunch, you and Saaltar had to split up again much to his disappointment. But you had two more classes to attend, and he had his two to attempt to teach. So reluctantly, he let you go without a hug or a kiss to not alarm suspicion.

But just as you, he was anticipating seeing you again at the front of the university where you told him to meet you.

However, unfortunately for him, he had to wait a little longer than planned due Professor Homer Finnbar letting your Advanced Calculus class out late.

It was a nasty little habit that the older professor had, but you hoped today would be different. Too bad it wasn't. So you just hoped Saaltar wouldn't be too upset when you got there.

Luckily, to your utter surprise, you found Saaltar playing with a little sand lizard that must have been scurrying near his feet. The alien was standing on his knees while he patiently waited for the creature to climb on his palm. Not a second sooner, the lizard got the hint and did as the humanoid wanted bringing a wide smile to his face.

"Now what are you, you fascinating little creature?"

"It's a sand lizard," you said, slowly meeting the eyes of your love. "They're called Pandora Lizards to be exact. They're called such since they like to burrow in holes that are usually occupied by little insects, hence opening a 'box' that let out vermin."

Saaltar just smiled, although you could tell he was a bit confused. So you quickly explained the myth of Pandora's box. He gave you his usual nod after then went back to observing the lizard.

"I like him..."

"I think you mean her. Male Pandora lizards have brownish-green heads, females have just brown. They make really fun pets. I used to have one as a child."

"Would you like to hold her?" he excitedly asked.

You giggled.

"Sure," you replied before he carefully handed her to you. You tried to be as careful as possible since the creature was in its adolescence and much smaller than Megeara, your old pet.

"This is a young lizard. I've never handled one so small. My Pandora Lizard was an adult named Megeara. She was my best friend, my last birthday gift from my mother before she passed. I had her for about 12 years."

"Wow, a long living little creature then."

"Yeah, they have the longest lifespan of any lizard in this part of the country," you said as you put the reptile back on the ground. "She probably is looking for her mommy though. So I'll let her free."

"That was probably the right thing to do," he said as he watched the creature disappear into the bushes. "I'm happy to see you again."

"Me too," you chirped. "I'm ready to go, if you are."

"I'm ready, but I want to go behind a tree first."

"Behind a...," you questioned before you realized what he said. "You really can't wait to kiss me again, huh?"

He shook his head.

"Okay, okay. Let's go behind a tree," you replied before you led him to the nearest one around.

You looked around to make sure the coast was clear and then you intitated the kiss. Softly, you grabbed his suit and pulled him closer to you as your lips connected. Fabric was soon let go after and then your arms coiled around his neck as his hands clutched your hips.

You were both practically humming into this kiss, quickly deepening it with the connection of tongue.

Then you pulled away, simply admiring how cute Saaltar was with his red flushed cheeks and happy grin.

"There, now let's go," you said. "I promise you they'll be more to come once we're alone and you can shed that meat suit."

"I can't wait," he happily said.

It was a straight shoot from the tree to the parking lot where his disguise spaceship was stationed.

As he said, the craft was now a mint green Chrysler convertible that comfortably seated four people with its beautiful accent mint and white leather seats.

Like the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger door for you before getting in on the driver's side.

"Do you know how to drive?" you curiously asked.

"Since my spacecraft takes me where I want to go, it does the driving for me even in this camouflage. And under the hood is all of the Keitalean technology that powers it. I just keep my hands on the wheel to not frighten any other motorist."

"Oh wow. That's cool and really smart. Wow, alien technology is amazing."

Saaltar smiled before he took your hand and kissed it. After, he punched in the coordinates for the motel he was staying at and then let the tech do the work.

You were in awe of this self-driving car which was so entertaining to your alien lover. He really could never get enough of you being intrigued by what Keitalea offered both technologically and anatomically.

And soon, you realized where you were going. The car was driving you into the unincorporated part of the town where no one stayed. It was practically no man's land except for the one convenience store and the lone motel you realized he was staying at.

The Stargazer Inn was said motel and it boasted both your typical motel outdoor layout as well as the more expensive "Stargazing Huts" that lined the back of the establishment.

The huts were basically tiny homes that were painted dazzling white and had all of the comforts of a regular home just in a smaller package. They usually were always sold out by wealthy visitors, so you only had the chance to stay in one once with your father to watch a solar eclipse.

You figured Saaltar wasn't staying in one of those though. Especially since he parked right in front of one of the doors of the usual layout.

"Welcome to my temporary home," he said as he got out of the car and walked over to let you out. "Room 122."

"Oh, you're staying here. Man, I haven't stayed here since my father was still alive," you said as you noticed him take his key out to let you into the room. "We watched a solar eclipse in one of the huts out back. People from all over the country come here to watch the stars, eclipses, and the occasional aurora borealis."

"I know," he softly said as he unlocked the door and let you in. "That's why I chose to stay here. Makes me feel closer to home."

"That's so poetic," you cooed after he closed the door behind you.

He flicked the light on afterwards and you soon admired how clean and spotless his room was. The little possessions he had were put away neatly and every surface was basically shining.

Honestly, it was the cleanest, nicest motel room you had ever seen.

"You really like to keep a clean home," you complimented him. "It's practically sparkling in here."

"Thank you," he said with a soft chuckle. "It was much too dirty for my liking when I first moved in so I used some cleaners from the convenience store as well as my powers to clean up around here. So I'm happy you appreciate my hard work."

"More than appreciate it. I'm honestly impressed by it," you assured as the blush on his face became even redder.

"I'm kinda sad to leave, but I'm glad I get to stay with you."

"I agree. Now how can I help?"

---

Sugar Baby

Back at the manor, the couple's anticipated guest was finishing up getting ready in the bedroom she now shared with her sugar daddy.

Said daddy had just stepped away after he helped her pick out a little blue cocktail dress that was just low cut enough to show off her nape.

Happily, she put it on after he left and was now donning on some light makeup. A bright smile beamed from the vanity mirror, becoming bigger as she noticed her older lover strolling back over to her.

"You look beautiful, Alia," he cooed as his arms enveloped her waist. His lips gingerly traced her jaw and neck afterwards, gaining a sweet little giggle from her.

"Thank you, Eddie," she chirped before her eyes met his. He was practically worshipping her beauty by how he was looking at her. His ocean blues just taking in all of her ebony.

"I don't know if I want to let you leave anymore," he teased as he kissed her bare shoulder. "I don't want anyone else looking at you...getting any ideas."

His grip around her waist got tighter after that, asserting his possession of her. She was his and he hoped she would remember that.

"Even if they do look, I wouldn't give them the time of day. They're not worthy of me, like you are. They can't give me the same love and affection that you do. I know that to be true. My heart only belongs to you, Eddie," she assured him. "Besides, it's just a little get together with two friends and my guy friend knows I only see him as such."

Ed didn't look convinced though, especially since he did start to question who her friends were after Malcolm interrogated her at the table.

"Eddie, just trust me," she begged after she broke away from his grip. "I would never hurt you. I promise."

He didn't respond though, instead he walked over to her nightstand and grabbed her purse and phone she left. Then he briskly walked back over by her.

"Don't forget your stuff," he softly said before she took them from him.

"Thanks," she said before she kissed his cheek. He blushed before digging into his pocket and taking out a black box.

"I can't have you going out with a bare neck," he said before he opened the box. Inside was a beautiful opal teardrop pendent that shone under his bedroom light. Alicia was in awe of the stone and watched as Ed took it out and opened the clasp.

He stepped behind her soon after and placed it around her neck and her hand moved to gently touch it. It was smooth to the touch and really did add to her look.

"Ed, did you buy this for me?"

"No, this is more sentimental than a store bought piece," he began to explain. "This is the Agnes Opal. It's been in my family for generations. It belonged to my bisnonna, Agnes Carmine, made for her by her father who was the town jewelry back in Milan. Ever since her death, the opal has been passed down to the eldest daughter. Well, since I'm an only child, my mother didn't have a daughter to pass it on to. So she gave it to me before she died and told me to give it to the worthy woman in my life. I know we just met, but it just feels right to give you this to you."

"Wow, you're entrusting me with a family heirloom?"

"I think you're worthy," he said before grinning at her.

"Oh, Eddie," she said trying to hold back tears. "You're too sweet. Thank you. I'll protect this with all my heart. I promise."

She hugged him afterwards.

"You're very welcome, Alia," he said before checking his watch. It was a quarter til she was expected at the get together, so he decided to go ahead and call Reginald to bring her.

"I should probably call Reginald now," he announced. "I'll be back."

He stepped out of the room again after, so Alicia decided it was the perfect time to check her phone.

To her horror, though, Lou had called and texted her multiple times within the span of an hour. She wondered if something was wrong, but she knew that she couldn't call him right now. So instead, she went to her messaging app and replied,

Sorry Lou. I got a little caught up in some morning chores and running errands. And I forgot to answer you back. I hope you're okay. I can't wait to see you tonight either.

Ed walked back right when she was wrapping up typing out her text, and he noticed her frantically typing which confused him. But he didn't question her about it.

"Reginald will be here in 5," he said as he walked back over to her. She quickly put her phone away and let him kiss her again before he grabbed her hands and looked at her with deep concern on his eyes.

"Alia," he said before he took a deep breath. "Please keep in contact with me throughout the night. That's all I ask of you. I want you to have so much fun with your friends, but please keep me posted. Your wellbeing and safety are of the most importance to me."

He slowly caressed her face after, then placed another kiss on her lips.

"I can definitely do that," she chirped before her phone vibrated in her purse. Ed looked at her puzzled before she said,

"It's just my friend again. I'll get it in a minute."

He smirked.

"You want me to kiss you again before we part?"

"Of course," she cooed before he gave her what she wanted.

"Come, let's go back downstairs and wait for Reginald."

---

Playing House

"I'm so sorry about Mama," Loretta told the old man as he sat next to her in the moving truck. The driver had remained silent, just focusing on the road so she figured he probably wouldn't be listening to their conversation.

"It's alright," he lightly said. "I know she meant no real harm. I needed to hear that. And I know where she's coming from. She doesn't want Mac to be fatherless like you were."

"I wasn't fatherless, Mr. Ed. I had you."

"Yes, you had me...a white man. But even I couldn't always protect you and I didn't know how to teach you the way that your own father could have."

"I don't care. You helped take care of me. That means the world to me."

"I appreciate it, Etta," he said with a warm smile. "Miss Mae just wants to do right by you. She's lived a hard life. I can't tell you how surprised she was by Viv and my kindness. No other white family treated her with such dignity. It's ashame so many Southerners like her believe that the North is so much better. We have a lot of backwardness here too. I'm glad we gave her a nice home though. And I'm glad that she got to raise you around some happiness and stability."

Loretta smiled too.

"I just wish she wasn't so blind to the obvious that's right in front of her."

"What do you mean?" she asked as she looked up at him.

"I know about you and Jamie," he said with a slight chuckle. Loretta's heart stopped when he said that.

She kept a horrified look on her face until she noticed his smile never faded.

"Jamie doesn't have the best poker face. And it was even more obvious by the way he was looking at you at the repass and end of the funeral. Also, Wanda was a bit too similar to you all the way down to having the same birthday. But Wanda was safe and white. My son isn't able to fool me, Etta. It's been obvious since you were teenagers that he liked you. I just didn't think you liked him back, but I guess I know that too now."

"You're not upset?"

"No, not at all. I'm not your mother. I want Mac to have a good father figure in his life too, but I don't mind if that happens to be my son. That's why I wanted to stop her earlier. But I know you wouldn't want me to tell her, so I stopped myself. Times are changing and I like you, Etta. You two have my blessing."

Loretta felt so warm knowing that Mr. Ed actually didn't mind her pursuing his son. She figured he could tell that he didn't like Wanda as much as he let on. Sure he cared about her, but as he said, she was safe because she was white. And it was apparent that Ed was getting attached to Mac.

"Thanks, Mr. Ed," she softly said. "I was actually thinking about moving in with him this summer."

"You're thinking about moving to Chicago?"

"Yeah, is that crazy?"

"No, not at all. I'm not gonna baby you, Etta. You're an adult woman that needs to live her life. Maybe a change in scenery is exactly what you and Mac need. I'm gonna miss little man, but I can always visit. I am retired now after all. And I know I can't stop you and my son from being together. I should have seen it coming earlier. You two were always attached at the hip. I wish Viv was here to see this too. She would be over the moon. All she ever wished for was for her son to be so happily in love and I think he is with you."

Loretta slightly giggled with joy before she asked,

"Since when has Mac started calling you 'Paw-paw'?"

"Only today. He did when you left. He called Miss Mae 'Maw-maw' now too."

"Aww. He still hasn't called me 'Ma-ma' yet."

"Give him time. It's no diss to you. I've seen how he looks at you and I see nothing but pure love. Reminds me so much of Jamie when he was a baby. The way he looked at Viv always warmed my heart."

"I hope I'm at least half the mother that Viv was."

"You already are."

Loretta smiled again.

"I still want him to know about Marvin. I guess I should show him the photo album Jamie put together."

"That's a great place to start."

"Excuse me, ma'am," the driver politely interrupted. "Is this the house?"

His question drew Loretta's attention immediately to directly in front of her and what she saw horrified her.

Her monster-in-law, Patricia, was standing outside of the family home that Marvin and her lived in. But not only that. No, there were also boxes littering the front of the house and men moving old furniture into a donation truck.

Angrily, Loretta got out of the moving truck once the driver parked it on the side the house to confront her mother-in-law. She never liked that woman and she was glad that Marvin wasn't here to stop her from speaking her mind against her now.

"Oh, there you are," Patricia remarked once she saw her daughter-in-law. She folded her arms afterwards and kept a pout on her old, wrinkled lips.

She was always a bitter woman, but considered gorgeous back in her day due to her fair skin that contrasted well with her black features.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Loretta angrily asked.

"Cleaning out our family home," the older woman responded. "I told you to get your things last week."

"I was planning your son's funeral," Loretta retorted. "I didn't have time."

"Excuses, excuses," she huffed before Loretta noticed the furniture that she bought in the back of the truck.

"That's my furniture," she exclaimed.

"It isn't anymore," Patricia rebutted. "Everything that you need to retrieve is right here. Also, I'm doing you a favor. I can't believe my son would let you buy this ugly furniture. I raised him better than that. Just get your rich white boss to replace everything for you."

Loretta's blood was boiling at that moment and before she could really process her emotions, she lunged at her mother-in-law. But luckily, Mr. Ed stopped her. He gently pulled her back before whispering,

"It isn't worth it. It isn't worth it."

Loretta immediately backed down, giving Patricia a little bit more ammo as a smug smile appeared on her face.

"Oh, speak of the devil," she said with a snicker. "You just couldn't face me without your rich white boss. Typical. You and your mother are always relying on them. It's sad really. You two really should have tried to make your own way like me and my darling Richard."

Mr. Ed was not amused.

"Patricia, we would like that furniture back."

"Oh, Edward," she started. "Now what would Vivian say? You're really gonna take from the poor and unfortunate? Don't they deserve nice, expensive, hideous furniture?"

"Patricia, we want the furniture back and we're not leaving until we get it," he sternly said. "Look, I don't want to cause any conflict, but I can have the police involved."

"Typical behavior from a privileged white man," she moaned. "Fine, you can have the furniture back. But I want you off of my property in an hour. Get everything and beat it. And I hope to never see you again after today."

"The feeling is mutual, you old bitch," Loretta huffed. "You're just mad that your precious son settled for a poor black woman like me. A poor black woman that was much too dark for your liking."

Patricia glared at her when she said that.

"Marvin could have done a lot better...I told him as such. Because I knew you didn't really love him. You never did. But he was safe...unlike Jamie Blackridge. That's why I never liked you. You just used my son like the cold bitch you are. Oh, sweetie. I'm not the bitch, you are. You always have been. You fooled my son and took him away from me..."

"That's enough, Patricia," Mr. Ed yelled. "Let us be. And don't you utter my son's name again. Trust me, we're glad to be done with you too. I can't tell you how many times I had to restrain myself from choking you. I will not let you disrespect Etta again. Also, for your information, she did love Marvin. She loved him so much that she had to get me to help pay for his funeral which you and your kin didn't even help to pitch in."

Patricia was furious, but finally admitted defeat and left in her Bentley coup, leaving them with the moving truck driver and the donation truck workers.

Loretta immediately started crying afterwards, falling into Mr. Ed's arms as he tried to comfort her.

"It's alright. She's gone and you don't ever have to see her again. She's always been a bitter old bitch."

"I know, Mr. Ed. But I just wish I would have stood up for myself on my own."

"Loretta, you did stand up for yourself. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Mr. Ed," she softly said as she hugged him again.

Mr. Ed let the donation truck workers keep the furniture per Loretta's request after she thought it through. And once they left, they took all of the boxes and put it in the moving truck.

But there was one more box that was hidden from their view that the driver noticed. Loretta went to get it and noticed that on top of the pile of stuff was an old wedding picture.

The glass had unfortunately cracked, leaving a long split between her and Marvin in the photo. But the glass remained intact on the other side where Ed was standing next to her.

It was a photo they took at the reception. Ed insisted on taking a picture with the happy couple alone after Loretta and Mr. Ed took their pictures with him as a group.

Loretta quickly obliged, much to Marvin's dismay.

She couldn't help but smile at the picture though. Ed was just too cute, smiling brighter than her. She knew he wished he was in Marvin's shoes at the time, but he was still happy for her.

"Something wrong," Mr. Ed asked as he walked up behind her.

"No. I just had a moment," she said before she handed the frame to him. "Look at your son."

The senior laughed.

"He was quite jealous," he started. "I could see it in his eyes. But he kept a straight face the whole time. He really was happy for you though. But then again, he was always a fan of seeing you smile."

"So you've known this for longer than you let on?"

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," he cooed. "But I think the Lord has a sense of humor. Strange that the glass only cracked here."

"Yeah, it surprised me too."

"Well, we can reflect on it more later," he said as he put the picture back and took the box. "We gotta go pick up Malcolm and head back. I know Jamie will be dying to talk to you after his big meeting."

Loretta only smiled in response.

---

I tag @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky, @eclecticwildflowers, and @writingkitten

[imtrashraccoon]

Thanks for the tag @snowcoffeee ! I'm all too happy to talk about my favourite hobby!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

At the moment, I have six.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

281,816. Yikes, I didn't even know this was a statistic until now.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just Undertale right now.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Have Some Empathy, Dear - the series I did for Bad Sansuary.

The Hand We've Been Dealt - the first fic I posted on AO3.

Swarmed By Sirens - the most recent fic I'm working on.

The Nightmare of Apathy - my pet project.

Raccoon's Undertale Related Oneshots - this one shouldn't really count as it's just a collection of my works.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Every single one! I really enjoy engaging with the people who like my work and it gives me ideas.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oof, I don't like angsty endings so I can't say that I have any. In the past, I wrote a oneshot with one of my OC's in Horrortale though. That was...angsty. It's also really bad compared to what I write now lol. I don't think I'll ever post it.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

At the moment, Have Some Empathy, Dear is the only complete fic. So that one.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, at least I haven't yet. I did get one comment ages ago where someone was annoyed that Korinna (MC from The Hand We've Been Dealt) just went to live with the Fell brothers after they killed her when she was a human. She didn't know that it was them though, so the comment didn't make sense? Admittedly, the plot for that fic is a bit weak...

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nah, I've been tempted to, but I'm not comfortable making that sort of thing. I allow minors to follow me anyways, so if I did, that would have to change.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

AU's don't count as a crossover I suppose. So, no, I don't write crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I'd be honoured if anyone wanted to!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Again, no. I have chatted with friends about fic plots but never for the purpose of creating something together. That could be fun!

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

I'm more of a self-shipper and pretty much always have been OC x Canon as well. I do like Soriel. The way some people write their dynamic is adorable and even if they aren't in a relationship, I love seeing their friendship. I don't really ship anything else though.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Pretty much everything with my old Undertale OC's and my old Star Wars OC. My reasons are that I've changed my interests and created better characters now. I'm not entirely opposed to ever posting these online but the state that they're in at the moment makes me cringe.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Definitely describing environments and worldbuilding. I have a strong imagination and so whenever I write a scene I try to put myself in the character's position and describe what they see. Worldbuilding is also enjoyable since it gets my brain working.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue. I struggle to make characters sound natural at times and my earlier writing suffers lot from stiff dialogue.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I love this! I don't really know any other languages myself so my own attempts are limited, however I love seeing it in other people's works. I do like to include ASL where I can since it's a language I have some familiarity with.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars actually. I had a Jedi turned Sith character in a years long message board roleplay and multiple times I attempted to write down a backstory for her but I never finished. After being convinced to join the Sith, she was an Inquisitor for a bit before being promoted to Sith Lady and training a few apprentices. She briefly became Sith Empress but stepped down when the war with a faction of Mandalorians turned ugly. She hasn't been seen or heard from since... Yeah, no, I just lost interest in the character and SW in general with Disney's takeover.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

I love pretty much all of them! I think my favourite is Have Some Empathy, Dear but I do wish I had more time to flesh parts of it out at the time. Otherwise, it's The Nightmare of Apathy.

[sarcasticdolphin]

20 Questions for Writers

@ligercat didn't tag me but I decided to do this

❣️How many works do you have on AO3?

54 (47 plus 7 on Anon at the moment).

❣️What is your total AO3 word count?

475932

❣️What fandoms do you write for?

Elisabeth das Musical, House of the Dragon, and Harry Potter are the fandoms I have major WIP actively in work for, but I also have a few one-off fics in other fandoms as well.

❣️What are your top five fics by kudos?

Second Conquest

"Butterfly's Wing"

"Four Dragons"

"The Red Queen"

"Promise (You'll Teach Me)"

Or for those that are curious as to the answer if I only consider Elisabeth fics:

The Drabble fic

Chimes at Midnight

The Needs of the Many

"Smoking Mirror"

"Into Darkness, I Fall"

❣️Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes - it sometimes takes a bit for me to respond, but even if it is just a simple 'thank you' I always want to thank people for their kind comments.

❣️What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Most of my complete fics tend to have endings that are tragic or tinged with tragedy, but nothing is really coming to mind - often the angst is earlier in the fic.

❣️What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Maybe "The Red Queen." But even that is very much a matter of POV. I just tend to write lots of tragic endings.

❣️Do you get hate on your fic?

Every once in a while. Mostly related to the HotD Green/Black divide. Once on something else.

❣️Do you write smut?

When the story calls for it. I don't write PWP, and honestly most of the time the smut is is only rated M and quite glossed over - the characters' mental states are usually much more important than the physical act itself.

❣️Do you write crossovers?

Every once in a while.

❣️Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

❣️Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of.

❣️Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes, and it was a good experience at the time. Due to some subsequent events I don't know if I would again, though. Perhaps in time.

❣️What's your all-time favorite ship?

The Corruptor/the person they are corrupting. Fandoms may change but that tends to stay the same.

❣️What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Well I have one WIP that is from a fandom I am no longer a part of and can pretty definitely say I'll never be going back to, so it will be unfinished forever, but other than that I don't want to jix any current WIPs.

❣️What are your writing strengths?

In the words of others: Imagery, Irony, Ending Twists, and a sort of Darkly Poetic Style that is my signature.

❣️What are your writing weaknesses?

Typos. I hate editing to much to clear them all out and so a few always sneak through.

❣️Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I usually only do it when I'm quoting original song lyrics.

❣️First fandom you wrote for?

[Redacted] Fandom that I am no longer in and will never go back to. If you looked at my Ao3 then it looks like Elisabeth.

❣️Favorite fic you've ever written?

Hmmmm. If I have to nail myself down to one then it might well be "Enlightenment," but ugh I adore so many of them that if I started listing many more I'd just list half my fics. Ornithology, depending on how things go, might end up being able to unseat "Enlightenment." And I have such a soft spot for my beloved Mirrorverse.

I'm not going to tag anyone, though if you wish to do the ask then consider yourself tagged :)

[masterwords]

a fine line

This WIP has been sitting in my drafts forever waiting for...something. And I don't have that something, so it's just here. Hotch's injuries after Perotta should have been a little more extensive, and I can't be held responsible for putting Morgan in a situation to help him out. (2.2k messy, pointless, choppy and unedited words)

**

“Aaron?” Haley asked, swiping her hand over the once warm place he'd occupied in their bed. It was rumpled enough that she knew he had come to bed. Later than her, she'd been there hours before he came home, and now he was gone again. “Aaron?”

Silence. At first, but after a moment she could hear him in the bathroom. The shower was running, hot steam filtering slowly beneath the door. She thought about getting up, checking on him, but it was 4am. He was probably being called in and he hated to be bothered while he got ready for work. There was a certain routine he insisted on in order to prepare himself for the work he would have to do, the things he would have to stomach, the pieces of his soul he would have to guard. He had to set his mind right, block out everything that made him human.

They had argued plenty over it. She only wanted to help, to make him coffee or breakfast, help him in some way. Be part of it instead of always being on the outside. But she couldn't, and at a certain point she stopped trying. So, with one fearful glance at the closed bathroom door, she lay back down and pushed her face beneath the covers to go back to sleep. His side of the bed smelled like him and she would have to be content with that for now.

Jack woke while he attempted to drink a cup of coffee. Just a diaper change and a bottle, both of them managed to stay entirely silent so Haley could stay sleeping. It was both the most and the least he could do in his condition. Jack was a baby, he didn't need conversation, he needed action.

He managed to slip out of the house before she woke again, his starched and stiff collar high on his neck, tie pulled tight. The bruises, Perotta's marks, had deepened in the hours since the junkyard. His neck was flooded nearly black with bruises, one deep red pressure cut slicing through the middle garish and mad. Walking from his car to the front door, his mouth filled with saliva and the thought of swallowing it nearly brought tears to his eyes. He'd been spitting into a cup for the last few hours, the swelling in his throat finally reaching the point that swallowing was nearly out of the question. But he couldn't spit into a coffee cup in front of Quantico so he forced himself to swallow and nearly cried for the pain of it. His grip on the coffee cup tightened while he rode the elevator, while the saliva once again built up with nowhere to go but down or out. If he wasn't careful, he'd be sick, and then he'd really be in for it.

Gritting his teeth, he made his way from the elevator to his office without more than a good morning wave at the few people who were in earlier than he was. They probably had actual work to do, he was just hiding his injury from his wife. Home only long enough to sleep for a couple of hours. She wasn't going to understand this one, not with a new baby at home. It was a miracle he'd managed to come home and leave without Jack crying and waking Haley, and he knew he couldn't do it again.

He would have to find a way to make it seem better than it was.

The hum of the fan in his office was calming. His heart beat in time with its quiet rhythm and he popped the top off of the coffee cup to spit inside, praying no one would come and witness it. He was lucky, just barely got the lid back on before Gideon sped by with a quick glance and a wave. Anyone else and they might have stopped to chat, but even if Gideon had figured him out, seen what he was doing, he doubted very much that he would stop and inquire. Close call. He set the coffee cup on his desk and settled into his seat. There had to be something he could do to entertain his mind, focus him on something other than the strangling pain in his throat.

Garcia showed up with donuts, the giant pink box filling her arms to the brim. Maple bars, pink sprinkles, chocolate, all the classics. His stomach growled just thinking about that glazed blueberry cake donut right there in front. She was holding the box open and indicating it, like she'd picked it out just for him. “Sir?” she asked, curious at the look of desire on his features but his lack of motion. “The blueberry one is most definitely for you. The last one they had.”

He'd already attempted talking, just to himself in the car, and there was no way he could do it without coming under instant scrutiny. His voice was strangely crushed sounding, gruff and breathy, air through a bent straw. So he just smiled and reached out for the donut, placing it on the napkin she'd put on the desk for him and trying to force the words “Thank you” out as quickly and evenly as he could. She caught it, just briefly, but didn't know him well enough to say anything. He was intimidating enough with his frown set, that deep crease between his eyebrows that told her not now, maybe not ever...so she smiled at him and closed the box.

“You are ever so welcome, sir,” she said a little quieter, a little more serious before turning and leaving. Maybe she would talk to Derek, he seemed to be the only one who ever talked to Hotch with any sort of confidence. Sometimes it was uncomfortable to watch, the way he stood up to Hotch's orders, questioned them either in public or in private, but there was something there. Some mutual respect or admiration, so when he did that...Hotch listened. He may not always side with Derek when all was said and done, but he would always give Derek the floor and to Garcia that spoke volumes. So, with her box of donuts, she made the rounds until she ended at his desk.

“Hey, you,” she said, leaning against his desk. “You want some sugar?”

“Not during office hours, hun,” he replied, swirling around in his chair and waggling his eyebrows at her. “Ohhh you got maple bars!”

“Nuh-uh, that last one is for boss man's afternoon snack. You know how he gets when he has meetings through the lunch hour...I got you the chocolate with sprinkles.”

Derek scrunched his nose and frowned, but in the end he only shrugged it off and grabbed the chocolate frosted donut gladly. Any donut was better than no donut. In truth, he doubted very much that Hotch would feel like eating that or any donut after the junkyard but Garcia didn't know that, she didn't watch it happen. He was waiting for the right time to approach him about it, and watching Gideon breeze past Hotch's office told him that time hadn't come yet. If Gideon didn't think it appropriate, he would wait too.

Until Garcia opened her mouth. She leaned forward and in a hushed whisper that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, she spoke. “I don't think he's okay,” she started, flicking one finger against a crumb of frosting stuck in the corner of Derek's lips. “Can you check on him? Please?”

“Babygirl,” he sighed, shoving the last bite of the donut he'd made very short work of into his mouth. “If he's in bad shape after last night, he'll wanna be left alone for a while. He's here in the office, that's something.”

“Not enough,” she huffed indignantly, pushing the giant box at Derek's chest. One final donut remained. “Take this up to him later. That's your excuse.” He rolled his eyes but there was no telling that woman no, so he agreed. He'd go up in a bit, give Hotch time to settle into his day. Curiously, he clicked around until he was in Hotch's schedule, he had full access to it as his lead, as his former partner, and usually all he did was add things to it but slowly he poked around finding things he could pull off instead. A consult here, a deposition request there, until his schedule looked light enough that they might have time for a chat in a bit. Sure, Derek had his own work to do, but Elle and Spencer didn't look too busy so he was able to pass things on down the line.

“Hey, Hotch, you got a minute?” Derek asked, just after the lunch hour, after an entire day of tooling around without seeing Hotch leave his office one time. Not even for a quick bathroom break. Hotch nodded and slipped his hand around the coffee cup on his desk, sliding it out of the way. As if Derek wouldn't immediately notice the shift, the slight movement, and frown.

“You go to the doctor like Gideon told you to?”

Hotch glowered, his eyebrows dangerously close together. “No,” he rasped, his hand immediately flying to his throat without any thought. The sharp burst of pain at the first word he'd spoken since thanking Garcia was shocking and if he'd been standing, he might have found himself more than a little weak in the knees. Derek didn't need any other evidence before shutting the door behind him and entering Hotch's office completely.

“Let me see.”

He set the maple bar down beside the untouched blueberry donut and came around Hotch's desk, leaning his hips there casually. He reached out slowly, and backed up just a little when he caught the slightest hint of a flinch, like he was afraid. It was gone as fast as it came, and if Derek was anyone else he might blurt something out, mention it, but Derek had experience. He'd been there through others, he'd held his hand in the ambulance after Bale, he understood deeply. So he pressed forward until his lithe fingers tugged gently at the knot in the tie, loosening it just enough that he could unbutton the stiff collar on his shirt. Immediately he found himself faced with a sight he wasn't prepared for, the brutality of it immense. He ached to go back in time, the pressure of the gun in his hands, a direct line of sight to Perotta's forehead. One bullet, right between the eyes, and this damage might not be so bad.

But this was his failure. He listened to Gideon, and he let this happen. “Hotch,” he whispered, his fingers lightly dancing over the other man's jaw, trying to get a view of each angle. “I'm so sorry. I shoulda shot that bastard. I had him in my sights.”

“You did...” Hotch rasped and Derek shook his head, pressing his thumbs lightly around Hotch's adams apple just to see. He had some limited EMT training from his days with Chicago PD, and he was rusty but it was better than the nothing Hotch was willing to consent to outside of this office. The swelling was obvious, he could feel it with barely any pressure. “Gideon's orders.”

Derek scoffed. It was a little louder than he intended and he saw the corner of Hotch's lips tick upward in a small attempt at a smile. Derek loved Gideon in his own way, but he didn't like him much tehse days and he certainly didn't trust his judgment. Maybe he hadn't since Boston. “Yeah, well...”

“It's okay Derek.”

“No, it's not,” Derek said quieter, lifting Hotch's jaw to feel beneath the sharp angles. Hotch didn't fight him, didn't move a muscle. Breathing hurt enough that he was on the verge of tears with every swallow, every breath in, so arguing with Derek felt more than a little out of the question.

“Alright. Alright, I'll stop beating myself up if you stop talking...deal?”

Hotch kept up his end of the bargain, but Derek did not. He couldn't let it go. Slowly, carefully, he opened Hotch's collar the rest of the way and told him to wait a moment. Out and back in a flash, straight to the freezer for an ice pack and a cup of ice chips, then the door was closed once again. The ice pack was rested gently against his neck, against the worst of the bruises, and he let Derek hold it there for just a minute before Hotch took it in his own hand and breathed frigid relief against the cooling of his fevered skin.

“Haley must not know yet, huh? Otherwise I doubt you'd be here right now...”

Hotch couldn't help smirking and shrugging, met with only a nod of understanding.

Derek nudged the cup of crushed ice and the spoon in Hotch's direction with a smirk. “Betcha skipped breakfast...and lunch.”

Ice chips. He was starving and Derek had ice chips for him. “You want me to run out for some ice cream or something? I could use a reason to get outta here.”

Hotch smiled and nodded, still not eager to talk. Derek doesn't need him to say a word, but before he left Hotch pushed both donuts in Derek's direction. Getting to have the coveted maple bar didn't feel quite as good now, not while he was sitting here in Hotch's office being given the strangest silent treatment of his life. The first time he'd ever demanded it. But he did enjoy those donuts while he sat there in silence thinking about putting a bullet in Perotta's skull.

Right between the eyes. Pow.

[marvelandponder]

💖 📥 🖊 🌝 📝 🤔 💻 💭

Hahaha! You're going all in, huh? Thanks for the interest! Fanfic Ask Game! I'll save the snippet for last so it can live after a cut! 💖 What do you like most about your own writing? Answered this one but since you asked, only fair to answer again! Let's see, another thing... I love when my stories have good set-up and pay-off. Bevin and I love to joke that my favourite word is consequences - it's so satisfying when you get to see little seeds grow into something bigger, or something from earlier on be recontextualized into something new! Timber sure is Sunset's new best friend :D

📥 What is your fave fic to receive comments/messages on? Currently, Empathy for the Devil, since it's the most recently released and Bevin and I worked the hardest on it. But that answer's probably gonna change when we start releasing The Ex Files, so I guess whatever's most recent! 🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to? Also answered, but again, only fair to give you a different answer! Someone else I'd love to write for is probably Pinkie. She's so fun and great when I've written her as a non-perspective character, I'm real excited to write in her POV! 📝 What is one growth area you have for your writing? Scene vs. summary! I actually tend towards a lot of scene, but don't summarize spans of time very often I've also been working on subtlety in my show vs tell. I'm trying to play around with language more since it didn't really come naturally to me as much as dialogue did! 🤔 What is the hardest part of writing fic? Answered, but I bet I've got another one! Perfectionism. Sometimes, that's with the prose itself. Now, it's just being satisfied with the number of hours I get to spend writing per week. It's still a ton, but I have to fight the perfectionism demon who lives in my basement. He's a nasty one 💻 Do you do research for your fics? What’s the deepest dive you’ve done? I do! I was researching little things just this morning! The deepest dive has maybe been reading actual research papers on brain chemistry cross-referenced with the Greek forms of love. Ironically, what the characters techno-babble about in that story (which also involved mechanical engineering) is way less researched than the thematic stuff! The Ex Files is gonna be a really fun time! 💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work? Aww, I like this question! It's actually a tough one because I usually end up writing my headcanons into stories, so it's tough not to give away too many spoilers. Here's a small one: Sunset came out to see Timber sometime after Empathy. They hung out and had a besties weekend watching too many sitcoms, and ended up bonding over a really embarrassing one from like the 80s. It's their show now. 🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

Loathing. Unadulterated loathing is what it was.

“He thinks he’s so great,” Sunset grumbled into her punch, “...just because he kind of is. What an asshole.”

“Is he actually? You think he’s secretly a big dumb jerkface?”

“No,” Sunset sighed, disappointed. She had her arms folded save for the cup of punch in her left hand. “I’ve been scoping him out ever since camp. I know he’s clear of Equestrian magic and all, but I wanted to see if he was really as good as he seems for Twilight. And the fucker’s as big of a dork as he seems. Who’s like that? Drives me nuts.”

“You too?” Flash slapped his chest. “Oh wow, I thought it was just me! I’ve been getting weird vibes off that guy since we met him!”

More specifically, since canoeing lessons out on the lake when Timber’s shirt got wet and he pulled the sopping wet fabric off revealing a pristine six pack. Worthy of a fitness magazine, probably even better than what Flash had… once. Flash couldn’t stop staring the whole time they were out on the water, and it made Timber’s whole Charming, Able to Socialize With Everyone All the Time Super Easily routine that much more aggravating. 

Sunset really looked at him as if she hadn’t quite noticed there was anything in the room except Timber Spruce. “Dude, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously! I hate that guy!”

Sunset lit up. “He’s the worst!” 

They clinked their plastic cups together. 

“Oh my god, okay, I’m not crazy here! I hate Timber and his stupid, perfect, handsome⁠—”

“What?”

“What?” 

Sunset stared at him, interested all of the sudden. More so than she’d been in a long time. He didn’t entirely feel like he was in on the joke, and he was almost nervous the longer she looked him over. She smiled that halfway smile of hers. “I missed you, dude.” 

 “Missed you, too.” He nudged her shoulder with his drink hand. He didn’t want that to sound like a come on, because it wasn’t, so he said the dumbest thing that came to mind (which also happened to be the first). “Good for you, moving on. Kind of, I guess. I didn’t know you had a thing for Twilight.”

Sunset’s eyes seized open and she shoved her hand over his mouth, shuffling the both of them over to the side of the room, landing them in front of the buffet table with all the fancy stuff his mom set out. She threw a glance over her shoulder and then shushed him again for good measure. “Dude! Not so loud!”

“O-oh! Okay, yeah, sorry,” he came down to her vocal level, and her height, caught up in her conspiracy. “It’s just. Seems kind of obvious. You know, with the whole⁠—” He would have gestured to all of her, but that wasn’t accurate. Just difficult to make a hand gesture to the numbered going on countless little nervous tics that Sunset once had around him that she’d been rocking around Twilight now. So he gestured to all of her. “Thing you do.”

That was unfair, and he knew it. Could have been twenty different things, especially to anybody not in the know. He just had insider information. 

“Yeah? Well, nobody else knows, okay? And I’m trying really hard to keep it that way.” While checking her back to see if anybody would overhead, Sunset got distracted with Twilight laughing nervously across the room and Timber swinging an arm over her shoulders. She grimaced. “She’s happy. And she worked really hard to get there. She deserves it. They both do, I guess, so I don’t want to be the one to ruin that.”

“Uh-huh, of course.” Flash’s eyebrows lifted. “But, it’s killing you not to go Old Sunset on their asses, huh?”

Sunset scrubbed her eyes and muffled a moan that mimicked a sob in her the palms of her hands. 

He clapped her shoulder and picked up a plate of pre-cut cake to offer out to her. “I think this one is chocolate.”