#mystrade monday prompt

[starkraivennemad]

Noticing

“Careful…” Greg Lestrade teased quietly.

Mycroft Holmes whose Mach speed on a slow day mind was elsewhere, but always attuned to the man next to him, focused his attention. “Pardon?”

Greg blatantly looked away. “For a moment there I thought you might sing.”

“Sing!” Mycroft scoffed, “What makes you think I would do something like that?!”

“You…” Greg bit his lip in failing effort to not grin. “You were… humming. Happily, so. I’m honored you’ve knocked down those ice blocks you surround yourself with, to relax enough for that.” Greg looked as though he was about to place a hand on his forearm, but stopped himself, “Thank you.”

It was not the first time Mycroft noticed such abortive moves from Gregory.

But it was the first time he noticed.

Noticed the thing Gregory had been trying to hide from him.

Noticed how he was showing him in subtle ways now, without upsetting the wall.

Noticed when Greg sometimes retracted from that wall, if it became too cold.

Noticed Gregory was correct - the ice blocks were mostly gone.

And noticed the only person trying to rebuild them was Mycroft himself.

Years ago, after one bad relationship too many Mycroft sealed his heart away and swore never again. The blocks were the sickening touch of fear, secured away in emotional ice.

The fear of letting himself be vulnerable again.

The fear of trusting someone to not hurt him again.

Gregory was subtly showing that HE was the someone Mycroft could have those things -vulnerability, trust, more– again.

Moreover, Mycroft noticed Gregory alone had been making all the moves, patiently waiting for Mycroft to make one.

“You know how I feel! You reciprocate!” He reached for Gregory for the first time, purposely humming in happiness.

“I do. And I have… for over a year, Mycroft, but I needed you to know it for yourself...” Greg beamed at the humming and their joined hands, “…not because I told you.”

Mycroft swallowed the fear, looked the waiting man in the eyes, and mentally kicked the last ice cinderblocks between them away. “I love you. And I’d very much like for you to be mine, Gregory.”

--------------------------------- @flashfictionfridayofficial @mystradepromptsandscenarios

[mystradepromptsandscenarios]

Mystrade Monday Prompt #17

For December 26, 2022

“You murdered my snowman.”

The game is to write a flash fic this weekend and post it here (or with a link to the fic on AO3) on Monday with the hashtag Mystrade Monday.

Flash fiction is a complete story that is less than 1,000 words. 360mg is complete fic of 360 words with the last two beginning with “M” and “G” in any order. Please spread the word.

Hot tip: If you tag @mystradepromptsandscenarios then we’ll reblog it.

[mostlymay]

'I can help with that'

“If you ever wanted that again… if you ever wanted to be with someone in that way… let me know. I can give that to you.” 

The words were spoken like a promise—honest and gentle, and with so much sincerity that Mycroft hadn’t known how to respond. 

Two weeks had passed since their drunken encounter, and Mycroft’s hangover still hadn’t quite left him. At this point, he wasn’t confident it ever would. 

They’d met on a Friday for drinks at Baker Street—just a small get-together, Mrs Hudson had promised. Just something quiet. 

Though she’d been correct in stating that only a handful of people would be in attendance, her something quiet had been anything but. 

By ten p.m., Mycroft had given up on declining her relentless offer of cocktails. An hour later, and he was tucked up on the couch with Inspector Lestrade, not an inch of space between them. 

Mycroft didn’t know what Mrs Hudson put in her cocktails, but he felt very strongly that the effects needed to be studied. 

Three drinks in, and Mycroft was baring his soul to Lestrade, telling him that he was lonely; that his job in fact didn’t keep him warm at night; that he missed having a lover to go to bed with. 

Lestrade listened with care, his eyes glittering softly as he reached out a hand to touch Mycroft’s knee. 

“If you ever wanted that again,” he whispered. “If you ever wanted to be with someone in that way… let me know. I can give that to you.” 

Mycroft’s pulse leapt. The room seemed to fall quiet around them. 

“It’s been years since...” The words caught in Mycroft’s throat. “I can’t even recall the last time I kissed someone.” 

He glanced at Lestrade’s mouth, overcome. 

Lestrade gave his knee a gentle squeeze. “I can help with that,” he said, and pressed his lips to Mycroft’s. 

“D’you wanna get out of here?” He mumbled against Mycroft’s lips. “Your place, maybe? Or mine, if you prefer. I don’t care… s’long as I get to run my hands all over you.” 

Mycroft nodded, breathless, before pressing his lips back to Gregory’s mouth. 

———————————————

Mystrade Monday Prompt #89

For May 13, 2024

"I can help with that.”

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

[mimisempai]

You know me

Summary

Reflecting on his breakfast, prepared by Mycroft as he does every morning, Greg realizes how well his lover knows him.

Notes

Mystrade Monday  4.0  #3 - “I just want to get to know you.”

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

On AO3

459 words - Rating G

Greg entered the kitchen with a yawn, his eyes still a little hazy from sleep, and the first thing his senses awoke to was the smell of coffee and toast.

Mycroft had his back to him, pouring coffee into two cups.

Greg walked over to him and, wrapping his arms around his lover's waist, said, "Morning," in a voice hoarse with sleep.

Mycroft put the cups down, turned and, after a light peck on Greg's lips, said softly, "Good morning, Greg. Did you sleep well?"

Greg pulled away from Mycroft and walked over to the table as Mycroft placed a cup of coffee in front of him and sat down across from him.

"Too well."

"I noticed that. You didn't even move when I got up."

Greg laughed softly before picking up his cup of coffee and taking a sip, enjoying the way the hot liquid went down his throat.

Then he looked down at the plate in front of him.

Two perfectly toasted slices of bread, both buttered, one with jam and the other without.

In a small bowl, a soft boiled egg that he knew was also cooked just the way he liked it.

A glass of water at just the right temperature.

And finally, the newspaper folded next to his plate.

All prepared by Mycroft, just the way Greg liked it, because Mycroft knew him.

"How do you like your eggs in the morning? Your bread, properly toasted or not? Butter, jam, honey or something else on the toast? Coffee, tea or something else?"

It was their first morning together and Greg, not yet wide awake, was faced with an onslaught of questions. 

"Mycroft, I love you, you know that. But can we wait until I've had my first cup of coffee to start the interrogation?"

Mycroft handed him a cup of coffee and replied shyly, "I just want to get to know you. What you like, your preferences."

Greg smiled fondly and, giving Mycroft a little nudge on the shoulder, replied softly, "If you want to make a list of the perfect breakfast for Gregory Lestrade, the first essential is a good morning kiss."

Mycroft didn't hesitate to provide the first item on the list, and after exchanging a tender kiss with his lover, he asked, "What about the rest of the list?"

"You'll learn as we go along."

Mycroft had learned.

Every morning, Greg's breakfast was perfect.

There was something amazing about being loved by someone who knew you so well, even in such small things as the way you liked your eggs cooked.

Greg reached across the table to take Mycroft's hand and kissed the palm of it gently.

"Thank you."

Mycroft squeezed his hand in his own and replied simply, "You're welcome."

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Mystrade mondays 4.0 : here

Mystrade masterlist here

[aworldofgoldfish]

“You realise you sound like a jerk, right?” “I am aware, yes. So you know, the time and effort you give to and for my brother will be rewarded.” Greg set the glass of the side table and stood. “No. I’ll do my best to help Sherlock.” He strolled to the door. “Thanks for the invitation. You owe me dinner.”  Mycroft followed him with his gaze. “Some other time, Detective Sergeant.” “I’ll hold you to that, Mycroft.”

On a Knife Edge [T] in AO3

Written for @mystradepromptsandscenarios "You owe me dinner."

[stellacartography]

The Bold and the Bruised

A 360MG for the prompt "I don't want to get out of bed."

...

The buzzing of his dying phone woke Mycroft first. He opened his eyes to a darkened room and the twinge in his back drove him out of the armchair in which he'd fallen asleep. He stood stiffly and used the light of his phone screen to find his way to the door. His hand had scarcely touched the knob when a moan from the bed made him turn back.

(continued under the cut)

"Oh, fuckin- god..." came the pained blasphemy from the far side of the bed.

"Greg," Mycroft said, keeping his voice low. "I'm here. Do you recall what happened?"

Greg's low whimper drew Mycroft back to the bed. He sat down carefully beside Greg's legs.

"I don't want to get out of bed," Greg moaned.

"Nor should you. Do you know your name?" Mycroft asked, smoothing the covers with an anxious hand.

"It's Greg. But you just told me that." Greg's speech was slow and imprecise but he was thinking more clearly than the last time they had spoken.

Mycroft could just make out the shape of Greg's face in the dimness. "You were hurt. You have a concussion."

"Mmm. Yep. 'S what it feels like."

"Best not to speak. Rest, please. I offered to stay with you for the duration of your medically mandated rest period, but I can leave if there's someone..." Mycroft trailed off as Greg's hand wrapped around his own.

"Stay. Thanks." Greg did not let go as he settled into the pillows and closed his eyes again.

"Let me bring you a drink," Mycroft offered. "Squeeze my hand for yes."

Greg did.

"Will you be alright if I leave to get it now?"

Greg squeezed. And smiled, eyes still closed.

"I'll return shortly."

"Fussin' over me," Greg rasped. He still hadn't released Mycroft's hand. Mycroft was loath to force the issue, but startled as Greg's thumb stroked his hand.

"Rather my job at the moment."

"You like to, though," Greg stated cheekily. (Correctly.)

"Rest," Mycroft insisted, giving Greg's hand a squeeze. "I won't be long."

"Mycroft," Greg began, tugging him closer.

"Yes?"

"Always knew you'd get me into bed somehow. Didn't picture it like this."

Mycroft gaped.

Tagging: @mystradepromptsandscenarios

Image by rawpixel.com on Freepik

[lady-chibineko]

Puedo ayudar con eso

Gregory Lestrade respiró profundamente... para evitar reírse.

Y es que si se le escapaba la risita que la situación le producía, seguro y su amado esposo pasaría del estado de exaltado frenesí en el que estaba, a otro de cólera segura en menos de un parpadeo. Y es que Mycroft estaba tratando de arreglar el almuerzo en el que Gregory había estado trabajando desde hacía un par de horas, como hacía todos los domingos en los que ambos coincidían en casa, desde hacía ya cinco años, mismo tiempo que llevaban viviendo juntos pasando de amantes, a pareja oficial y finalmente a esposos. Greg nunca se cansaría de agradecer a Anthea por esos preciosos días juntos, porque sin ella, Mycroft no aclararía su agenda nunca, y siempre se aseguraba de agradecérselo a la mujer con algún detalle por aquí o por allá. Y con el tiempo, la asistente personal de Mycroft había llegado incluso a esperar con ilusión esos pequeños detalles, además de ver con satisfacción como su empleador por fin tenía una verdadera vida propia.

Y en cuanto a la situación del momento, bueno, sucedía de vez en cuando, en serio.

Gregory era completamente consciente de que a Mycroft no se le quemaba el agua solo por el mero hecho de que el hombre vivía de té; pero todo lo demás entraba en el área de desastre a la vista, sobretodo porque mientras crecía, Mycroft nunca había sido muy adepto a siquiera aprender a freírse un huevo; pero su señor esposo era terco cuando quería, y una vez que soltaba la frase "Puedo ayudar con eso", Greg sabía que todo iba a irse al traste en pocos minutos.

Un gruñido siguió a un chisporroteo de aceite desde la sartén donde Mycroft intentaba por todos los medios, y de manera infructuosa, salvar los filetes de pescado a medio freír que Greg se había pasado la mañana marinando.

- ¡Puedo arreglarlo! ¡Solo espera y verás! - insistió Mycroft corriendo hacia el cajón donde Greg guardaba los guantes de cocina que generalmente solo sacaba cuando hacía algo en el horno, y volvía a tomar la espátula en un intento de darle la vuelta a los filestes sin morir en el intento.

Greg no dijo nada, limitándose solo a asentir, morderse los labios y ver al siempre compuesto ‘Hombre de hielo’ del Gobierno Británico, perder los estribos ante los filetes que se quemaban por partes... por no mencionar el olor a quemado y el humo oscuro que ya inundaban la cocina.

Y bueno... un fin de semana con pizza y pan al ajo no los había matado antes, y no lo haría ahora.

Mejor ir buscando el momento adecuado para marcar a la pizzería y hacer el pedido, sin que Mycroft se diese cuenta… y de paso le pedía a Angelo que incluyese una bonita rosa roja sobre la caja, para que luego de apagar el fuego, se apagase también la molestia de Mycroft.

Y ahora… ¿Dónde estaba el extintor?

The End

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

[never-let]

Journey to childhood (990 words) by NeverLET Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade Characters: Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes Additional Tags: Mystrade Monday Prompts, Birthday Presents Summary: After Greg visits Myroft's parents an idea comes to his mind.

[starkraivennemad]

Attitude

Greg found himself in an unexpected fit of giggles when a phrase innocently fell from Mycroft’s lips.

“Oh, that is your puerile thoughts giggle…”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Greg brought a serviette to his lips. “It was an inside joke with my family.”

“Oh?” Mycroft brows furrowed trying to fathom how what he said while semi-jokingly kvetching about a colleague could cause such.

“It started with Mum fussing with my dad. Went over my head at first because I was too young. Took a bit to get the correlation.” Greg turned a little pink. “Once I did? It was weeks before I could keep a straight face when heard.”

Greg knew Mycroft knew him well, he understood Mycroft was aware he was stalling by the indulgent little smile that played at his lips as he made a go on gesture.

“When Mum was in a… let’s say flirtatious mood and didn’t want me to know she would comment on Papa’s attitude. How Papa had a lot of attitude. Or if Papa was in a mood that was reciprocated, she’d tease ‘not with that attitude!’”

“Ah…” Mycroft nodded, getting the correlation as he had just said the words himself. “Not that it was meant the same when said to you, I gather.”

“Goodness no!” Greg shuddered with a laugh. “I eventually cottoned on. I was using it myself for a while, calling it my attitude, but like most jokes told too often, it eventually lost its humor. With some notable exceptions.”

Because he knew Mycroft well, Greg watched as Mycroft studied him.

“You have commented on my attitude several times of late, Gregory.”

“I know...”

Greg saw the surprise as those mental wheels spun.

He saw when the conclusion was reached.

And he saw Mycroft’s understandably wary, but definite happiness of that conclusion.

“Are you saying you meant it in the same context as your female progenitor?”

“I am…”

“You want…”

“All of your attitude…? I do.”

“So, you’ve realized that thought is…reciprocated?”

“Oh yes, I have…”

They sat acknowledging the screaming unsaid.

“Shall we… check our attitudes then?”

“Oh, lets.”

Greg smiled taking Mycroft’s hand.

Signaling for the check, Mycroft grinned.

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

[mystradepromptsandscenarios]

Mystrade Monday Prompt #18

For January 2, 2023

“Fuck it. Let’s get drunk.”

The game is to write a flash fic this weekend and post it here (or with a link to the fic on AO3) on Monday with the hashtag Mystrade Monday.

Flash fiction is a complete story that is less than 1,000 words. 360mg is complete fic of 360 words with the last two beginning with “M” and “G” in any order. Please spread the word.

Hot tip: If you tag @mystradepromptsandscenarios then we’ll reblog it.

[dapetty]

@msladysmith

'I can help with that'

“If you ever wanted that again… if you ever wanted to be with someone in that way… let me know. I can give that to you.” 

The words were spoken like a promise—honest and gentle, and with so much sincerity that Mycroft hadn’t known how to respond. 

Two weeks had passed since their drunken encounter, and Mycroft’s hangover still hadn’t quite left him. At this point, he wasn’t confident it ever would. 

They’d met on a Friday for drinks at Baker Street—just a small get-together, Mrs Hudson had promised. Just something quiet. 

Though she’d been correct in stating that only a handful of people would be in attendance, her something quiet had been anything but. 

By ten p.m., Mycroft had given up on declining her relentless offer of cocktails. An hour later, and he was tucked up on the couch with Inspector Lestrade, not an inch of space between them. 

Mycroft didn’t know what Mrs Hudson put in her cocktails, but he felt very strongly that the effects needed to be studied. 

Three drinks in, and Mycroft was baring his soul to Lestrade, telling him that he was lonely; that his job in fact didn’t keep him warm at night; that he missed having a lover to go to bed with. 

Lestrade listened with care, his eyes glittering softly as he reached out a hand to touch Mycroft’s knee. 

“If you ever wanted that again,” he whispered. “If you ever wanted to be with someone in that way… let me know. I can give that to you.” 

Mycroft’s pulse leapt. The room seemed to fall quiet around them. 

“It’s been years since...” The words caught in Mycroft’s throat. “I can’t even recall the last time I kissed someone.” 

He glanced at Lestrade’s mouth, overcome. 

Lestrade gave his knee a gentle squeeze. “I can help with that,” he said, and pressed his lips to Mycroft’s. 

“D’you wanna get out of here?” He mumbled against Mycroft’s lips. “Your place, maybe? Or mine, if you prefer. I don’t care… s’long as I get to run my hands all over you.” 

Mycroft nodded, breathless, before pressing his lips back to Gregory’s mouth. 

———————————————

Mystrade Monday Prompt #89

For May 13, 2024

"I can help with that.”

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

[mimisempai]

Clear-cut

Summary

Greg is in hospital and injured. When Mycroft finds him, he tries to play down the seriousness of his injuries, but Mycroft has had enough and wants the unvarnished truth.

Notes

Mystrade Monday  3.0  #10 - Character A likes to include half-truths and tall-tales in their stories and Character B likes to keep track of them. (I deviated a little from it) 

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

On AO3

804 words - Rating G

"Greg! What the hell happened?"

The doctor who had just finished treating Greg turned to Mycroft and said, "Sir, you shouldn't be here..." 

Greg replied to Mycroft, "I'm fine."

Mycroft frowned and Greg sighed before insisting, "It's just a few scratches."

He folded his shirt sleeve over the bandage the doctor had just applied to his arm. 

"Monsieur Lestrade, we were this close to transfusing you, so don't minimize your injuries."

"And perhaps I didn't want my partner to worry!" 

Then, seeing Mycroft's exasperated expression, he added, "I certainly didn't mean to tell him like that."

Mycroft came and stood by the bed as he replied, "You would have minimized it even more. You'd probably only have told me half the story. I know how you are. Although I usually like to decipher your tall tales, this time it's not the case. This is serious, Greg."

Greg struggled to keep his eyes open and whispered, "But I swear I'm fine."

The doctor interjected, "I'd rather keep you overnight. "

Mycroft, knowing Greg would protest, intervened, "I'll take him home. I promise to keep an eye on him, Doctor."

Greg grimaced. They'd planned a dinner and now he'd ruined it.

"I'm sorry."

Mycroft took his hand and squeezed it gently into his own.

"Don't be. It won't be at the restaurant, but we'll spend the evening together anyway." 

Then he turned to the doctor and asked, "Is there anything I should be aware of?"

"Just keep an eye on him for the next 24 hours. Even if the wound isn't as deep as we first thought, it's still a total of sixty stitches in three different places."

Halfsmiling, Greg replied, "You should have seen the look of my opponent".

"Your opponent?!" 

Greg replied sheepishly, "The glass door to my sister's balcony."

"Greg..."

"I couldn't help it, she had cleaned it too well, I didn't see that it was closed and ran into it at full speed. Apparently there was already a crack and it literally exploded from the shock."

Feeling exhaustion wash over him, Greg added with a sigh, "Can we go home now? "

The doctor took pity on him and nodded.

Greg sighed in relief.

Mycroft asked gently, "Can you walk?" 

Greg grimaced and replied, "With help I should be fine."

Thirty minutes later, supported by Mycroft, Greg made his way as best he could through the door of their apartment.

His lover helped him make himself comfortable on the sofa before sitting down beside him, a worried expression on his face. 

Greg put his hand on Mycroft's knee and said quietly, "I assure you, I'm all right."

Mycroft wrapped his arm gently around Greg's shoulders and held him close before asking quietly, "Why didn't you want me to know? "

Greg dropped his head against Mycroft's chest and replied, "It's not that I didn't want to, but I wanted to tell you so that you wouldn't worry as much as you do now."

Mycroft harrrumpha, "Idiot, I'll always worry, and probably more if you don't tell me things as they are. No secrets, no half-truths, just the facts."

Greg nodded as Mycroft continued, "With you, when it comes to your well-being, your mental or physical health, I don't want to have to use my insight or deductive skills, I'd rather you told me plain and simple."

Greg nodded again, and after a few moments he muttered, "Mycroft."

"Hm?"

"It really hurts. I could use a painkiller."

Mycroft pressed a kiss to his lover's hair and replied, "I'll get you what you need right away."

He gently positioned Greg on the sofa, elevated his injured arm with a pillow, then went to get what his lover needed. He returned a few moments later with a pill and a glass of water, which he handed to Greg. When Greg had swallowed the pill and drunk the glass, Mycroft asked him gently, "Is there anything else you need?"

Greg nodded and replied, "Just one thing."

"Tell me, love?"

"That you take me in your arms."

Mycroft chuckled softly before sitting down next to Greg and wrapping his arms around him, holding him to his chest while being careful with his injured arm.

He planted a kiss on Greg's forehead and asked, "Is everything all right?"

Greg replied, "It's not the best I've ever been, but you're making it better."

He pressed a kiss to Mycroft's chest and added, "And that's not a half-truth."

Mycroft laughed lightly and tightened his arm around his lover, saying softly, "Try to get some sleep. I'll be here if you need anything."

Greg yawned and grumbled, "'kay..."

The backlash and the painkiller soon got the better of him and he fell fast asleep in Mycroft's arms. As for Mycroft, he didn't sleep and watched over his lover's sleep until he woke up again.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Mystrade mondays 3.0 : here

Mystrade masterlist here

[aworldofgoldfish]

The long fingers thread through his hair. "Tell me." What? It sometimes feels like an affair with a scorpio, and medicine won't help. Sometimes, it feels as if he's surrendering to Mycroft, during a war that doesn't exist.

Sometimes, he is so out of his depth, he's swimming with sharks. And if any of them has the ability to smell blood, his blood, that's Mycroft.

Endeavours [T] in AO3

Written for @mystradepromptsandscenarios "Can I kiss you right now?"

[stellacartography]

Hydrostatic

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade

Characters: Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade

Additional Tags: Angst, breaking up, Not A Happy Ending

Series: Part 2 of Surface Tension

Summary: Written for Mystrade Monday Prompt #80, "Where are we supposed to go from here?"

Set in the Fluid Dynamics universe, but if you haven't read it, Mycroft and Greg got together while at university. Now their career paths are tearing them apart. This is not a happy fic. Consider yourself duly warned.

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

[johannadc]

For today's Mystrade Monday prompt from @mystradepromptsandscenarios -- which was "I think he knows." -- I wrote a little something in the same universe as my story "Oh, Thank God, Sherlock Found a Friend".

"It's About Time They Got Together" is a short bit of silliness where Mycroft and Greg find out Sherlock and John have gotten together. So they plan their own perfect date to settle their bet.

[ewebie]

2023: An Author's Review

I've gotten in the habit (over the past 10+ years) of posting an author's review of what I've done on AO3. Since I started my Patreon, I've been posting it here and sharing across Tumblr and Twitter (*cough* I mean X? *cough*). I think it's good to take stock, be honest about what was possible and look and what I want for the next year. So here it is:

2023... I am not sure I'd say "astonishing" but it was a year of surprises (good and bad). It was a busy and chaotic year, but I really have been on a healing journey and both mentally and physically am much better than this time last year.

Hubs and made a temporary (planned for one year) move across the Atlantic in 2022 and came back to Ireland in July 2023. I was working part/full-time with research and grant writing, doing hands on clinical and remote parts. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would, though it was much more sedentary than what I'm used to for a day's work. It's been rough coming back... the stress on the systems from the pandemic and (frankly) fucking conservatives ruining anything good has made remaining here untenable. After losing my FIL in the autumn and my own family having ongoing health scares, Hubs and I have decided to go back to the US in 2024... So... it's been a bit of a limbo.

Even with all the chaos of a move and work and... *gestures at everything* I did manage to accomplish a few things.

Summary of writing in 2023:

I set out with the goal of posting The Hayloft on a weekly posting schedule (without break) until complete. I'm SUPER proud of myself for managing that. It's >70k words and 38 chapters (with a 39th for ANs). Between the schedule, having 2 betas (thank you Paia and Sky), responding to comments, and the HTML bits of posting, it consumed a lot of my time (we won't mention that I finished writing it while posting)... But I'm very happy with the final product and with myself for keeping to the schedule.

In April, fresh out of 221B Con, I did a Mystrade Monday based on the prompt "Don't threaten me with a good time." It's a short one-shot, and lyric-based in title (Nod to Panic at the Disco) called Champagne, Cocaine, Gasoline. (because who doesn't want a damp Lestrade?)

So that brings us to May - when things started to get really busy as I prepped to move, and the Mystrade is Family collection, to which I submitted 2 fics. The first was in response to Paia sending me a tiktok: Mistakes Were Made (though not by me), tiktok is at the end of the fic. And I somewhat love Greg's much younger sister, Roxy. I also dipped back into the When You're Fast Asleep series with Think Happy Thoughts.

June and July were mental... packed up my life again, drove the length of the US, moved back to the other side of the Atlantic, moved BACK INTO my flat, repaired the car, resorted my jobs, lost my FIL, went back to the US for the funeral, went back to the US again for Thanksgiving. A lot of stress... not a lot of writing. But I did keep up with Hayloft posting and finished the end of September.

October, I took some of the nonsense in my real-life and the MRC server members' real-lives and made a fic strictly to name-shame people we met and or didn't like. Queue's Next was rather cathartic for that.

In November, I (finally) finished a fic for the RGBA for Lav. She'd asked for something in the Safety First/KKBB universe, and a pet... and we ended up with Blunderbuss. Because murder husbands needed an orange cat. And having dropped back into the Safety First universe, I added H is for Heel and I is for Industry Standards to the work.

Still a bit stuck in Safety First, I wrote a murder husbands Xmas fic with J is for Jingle Bells and put that up mid-December.

On Christmas Eve, I posted a soft short from the When You're Fast Asleep series called All Is Calm. The series really suits calm and warm drabble.

Because I was SO soft of Christmas Eve, I posted a SPICY short in Safety First on Christmas Day called K is for Knife's Edge. And just to round out the year, I dropped a New Year's Eve present with L is for Line of Sight. 

Overall, I published shy of 100k words (though, I only wrote about 70k... Hayloft was mostly written coming into 2023, but all of the posting was this year) with 16k hits and I now have 380 user subscriptions and 7000 bookmarks. It was a solid effort and I've spent the year only writing Mystrade -- though... I've expanded my reading ships (for this I blame BeautifulFiction).

Plan for 2024: Keep myself sane. I have another few chapters for Safety First in the works... there's something so very compelling about the murder husbands. I have 2 WIPs that are very nearly done and I just need to push through the last... 2k or so. So I hope to be putting those up in the first quarter. Be on the look out for The Marshmallow Experiment and Ambien Wife (though, those are both working titles). There’s a few bigger projects that I’ve back-burnered or have been plodding along with, including "the sad one" and "the Pretty Woman one" and some complex, multichapter things. Trello has been excellent this year to keep my bunnies sorted and in some sort of order.

Working titles of a few:

Lesser Things

Used Books

Wrecking Ball

The Time Has Come

Attack the Cheese Block

Of Legwork and Dogs Bodies

Make Yourself

Bad Santa

I hope to keep adding shorts to Safety First and Badges and 'Brellas (I didn't manage any in B&B in 2023... though, Champagne was short enough). I'm not going to aim for monthly new works, I know how much time and energy the move is going to take. I also will try to learn the new features here on Patreon and the collections thing... maybe organise this a bit better.

Many thanks to everyone who has beta'd works for me through the year (this year was mostly Paia -- many times for her many many sins, but also Sky for doing a French language beta on Hayloft, Anne and Stella for the on-demand, and Mousie for the murder feedback). Thank you to the Asylum (nee Jail) - you're all gremlins and I-A-Door-You! Thank you to the MRC for being just... whatever it is you are. And the OGC - because intercontinental chat groups are their own, special nonsense!

I want to thank my patrons (you can find me on patreon here... thank you for thanking me for existing!). Everyone that has left kudos and comments and reblogs and likes. Anyone who has dropped me a message or a thought and has generally enjoyed or encouraged my writing this past year. And those of you who followed Hayloft posting and commented along the way -- amazingly supportive! ILY all!!