#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

[seafumes]

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🙈

[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.

[alder-saan]

His sister...

Larissa x normie! fem! reader

OKAY this is the second time I post it bcz... well that was a wip and I posted it... I hate myself right now. Anyway I have to re-wright it. All of it. But that's okay :) (no that's not I wanna end myself)

Warnings : smut (that's the first time I write smut lol (the second as I already wrote this fic)) (the smut isn't with Larissa)

You are Larissa's brother's wife.

word count: ~3000

(I know this will look a bit like Mme Bovary, but... well, it's not a classic of French literature for nothing)

You had married Philip Weems two months earlier. You didn’t love him. He was eleven years older than you, and not really your type. In fact you didn’t really choose to be his wife and to live in his house. Your father and him wanted to reunite their companies, and you were only there to make it look less commercial. You were here to give an heir. Lovely mission, you were not a woman anymore, you were a baby machine. He had flirted with you before you took the deal, probably to build up your confidence and make it easier for you to accept the situation, but now that you were his, he didn't pay any attention to you.

In his big house, your life was boring. You didn't have a degree, school was never really for you and because your father was rich, you never had to work. So naturally you had resumed reading. It allowed you to live a different life through the eyes of all the characters. And all day long you would read more and more of those mushy novels, dreaming of a life that was no longer available to you. You also started writing, but without telling anyone. It was a bit of a secret. You wrote the romantic stories you imagined all day. And then every day you went out to see your friends in a café in your neighbourhood.

“I promise, Jess’, he doesn’t bother me. I mean, he’s respectful. And I don’t need to work. A win is a win.”

Your friend Jessica narrowed her eyes.

“You sure ? I mean… you always told me you wanted to marry the love of your life when you’d find him.”

“I was younger, Jess’. I don’t believe in this bullshit anymore.”

Yes, you did believe it. You wanted to cry about it. You wanted to know Love. The Real Love. You wanted to meet him by accident in a library, or in a hostel, on the other side of the world. You wanted him to be young, at the same age as you, and you wanted him to love you.

You also wanted to work, to earn your own money.

“Respectful, okay but is he good?” Mary asked

“He is kind, if this is your question.” You pretended not to understand.

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“Not really, I doubt he is really interested in me. I mean I am probably too young for him. We just do it because that was a part of the contract, but he never makes me finish. Anyway I don’t need him for that.”

“You don’t love him and he doesn’t look after you. What a nightmare…” Jessica said.

“That’s not that bad. I don't have to worry about money, I have all my days to myself. I can look after myself.“

That wasn’t a positive thing in your opinion. You wanted to be independent. You wanted to be able to do whatever you could want. This made you feel like you were an object, some kind of trophy that he could show off at the parties you attended. You were there to be beautiful and to be silent. 

No, the real positive thing was that you now understood your mother, and why she left you when you were a child. Your father always told you she was a bad mother and she didn’t love you. And before you got married, you were mad at her. But you knew, now you were married to a man you didn’t love. She didn’t love you, but she probably never wanted this marriage nor a child. You were thinking of leaving once you'd given Philip a child, the way she did before.

You wanted to find her, and to talk to her. You wanted to know the story of her life, of her marriage to your father. You also wanted to tell her that you understood her, and that you were no longer angry at her for abandoning you. If she hadn't wanted to be your mother, you wanted her to be your friend, because you were going through something she had gone through too..

“Alright girls, I gotta go. See you tomorrow!” You waved at them and left the café after paying for your drink.

It was time for you to go back to your home. Your husband would be home in less than half an hour. You had to help Livia cook. It wasn't in the contract, but you wanted to do it. Livia, although she spoke very little English, made you feel less lonely. She spoke to you in her half-Spanish English about her travels with her family. Even though she often told the same stories, you liked to hear her talk about places you had never seen. Especially when she talked about the sea of clouds over the Sierra Madre. You dreamed of going there. She told you that when she came back to visit her parents, she could take you there. But you knew your husband wouldn't let you go... And then you helped her to speak better English, she had made progress in the last two months. She taught you Spanish too, but for now, the only things you could say were "Soy Y/N, no me gusta mi marido" and some names of foods and ingredients.

Then, your husband would go home, and you would have dinner. He would watch tv, and the both of you would go to bed, and you would have to fuck. 

Soon, he would fall asleep next to you.

And every night, after that, you used to imagine another man. Sometimes it was an explorer who would tell you about his many journeys, a writer who would make you read his most intimate texts, a painter who would take you for his muse... 

But that night, he was a sailor. A handsome sailor you would have met in the inn where you were working. He would have asked for a room for the night and a meal. And while you were serving him, he would have made a few passes at you, to which you would have responded by teasing him. If at the beginning, it would have been innocent, you would have quickly come to the point where he would have proposed you to spend the night with him, at the end of your service. To which you would have replied with a "maybe", but as soon as your boss allowed you to leave, you would have knocked on his door.

“I was wondering when you’d come…” he would tell you.

Then he would take your waist and hold you close. You would kiss him, and it would become wilder as his hands would travel to your ass. He would gently but firmly push you against the wall.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He would whisper. You would know that was a lie, but you wouldn’t care. And he would know it.

He would kiss your neck while undressing you. And when you would be completely naked, he would sit you on the bed and spread your legs to kiss your inner thighs, then your clit. He would lick your arousal and you would moan his name.

In your bed, you were circling your clit, legs spread, a hand massaging your breast. You imagined his head facing your wet pussy, saying you were tasting divine, his hands all over your body, caressing your skin. You were already so close and as he would ask you to hold on a little, you waited a few seconds before allowing you to come. 

Next to you, your husband was sleeping.

Soon, you fell asleep too.

The sun was brushing your skin, slowly warming it. You opened your eyes. You were alone in your giant bed. Philip was already gone. You heard the clock striking nine. He used to leave the house near seven o’clock. You stretched your arms and legs and yawned. Watching towards the window, you could see the blue sky. This day promised to be good. You quickly showered and dressed up. Something simple. Black tights, dark skirt, white shirt. A safe bet. But to add a small personal touch, you clipped a blue tit pin on your shirt. 

You always liked blue tit. Firstly because they were cute. A tiny bird, yellow and blue, with a kind of large eye liner and white cheeks. Secondly because you wished to go to Europe once. You wanted to travel to Austria, or Germany, and this Eurasian tit symbolised this dream.

Maybe one day you would quit New Hampshire.

Something on the dresser caught your eye. Some 50 dollar notes had been put there by your husband. He had written a message on a piece of paper: "so you can go shopping today, we have a guest for lunch".

You frowned and crumpled the paper. So he wanted you to look good with his guest, uh? 

“I’m not a teen who needs pocket money.” you grumbled. 

You put on black shoes, music in your earphones, and went out of the house. In the streets, the sun was warming the asphalt, and your steps led you almost automatically to the little café bakery in which you usually  bought your breakfast.

Opening the door, a smell of butter, sugar and vanilla reached your nostrils. By 9 am, not many people were left. But you would have noticed her in a crowd of thousands of people. She was sitting on a chair, a big cup of hot chocolate and a croissant on the table in front of her. Her blonde hair in a perfect updo, she wore a clear blue dress. She was looking at the window, her phone in one hand. She was so tall… Your mouth went dry when you noticed her red lipstick as she turned her head towards you. She had caught you staring in the glass reflection. She gave you a smile, and you were sure your cheeks became as red as her lips. You turned your head to the counter to order, removing your earphones.

Were you just staring at a woman?

Did she just smile at you?

You glanced over your shoulder. She was still looking at you, her blue eyes fixed on you, crossing her legs. She took a sip in her cup.

“Hot…” you whispered.

“Excuse me, Y/N?” the waiter asked.

“Yes-yes, Nicolas, er, I-I want a-a hot chocolate please. And… and, er… a profiterole please. Takeaway.”

“Ready in a second.”

You couldn’t stand her look, it made your knees go weak. Was it what Jess called a “gay panic?”. You had to know and tipped a message.

: Hey, Jess

: What exactly is a gay panic?

She was quick to respond.

J: When you look at a girl and you want to like… kiss her. Immediately. And you can’t function properly bcz you think about her kissing you.

J: Why?

: There is this woman at Nic’ and Jane

: I never felt like this for a woman.

: She’s so beautiful, I want her lipstick on my lips and on my throat right now.

J: Oh my god

J: You’re gay!

: Am I?

J: You ARE.

“Y/N?” Nicolas said.

“Uh? Yes, it’s me”

“I have your hot chocolate and your profiterole.”

“Thanks”

“Is everything okay? You seem distracted…”

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you. Is it okay if I pay later? I forgot my wallet at home.”

“Of course, whenever you want.”

You took the paper bag he handed to you and went out of the café-bakery. The fresh air was really needed. You put your earphones back on.

Who was she?

You had never seen her. 

Walking the street, you arrived in the big park in which you always ate your breakfast. Your favourite place was in a sort of hidden place, under a badly pruned weeping willow. There was a bench, and a little pond in which ducks used to swim when you were a kid, but now, there were only frogs left. Sometimes, a grey heron you named Alex was fishing in it. A grey heron in New Hampshire. That was the local attraction. It escaped an aviary two years ago and settled up in the park. No one tried to catch it. And now, it was the star of the neighbourhood's children, who often tried to find it. Sometimes, when it was in the pond, you would talk to it, as if it could understand what you were saying. And for the only answer, Alex would keep fishing, at the other side of the pond.

But this day, no Alex in the pond. And the frogs were happily jumping in the grass. The sunshine passing between the branches of the willow tree made thousands of small sun spots on the now shimmering  water. You wiped the bench full of willow leaves with your hand and sat there.

While drinking your hot chocolate, you thought about this woman, in the café bakery… 

You wanted to see her again…

You had just finished your hot chocolate and ate your pastry when you heard footsteps in your back. You hoped no one would pass the curtain of leaves which hid you from the world. You liked to be alone, daydreaming about people you would never see again… Shit, they entered your secret garden. You sighed.

“What a pleasant surprise!”

You turned your head. That was her. She was there, next to you. Your eyes widened, your cheeks went red.

“Hi-uh… Hello.” You managed to say.

“Y/N, isn’t it? Can I sit here?”

“Y-yes, of course. How-how do you know my name?”

“I heard the waiter say it.” She sat, smiling at you. “My name is Larissa.”

“Larissa…” you whispered. Her name was quite unusual, and you liked it, you liked the way it sounded. You couldn’t look at her so you just fixed the water.  But in your peripheral vision you saw her smirk.

“And I paid your order.”

You turned your head towards her. Big mistake, now you couldn't take your eyes off hers.

“Oh no, you shouldn’t have…”

“And you should have sat with me in the bakery. I’m glad I found you.”

“Wh-why?”

Her look went down on your lips. You felt your cheeks warming.

“I don’t know” she said “I thought you could show me a good time…”

“I-I want to pay you back.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to.”

“Mh, if you really want to, there is something you could do.”

“And what is it?”

Her hand approached your cheek. You held your breath. Was she about to kiss you? Your heart hammered in your chest as she stared again at your lips. 

“I-I am a married woman.”

She froze. You held your breath. The wind blew and some willow leaves fell on you, the frogs and the pond.

“I’m sorry. I think I misunderstood your signals” She gave you a soft smile.

She started to pull her hand away from your cheek but you held it back.

“No you didn’t. I-I just thought that was unfair not to tell you.”

“I don’t understand…”

“That’s not a love marriage. I don’t love him, he doesn’t love me.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head. You didn’t like this pity gaze on you.

“Don’t. That’s okay.”

“You know, I was almost forced into a marriage, so I think I can understand what you feel.”

Her? Her, forced into a marriage? You suddenly felt understood, and safe with her. She took your hand.

“My former fiancé learnt I wasn’t a normie and refused the marriage.”

“What do you mean by a normie? You mean straight?”

“Yeah, I mean straight.” She didn’t want to tell you she was an outcast.

“To be honest I learnt I wasn’t today.”

“Am I your gay awakening?” Her smile grew bigger as you nodded.

She kissed you. Her lips were soft. Both of her hands on your cheeks, yours were on her hips. She left a last kiss on your cheekbone and smiled.

“How about a walk? Maybe you could show me the city.” She said.

“Of course, follow me.” You smiled.

You stood up and the both of you came out from under the willow.

“What was yours?” you asked, leading her on a path in the park.

“My gay awakening?”

“Yes”

You looked at her looking at the big trees. 

“My brother’s first girlfriend. He always had good tastes in women. By the way, are you from this town? Because I’m visiting him, and he said he would send me the address but he seemed to have forgotten. Can’t blame him, he has a lot of work.”

“Yes, of course, I live in the neighbourhood. I might know him, what’s his name?”

“Philip Weems.”

You frowned. What did she say?

“I didn’t hear, can you repeat, please?”

“His name is Philip Weems.”

That was official, you just kissed your husband’s sister. What were you supposed to say? Was she the guest for lunch? 

“Are you okay? If you don’t know where he lives, that’s okay.”

“I know where he lives.”

“Good morning Mrs Weems” a gardener said.

“Goo-good morning, Mr Johnson. How are you today?” you replied.

Larissa frowned. Did she know him?

And you cursed him for saying that right now.

“I’m fine, and you?”

“I’m fine.”

And he continued sweeping the path beside you.

“Mrs Weems, uh? You’re Philip’s wife.”

“I am.”

She chuckled.

“That only makes you more attractive…”

_______________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed <3

[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!

[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.

[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

[wilmonsfolklore]

Young Royals fic rec!

Or: an excuse to gush about my favourite fanfictions

I've read a whole bunch of fics ever since I joined this fandom and I figured I'd make a post to appreciate my all-time favourites. I know I'm not the most eloquent with compliments but just know I love all of these fics (and so much more) from the bottom of my heart. Don't forget to leave kudos and comments if you enjoy them, and check out the other fics of these writers too!! (Also, I tried to find all of the writer's Tumblr accounts but if you see this and I didn't link you please message me!!)

on a rainy day by softwilmcn, 77K - let's start with my favourite fic that just got completed. such a wonderful au. I'm a sucker for wille and simon being vulnerable with each other and this fic treats their trauma with such respect and creates such a delicate, sweet relationship between the two of them. their support for each other is comforting and i love it to bits.

he(art)felt by museraphobia, 27K - this au so special to me. it mainly takes place in a museum. i know close to nothing about art or museums but this story taught me a lot and the world now fascinates me. and the way that wille and simon's different backgrounds and personalities are presented in this au are so lovely. also, it's just really really fluffy and sweet.

you could be the one to stay (144K) and teach me how to love (46K) by starrystoryteller - i truly didn't know which one to choose from this writer, so I'll mention both. you could be the one to stay is a kid fic that i absolutely adore, and teach me how to love is a teacher!au that might just be the fluffiest thing i've ever read. they're both so sweet and uplifting and just get me out of a bad mood every time i read them.

play my song by elin98 / @ishotforthestars, 57K - the first young royals fic i've ever read! simon is a late night radio host and wille calls in to talk to him. they connect online. i have such a special place in my heart for texting fics and this one is such an original take. it's happy and funny but also emotional.

the most beautiful boy by lovelysarcastic, 87K - this is a Slow Burn, and when i say slow i mean SLOW. friends to lovers is one of my favourite tropes and i feel like it would be so realistic for wilmon. i read this story when it was a WIP and i was So invested and read every update as soon as i could. the crush wille has on simon for the longest time was so realistic and i love his inner conflict about not wanting to ruin their friendship. it's so special to me and im dying to reread it now that it's completed so i can experience it all again.

there all along by stretchoutandwait / @stretchoutfics, 50K - this is The post-season 1 future fic for me. Kristina dies and simon texts wille to check in on him. what i love about this fic is how honest the characters are about their feelings, and the dialogue that that creates. some really good conversations about what happens in the show also take place. the respect these characters have for each other is so important in canon and it really shows in this fic.

already, again, always by toffeelemon / @toffeelemon, 21K - probably my favourite wilmon fic out there and the one that i have read the most times. simon is president of the queer society at uni and wille joins after he abdicated and they reconnect after what went down in S1. their emotional conversations are always on my mind. the way they just fall into each other orbits again but in a different way, more purposely than in the show is so wonderful.

inevitable by ambitioncutsusdown / @monttagues, 25K - this is my favourite post-season 1 fic that takes place at Hillerska. i love how this emphasises the way that Simon and Wille are naturally drawn to each other, but that they still make a conscious choice to be together. simon's bitterness towards Wille and his love for him at the same time is realistically portrayed and the writing is absolutely gorgeous.

that's what I really want by yr_bb / @cinnamoncoffees, 57K - last but definitely not least!! this is an au based on the book Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall. i loved this fic so much i actually read the book but i preferred the fanfiction. anyway. i love how how different wille and simon's situations are to the show, but how true to character they are. it's fluffy and comforting and absolutely perfect to read at the end of a hard week

[zenkindoflove]

🧭An alternative title to your/ one of your WIP(s)?

🍄Decriscribe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”  

♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP

🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

🧭An alternative title to your/ one of your WIP(s)?

The only WIP I have currently with a title is Pull Me in Deeper. And like, how could I have an alternate title for that? It's perfect. It's SEXY. Like I might never come up with a better title ever again.

🍄Describe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”  

Amren chaos + unbreakable handcuffs = The most awkward weekend of Elain and Lucien's life.

♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP

I went back and read the original first outline of Pull Me in Deeper to see how much had changed. And boy, it was quite a bit. I had the very no good idea when I first wrote the outline and didn't know shit what I was doing with the worldbuilding to have Eris and Alexius only use the vision that Aria/Fiadh shows them as their evidence and then they leave. XD This was clearly before I really fleshed out the unicorns or Alexius' plot with them. So I'm glad I scrapped that and went with the more exciting action/adventure plot.

🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

Here is a little tease of the next chapter of Pull Me in Deeper. I wrote this tonight.

Usually this was the point that Eris would flip him over and take control, but Eris still laid beneath him, pliant and warm. He tilted his head back slightly and Alexius sought out his lips, sliding his tongue into his mouth as he grinded against him. Eris kissed him back in firm strokes, letting Alexius know he was very much awake and very much choosing to still lay beneath him. Alexius took that as a sign to keep going.

Writer's procrastination asks

[westleywithatea]

Lost a fanfic

Word Count: 1200+

There was a The Sandman fanfic on AO3 that I had read long ago. I neglected to record or even look at the title and author of the story. And now i lost it. But i want to return and reread it. Or check if it updated.  Help me find it.

I first read it in maybe february or March 2023. I don't know when it was first published or updated. I didn't checked the date. I neglected to. It’s a bad habit where i read a bunch of short fics in a single night, not care for title, and focus more on word and chapter count. Because “i wanted something short.” 

This habit carries over in my YT watching habits and is equally bad. Something to do with attention span and stuff. 

Whenever I return to the site to find it, i fail. The tags and filters fail me. Somehow, it always brings me to less than x number of fics. When I am absolutely sure that there are more than x number of fics with the tags/characters/filters I'm looking for. Maybe because some writers neglected or selectively chooses some tags. 

Idk. the filters weren't helping me. 

Lets see what I can remember about the fanfic and tags and characters. Spoilers below:

I vaguely recall a “angst with happy ending” tag. Im pretty sure the rating was E for explicit. There were some rather graphic scenes. Was it graphic? What if it was actually M for Mature?? 

Idr other tags/ warnings. WIP story. Idr word count and chapter count. 3 chapters? ??

Lucienne and Death makes appearances. Some original characters. Idr order of scenes and chapters. 

Dream arrives to the old tavern but it’s in ruins. Abandoned. He explores and finds a box. It’s a bit stuck but he finds a note. A letter. With holes and missing words. Some other things might’ve been in the box but prolly stolen? A stick inside the box to hold in place. The letter is really old and fragile. It does contain some instructions on where and how to find him. (later revealed to be really outdated) 

He walks to the The New Inn. idr if he steps inside or not. But maybe he did. Maybe he didn't but later. He orders a drink. Wine? Poor employee girl didn't know what to do with gold coins and gets sand blown into her face too many times. Too many times and so much dreamsand that she has to take a break or something and ask another employee to take over. Morpheus rereads the letter over and over.  Accidentally tears it in anger, but catches himself. Makes a mental note ot have it laminated. Dream tries to talk to the owner of the inn. There’s a picture and a plaque. Something about fake name and reall name. Drunk Hob revealed his real name and it became an “inside joke.” But nothing much else. Dream is sad. 

He walks around the neighborhood. And a school campus. He gets recognized by someone. She recognized him from somewhere. Asked if he knew Robert/Hob Gadling/ fake name. Prof Gadling talked about his stranger a lot. She was a student/ student teacher under his mentorship. Or something. She kept close contact with him for while. Even when he left the university and went traveling. Even when she got her degrees and became a professor. But some point stopped. 

Idr her name. 

She invited Dream to coffee to talk. She shared / showed things on her phone. Didn't work out. 

Sad moment where Dream finds out that she and Robert had sent each other so many emails while he only has one letter. He admits that he is someone who is hard to contact. 

She mentioned visiting his old house. There was a large framed painting of him. Thats how she recognized dream. He never sat for a picture. “You’re telling me he got it commissioned?” 

Dream tried visiting the old house. Hob had moved out. New family moved in. let him borrowed a phone. Landline? Im pretty sure theres some humor of him not knowing how to operate the phone. 

Meanwhile, Death visits  a museum of ancient Egyptian stuff. Hob is there looking at a statue of Anubis. He asked if they always looked like that. Death responds, sometimes. Startles him. He didn't see or hear her arrive. They meet and talk. She explains (and apologizes) that she is responsible for his immortality. And her brother is his stranger. He laughed. I think. He asked questions. No answers. Sad sad. 

He was about to ask another question but gets distracted by a school trip group of students. Death slips away. Hob gets frustrated. 

Hob gone traveling alot .

Some point Dream tries contacting Death. Asked if hob's well / alive. Yes. 

Btw, death arrived wearing a different outfit and holding a snake. But she later changes to typical tank top and jeans. Brings the snake back wherever it was previously. 

She takes Dream to a cliff?? Unless this from a diff fanfic. Idk. but they talked at the cliff over the ocean. Idr the conversations. 

Dream visits hob’s dreams. 

We see Hob entering his old house with arms full of wine and food. Dream is disguised as a raven. It’s raining. Robert sees the raven and tells “it” to leave to somewhere safe and dry. Get out of rain and get dry.  Hob  knocks on his front door after struggling to get his keys. Opens. Enter. We see lots of shoes and coats. Dream the Raven sneaks into the house.

We meet the (former) boyfriend who is an “older” man. They laugh, joke, kiss, and talked. Ex BF asked when will Hob ask the question. What question? Marriage. Ex explained: grandfather and father got dementia at age 50. And he’s turning 50 in a few years. They fight. Sad. 

Scene shifts. The painting is visible now. Obvious on the wall. Raven disguise disappear. Dream walked up the stairs to a door slightly ajar. He spies inside and sees a copy of himself. Sorta. Whatever Hob imagines his stranger would’ve looked like if nude. Description of Hob’s version of Dream is different from the real Dream in body shape. 

Hob is (smut scene) bottom to Dream’s top. 

Lovely description of what Morpheus would’ve done in 1000 yrs ago, 100 yrs ago, 10 yrs ago, now. (Not those exact numbers or era. Idr. ) In a few sentences. Maybe it was 3. Morpheus stays and observes. Pervert. 

Hob asked Morpheus if he will stay after he wakes up. He responds, yes. (cries) 

Real Morpheus quietly leaves. The voices in the bedroom are still very loud. 

Out of the water, Lucienne arrives with an umbrella. It’s raining hard. 

They visit the library and look thru Hob’s books. Lucienne silently screams at every accidental dog-ear and mishandle of pages. I would too. Hob has entries: wha’ts teh point of dreaming anymore. And stuff. Sad stuff. Angry stuff. 

Morpheus in frustration. Throws book at wall. Book breaks and falls apart. Lucienne is hurt. Me too. He says something to her, angry. She tells him “then you must leave my library” and snaps her fingers. Forces him out and slams the doors. She picks up the book and carefully rearranges the pages and binding. Sets aside in a book press. “You’re a good book.” Awww

And that was the ending. No more updates at that date and time. 

Story obviously WIP. 

[stellamancer]

a wip (that i’ll never finish)—

notes: i wrote this a while back, back when i started &hiaa (so sometime in 2021?) i figured i’d write the full fic, but i don’t think it’s gonna happen, but i liked this bit a lot, so i figured i’d share it for deku’s birthday. 

"You didn't come after me." 

You mean for the words to come out plainly, like a statement of fact, detached and indifferent, but instead they sound like an accusation, pained and betrayed.

"I…" Deku's voice is hesitant, careful, like he’s dealing with a wild and caged animal. In a way, you suppose he is. "I knew you'd come back."

You snort, the harshness of the sound disturbing the otherwise still night. It’s just like him to look for the best in you; it’s what he does, what he will always do and right now— right now, it hurts. You try not to think about it, choosing to hide your heart with derisive words instead. “You don’t know that. I could have run off and made my escape.”

"No." His voice is firm— absolute and all it makes you want to do is prove him wrong. He takes a step toward you, his bright green eyes glowing eerily in the moonlight. The warning bells go off in your head. Danger! Danger! 

"Even if you ran, I'd catch you, no matter where you went," Deku says, his voice quiet. It sounds less like a threat and more like a truth that neither he nor you can possibly deny. You tell yourself it’s the former though; it’s a threat. He’s a threat. Your body grows tense, your fight or flight response kicking it into high gear. 

"If… If I didn't know any better, I'd almost say that was meant to be romantic," you remark, making one last jab at him before you make a break for it. 

Deku’s eyes narrow for a split second before you whirl around and race to the door.  

But he is faster, impossibly so, with his stupid green light show and instead of running into the distance to see how far he's willing to chase you, you run head first into the broadness of his chest.

"See?” he murmurs softly. 

"That's hardly fair," you complain into the fabric of his shirt, considering if you should struggle or not. You both know that he’s much stronger than you are or ever will be. "You're a hero, you're supposed to play fair."

He chuckles a little and the sound is warm and far too welcome in your ears. “...sorry.”

"No, you're not."

"...and, if I'm not?" There’s a shift in his voice, deeper, sultry even and it sends shivers down your spine. 

You pull away and glare at him, indignant and ready to berate him, accuse him of heresy, betrayal and false advertisement.

But, it, you soon find, is a mistake.

His eyes peer down at you, nearly devoid of the wide innocence they held the day you first met.  In its place is something different, some emotion, profound and frankly dangerous, that you dare not name. His gaze is hypnotizing, the emerald glow holding you hostage. He starts to lean down toward you and the alarms are blaring in your ears so loud that it's deafening.

Danger! Danger! Danger! 

You know what’s about to happen and a voice in your head begs you, desperately and helplessly to stop it. You can’t let it happen. You can’t let him touch you. If you do, you know in your heart, in your soul and in every fiber of your being that it will be all over. This farce of a facade that you’ve crudely erected has already begun to crumble in Deku’s wake. With his touch, it’ll completely erode away, and then… 

What happens then? 

You have to evade him. You have to dodge. Turn your head, take a step back, push him away. Something. Anything. But even though you know that, you still can’t move; your body held in place by the spell of his eyes.

Deku’s hands reach up to cup your cheeks, his touch feather light and heart-achingly sweet. He presses his forehead to yours, and his eyes, thankfully, flutter shut. You’d think that’d free you, but still the hex remains and you cannot move. 

There’s nothing you can do now but wait for the guillotine to drop and for Deku to end your life as you know it with a kiss of death.

You wait.

And wait.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead he whispers, his breath hot and intoxicating in the limited space between you. “C-can I…?”

You almost laugh. Almost. He came this far on his own, smashed down your walls and burrowed himself in your heart and now he decides he wants to ask permission. Ridiculous.

Absolutely ridiculous.

But that’s part of his charm, you suppose.

It’s so very like Deku to give you the chance, the choice to turn tail, to back out and try to go back to the way things were before when you both know that things are way too gone. Everything has already been in motion: there’s no stopping it now.

You don’t want to anyway.

“Just kiss me already,” you demand as if you are not already reaching up, reaching for him, intent on doing the deed yourself if he’s not fast enough.

But he is faster, impossibly so and in an instant his lips collide with yours, desperate and eager as his hands grasp at you as if you might change your mind and slip from his grasp. 

You’ve always known it, but Deku is a force of nature all on his own, surging forward and you vaguely register your back colliding with the door behind you. It makes you gasp just a tiny bit and that opening is enough for Deku’s tongue to slip in, eager to taste you even more. 

Everything starts to blur until the moment he pulls away, panting and breathless. 

“Are you done yet?” you ask as the cool night air fills your lungs.

“No.” His answer barely registers in your brain before his lips are back on yours.