#i didn't know what to choose so i went for a bit of a wip i rly like?? if you'd like a different treat lemme know please

[advestager]

trick or treat!

do mythology daydreams count as halloween costumes? they do now

[elysian-edu]

the pink bows you wore. . . (WIP)

a/n: this is a work in progress.. it's been a lil bit since i posted smt, and i can't really figure out an ending yet soooo lmk what u think.😭🙈

synopsis: after a fatal accident, the memories of your lover seemed to have faded.

cw: character-color-trope, angst/hurt w barely any comfort, fem reader, tighnari x readerrr, i've never written for him before so bare with me please🙏🏾

a/n pt2: TY TO MY MUTUALS WHO HELPED ME CHOOSE!! @mwahkazu & @sl-vega 🫶🏾

TIGHNARI had never been so distraught as he sat at your hospital-bed side. His ears were dropped, his eyes a little puffy and red, it seemed like he'd just finished crying for the nth time this week.

as you laid there, all he was left with was his thoughts, and the occasional beep of the heart monitor; which seemed to ease his worries a tiny bit. at least he knows you're alive.

if someone were to ask him what happened, all he could say was "an accident."

"an accident?" he'd say to no one in particular when the interaction was done, and he was once again alone.

more like tragedy, he thought, face palming himself. even though it had been a week, he could remember the incident like it was yesterday.

"'nari!!" you exclaimed, waving at him from the top of the akademiya stairs. you were visiting because of an event for former students, and you decided to bring him as you plus one.

he greeted you with his usual smile, waving right back at you.

as you ran down the stairs to greet him officially, all you could hear was a "watch out!" before you were falling.

falling. it was all you could register before the world went black.

he couldn't stop thinking about it. you falling, and him not being able to run fast enough to catch you.

the wounds on your head were fatal, was one of the only things he remembered from the doctor's report about your condition.

he couldn't help but blame himself for them, even though it was his fault.

if i was faster, maybe i could've caught her, he thinks, feeling like he was going to cry again.

he then sighed, shaking his head. he knows you wouldn't want him thinking like that but he can't help it.

you looked so pretty up there with your sun-dress and pink bows tangled in your hair and around your outfit.

your smile was bright like the sun, you looked so happy till it happened.

the bows nestled ever-so-gently in his hand were the only things that gave him an ounce of hope.

hope that you'd wake up, and that you'd forget this thing even happened.

and he'd happily place them back in your hair.

but it seems that fate had other plans for him.

you groaned, opening your eyes, and slowly blinking to adjust to the dim hospital light.

you felt a slight pain in your head as you lifted your head up to see something—or rather someone on your bed.

who is this?, you thought, and decided to speak up. you coughed to get his attention.

"um, who are you?" your voice was hoarse, and some parts of the sentence came out a bit higher in tone than you liked it.

when the stranger looked up at you, he looked like he'd seen a ghost.

to your dismay, he didn't answer you question, and immediately rushed out the room.

you sat there and blinked, until the door opened again, and a person who you presumed was a doctor, and the stranger walked in again.

in the course of a few minutes you were bombarded with questions from the doctor, which you tried to answer to the best of your ability.

the stranger seemed to know most of the answers better than you. like "what's your name," birthday, etc.

it didn't bother you that much though, since your were supposedly waking up from a coma, and you didn't really feel like going the extra mile to recall details.

when the doctor finally finished their verbal analysis, they left the two of you alone.

"[name]! i can't believe you're-!" you cut him off as he engulfed you into a hug.

"uh," you started, stiffening at the sudden contact.

"i don't think you heard me but, who are you?" you finally asked, pulling away from the hug.

"what.." his voice barely above a whisper.

remember this is a WIP,, so abrupt ending for now🙈

[inkedinshadows]

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

Thank you so much @velarisdusk for the tag! 🫶🏻

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

I don't have anything published on AO3 simply because I still don't know how to use it even though I do have an account. But here on tumblr, it's 92.878

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

49! I've never counted them before and never realized just how many they were omg

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

Ongoing only Bound By Secrets. In progress apparently 10? I thought I had 3 WIPs. I completely forgot about the other 7 lol

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

UGH how do I choose one? A Helping Hand has a special place in my heart because it's the first fic I wrote and posted. Night and Days is one of my favorites because I love the banter between Azriel and reader, and I also have to mention Say My Name because omg I loved writing that one and I know I might be biased but I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

I'd say the first few things I wrote rather than one in particular for the simple reason that in Italian I tend to write very long sentences because it's normal, but in English sentences are usually shorter so it took a bit to get into that mindset. As for experimental, I'm trying to write a fic from two povs at the same time, sort of like an omniscient narrator. We'll see how it turns out.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

Many fics surprise me while writing because I don't plan them out that much other than a few things I want to happen and then I see where the story leads me. As for reception, Bound by Secrets. I didn't expect so many people asking for a part 2! (I'll write it, I promise)

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

The Path To Healing and on a happier (and smutty) note Alcohol and Giggles. I cried writing the first one and laughed writing the second one.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

I love every single fanart by madschofield and elizianna.the.one!

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

@writingcroissant was the first author I found on here, the literal reason I created an account was to read her fics, and @illyrianbitch was the second. I love everything they write and it made me want to write again.

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

@shedoessoshedoes and @duskandcobalt! I'm going to read all of your fics so don't be surprised if you see me in your notifications for the next few weeks 🥰

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start

Nope, no collaborations.

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Kinktober! I decided to do it two weeks before it started and didn't think I'd be able to write all 31 one fics but I did it!

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

When I started posting, I kept opening tumblr every five minutes to see if there were any new notes/comments/etc. Now I don't do that anymore. I still care about people enjoying my content of course and any kind of feedback is always super appreciated, but I don't need to continuously check to know that my writing is valid and good even if I get only a few likes.

14. What is your advice?

I'm the wrong person to ask this to, but I guess write what you like and what you want to read. I know it's basic, but never before I realized just how true it is. Feedback and appreciation for your work is awesome, but you have to be the first one to like it or it's probably going to turn out bland if you push yourself to write something you don't like or are not interested in.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

Finish working on all those WIPs apparently lol. And I have an idea for a series that I want to work on as well.

No pressure of course, but if you'd like to @azrielslittleslut @anarchiii @shedoessoshedoes or anyone else who wants to do it!

[masterwords]

excuse me if my feelings show

Summary: When Derek is promoted, Strauss is insistent that he have an office - and quite frankly, she would love to see Hotch in the bullpen again. Derek refuses to take anything else from Hotch, so he proposes what he thinks is a brilliant compromise: they can share the office.

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 5.2k

Warnings: Foyet arc, medical problems (anyone who knows how I write Hotch should already be expecting this anyway), swearing

Notes: After some discussions on discord, this idea wouldn't get out of my head. I know I said I was going to finish more of my WIPs that are posted, and that's still true - I have two of them that have final chapters written, they just need some editing, but this…this had to come first. It's cute. Have some cute. This is my first time in a LONG time posting a whole fic here, also. Maybe I'll do it more often?

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

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

"With all due respect, ma'am," Derek started angrily. Hotch was giving him a stern look from over her shoulder, a look that told him to back off but he wouldn't budge. He couldn't. If she was going to respect him as Unit Chief then he had to put his foot down and make a stand about things sometimes, and simply put, he was willing to die on this hill. "Hotch didn't just go AWOL. He didn't wake up one morning and decide to make sketchy judgment calls…no offense Hotch…"

"None taken," Hotch muttered under his breath, though they both knew he'd be logging that one for the future. He always did.

"In case you and the Director have forgotten, he was attacked in his home by a serial killer. I think you and I would both be pretty hard pressed to behave any differently after surviving something like that. All things considered, I think he's doing pretty damn well." He made sure to lock eyes with Hotch after that last bit, as if it might erase the memory of the comment about his judgment calls but it didn't look likely.

"Is there a point to this tirade, Agent Morgan?" Strauss looked annoyed and impatient, two things that gave Derek some small pleasure as he continued. If she wanted to push him, he could turn this into a veritable filibuster just for the hell of it, keep her locked in this bullpen hell all afternoon.

"Oh, there's a point…the office. Hotch's office. I told you before we left that I didn't want that office, that he belonged in that office. This team has been through a lot and anything we can do to keep some semblance of normalcy, I think, is worth the effort. You went behind my back and made the change anyway, violating his privacy in the process. That makes the second time in two months that he's had to endure that, and for what? I explicitly said I did not want his office."

"I outrank you, Agent Morgan." It was a warning, a clenched jaw reminder of where he stood. He didn't back down.

"Yes, ma'am, you do. But the BAU is my team, this is my space, and I should have some say in what goes on here. You shouldn't have done that without my consent and I think you know it."

Hotch watched the showdown from a careful distance behind Strauss with pride, and not just a little fear. Derek standing up to her made him feel good, made him certain now that Derek was the right choice, though she might not see it that way. She had allowed him to make the choice when she wasn't required to, she gave him the opportunity to save his team before sweeping changes came down from above but she could so easily sideline them both and bring someone of her own choosing in if she felt like she was being undermined. There was a careful balance to stick here and Hotch watched with a knot in his stomach while the two stared each other down, each searching for the upperhand…or simply the easiest way out of a stalemate.

"Morgan," Hotch said when the silence had gone on just a beat too long. He had no patience for the politics of this job and he would shut it down with whatever authority he had remaining. "I'll take your old desk. It's okay."

"No it isn't. I already had Garcia move your things back into your office. We'll share, if you don't mind. I'll stay because I agree, the team leader should have an office with a door that closes for privacy in situations that require it, but I won't kick you out of your space. This is temporary, after all."

Strauss cleared her throat. "You both keep saying that, but the truth is…there is no way to tell, is there? You may never catch Foyet, this situation may become permanent. The sooner you both come to terms with that the better. Share an office if you must, but don't come complaining to me when the realities of sharing an office rear their ugly heads. And please remember…you share the office, not the job. Anything else?"

"No ma'am, that's all. Thank you." Derek always knew how and when to close. He would have liked to give her a bit more hell over that last comment, as if the two of them were conspiring against her or in cahoots in some nefarious plot to overtake the Bureau, but he bit his tongue and that was that. The two men watched her as she turned and walked away, toward her own office, and waited until she was out of sight before they looked at one another and breathed a sigh of relief in unison. "Well I think that went pretty good, huh?"

"You're on thin ice," Hotch replied with a smirk. Derek didn't seem to care much, a trait that would serve him well as they embarked on this new adventure. "Where did she have my things moved?"

"Who, Strauss? Some dusty old office down the hall that's being used for storage. Garcia found three boxes of your things stuffed in a corner beside some old copiers and a busted fax machine. Anderson helped her bring them back up."

"Figures."

The two of them spent the morning in their new shared space unpacking boxes and trying to figure out how to make it work. With only one desk, that would be tricky, but Hotch said he was fine with making the couch his primary workspace because the team leader should be the one sitting behind a desk. "Like it or not," he'd said as Derek argued with him for the eighth time that day over minor details like where to keep the stapler or the extra box of pens (because Derek had a habit of chewing the caps and Hotch had always been more than a little picky about using a chewed up pen), "there is an image that needs to be upheld when you're in a team dynamic. You were once their partner, now you're their leader, and they need to see the difference. Just like they need to see the difference in my position. I really should be down in the bullpen with them."

"Not a chance, Hotch. This isn't a promotion, it's a placeholder."

"You deserve to have your own team and I doubt anyone is going to see it any differently going forward. Your name is going to end up on a lot of short lists for openings."

"I'm happy right where I am."

Hotch hummed and pulled the lid off of the last box, one full of framed photos and marksmanship awards. He made a soft, almost pained sound of distress as he pulled the final frame from the box - the glass shattered in a jagged star shape over Jack's tiny fingerprints in the shape of a butterfly. The sight of it took his breath away and it took every ounce of dignity he had at his disposal not to cry right there on the spot. It wouldn't be the first time Derek watched him break down, but he really couldn't afford it right now.

"What is it?" Derek asked, noting the shift in the mood of the room instantly. He stood at the desk and peered over, eyes catching quickly on the shattered glass in Hotch's lap. Fuck it all, he thought. Of course a piece of glass was easy enough to replace but that wasn't the damn point…he'd sent his family into protective custody just weeks before, and this little memento was what he had left of Jack…and Strauss' bullshit had jeopardized it. "Did the paper rip?"

"A little," Hotch said, his voice tight. "It's fine."

"No, dammit, it's not fine."

"Morgan, you can't go wage a war with Strauss over this. It isn't worth it."

"Not worth it? That's all you've got left of your kid, dammit." Derek was filled with immediate regret, his voice raised an octave too high for the somber tone of the office as he spit some of the cruelest words he thought had ever come out of his mouth. Hotch flinched and Derek felt even worse. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Obviously that's not all…he's all good out there with Haley…it's just…she had no right taking your stuff down and look what happened."

"I can get a new frame," was Hotch's reply, his voice still quiet and too tight. Derek waved his arms helplessly, frustrated and nearing the end of his rope.

"That isn't the damn point and you know it."

"I know. And I appreciate your concern, I do, but you can't go burning bridges with her on my behalf." Hotch set the frame down gingerly and went back to the other boxes at his feet, no longer wanting to hold it, or even to see it. Derek's righteous indignation over the art had hit him square in the chest.

Derek pulled out his phone and turned on some music for them to listen to for the rest of the morning, unpacking boxes and organizing drawers and filing cabinets until they finally had a system they thought was workable. He put on The Beatles just for Hotch, because he needed a win. Derek could sit through John Lennon's nasal whining for an album or two.

It wasn't like this was the first time they'd worked in close quarters. Before the BAU moved up to the 6th floor, they shared a cramped space in the basement with hissing pipes that kept the office about ten degrees warmer than most people's ideal working conditions. Hotch happened to love it and when they moved up above ground, he snagged one of the old space heaters from storage and kept it stashed under his desk. It left the smell of ancient cooked dust in the office when he turned it on full blast, pumping heat out against his shins from beneath the desk, but no one bothered him about it as long as they didn't see it.

The thing was definitely a fire hazard. Derek remembered making a comment about the way it smelled, the phenomenon of the forever dusty interior. No matter how often it was run, it always managed to smell like it had been in storage for a century.

Derek had already moved it from its hiding place, stashing it in a crevice near the couch so Hotch could pull it out and use it when he needed it. Derek didn't mind the extra warmth but he definitely didn't need it. He was used to the smell after nearly a year of Hotch running it in their little basement room once the pipe situation was fixed, and used to the way Hotch did things in general. They found a way to work around each other when their systems didn't quite match up, and he hoped that they could settle back into that routine without any trouble this time around. Each of them had their own peculiarities when it came to their spaces and it had worked at one time, it should work again.

Hotch would be lying if he'd said he hadn't been lonely when he was forced to vacate his desk in the bullpen, moving into this office where there was no one to visit with all day. No one to joke with or complain to. Derek had missed him then and he thought it was entirely possible when this came to an end and the shared office separated again he would feel the same. This time, at least, they had a bigger and closer team - it would be less of a blow to his system, but it would still hurt.

Hotch showed up earlier than Derek most days and had the office to himself for an hour or two every morning, but he was forbidden to stay later on principal. Derek was the Unit Chief, therefore, he should be the last one out the door. He relinquished the first one in the door simply because he didn't see any reason to try and beat a man who didn't sleep to the early bird spot.

Hotch often found himself coming back anyway, hours later, preferring to sleep on the stiff old couch over his lonely apartment.

His office wasn't haunted by the memory of Foyet straddling him in a pool of blood. The office wasn't an homage to everything he'd lost.

Derek knew Hotch was sleeping there, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. It was none of his business, really. That was the long and short of it.

He would creep in early so he could hit the gym before work, and if Hotch was asleep on the couch, he simply kicked his go bag and briefcase inside the door and shut it again. It was likely that Hotch heard him, he wasn't exactly a deep sleeper, but he didn't get up immediately.

Derek also knew that his sleep was inconsistent at best. He could see it in the bags under his eyes, in the deep purple crescents that made him look bruised and sore. He'd lost a lot of blood in Foyet's attack and as Reid so often loved to point out, that has a lasting effect on the body. It takes a while to recover from that. Hotch wasn't exactly on the fast track, not sleeping and barely eating.

The first week they shared an office, they were almost like ships in the night. Derek was being pulled into meetings with people he'd never met before, people he would prefer to have kept that way. Budget meetings, HR meetings, safety meetings. You name it, they had a meeting for it and they were slamming his calendar to high hell. No wonder Hotch kept them well-stocked with cases, he was running from the endless onslaught of meetings that could easily have just been emails. He needed a break from all of the talking, all of the justifications, all of the begging for money and the explaining what exactly it is his team is good for again.

After things settled a bit, they found that they were together more often and working in quiet camaraderie like old times. Occasionally one would make a comment aloud, a comment that might strike up a rapid-fire conversation just to add a little life to the stifling air around them, and then they would settle back into amiable silence. Derek was settling into his role as resident paper pusher, and Hotch was loosening his grip on things he never should have been doing in the first place. The team wasn't loving the dynamic shift and the increase in their paperwork load but if Hotch was adamant about one thing, it was that Derek didn't fall into the same traps he had.

This was a temporary situation in theory, but if it became permanent the last thing Hotch would ever want is to see Derek's life trickle away and be consumed in the way his own had.

"I like this," Derek said one morning as he walked into the office freshly showered after a couple of hours in the gym. Hotch looked like he'd been there all night, rooted to the spot. He'd just put away Foyet's files, stuffed them back into his briefcase before Derek walked in. "It's kinda like still being in the bullpen, but with more privacy."

Hotch concurred in silence - he had a splitting headache after spending all night awake looking for any sign of Foyet's whereabouts through a series of intense internet searches that always came up empty. He knew they were going to be fruitless, Foyet was a master at hiding and sneaking around in shadows, but it was at the point now that he had no choice, he had to do it. It was bordering on obsession, or possibly even a compulsion. He typed the same words into the search bar in the same order every single night at least three or four times before he was satisfied. Before pulling out the paper files and hunting for new information, something he might have missed.

"You really should have your own space," Hotch said, looking up from the file he was browsing. He had a stack of consults from JJ and a stomach ache, a truly glorious combination for the morning. While sharing an office with Derek was going well, he found he missed the privacy to suffer in peace. Derek was always so cheerful in the morning. "People are going to want to talk to you in private."

"Whatever they need to say to me, they can say in front of you."

"That is only going to fly for a while, Derek. Eventually my role on this team will be reduced back to Lead Profiler and there will be no overlap between us. Strauss has already made it very clear that we do not share the job."

"Good thing I'm not ready for that yet."

"I believe you are."

They agreed to disagree on the topic for the time being, though Hotch preferred to think about it as him deferring to Derek's leadership. That was what he did now. In many ways, it was a comfort knowing that Derek was in charge. That Derek had his back and that he could relax, at least to some degree. He could focus on his own priorities knowing that Derek would take care of the team.

Hotch was grateful. So grateful. Derek didn't have to accept this hasty promotion, he didn't have to do anything he was doing. It wasn't his responsibility to take on Hotch's life as everything fell apart and it certainly wasn't his job to put any of it back together. Yet here he was. No matter how Derek downplayed it, the magnitude was not lost on Hotch.

But Hotch's gratitude was beginning to grate on Derek little by little. He wasn't doing anyone a favor, he was doing the right thing. It wasn't just for Hotch it was for all of them. It was because he believed in what they did and he believed in the people they had.

Derek turned on his music when it was clear that Hotch was in a sour mood, and while he kept the volume relatively low, he didn't put on his headphones. Normally he would, he just didn't want to. He had no way of knowing that Hotch's headache was splitting his skull in two and the repetitive beats of Nas were about to drive him way past his limits, all he knew was that he needed music in order to work and he couldn't spend one more minute listening to The Beatles.

Hotch, no matter his discomfort, wouldn't say anything. This was Derek's office now in spite of the fact that they were sharing it. This was his space and he was allowing Hotch to continue using it when he didn't have to, so instead of complaining about the music that was slowly killing him, he scooped up his files and his coffee mug and headed for the door in a hurry. The looping beats were suddenly making him feel very, very sick.

"You headed out?" Derek asked. Hotch grunted.

"I'm going to sit outside and get some fresh air."

Derek recognized that as code for Hotch having a headache, a fact that wasn't alarming in the least. He'd needed a lot of afternoons of fresh air when they were stuffed into the basement office. The man was prone to intense bouts of insomnia and high levels of stress, both of which offered him an abundance of irritating ailments like headaches and stomach aches, though they were usually the kind that were easily tempered by some Advil or a handful of Tums. Derek knew his music hadn't helped but…he needed it, and it certainly wasn't the root cause of the problem. There were plenty of tables in the sunshine that Hotch could post up at, he wasn't going to feel guilty for this one. They probably needed the time apart anyway. If Hotch came back he'd put his headphones on, he wouldn't be rude, but he was glad for the time alone.

Hotch didn't come back, in fact, he ended up leaving for the day after sending a quick text saying he needed to go home and lay down. "If we get a case, I'll meet you at the airport." And that was it, that was the last thing Derek heard from him for two days.

He sent texts, curious at first and then panicked, but was met with silence.

"You coming in today?"

"Hello?"

"Hotch answer me dammit."

"Did you quit?"

Just a few hours into the first morning of Hotch's absense and he was terrified that something had happened - it was Foyet all over again, only this time he was ready to move. He was packing up his things and getting ready to hit the road when Strauss showed up in his doorway and told him that Hotch would be taking a few days off.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner," she said, taking in the sight of his panic. "Everything is alright. He'll be back in a few days. If you need anything, I'm available."

When he asked why Hotch was taking time off, she simply said "you should ask him" as if he hadn't already tried that. As if she wasn't a last resort. Why would Hotch tell her and not call him? It didn't make any sense and it made him angry. And under that anger, it terrified him. Something had to be wrong, incredibly wrong.

On the surface, he didn't like Hotch making him look like he couldn't lead his team. Deeper than that, he wondered if he'd done something to shake up their relationship beyond repair. Could the music have been that offensive? Did he do something to piss Hotch off?

"I know ur taking time off but could u just tell me ur ok?"

"Hotch? Come on man."

After a deluge of increasingly desperate and ignored texts, Derek decided his only course of action was to show up on his doorstep.

He couldn't shake the worry that came with the silence.

He didn't come empty handed, though. He'd gone to great lengths to have Jack's hand prints restored and framed. It had cost him significantly more money than the little finger paint and construction paper preschool art was worth, but he just couldn't stomach the fact that his promotion had led to the damage. It wasn't just about the picture or Jack's tiny hand prints. It was a gift steeped in the hope that Hotch would have more of these pictures to frame, that he would get to sit back and watch as the size of the hands grew, that he wouldn't miss it all. They would get Foyet and this would be one small drop in his bucket of memories with his son.

This seemed as good a time as any to give it to him.

The building had the smell of a fresh cleaning, the sickly sweet chemical smell of floor polish was almost overpowering. He hadn't been here since Hotch was in the hospital, hadn't seen the place since he'd begun trying to live in it again. Derek had patched the hole in the wall and ripped out the damaged carpet when Hotch's landlord said it would take several weeks to get their contractors out. They didn't have several weeks, and Hotch couldn't just go stay in a hotel after getting out of the hospital. Derek had guys who could come out the same day and help him get it done, and a good thing too because Hotch ended up getting himself released from the hospital days before he really should have. He fast-tracked his hospital stay and as Derek was about to find out, was reaping the rewards of his poor choices.

The first thought he had when Hotch opened the door was that he looked like an absolute wreck. There was nothing else he could even say about it. His hair was a matted mess, he hadn't shaved in what looked like days, and he was wearing rumpled pajamas. There was a pillow crease still on his cheek - it was pretty obvious he'd pulled himself right out of bed to answer the door and for that Derek felt a little guilty, especially noting the level of discomfort standing seemed to cause him.

"You look like shit," Derek said when Hotch let him in. His apartment was a disaster, stacked boxes, laundry draped over the couch, dishes filling the sink. The air was stifling, both too hot and without any circulation. It took Derek's breath away.

"Thanks," Hotch muttered. "Appreciate it."

"Where have you been?"

"Sick," Hotch muttered and without even a hint of hesitation or modesty, he lifted the hem of his sweatshirt just far enough to reveal a fresh patch of gauze taped over his stomach, the skin bright red and swollen where it surrounded the stark white bandages. It looked hot and painful. "I developed an infection and was told I had to take a few days off. It was not my decision."

"You couldn't call?"

"I didn't want to bother you."

"Bother me? Hotch, come on man. I had to hear it from Strauss that you were out for a few days…don't you think I should be the first one to know? Couldn't you at least answer your texts?"

"To be fair, I didn't call her, either." It was a flimsy excuse and he knew it. He just didn't want to get into a conversation, he felt stupid enough already over letting it get so bad in the first place. He'd known for at least two weeks that something wasn't right, but the symptoms came and went so frequently that it was easy enough to push aside as just another delightful side effect of the healing process. It wasn't until the splitting headache and nearly passing out walking down the stairs to get some fresh air that he was actually concerned. "My doctor was required to report it to her. They put me on a heavy dose of medication that means I can't be in the field until I've finished the course."

"How long is that gonna be? Or do I have to ask Strauss?" He was being a little rude, and maybe it was unfair, but he doubted it. Hotch should have called him and they both knew it.

"Three days until I can return to desk duty if I take public transit or get a ride, six before I can be in the field or drive. The medication has some side effects that make it nearly impossible for me to function."

"Damn Hotch."

"I'm sorry I didn't call. I haven't been able to do more than sleep and I wasn't up for a conversation. When my doctor said she had to report it, I figured that would suffice. It was stupid of me, I know, but this is the first time I've really been out of bed since I returned from the doctor's. It hasn't been great."

Derek, realizing that he was still holding the framed handprints, handed the wrapped gift to him. "Here," he said quietly. "Open it later."

Hotch quirked an eyebrow and held the package carefully, like it might break. Like it was the most delicate thing in the world.

"So, you been here alone?" Derek asked, clearing his throat. He was suddenly very self-conscious about the gift and wanted desperately to change the subject.

"Haley's sister Jessica has been dropping by just to make sure I've taken my medication. She's obviously not cleaning up after me, she's simply checking for signs of life she says."

Derek watched helplessly as Hotch walked to the couch and set the gift down before grabbing his robe, sliding into it and pulling it around him tight. He was cold. He seemed in good spirits, though, all things considered. Good spirits but exhausted and pale. The air was stifling and Derek wanted desperately to open a window, but he had a feeling Hotch wasn't doing much of that these days. They still didn't know how Foyet got in.

"I have a stack of files I brought home with me when I thought it was just a migraine coming on. I'll get them done tonight, I'm feeling better than I have in days."

"Don't you even think about it." Leave it to Hotch to have his insides be riddled with infection and think it was just a headache from not sleeping well (or at all) for a few nights. Leave it to Hotch to still believe he should be doing paperwork - if he could open his eyes and sit upright, he could hold a pen and sign his name. The man was infuriating sometimes. "Give me the files."

"Under no circumstances will you take on work that the rest of us can and should be doing." Hotch was firm on that, had been since day one. Derek was to do his job and his job only, everyone else would take on the rest of their paperwork now that Hotch wasn't doing it anymore.

"I don't think you get to order me around anymore," Derek said in a huff. Hotch cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, stepping to the challenge.

For a moment they stood, practically nose to nose, each man refusing to back down. And then Hotch did something that each of them had thought about a thousand times over in the years they'd known one another, something that they'd both wanted and nearly done and backed away from over and over and over again for reasons too numerous to count. Too stupid to fathom, in some cases.

Hotch reached up, grabbed Derek's face, and kissed him. Hard. And before he could gasp and back away, mortified by what he'd done, Derek's arms were locked around his waist, holding him in place. Whether he wanted to pretend it hadn't happened or not, he wasn't going anywhere. So he let himself be held, he relished the way they fit together like pieces of a puzzle, the way he could feel Derek's heartbeat thundering right up against his own.

"I think we just broke several rules," Hotch whispered when they finally came up for air. Derek grinned, pressing his nose against Hotch's cheek, afraid to put distance between them yet. He might never get this back if he let go too soon. "Chalk it up to another one of my sketchy judgment calls."

"I don't think they've thought up rules for our specific situation yet," Derek replied, choosing to ignore the second part entirely. It wouldn't be the last time he heard that phrase used. He would never live it down and right now that didn't matter. He'd always thought Hotch's pettiness was kind of sexy, even if it was more than a little irritating how often it was directed at him.

"No?"

"No."

"Good," Hotch said, smiling his way right into another kiss. If he had it his way, they would spend the rest of the day doing exactly this. He was suddenly very willing to share a whole lot more than just an office with Derek.

[angelasscribbles]

Changes: A ONiC One-Shot

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

Fandom: TRR mostly

CRACKSHIP ALERT: Drake x Bertrand

Word Count: 1,593

Rating: NSFW

Warnings: Lemons 🍋🍋🍋

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

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

It's pure smut. Just so you know.

The rest of my stuff can be found here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Drake paused and turned around. "Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything was going to be different now.

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

wip and a... life update?

Hi there. It's been a hot minute. I've been tagged by a lot of people to share multiple wips on multiple Wednesday. I haven't really engaged with you in a while, and for that I apologize.

Rambles, life updates and feels ahead, you do not have to read it all. I just want to say: thank you for being part of my amazing fandom journey. Without you guys, WYGTYA wouldn't be where it is today :'). I don't know how much I will be posting, but I want to finish my stories, because I have plans I am very excited about in terms of plot. But lately I've been pulled into other incredible fandoms and their contents just scream: CONSUME ME!! READ ME!! And it's all a bit hard to manage. Right now, I am trying to find excitement in the uncertainty of my future. Keep tagging me in WIP Wednesdays so this way I can post the parts that I have with Syndolin, too, and get a reaction and maybe not suffer alone about the fact that I ship him with Ravonna so much that I am considering updating this fic's pairings.

Relatable piece of chapter 18 of WYGTYA and Ravvy's feels about returning to Vivec:

Nostalgia follows her like a stray dog desperate for food. So desperate, in fact, that it might start eating her alive. It’s here, it’s there, it’s in every step she takes, and she didn’t know what to expect but it certainly wasn’t this. How do you come back to a place where you spent the best years of your life after you had to leave, forced like a knife out of a vital organ?

Anyway, you do not have to post a wip wednesday or anything, this is just to say 'thank you': @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @dirty-bosmer @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @illumiera @thelavenderelf @spooky-donut-ghost-house your comments kept me going and pulled me out of very dark writer thoughts more times than I can count <3 And to anyone who has the unfortune to have this on their dash haha, if you tagged me in a wip, or if you read my fic or interacted with me, thank you from the bottom of my heart <3 <3

Okay I'll spare you all and put the big-ass life update under the cut

Truth is, I'm doing very weird mentally. I'm at a point in my life where I truly have no idea what's next, and 2024 has been one of my best years, with two different exchange semesters and I don't know how anything will compare. I know I haven't been active on here anymore last year, but I grew so, so much as a person, and I realized that I am stronger than I thought. It may sound silly, but I keep patting myself on the back for being able to adapt and live on my own for a year in two different countries where I knew no one. I went in there not knowing a single soul and left with tears in my eyes and wonderful friends. People that managed to heal this heart of mine that I didn't even know was kind of wounded. People that I truly feel safe around to be myself with 0 judgement coming from them. People who I miss so much that it hurts somewhere in the core of my chest. But now it's over, and I'm back in my homecountry with mixed feelings. I love it here. It's home, right? It's my family, my besto friendo, and my original group of friends who all cannot wait to spend time with me. (which is another existential crisis all on its own. My absence led me to the realization that people actually miss me so much and actually love me and choose to spend time out of their day with me. And I don't want them to miss me, but I also want to be selfish and live for myself because I only have this one life) But is this home all the home there ever will be in my life? I don't think I want that. I want to travel more. Actually not just travel. I want to have so many different jobs in as many different countries, because everywhere I go, I tend to find a way to make it home, even though it's not a house (it's a city, a room dedicated for board games, a rented apartment with 4 other girls, a Ramen place, and about three different Irish Pubs)

To me it is surprising, because not even in a million years was I expecting to relate to my character so much. It's kind of blending together, blurry to where I don't know when art imitates life and I write and put her in situations similar to mine as a coping mechanism, or when life imitates art and I genuinely live through stuff that I was once only thinking about and putting in word documents for an oc who wouldn't've existed if I didn't start playing Skyrim in 2021. Anyways, I did the outline for the fic until Chapter 30 waaay back in 2022, and where I am at in the story right now, Ravonna is going back to Vivec, where she spent her college years, making friends and finding families. And while her story is much more intense than mine, I cannot help but shake my head with a smile on my face as I think about how just last week I visited Austria again, and reconnected with everyone and got very in my feels about the unbearably intense nostalgia that was raining over me the whole time. I don't know what the future holds (or if Ravonna is a self-fulfilling prophecy, if it is, I am kind of fucked because I have an ending in mind and trust me, my girl is not gonna have a good time most of the time) but what I know for certain is that Austria will always have my heart, and I will always consider that semester to be one of the best times of my life, and I am so happy with the synchronization, because now I have a chance to express a part of my emotions about coming back to a place where you spent your best time, through her story. It's very bittersweet, because you miss the place, and you miss everything, even when it's right in front of your eyes because you miss what you used to have then. I know I can visit whenever I want and that I have so many friends who are still there, but I still miss what I used to have then. I never really let myself enjoy anything in life as I did the last two months I spent there. Hell, I even miss that version of me. I miss being able to live in the present and sacrificing all the time and sleep just to see my friends. But it happened, and I am so grateful that it did. I will have the memories and the friendships forever with me. But this is life, isn't it? This is what it's all about.

[serensama]

20 Questions for Fanfiction Writers

Thank you so much for the tag @ofcrowsanddragons <3 - you can find their answers here

Tagging @rookamell @jenn2d2 @nyx-de-riva @wishforhome @himluv @vorchagirl and I know you've already been tagged @thedissonantverses but please tag me if/when you choose to do this so I can read your answers! Please feel free to tag yourselves and tag me so I can have a sneaky lil gander and get to know you all more <3

1). How many works do you have on AO3? 10 as of right now :)

2). What's your total AO3 word count?

267,958 ... I am a ... wordy bitch, what can I say hahah

3). What are your top five fics by kudos?

To Help #5 [E] 251 kudos; 34,816 words, 54 bookmarks- Mystic Messenger

To Help #4 [M/E] 187 kudos; 7,130 words, 32 bookmarks - Mystic Messenger

I think we're getting low on onions again...  [E] 186 kudos; 68,208 words; 56 bookmarks - DA Veilguard

To Help #1 [M] 156 kudos; 5,708 words, 17 bookmarks - Mystic Messenger

To Help #6 [E] 156 kudos, 15,503 words, 19 bookmarks - Mystic Messenger

4). What fandoms do you write for?

I used to write for Harry Potter, but that well of inspiration has long since dried up. Then, for a very long time, I didn't write anything until this little otome game called Mystic Messenger took over my life out of nowhere. I had been meaning to write Dragon Age fanfiction since Inquisition came out but never got around to it until finally last year- I just finally bit the bullet.

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

I absolutely do! I always respond to people's comments on here, ff.net and ao3 because it's precious to me. Interacting with people through fandom is a gift, it's given me some of my best friends who I cherish and honestly- getting comments even just <3 <3 <3 on a fic is enough to completely make my day 1000 times better. I will re-read every nice thing anyone has to say about my work over and over again and kick my feet in the air, giggle and say thank you aloud because it does mean the world to me whenever anyone takes the time to read my work and make any effort to let me know they enjoyed it. (However, I feel terrible because for about 5/6 years I went pretty much off reading/interacting/writing- just total silence from me and I missed quite a few people to reply to. Would be weird if I reply to them now like... 5 years later? If that's not weird please tell me and I'll respond to them right now!)

6). What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

It would be Do you remember?- I got a lot of friendly outrage for that one, and probably deservedly so, but it felt right to write it. And currently I'm writing another chapter of 'Onions' which is definitely angst territory. Not a whole lot of happiness there alas.

I may LOVE angst but if I can sneak a happy ending in there, please know I will :)

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

Um... do you mean happy as in emotion or smut... cos like... most of them? To both versions of the question XD

8). Do you get hate on fics?

Not really. But tomorrow is a new day, who knows what will come?!

9). Do you write smut?

I do. I actually really enjoy writing it, as much as angst or fluff. It's just really fun :)

10). Do you write crossovers?

No, but that's not to say I haven't thought about it. Like last night, I came across the dance scene from The Mask of Zorro and thought about mashing the worlds together to make Viago the new Zorro and Teia into Elena... but I let that go because I cant have another bloody WIP. Right?.... RIGHT?

11). Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so. That would be horrific :(

12). Have you ever had a fic translated?

There was someone asking to translate some of my work but that was via an Anon on ff.net, so I couldn't even respond saying they were welcome to... so maybe they just did?

13). Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Yes, if a oneshot counts. I'd tag them but their old blog doesn't exist anymore and they probably would not appreciate me tagging their new one. But if you see this, you know who you are and I love you. You were one of my very first Tumblr friends and I appreciate yoooou <3

14). What’s your all-time favorite ship?

HP: Jily, Rowezar (I'm like the only person who wrote for them at the time, I'm claiming the tag damn it)

DA: Alistair x Hof, Cullen x Inquisitor, Fenris x Hawke, Rookanis (although Illario is creeping up like that Jason Momoa and Henry Cavill meme and it's disconcerting).

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

There was a multi-chap Mystic Messenger fic that I wanted to write, I had it all planned out from start to finish and even wrote a teaser for it... then I never looked at it again. I love the idea and may choose to repurpose it for another fic/fandom one day but it wont be for MM alas.

16). What are your writing strengths?

Word count hahaha- obviously I think conversation? I've been told that people enjoy the dialogue between the characters and can hear exactly how they were saying it helped deepen their experience whilst reading the fic, so yeah >_<"

17). What are your writing weaknesses?

Word count. Overly describing things that don't need to be described and my inability to write anything outside of the third person scope- makes me feel inflexible.

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

I think there is definitely a time and place for it. I often don't like it when it feels forced or unnecessary, but if your character only speaks X language and the other doesn't, of course, you should try to be as authentic as you can. Even if that means you italicise what the first character is saying but make it known that the second has no clue what is going on in their response/thoughts. If the language is used very often though that it takes the reader out of the moment or gets too lost in what is happening, is only when I would truly discourage it. I once read something that the dialogue was entirely in another language and I just scrolled for a few minutes just looking like this ---> O_O (send help). Thankfully they did have it translated at the bottom of the fic, but I do not think readers should have to wait until the very end to understand what is happening in the middle of it (UNLESS! there is some wonderful working of the plot, where reading the whole chapter somehow makes the dialogue even more poignant, then bloody bravo!!!)

19). First fandom you wrote for? Lord of the Rings. It was a horrible self-insert when I was young, foolish and utterly in love with Legolas. It never saw the light of day and sat on my computer hard drive for only my nerdy ass to see.

20). Favorite fic you’ve ever written? It would probably be the multichapter DAO/DAI fic I'm writing right now for Cullen x Inquisitor/Warden x Alistair, In Sacrifice, Glory.  It is quietly chugging along, and whilst it is definitely not my most popular work, it's the one I put most of my effort in and am writing out of pure love. Even if no one else wants to read it- I want to read it, so I'm writing it for my own damn perverse ass ^_^

[ageless-aislynn]

As mentioned in my last post, welcome to Aislynn's 1 Word For Each WIP November Extravaganza! (It was too long to fit all of that in the banner, so hence the number 4 coming in clutch, lol!)

Here's what I'm GOING TO write at least one word for in the month of November:

Halo the series

"15 Minutes" - (John/Female Reader) Chapter 12 is in progress and will get progressiver (word of the day) by at least 1 more word! *nodnods*

"Recreation" - (Kai/Male Reader) The final chapter will be slotting in between its sibling fic's *points up at "15M"* second to last and final chapter. I have notes on chapter 5 but no draft started... yet.

"Untitled Fluffy Vannak fic" - (Vannak/Female Reader) Just a one-shot that I wanted to do for the big guy, something sweet and fun because he got VERY LITTLE of either in season 2. 😭The draft is already in progress.

I also would like to write a Reader fic for Riz since the entire rest of Silver Team is getting something 👀but have nothing on tap just yet.🤞😣🤞 One day, I hope, but I'm not counting this as part of my WIPs to be finished in November... unless I should get a heck of a lot of work done on everything else. 😉

Halo: Reach

"Choices: A Choose Your Own Spartan Adventure" - (Noble Team/Female Reader) One of the most personally ambitious things I've attempted in a while, the first chapter that sets up the adventure is almost done. Next to go are each of the chapters where you choose which Noble Team member you'll continue the adventure with. I have the plot for all of them but only Emile's has something written. We'll also be getting a separate chapters for female and male Noble Six, since we're all about, you know, choosing who you want to adventure with and Six can be either in the game. 😎👍

The Flash

"The Price" (NSFW) - (Caitlin Frost/Hunter Zolomon) I've known what's going to happen in chapter 2 for a quite a while now. Just got to write it... one word at a time, right?

"Guardian Angel" - (Time Wraith!Caitlin Snow/Eobard Thawne) About 1/3 of chapter 3 has been done for, umm, years now. Just need to push it on through a little bit more! I'm not sure how many chapters in all it will be, at least this one and a 4th but that may be enough to finish it. We'll see!

"Split" - (Caitlin Snow/Eobard Thawne) The third and final fic in the Ghost of Eobard Thawne series turned out, to my surprise, to have 3 very ragged first drafts and part of a 4th chapter just hanging out in my Word docs after all of these years. I still have my *surprised Pikachu face* on for this one, what can I say? 🤷‍♀️😂

"Try" (NSFW) - (TomCav!Eobard Thawne/Caitlin Snow/Mattobard!Eobard Thawne) Oh yeah, I went there. After all of the versions of them that I've written, the only really surprising thing is that I didn't do this a lot sooner, lol! This one has 3 chapters of almost 8k words done that nobody has ever read. It's weirdly one of the few times I did world-building, too. It's projected to be pretty big, 20-25 chapters, so maybe 50k words? 😱 It's a really big undertaking for something that's honestly just for me but... I'd really like to be able to read the entire thing one day, lol! And there's only one way to do that: I've got to write it, one word at a time. 🤷‍♀️😉

I may have totally forgotten something but this was all that showed up in my WIPs folder. Of course, that folder was imperfectly copied from my previous computer and I had to go looking for several of these, so who knows. If I missed something, feel free to let me know.

So wish me luck, frens! This is a challenge I KNOW I can do and I'm so excited about it! 🥳🎉🎊💖

All of my masterlists are here.

[theskeletonprior]

The Second: Slow 'n' Steady???

This is a casual little writing challenge to get myself into a habit, perhaps, or if not, to get some words from the meat of my brain to the pulp of the page. All of my stories for this challenge are set in the world of RAVENOT, and if you're curious, you can take a look at my WIP intro right here. And if you're really keen, you can read the first chapter (sort of a pilot as I toil) right here! Now onto the daily ramble.

It's been a slow start to the day today, but yesterday was pretty successful. I find that it's often the case that the first few days of any challenge are fruitful, but the real test comes midway through. For me, there will be some difficulty, this week, as Friday-Sunday are my working hours (what a trial, I know!). There won't be much time to write, then, so I'm not sure that my 5k for the week will come through like I hope. But it's only Wednesday, so we'll see. Yesterday I clocked a cool 980 words, and didn't attempt to flog out any more, which feels like good progress to me. Something that I often do, which helps, is that at the end of each night of the challenge, I'll try to write the next part, wherever I left off, by hand, before I go to bed that night. Then not only does my subconscious eat away at it through the night, but also I find I'm able to make adjustments and notice new storytelling pathways as I transcribe it onto my device of choosing. This month, I'm trying out Ellipsus, which I was about to say good things about, and likely still will, though I did run into a slight hitch while changing devices. (Changing devices, you see, is a key part of my writing strategy. I write on my laptop, on my desktop with the mechanical keyboard, and by hand.) But it's a minor gripe--it took a little longer than I expected to get the passcode to login. Other than that little hiccup, though, it's been working well. The interface is sleek, but intuitive, you can export your work to a pdf if you like. I thought sharing was a little bit cumbersome, as you have to create a new draft for others to be able to leave comments, but it still beats the pants off Google Docs, so far. I especially like the focus mode, which gets rid of pesky eye-catches that might interrupt your flow. Also, no one is making me say nice things about Ellipsus, I just thought I'd give them a go after they were so adamantly opposed to the use of generative AI. All told, second day's looking just dandy, despite how slow I've been to sit and write. Please behold an excerpt from yesterday.

"Stop!" Hadan shouted out, finding his voice small, thin as a child's in the dark. "Be not afraid," the Risen's answer was shatteringly strident and clarion-clear. They raised their hands, mailed in black, and the movement was enough for Hadan. He flinched, and let his arrow fly. The Risen didn't move, as if it knew before the arrow was loosed that it would fall short of the mark. Hadan fumbled for his quiver, unable to take his eyes off the still form of the intruder, who had yet to lower their hands. They were dressed in black from top to toe, as if they'd been cut loose from the shadows to walk free amongst the living. It was difficult to make out their face in the darkness of their hood, but Hadan did not miss the sight of a longsword at their waist, restful in its sheath. "Not another step!" "I have ta'en none." Hadan nocked an arrow. "I won't miss this time, wise arse," he warned, picking a mark in the centre of that black hood. "Pick another place!" "I cannot," the Risen said, "for I am Ravenot." If Hadan's blood had been running cold before, he felt it now as though the ice in his veins was splintering. He couldn't see well enough in the dark to look for the recognizable signs. Even his little town had heard the name Ravenot, and knew that the dead thing that bore it wore a tabard with a balanced scales, struck through from shoulder to hip. That it carried with it a blade and bell and trumpet, and that it went where the living could never dare, and did what even the risen dead could not. He couldn't bring himself to relax, for he knew that the Risen could lie just as well as the living could. What if this was some kind of trick, so that he'd let it in, and once he did, it would mean nothing but peril for the souls of all who dwelled here?

Until next time! Taglist: @rosieartsie @void-botanist @carmillasboywife

As always, let me know if you'd like to join or leave the taglist, and I'll act accordingly.

[thegeminisage]

tos ep rewrites/stid rewrite for the wip meme!!!

HIIII ty for asking

this isn't technically a fic per se, it's almost like a half-fic half-meta kind of deal - essentially it's an outline of what could be a fic if i had more time and patience. i did this for the first tos movie here and had a lot of fun doing it, and then i also did a small rewrite of "tholian web" here, and i had SO MUCH FUN DOING THEM but then i got side tracked and haven't done anymore. my plans for other episodes/stid are vaguely as follows:

the enemy within - loved this one conceptually but the crass rape jokes left a real sour taste in my mouth. i'd have less of that (or, if i had it, take it seriously) and more shenanigans where someone can't tell the two kirks apart because. they're both the real kirk!! that's the real point of the episode, right?

the conscience of the king - frankly, there was too much shakespeare here, even though it will always be my fav trek episode of all time. i also thought the lenore thing, while a great twist, could have been a little less "but kirk really secretly loved this woman 20 years younger than him!" and more "man this is crazy fucked up that is trying to honeypot this very young woman and surprise she is doing it back to him." more foreshadowing and drama, you know? the tos version wouldn't have to be gambler's knife but it could be something more than what it was considering the huge effect it had on fandom - i always kinda wished it had the vibes that obsession did.

the galileo seven - i thought this episode treated spock like he was kind of stupid. "why is my first command failing when i've been an asshole to everybody?" he has a human mother! he knows how emotions work! he is not stupid! i also thought there was a missed opportunity: they all talked about how callous it was for him to be picking a man to leave behind to lighten the ship, and he was so obviously going to choose himself, but it never went anywhere. let's do him more justice!

metamorphosis - let's chill with the horrific misogyny and have more fun with the accidental parallel kirk made in his really cool speech. like fuck it this is my edit let's just do spirk

mirror, mirror - this one is actually perfect as it is but i wish we'd had more time to se what the mirror kirk & co were doing in the prime universe.

journey to babel - this one is great but i don't think it takes either of spock's parents to task enough for him turning out like that. also, they tricked us into thinking amanda was the good cop in aos and then have her slap him in tos but then acted like that was just fine? girl, let's get into it

the paradise syndrome - i just want this episode without the heinous racism. please please please. easily easily EASILY my biggest trek disappointment ever

requiem for methuselah/the enterprise incident - these two go together as part of a more complex story based partially on the fact that they originally wanted kirk's breakdown in the latter episode to be a real result of the various um things that happened to him in season 3 and partially by the fact that requiem for methuselah WAS my november 5th and i am being completely serious. i didn't think i would ever feel that way again but i did at the end of that episode. you can read about the general idea here at the end of @maulthots close encounters powerpoint which i helped a little bit with.

honorable mention to episode premises i would have loved in a different context - lights of zetar where spock is the possessed one and an episode totally unrelated to wolf in the fold, the funniest tos ep after tribbles, where an enemy who feeds on fear jumps around the ship possessing people. that could have been great had it been in a serious episode and not been played by piglet's voice actor

and finally, star trek into darkness...everything about this movie was bad, except the warp core thing which was accidentally very very VERY good. so i'd rewrite it from the ground up, starting with recasting khan, because that was just a hateful thing to do. i don't have very many concrete ideas on this yet except you'd HAVE to get assad zaman for khan, right? because he can do that thing where he makes his eyes shake? he would have rocked it.

let people send you an ask with the WIP title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

[on-the-syed]

Spring Hues (4/16/25)

this one was painted for my dear partner tech's birthday. i kinda... waited way too long to start... but we clutched and got it done and that's all that matters. i have a few drafts and wips from along the way.

this was the very first scribble! i decided to draw a scene based on our most recent venture to the cherry blossom festival. it's SO pretty and smells sooo nice. it makes me happy to see so many different people from different countries and cultures enjoying nature like that. next year i should tally how many different languages i hear... that'd be cool. anyway:

at this point the only real color ideas i had were the green sky, tree, and the vague purple/blue blobs in the background there. the colors on the characters were added pretty arbitrarily and don't really mesh but that doesn't matter at this point. these days i find color to be the driving force for whether or not i finish a piece: if i don't have any good palette ideas it's reaaallyy hard to get things moving.

then i had two other thoughts: this year, we went to the festival at dusk and got to see the paper lanterns lit up. plus, the darker blue/green is tech's favorite color (especially when paired with pink) so i wanted to play with that more. i found this layer with the darker sky but it was quickly reworked. it's too yellow and de-saturated here.

alternate tree base color. the warmer pinks and orange tied the sky in better, in both the daylight and dusk drafts.

tying down a more final palette.the blobs on the right were my basis for tech's fav colors so i tried to play off of those. i also wanted to add kind of weird and different for the colors, so having the yellow sunset behind those aforementioned blue/purple blobs sounded fun. cool contrast. i kind of like how rough and primitive the buildings look in this one. i was also excited to do that painterly effect around the street lamp to indicate it's lit, but i just didn't have time to work it in properly. i also felt the characters were a bit too pink at this point.

around this point i also did a more structured sketch of the characters. i didn't really know how to intertwine their hands but i think this pose is cute, almost makes it look like they're mid conversation about something...

toning down the pink shading. i wanted the green/grey/blue shadows pulled from the sky (you can see a similar tone i worked from on the right again).

around this time i merged things and started to paint. this snippet is one of my favorites as far as palettes go; it just feels a lot different from what i might normally choose so it's interesting. i keep imagining the yellow as a goopy paint and i wanna eat it

RIP snuffer and sye: tree time! i think my lazy scribble rendering suits bark alright

(this is a flipped screen shot) rendering the sky and tree. i like slapping a few random accent colors into cloud scenes like this, but as i worked on the tree it just.. didn't look right. too busy, i guess? something about the tree colors were starting to not vibe with me too. i tried using a premade brush on the blossoms to save some time but it took more effort than it was worth and just didn't work with the rest of the painting style. go go gadget: 3 hours of boring blobby shape painting. i was worried about the tree looking too flat as well but once i added the branches poking out it felt better

more of the same. the sky continued to gnaw on me.

i recorded most of the rendering after the color tie-down (included below), and while rewatching i noticed that the simple early sky looked WAY better. so i painted a similar deal here. i also added stars poking through to say "hey this is at dusk btw it's almost night time". it was a nice way to pull in some of the pinks and greens from further down in the painting. it was also a good excuse to use pure white somewhere in the piece (the sparkly big stars). a little personal challenge i like to do is include pure black/white in drawings whenever i can, out of spite for the years spent not doing that. lukewarm art advice on the internet were engraved in younger me's brain and it led to the UGLIEST colors of all time for years. so doing that, plus throwing on whatever bright, weird colors i feel like, is kind of fun to explore now. i used pure black on the tree bark, for those keeping score at home

played around with color correcting the blossoms. the orange here does work better with the sky colors but it felt a little too orange. this process was very annoying because most everything was on one layer, and i already had to painstakingly paint around the tree to fix the sky.

more troubleshooting. this did prove to me that the original colors (left) needed to be toned down a bit. you can also see some of the foliage being rendered too: this is probably the part of the piece i'm most disappointed with. i wanted to properly draw more realistic plants and had even gathered a bunch of refs, but i just didn't have the time. the abstract shape-y plants are fine, but not what i really wanted going into this one.

beginning to render the characters. i HATED painting the bricks in this one. i just didn't have any great ideas for the colors and considered just lining it but could get it working. i tried giving it a slightly gritter texture. good enough. i also wanted to do more for the sidewalk but again, no time.

i ended up using the second draft colors for these guys much more than i expected. no time! i was doing this part an hour before bedtime the day before his bday! ahhhhhhhh!!!!! i had to finish it while clocked in and working the day of!

aaaand the final. i REALLY had to skimp on some details which i'm still bummed about. i just need to plan and time things better next time, but i did still have a few things i liked on it so it's okay. plus he liked it and that's what's important!

aaand here is a recording of the painting process. my favorite parts of the piece are colors (specifically the yellow sunset with the cityscape). my biggest let-downs are the lack of detailed plants and the rushed rendering on the characters. i really wanted to slap more color and detail on them but alas... i did learn some things so i'll take it :)

[justabigoldnerd]

Kiss Game

Thank you so much @the-golden-comet for the tag!!!!

Rules: post a kiss from any of your OCs/WIPs. Any kiss, from familial, pecks on the cheek, kisses on the forehead, to full blown steamy make-outs

I don't have any kisses in WIPs, so I'm gonna post kisses from works I've posted!! I'll do one fic every Friday 🥰

First up is "It Takes Three To Tango", the first fic I ever wrote for this fandom!!!

1.

She took his other hand in hers and lifted it. He flinched, which made them both smile. Instead of slapping him, she laced their fingers together. "Illya," she breathed, her eyes falling to his lips. Taking a breath to steel his nerves and kill the self doubt threatening to bubble up, he dropped her hand and placed his palm on the small of her back. Finally, finally, after months of almost's and yearning, Illya dipped his head and pressed a slow, exploratory kiss to Gaby's lips. She sighed into his mouth and kissed him back with fervor. Her hands slid up his chest and locked behind his neck, her thumbs resting on his cheeks. Suddenly, she broke the kiss with a gasp and put their foreheads together. "Oh, Illya, liebling…." she whispered, before biting her lip in a mischievous smile. Without warning, Gaby shoved him backwards. Caught off guard, he stumbled, and fell back over the arm of the couch. He hadn't even noticed that she'd turned them. Those two facts clicked into place in his mind, and his emotions quickly changed from confused, to aroused. Giggling at her triumph, Gaby crawled on top of him, cradling his face and kissing him hungrily. Illya's eyes fluttered closed and his hands found her waist.

2.

Illya didn't look up, but fired off a slew of Russian curses at him. "They used five vials. Took five vials to get me to say anything to them. I only said little bit. Nothing important." "We know, liebling. Everything's fine," Gaby shot Solo an encouraging look before returning to Illya to comfort him. She pulled his hands away from his face and held them in hers before pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. Solo looked away, choosing to focus on hiding his wound.

3.

That shut them up long enough for Gaby to grab the med-kit and sew the bullet hole shut. "Be honest with each other, please." "Fine. I was scared to death when you went missing, Illya. Do you remember what you told me in the car?" Illya's eyes darted away and his ears turned pink, but he nodded. "Was it true?" He paused, then nodded again. "Well, then, you'll have to forgive me. This is my first time doing this." "Doing what-" Illya didn't have time to finish his sentence. Solo grabbed a fistfull of his turtleneck and pulled him down, connecting their mouths together in a crash of teeth and tongues. Illya's lips were chapped, and tasted of blood, but he kissed like his life depended on it. His hands cautiously found Solo's face and held it gently. They had to part for breath, and Illya whispered against his mouth, "You have soft lips, Cowboy. Use lots of chapstick?"  "More than you, apparently," Solo kissed him again through a laugh that made him wince.

No pressure tagging @pippinoftheshire @too-young-to-fall-in-love @times-up-alone-tonight @heytheredeann @cha-melodius

@huggiebird @nicijones @thattripleabattery @falling-into-peril and anyone else who wants to join!!!

[stars-and-darkness]

20 questions for fic writers!

many many thanks to @garglyswoof for tagging m

How many works do you have on ao3? 63. i need to calm down.

What's your total ao3 word count? 747 502. i need to calm down.

What fandoms do you write for? the vampire diaries, shadow & bone, avatar: the last airbender, star wars, marvel. also, that one suez canal x ever given fic, and that one goncharov fic.

Top five fics by kudos: A Queen's Gamble (you know it's an old one if the title is capitalised lmao), make them bow., the fate makes for a lousy poet., where the heart moves the stones, nyctophilia.

Do you respond to comments? i try. i am not very good at it, but every now and then i sit down, crack my knuckles, and go about emptying my poor inbox.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? the end. is like ... the only fic i ever wrote that ended unhappily.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? see above, lol, literally everything else. i'm a wuss.

Do you get hate on fics? i mean ... not really? i would mostly classify the rude things i got as entitlement rather than hate. the impression i usually got was that those people liked my writing style, or the plot, or characterisation, or whatever--there was just one thing or several that they wanted to happen differently, and they felt the need to tell me that.

Do you write smut? looooooo, no, my ace ass would probably spontaneously combust.

Craziest crossover: i don't suppose i've ever written an actual crossover, but today i put dracula-the-historical-figure into the vampire diaries universe, so ....

Have you ever had a fic stolen? ... maybe? okay, strap yourselves: a few years ago someone asked if they could translate a fic of mine into spanish and post it on wattpad, and i said yes. (THIS is one of the reasons why i don't allow translations anywhere but ao3 anymore). they did, and they sent me the link. i linked the translation to my fic, the usual. then, a lot later, i actually went to check their post, and i realised that i wasn't credited though the person said they would. yaaaaay.

Have you ever had a fic translated? well, other than the fiasco up there, the incredible @winterandmistletoe, who made the edit that graces the beginning of make them bow., has two chapters of the russian translation of that fic up on ao3. there's also been an offer to translate The Manifesto of a Last Love into russian, but that one hasn't been posted yet.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? i have not! and honestly, i don't think i'd be very good at it. i'm a bit of a tyrant, so in an effort NOT to be perceived as such i'd probably be super lenient of whatever the other people came up with even if i didn't necessarily like it. i'm pretty particular in my tastes, and one of the things i love about writing fic is that i have nobody but myself to answer to.

All time favorite ship? ehhhhh, nooo, i can't choose between my children!

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? considering that tvd has had me in its claws for two years now, it feels unlikely i'll ever go back to my wips in other fandoms. you never know of course, but it feels that way. i mean. those unfinished wips don't exactly haunt me, but sometimes i remember them and feel awful about it, lmao.

What are your writing strengths? i'm told i do dialogue and humour well!

What are your writing weaknesses? ughhhhh probably action? it's so hard. oh! and my tendency to describe how a character's eyes look in every other sentence.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? SO fun fact that dracula fic that i posted today? the one where half the dialogue is in french? i had originally written it all IN FRENCH, and then decided to take mercy on my readers and just put the english translation into italics. yeah. anyway, rule of thumb, ig: if the pov character understands what's being said, then english in italics (or if it's just a sentence or two the spoken language with a footnote). if they can hear individual words, then the language that's being spoken, without translation. if they hear only gibberish--maybe they're super unfamiliar with the language, maybe it's being spoken very fast or with an accent--then just 'character x says something in z'.

First fandom you wrote in? marvel, for my own peace of mind. star wars is the first one i actually posted for.

Favorite fic you've written? again, you can't ask me to pick between my children.

tagging: @morningstargirl666 @kirythestitchwitch @helpless-in-sleep @marxandangels @purplesigebert @darkestgrays @averseunhinged

[ruushes]

Would love to hear your Zevran thoughts <3

original and ultimate babygirl 🥺

first impression: so i actually knew he was gay romanceable before starting origins and went in with the intention of gay romancing him pretty much solely bc i thought it was cool you could be gay in a video game. i didn't really know much else about him going into it, so his intro was like, holy shit i'm in love with him 😂😂 and i only liked him more and more as the game went on, I’ll admit I took a lot of his humor and bravado at face value at first and the depth of character that unfolded was unexpected and really cool

impression now: it might seem like i love him a normal and reasonable amount given that i don't draw or post about him that often but that's just bc the more i like something the less and less i talk about it out of embarrassment 😅

favorite moment: so so so hard to choose 😭😭 maybe the dialogue after you kill taliesin if you push him to make the decision of what he'll do next himself:

cautiously testing unfamiliar agency.... the look for validation... 🥺

idea for a story: gestures vaguely at the complete origins novelization and chronicle of whatever weird thing he and ailill have going on that exists perfectly in my mind and materially in unconnected 500-word scraps of dialogue that don't even amount to anything you could call a wip 🤦‍♂️i think the last thing i worked on was a bit about how on the morning after zev's recruited he has another chance to finish the assassination and kind of commits to the idea of staying instead

unpopular opinion: i think understandably and naturally people tend to focus on positives when making fan material (i do it too like 90% of my sketches are cutesy shipping art lol) but i'd also like to see more of him being flawed? like i feel like a big part of the appeal of him as a character is the 'healing from trauma and starting anew' theme, and healing is so difficult and messy and nonlinear, not something that gets resolved by falling in love over the course of like nine months, you know? but i don't really fault people for not exploring that, it's just something i'd be interested to see more of (':

favorite relationship: zevwarden naturally😌 especially in the context of wardens with a similar desire to die, where they can sort of figure out how to want to live again together

favorite headcanon: i've been poking around in the toolset and looking at the differences between the m and f romances and i think there's a case to be made for a reading where there's an element of internalized homophobia and/or trauma impacting how he looks at relationships with men that goes beyond generally preferring women. his gendered dialog with men tends to be more physical than emotional, there are instances where suggestive gendered dialog alludes to violence with m wardens and not f, he makes some skeptical comments abt the idea of being in a relationship with a man. i don't have evidence at hand and i certainly don't think everyone Should think this way or anything, i just find it interesting to think about preferences and how they can be impacted by experience in the context of being bi, and how it could both complicate and enrich an mwarden relationship

[tinknevertalks]

For the ask game: 🤩 for Abby, ❓, 📖 for Waves, please. :D

Eeee, thanks for this lovely! XD (I need to get better at answering these straight away.)

🤩a WIP snippet about or with dialogue from ________ [name of a character]. If you don’t have one for that character, choose someone else! - Right, this is tangentially with Abby, but it's Nikola and Will talking. (Yeah, it's the (Abby/Will) + Helen (and maybe Nikola, I still haven't decided) fic.)

“Well, William, you don't have to be a genius to figure out that Helen has plans for you,” Nikola muttered to Will. Will tried ignoring him, reading the file in front of him, but Abby had joined their boss and Will knew that smile. It was her I'm so happy to see you but please can we go somewhere private and fool around smile, one he thought was just for him. Since when did she smile at Magnus like that? And since when did Magnus smile back like that, a secret in her eyes and a laugh on her lips? Why at Abby? Sighing, he asked, “What do you mean?” Nikola smirked. “It seems to me like Helen has taken your Agent Corrigan under her wing.” Leaning forward, like he was giving Will super secret information, he added, “Helen doesn't like when her fledglings aren't treated with the respect they deserve.” Will shook his head. “Wha--” “When it comes to matters of the heart, Helen stays out of the way. When it comes to matters more base - sex, Scoot - Helen takes matters in hand.” Nikola grinned, leaning back. “Like I said, Helen has plans for you.”

❓ any WIP snippet you want!

Ooooooh. Because I really need to get back on this, have a section from In The Nice Part of Town. 😁

Weeks passed. Helen tried not to change her behaviour, to keep a respectable distance from Nikola, but she couldn't help delighting in being drawn to him. What did that Taylor Swift song say? His magnetic field being a little too strong? Something like that. Like a iron filing she was constantly edging closer to him. And really, when it meant having a cuddle at night on the sofa, and him stroking her shoulder absentmindedly, who was she to argue with physics? Kissing his cheek on her way to work was just being friendly. And if he happened to kiss her cheek as he handed her a cuppa when she got home, well that was just the reciprocal nature of their friendship. Because they're just friends. Doing friend things. As friends. Helen knew, on a scale of one to hopelessly besotted, exactly where she was.

📖 a published snippet from _________ [published work of theirs you haven't had read yet, but are curious about]

Waves? You wanted a bit of Waves? Eeeeeeee! 🥰🥰🥰 Okies, right. Ack. This is part of the way in, but just know Helen and Nikola haven't spoken here in like four/five years. Enjoy!

Saturday in the mall was not how Nikola imagined spending his afternoon, but he needed new shoes. If he went earlier in the day, he wouldn't have to deal with too many people, and he wouldn't get another headache. That was the plan. He didn't get there until after lunch. Some kids were running around, yelling and squeaking. Parents were standing around chatting, ignoring their children behaving like the monsters they were, and Nikola's foot was cold. He had known for a while his shoes needed replacing but there it was, a tiny hole. Sighing, his defences up, he strode in. Helen's morning had been busy. Between chores, playing and Ashley singing Old McDonald, the house had been cleaned, clothes in the machine, homework done and lunch eaten. Now it was time for the most important part of the day. Shoe shopping. The shop was busy, and children were running around like headless chickens. “Alright, we need some sneakers for you, Henry, and some boots for you, Will. No running around, please.” “Ok!” the boys chorused, before dashing to the kids’ section. Ashley was pulling on Helen's hand, wanting to follow them. Smiling indulgently, glad her mental barriers were firmly in place, they walked briskly after them, Ashley stomping ahead. “Ooooff!” Someone had walked into her and caught her elbow before she fell over. “I'm sorry, I-- Helen?” The world slowed down. Flashes of memories filled his mind – his laugh, her smile, that kiss – as her bright blue eyes drank him in. “Nikola?” she breathed, her lips already forming a grin. Her heart was clattering against her ribcage. “Wh-- what are you doing here?” Who was that squeaking in her voice? He held up his other hand, face and mind wondrously blank to her. “Shoes.”

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday Game

Tagged by @wannab-urs @frenchiereading @megamindsecretlair @pedroshotwifey

Thank you all tagging me 🥰 You all know I always have ideas, the problem is usually follow through. 😂 and completion.

Step one: Post snippets of the fics you're working on (can be a summary if there's no snippet)

Step two: put them in a poll and let people vote on which one you should work on, then prioritize the one with the most votes.

Step three: Ask me about my WIPs! I've got lots of lore to share + more snippets, etc.

My March Spring Prompts! I’m really enjoying doing them this month. I’ve been trying to include as many different Pedro and Oscar characters as possible with some connecting drabbles. 🥰

A sample of part two of "The Lake between Us" (Thank you all for enjoying part one, I didn't quite expect such a response for it. Should I make a tag list for it? 🤔) Ezra AU x plus size OFC - name in future parts:

Things were tenuous at first but they worked out she’s to call him ‘Uncle’ or Mr. Ezra. It worked better in social situations and she became his little ‘Birdie.’ Scaling down the jobs he took on to mitigate risk was a challenge and were worth less but he had to live not only for himself now. The pair moved around some before he enrolled her in school in Louisiana but ensured that he taught her when she came home in the evenings and on the weekends. The child hated the extra lesions, but it enabled her to be leagues ahead of her peers as far as studies went. Ezra was determined not to suffer another fool and would do what he could so that Cee wouldn’t follow in her father’s steps of idiocy. The results of his care, diligence and support was realized at both her high school graduation which he had never imagined attending anyone’s graduation except his own and to travel with his charge to see the college she’d chosen.

Nuestras canciones (Our Songs) Santiago Garcia x Amalia (plus size OFC) @reallyrallyauthor liked my Santiago spring prompt for today so I felt motivated to finally write another part to this mini-series:

Santiago saw a woman by herself lost in the music, the glow from her skin from perspiration. He didn’t see a reason why he shouldn’t make his way over to her so he did, but he waited until she opened her eyes again and was surprised by him. She laughed and apologized where he told her there was no reason to. Holding his hands out, she peered down and slid her fingers along his palms. The last song died down and the next started, it was slower, sensual, intimate. Garcia interlocked his fingers with hers as they moved back and forth, step by step. His eyes met hers, pulling one of her hands toward him and placing it on his shoulder. His palm found a place on her hip as his lips skimmed her forearm up to her shoulder, pulling her closer. They didn’t say anything as they moved in sync. Once the music ended this time, they stepped outside so they could hear each other speak. By the time they finally exchanged phone numbers, the club was emptying out and Amalia looked toward her friends as did Santiago. The pair had spoken about the dancing, club, food, drinks, if they were single, music and a few bad jokes. Well, between the both of them, quite a few bad jokes. 

My third WIP is one that I choose to blame @mysterious-moonstruck-musings since she fancies herself a sweet Dieter. So I gotta deliver because this is what she wants apparently. 🤭 I have vibes and two paragraphs at this point. Basically, you meet Dieter through one of his PA (because he's got 4 or 5 personal assistants who keeps track?) and he finds drawn to you? Was it crocs? Was it pizza? Was it a two am dance party to Paramore and Linkin Park? Maybe it was all of them or something else entirely? I'll work it out.

My last WIP is one I've been kicking around for a bit. It's a WIP I have with Marcus Pike. I've been dabbling him after a shooting or passing his firearm recertification exam and having PTSD (because I haven't tortured a Pedro character recently 👀) This one is also vibes, still working it out. I started mentioning therapy in my March prompts and it snowballed into this WIP.

This is what I have this week. Poor Javi G's outline still isn't vibing with me. I am going to figure it out though. 😭

Let me know if you have any questions about any of them. 🤗

NPT: @maggiemayhemnj @magpiepills @morallyinept @inept-the-magnificent @covetyou @chronically-ghosted @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @gemmahale @schnarfer @romanarose @perotovar @soft-girl-musings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tinytinymenace @alltheglitterandtheroar @drawingdroid @yourcoolauntie @trulybetty @hannibals-favourite-meal @thefrogdalorian @gasolinerainbowpuddles