#nano day 6

[hudders-and-hiddles]

half way let's goooooo

[oreoambitions]

I'm 6,000 words behind and I've completely lost the plot only ice cream can save us now

[thelittlestspider]

why is writing smut so hard (pun not intended lol)

[ambersky0319]

10 min breaks are not long enough lol

[andromedaexists]

Day 6 Update

Staying true to form, I wrote exactly nothing on CMI today. I did write 1,243 words, but none of them were on CMI.

I answered emails and advertised my Short Stories and get everything prepared for pushing forward in the publishing process. Good news: Cover Art will be underway soon (we're settling payment and deadlines right now) and I have an official publishing date! (if all things go well)

So yeah, no direct progress on CMI, but that's okay! I did get a really good description of Icarus written to that counts

Camp NaNo 2023

So... I have made the decision to join camp nano this year.

I wasn't originally planning on doing this on account of being burnt out and having to work and stuff but! Things have changed!

I'm still burnt out. I still have to work. However, I am more motivated than ever to get CMI done. Well, technically it's already done, I'm just completely re-writing it to make it align more with what I envision it to be now

So! Camp NaNo! My goal this month is 36k words. ~30k is finishing Call Me Icarus, the other 6k is writing two (2) horror short stories to submit to an anthology centering ASD and horror

So yeah! I guess y'all should be on the lookout for some more writing content from me here! In the meantime, enjoy this moodboard I made:

[etotruski]

König’s obsession

Part 1 (Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)

König x reader/f (is addressed as y/n or you)

Short note: Thank you to anyone who even wants to read this. Reuploads are highly asked for to reach other people and show my writing style. Feel free to give me feedback or requests for other stories or how this story shall continue. Thank you <3

Warning: This story will contain in the following parts some smut.

Word count: 1,477 

König, is a tall and powerful and extremely intimidating Colonel of KorTac.

He who kills brutally and is known for his ruthlessness and sternness had to be the one to train the new recruit, AKA y/n. Y/n standing at a height of 1,70 meters which was already tall for a woman looked like a dwarf standing next or in front of that damn hill. You couldn’t other than feel intimidated by him but still feel a bit of attraction. When you first joined he looked at you, as much as his eyes could express trough his sniper hood, more disapproving and disappointed than at his damn food. Why the food? Because the food you get is the same as in the military food supply bags, that means tons of chemicals and artificial sweeteners and all. But despite everything you still walked to him and you even were surprised at your actions, you greeted him with an outstretched hand.

“Hello Sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I am the new recruit y/n. I looked forward to our training.” 

You said trying not to seem intimidated at all, but he looked right through your facade. Despite his mask you could see by the way his eyes crinkled the tiniest slightest nano bit, he had a small smile. He was a bit impressed, because most men would’ve almost pissed their pants and begged for someone else to train them or the women would’ve either tried to seduce him or done the same as the men. But you didn’t do neither. Instead you greeted him politely. So he shook your hand firm and strong, trying to see if you’d back away and then said in his stick stained Austrian accent.

“Pleasure meeting you too.”

You still didn’t back down even though you flinched a bit at his hammer fricking grip. Finally after staring into your damn soul he let go and just made the hand motion to follow him. You couldn’t but sigh in relieve. You thought he was gonna break your hand or something. You then finally followed him and he said without even looking at you some hideous rules. 

“Here are the rules. First of all you’ll do anything I say without hesitation. Second of all I expect you to never be late. Third of all I’m not here to make friends so we’re going to stay colleagues. Forth of all you’re gonna have the same training as the men in my advision. Fifth of all don’t question anything I say, just do it…”

He just kept saying rule after rule after rule. You felt like your head is going to fucking explode and then when he finally was done he added.

“…any of the rules that will be broken will be heavily punished.”

You tried your hardest not to talk back or anything, because you didn’t want to land on his bad side. No one wants. Never. But the aggression you had bubbled and bubbled and bubbled until you said a bit angry but still tried to sound polite.

“What punishments?”

“Simple. No food for the rest of the day. More training and if you ever talk back very disrespectfully, no water till your training is finished.” 

Your aggression died down immediately. Now you absolutely didn’t want to piss that hulk man off. The attraction you felt in the beginning died down immediately. You stayed silent for the rest of the walk where he showed you around and then you ended up in the training hall. It’s the first day and you already trained for fucking 6 hours with only one pause. You felt like you were gonna die. Guess what he said next.

“You’re weak. You need to train more. This was only half the real training.”

You already felt like giving up, but you wouldn’t because of the goal you set yourself, so you just nodded. Then later you already also made an enemy. It was in the evening and you wanted to get food in the canteen when you didn’t let another new recruit called Ashley get in front of you in the line. So guess what she did. She made you trip on the way to a table. As if this day wasn’t enough she made you embarrass yourself in front of the whole canteen. So did the only thing logical, you lunge at her and tackle her to the ground. Little did you know that König watched everything from the beginning way back in the canteen. He watched you fight her and beat her damn ass before he ended up intervening and bringing you two to his office. He spoke in a stern and unemotional voice.

“Ashley, y/n. You two know why you’re here?”

At this point all your energy was drained so you just nodded while Ashley started to babble, exaggerate and try to guilt trip in her high pitched voice. 

“Sir, she started it. She punched me and did horrible things to me and probably broke my ribs! She is so mean and a menace and I feel so weak. Please punish her!”

At this point you didn’t even have the energy to fight against the things she said to you. He just stared at y/n with only a blue eye and then at Ashley, who had multiple blue spots over her face and body, along with some scratches and cuts due to the nails and tackling. She held her ribs way too dramatically for them to even have a cut. He looked right trough her. He then continued to speak, more firmly and angrily. 

“Are you lying to your superior?”

He tried to ask her to find out if she is going to lie more or not.

“What? NO! I could never!”

“Well then Ashley. You will get punished, because I saw everything happen from afar. But you y/n are in trouble too for going into it. But you Ashley are in serious trouble for lying to your Colonel. That is unacceptable. I will have you y/n advised to help in the kitchen cook and you Ashley to help clean the men and women toilets. I will note down what you did and I will give it to Laswell. If that will happen another 2 times, you will be kicked out of KorTac. Now you may leave. Y/n stay.”

You looked surprised at what he had said. Once she left angrily without trying to intervene against him, he looked at you serious but also with something else…was that proudness? No your mind must deceive you. You’re too tired.

“Y/n you should’ve known better than to act on your anger and best someone up. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

You stayed quiet for a moment before saying.

“No, Sir.”

“Y/n I do not want this to happen again. More self control next time. Did you understand soldier?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good you may leave now.”

The next week you had to cook in the canteen and on top of that train 7 hours with your Colonel. Because of all the exhaustion and training that flies past this week, you sometimes noticed how König looked at you during and after training whenever he saw you. Almost as if he was…obsessed but he hid it perfectly. But the eyes, they don’t lie.

But then next week people started staring at you or giving you weird and disgusted looks and you didn’t understand if your head was deceiving you at what came next.

**To be continued** 

[puttersmile]

Hopvember Day 6 & 11 Dogday and AU

I decided to work on how some characters look within the Critter Crossing AU. So decided to use Hoppy and Dogday as test subjects. Their world is set semi permanently within the 80s to 90s era so I tried drawing them in clothes reflecting that.

Bottom pic is casual wear. Top pic is what Dogday and Hoppy's jobs are. They are part of the Green Watch. Essentially island rangers. They keep over their local part of the island, watching out for nasty creatures and are trained to deal with them, keeping their community safe.

Short story of them doing just that!:

[writingdotcoffee]

The "Alt" NaNoWriMo Challenge

I'm a big fan of NaNoWriMo and the energy the event breathes into the writing community. Hundreds of thousands of people start working on their novels at the same time. Lots of people share their progress and cheer each other on. Several now-famous authors have started their best-selling novels during NaNo over the years.

That said, it's not for everyone. Writing 50,000 words per month is a serious commitment. Doing it alongside school or work is no joke. In fact, most people who sign up don't finish. According to these stats, only 1-2 out of every 10 participants complete the challenge.

I've never joined NaNoWriMo myself. I'm a slow writer, and I know that I would burn out. Instead, I set a different writing-related challenge for myself every November.

In 2018, I started reading one short story every day. It turned into a regular habit, and I ended up reading hundreds of short stories over the following few months.

Last year, I wanted to build a 30-day writing streak. In the end, I wrote for 232 days in a row. 2023 became the most productive year of my writing life by far with over 250,000 words written.

This year, I will be doing something similar, and I want to invite you to come along for the ride.

The Idea of "AltNaNo"

The idea of finishing a novel in a month seems outrageous to most people. That's what makes it so compelling. It's like standing at the foot of a snowcapped mountain with a rope and a couple of ice picks. The challenge itself is inspiring.

The AltNaNo challenge is the exact opposite. The goal is as small as possible on purpose. The focus isn't to achieve this massive feat but to squash all excuses and merely start writing.

You may not be able to write 50,000 words in a month. But almost everyone can find 15 minutes to write every day.

The Challenge

The goal is simple: Write for at least 15 minutes every day in November.

Writing 100 words and calling it a day after 15 minutes is a success.

Spending longer and writing 500 words is a success.

Wrestling with a difficult scene for 15 minutes and writing only a single sentence is a success.

Spending 15 minutes trying to write after a long day and not producing a single word is a success, too.

Be a tortoise. We all know how the story goes.

How to Join

I've set up daily challenges for the first week in Writing Analytics, if you wanted to join us there:

Day 1/30 ✅

Day 2/30 ✅

Day 3/30 ✅

Day 4/30 ✅

Day 5/30 ✅

Day 6/30 ✅

Day 7/30 ✅

I'll be posting daily updates on the blog as well.

PS: If you'd like to learn more about developing a writing habit, check out this free course I launched a few weeks ago.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

kicking and screaming, 2:30 to 7:40 is, in fact, Worse

disgusted and appalled to report that i am so so so sleepy after going to bed at 2:30 this morning when i KNEW my alarm would be coming for me at 8:40

[duskyashe]

CAMP NANO DAY 6

[chapter 4] [AO3]

(please see tags for trigger warnings)

============<×^-^×>============

It was a little known fact that Bruce Wayne hadn't only fostered his boys. As one of the few above-the-board trained and highly experienced foster parents in Gotham, Bruce had actually fostered dozens of children from all kinds of situations over the years. The only kids the press ever actually found out about were the ones he legally gained custody of, in one way or another, due to stringent privacy policies set in place back when he'd applied to be a foster parent for Dick.

Sometimes Bruce is able to keep in contact with his former foster kids, and he's always happy when that's the case, but other times he loses complete contact with them and can't legally track them down again. It's those children, outside of the ones he's legally able to claim as his own, that he worries about relentlessly. But even among those kids, there's two he worries about the most.

Jasmine Madeline Fenton and her younger brother Daniel Jackson Fenton had come into Bruce's life and home when Dick was thirteen. They weren't the first kids he'd fostered since adopting Dick, but they were the most impactful. Jazz was six, her hair was freshly cut and washed, her clothes neat and a bit on the baggy side, and her backpack still had a tag on it. Danny was three, he, too, had freshly cut and washed hair, his clothes were brand new, and his diaper bag was fully stocked.

Jazz was six and her clothes hung off her frame. She had bags under eyes and didn't know how to brush or wash her own hair. The backpack she had when she walked in his front doors was the very first new thing she'd ever seen that her parents hadn't immediately cannibalized for their experiments.

Danny was three and hadn't been given a real bath in almost a year. His clothes were all either too small or his sister's hand-me-downs. His diaper hadn't been changed in over six hours.

Bruce had been so sure he was going to be awarded permanent custody of the two. There had obviously been criminal neglect going on in that household at least, it should have been child's play to gain permanent custody of them. His lawyer and the children's case manager had assured them their case was practically airtight.

The kids had only been in his custody for two weeks before the state awarded full parental rights to the Drs Fenton. Jazz had only barely started getting used to eating three times a day again. Danny had just started smiling whenever Dick played peekaboo with him. And the courts sent. Them. Back. A month later and the Fenton's moved without a word, leaving behind not a single trace. It was almost as though they'd vanished.

Dick had been devastated. Alfred was crushed. And Bruce? Bruce experienced the five stages of grief for the second time in his life twice over. For years, he had private investigators searching everywhere he could think of for the siblings, desperately hoping to find even the slimmest glimmer of hope that they were alright, that they were still alive.

Jason coming into the household lessened some of that pain and desperation, especially after Bruce obtained full custody of him, but the tension between Dick and Jason drove the lingering tension between Dick and Bruce to critical levels. Argument after argument, fight after fight, all about the same topic: Why did Jason get adopted when Jazz and Danny were still out here?

Eventually the tension exploded in one of the worst ways possible, and the family was reduced back down to three. The first six months after Jason's funeral, Bruce refused to take on any new children. He even asked the private investigators to only contact him if they definitively found proof of the kids. The pain, the grief, the guilt was just too much for him. He'd failed Jazz and Danny, and he'd failed Jason, too. He couldn't handle failing yet another child.

Then Tim showed up, too tiny and too determined to get his way. The shock of seeing the obvious evidence of yet more criminal neglect from his own neighbors drew Bruce out of his downward spiral just enough to realize he needed help. Tim was right, he had been killing himself with his work, and doing so was the exact opposite of what Jazz, Danny, or Jason would have wanted from him. He notified CPS of a possible situation he was keeping an eye on, as well as the fact that he was pulling himself back together so he'd be able to reapply to be a foster parent, and then sought the help of a therapist sworn to absolute secrecy with the help of multiple NDAs.

A year later, he was reinstated as a foster parent, awarded first temporary, then later full, custody of Tim. He fostered a pair of blonde little girls for a few nights before an aunt was found in Vineland, New Jersey, who got custody instead. About a month after them, he fostered a ten year old boy for a week before his dad regained custody. He even fostered Tim's friend, Stephanie Brown, for two months while her mom went through rehab.

And then Red Hood came to town.

Between trying to track down and figure out who Red Hood was, Bruce also took on twin eight year old boys for about five days, a fifteen year old girl for two and a half weeks, a pair of cousins for ten days, and three siblings for a night. When Red Hood was finally revealed to be a revived Jason, angry at the thought that Bruce had replaced him and missing a few key memories, it had been two years since the last time he'd heard from the private investigators he'd hired eleven years prior. After weeks of careful negotiation and peace talks between Bruce and Jason, the family of four was well on their way to being the family of five they legally were, when Bruce decided it was time to get back in contact with the team he'd left in charge of the investigation looking for the Fentons. They only had a potential sighting of the Fentons at a class reunion in Wisconsin a few months prior, but any sighting was better than what they'd had for most of the eleven years prior, so Bruce asked them to double down and see what came from it.

Two weeks later, there was a knock on the manor door. It was the middle of a torrential downpour, one of the worst thunderstorms Gotham had seen in years, yet there was undeniably someone knocking at the door. Bruce, who'd been passing through the entry hall on a late evening stroll through the manor, was the one to answer the door.

She was in her late teens, her hair was long, wet, and stuck to the side of her face, her clothes in poor repair with splotches of dark red and neon green on them, and her backpack was worn and frayed. He was in his early teens, he, too, had long, wet hair that stuck to his face, his clothes were rags and barely hanging onto him with more of those dark red and neon green splotches, and his duffle bag was stuffed to the gills.

"Mr Wayne?" Jasmine Madeline Fenton asked, voice quivering as the two of them huddled on his doorstep, Daniel Jackson Fenton's eyes drooping to half mast from exhaustion. "We need your help. Our parents are trying to murder us."

============<×^-^×>============

I'm not gonna lie, it took me forever to figure out what I wanted to write today, but once I decided on this, it just wrote itself (⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠メ⁠) I actually got the idea for this fic from a prompt @evandarya had posted in the Batpham server a while back, which I absolutely loved and just had to write, so this ficlet is dedicated to them (not that they're aware of it yet lol)

Once again, I have no idea if I'll ever continue this ficlet, for my muse is fickle and likes to play favorites ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠⊙⁠_⁠ʖ⁠⊙⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ I might get lucky and get sudden inspiration for a sequel for this, or I might not, who knows? Honestly, if anyone wants to add onto this, go right ahead lol that'd be amazing.

[growthhyp]

Any chance you could turn me into the biggest, hairiest, and dumbest bodybuilder the world has ever seen? I want to be bigger than anyone else and so dumb that I can barely function other than to just keep getting bigger.

The Dumb Bro

Can you believe this, bro? So, like, I've got these bad boy nanobots in me, right? They changed the whole game years ago. And now, guess what? They're like, totally in you too! "Hulk smash, time to grow!" I telepathically told you, and boom! Your chest is like, inflating like a hot air balloon, bro.

You're feeling that tingle in your chest, right? That's them little guys getting to work! Then, bam, your chest is popping out like it's made of pure muscle and testosterone. It's like someone's pumping it up with a bike pump on steroids. And your arms, oh man, your arms! They're blowing up like you've been hitting the gym every day since you were in diapers.

First, it's your biceps, peaking out like a couple of Mount Everests with veins that could give a roadmap a run for its money. Then your tris are like, "Hey, we're not gonna be left out!" So, they start bulging and shaping up too. Your forearms are now like, super-charged with muscle and veins are just, like, everywhere. It's like you're turning into the Incredible Hulk's cousin or something!

You can't help but let out a manly groan as this happens, and the urge to flex, bro, it's just too much to resist. You throw those guns up and watch 'em bounce back like yo-yos made of pure steel.

As your guns popped into a sick double bicep pose, you couldn't help but flash that victory grin, bro. And just like that, your back started to blow up like a balloon, filling out like it had a life of its own. Your traps were spreading wider than ever, giving you that sweet, sweet wing-like look that makes the babes go crazy for that V-taper. And your neck, oh man, it started tingling and swelling up like you had a personal trainer for your neck muscles! You couldn't help but let out a low, guttural moan as you felt the blood rushing to your newfound gains, making your noggin feel like it was floating on a cloud of pure muscle euphoria. Your expression? Pure, dumb jock bliss. It was like your brain had gone on vacation and all you could focus on was the iron pumping, the protein shakes, and the sweet, sweet growth of those bad boys.

You stomach? It's gone, man! Flattened out like a pancake on a hot griddle, and in its place is a set of 6-pack abs that are popping like nobody's business! Your obliques? Forget about it, they're strutting their stuff like they own the place. And those quads? Oh boy, they're pumped up like they're on steroids, turning into tree trunks with veins popping all over, like you've just crushed the last set of squats in the gym. Then it's on to the calves, baby, getting swole like they're made of pure rock, and your feet? They're like two blocks of cement now.

But here's the kicker, bro: I checked out your noggin and it's all muscle up in there too. I mean, your brain power's been swapped for biceps and all that good stuff, but no worries, you're still a smart cookie. You're keeping all that juicy info on workouts and nutrition, like you've got a PhD in gains. It's all part of the deal, my friend. You're looking like a walking, talking, flexing encyclopedia of gym wisdom. Ain't it sweet?

As your noggin' went kaput, all you cared about was pumpin' iron and bulkin' up, bro. You were like, "Yeah, man, I wanna be a freakin' beast!" So I whipped out the ol' nano-magic and cranked those babies up to eleven! You're now so jacked, it's like someone photoshopped you into a superhero movie, right? But, y'know, the trade-off was that brainiac department of yours took a dive. Now you're talkin' in caveman grunts like, "Grow muscles, big, big!" and that's about the extent of your vocab. But hey, you got the physique of a Greek god, so who needs smarts, right? Last I saw ya, you were in the gym, flexin' those behemoth biceps and drooling like a champ. Classic gym moment, dude.

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Promptnation, which is turning out to be like NaNo but with way less stress]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) 10: choice (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

Their lives have never been predictable. Which, in some ways, has made them very predictable, John thinks as he stops Sherlock in the hallway with a hand on the sleeve of his dressing gown. 'Hey,' he says, voice quiet. 'Come here.'

Sherlock raises an eyebrow, but doesn't hesitate to lean down and let John kiss him, thoroughly. Maybe even twice.

'Great, thanks,' John says roughly afterwards, backing away. 'I've got work now.'

He really should have known, from the start, that they'd have to steal moments for this out of the chaos they live in.

'Not your babysitter,' Mrs Hudson sings the next day as she holds Rosie's hands down the stairs. 'But I've got applesauce jelly with her name on it. And I'll change her nappy while I'm at it, won't I?' The last is said to Rosie, obviously, who is very focused on the stairs.

John, in turn, is focused somewhere else as well. 'We've got ten minutes,' he says, already out of his chair. 

'Eight and a half,' Sherlock corrects, pulling John to him and capturing his mouth easily. John is tempted, so tempted, to let it go too far, but his prefrontal cortex is fully developed now, unlike the last time he felt this sort of heady gut-lust.

Maybe it's because Sherlock is a man, but he hasn't experienced a sense of newness this acute since being in school. And he'd thought, because he knows Sherlock in every other way it is possible to know a person, that this added dimension would feel--normal. Comfortingly similar. Would slot into their lives unnoticeably.

Decidedly not, John accepts some days and a solved case later, just before his backside hits the kitchen table. They've got a few more stolen moments while Rosie's napping on the sofa, and he's determined to make the most of them.

At Sherlock's urging, he lifts himself up onto the table's cluttered surface, then grabs at Sherlock's face to bring him back into the kiss. He spreads his knees without a thought and feels enveloped by heat as Sherlock moves further in between them. He fits around Sherlock perfectly, and it feels like--

It feels like lacing his fingers together with the other thumb in front, or crossing his arms with the other hand dominant. It feels like his own body still, yes, his skin heating up and his lungs pressing for air, but from a literal whole new perspective.

And he wants more of it. 'Do you think,' he murmurs in between kisses, 'that you'd want to be the one--' He pauses as Sherlock bites at his jaw. 'The one in charge?'

Sherlock pulls back enough to give him a look. 'Are you struggling through your English modesty to ask me if I'd like to top?'

John's neck flushes further, and he's pretty sure now it's both from arousal and embarrassment. Which is also new; he's said plenty more graphic things to women without hesitation, but apparently all bets are off when it comes to Sherlock. 'Yeah,' he says firmly. 'Yes.'

'I'd assumed you'd want to be the one doing that.'

'Wait, though-- you've done this before…?'

Sherlock's mouth quirks up. 'Subtle as always, John. Yes, I have. But not with you, do you understand? I want whatever you want. Quite literally.'

John swallows. 'And vice versa. I'm not new-- I mean, to the whole idea--'

'I'm very aware,' Sherlock retorts. And of course he is, aware of both John's various partners over the years and also of his, well, solo habits.

'Alright,' John says dryly. 'Rein it in, detective.' He sobers, hoping he doesn't have to go into detail. 'But this feels… different. And I want you to--to show me everything, to do everything you want.'

Sherlock, as he should have expected, takes this as a sort of delightful challenge. 'Well, then, we are at a bit of a stalemate, aren't we?'

John smirks, relief seeping through. 'Flip a coin?' he says, tightening his thighs, ready to dip back into Sherlock's mouth.

But Rosie, naturally, chooses that moment to wake up, and to do so loudly. She's almost got Sherlock's name down, and she definitely can yell for John like she's getting paid for it.

John groans and leans his forehead against Sherlock's momentarily, or at least intending for it to be momentary but shortly hearing the sound of his daughter shuffling into the kitchen, dragging her favourite garishly plaid blanket behind her. 

'Perhaps we'll cut a deck of cards?' Sherlock suggests to him as they untangle.

Then the detective reaches down for Rosie, who is looking back and forth between them. 'Cards?' she repeats once she's in his arms, her tiny person pronunciation still simultaneously hilarious and brilliant. 

'Yes,' Sherlock answers matter-of-factly. 'Your father and I are trying to decide…' He looks at John, a glint in his eye John shouldn't like at all. '...who gets to have the first ginger nut.'

John chokes on his tea, the sting going into his nostrils. 'Unfair,' he says.

His daughter seems interested, which is not surprising considering she shares Sherlock's predilection for the biscuit. 'Ginger nut!' she says. 'Me too?'

'Of course,' Sherlock says amenably. 'It's time for tea, anyhow.'

John tamps down a smile, then goes in for the assist, relieving Sherlock of Rosie so the detective can rummage around in the fridge. In their current arrangement, Sherlock is in charge of keeping edible and non-edible items separated. It's a dealbreaker, John had said when they'd moved back in. And Sherlock had complied without too much fuss, much to John's continued surprise.

Though, to be honest, he half expects Rosie would be delighted to find fingers in the crisper.

When everything's on the table and Rosie's in her booster seat, John digs in his pocket and pulls out a 50p coin, flipping it over to Sherlock without warning.

Sherlock catches it, regards it, then raises an eyebrow. 'I can rig this, you know.' 

'Yes, but you won't, because my daughter is impressionable and worships you. And while you have many fine attributes, casual cheating is not one I'm interested in her inheriting.' 

'Or, erm,' Sherlock starts, fingers casually playing with the coin. 'Any.' It's not a question, but suddenly he's looking intently at John, forehead wrinkled.

John's heart squeezes as he clocks what Sherlock's actually trying to get at. 'Sherlock. Bloody hell. Of course.' He inhales harshly. 'I know I'm not-- not exactly trustworthy any more, in that arena.'

But Sherlock cuts off his self-flagellation. 'Poppycock.'

'Beg pardon?'

Sherlock shakes his head. 'You were seduced by a person who could talk someone into murder with the snap of her fingers. She is literally the most brilliant manipulator in the world, and though I hold you in high regard you in no way had the capacity to overcome that.'

The anxiety slowly eases, though he suspects he'll never fully be free of it. 'You're admitting you're not the cleverest?'

He thinks Sherlock will counter in good humour, but instead he's a bit thoughtful. 'I think that, at that level, one is somewhere in the stratosphere, separated from everyone below. I find I rather like it down here.' He smiles crookedly, genuinely, at John. 'In certain company, at least.' 

John's heart twinges. 'Well. That's.' He clears his throat. 'That's good. We rather like you down here. Most of the time.'

He breaks eye contact, instead looking at Rosie, who is happily getting banana all over her hands. He hopes the words will be sufficient. 'But I mean it.'

Sherlock's voice is quiet, fond and no-nonsense at the same time. 'I know. I know you, John Watson.'

John feels a smile slowly cross his face. 'Yeah, that's right, you'd catch me out instantly anyway. How I ended up with the one person I literally will not ever be able to keep a secret from, I've no idea. Birthdays and anniversaries are going to be very, very boring.'

Sherlock's smirk gives no doubt as to where his mind has immediately gone. 'Oh, I doubt that.'

John can tell his skin is starting to flush again. 'Speaking of… Coin flip is right out, so…?'

'Paper scissors stone?' 

'No!'

'Why not?'

'Because you'd definitely cheat at that.'

'True. Magic 8 Ball?'

'You know what a Magic 8 Ball is?'

'Had a case where it was the murder weapon.'

'What? Really?'

'Yes.' Sherlock leans in, clearly ready to share the tale while assisting Rosie with her cheerios. 

And John wants to remember this, this exact feeling of this exact moment, forever.

[❤️]

[c005]

I just bought an iPod nano 6 and I’m and so excited for it to come! It’s all I can think about. Im too impatient to wait the three days for it to ship!! Peter is me rn 😆😬

[simonnebethel]

Writeblr Introduction

Just learned what a writeblr intro is so I'm gonna make one before I go to bed lol

I've already done something like this a few days ago but that was when I had no clue what I was doing lmao, so might as well make a more in depth one

About me:

20, she/her, bi

American

I write mostly fantasy and urban fantasy, and honestly i dont think i've ever written a story that was non-fantasy lol

Started writing when I was 10, but it was mostly Warrior Cats fanfiction on Wattpad lol. I went through a writing slump for most of highschool but last year I decided to get back into it since I'm not doing anything else lol

I like to read fantasy and classic lit, also anything with vampires. I also have a soft spot for slowburn romances where the main characters dont kiss until, like, the 4th book heehee

In love with anything gothic, vampire, and wlw 👩‍❤‍💋‍👩

I think one of my more niche interests is any early 2000s fantasy/sci-fi movie with a nu-metal/rock/alternative soundtrack like Queen of the Damned and The Crow. They are just...*chefs kiss*

My current stories:

A Chant for Blood (Formerly known as Account of Calamity)

Account of Calamity is a gothic victorian fantasy about a Grand Marshal, Karliah Helisende, and a blood-drinking fiend, Yorick Gwynplaine, who work together to investigate the mysterious portals that spawn dangerous creatures into the city of Isarnan, all the while Karliah is being haunted by the mysterious ancient temple that watches over her every move.

I'm currently working on the second draft, and I may start looking for beta readers once I'm finished, although I know I'm not far from finished with this novel. I also plan to make it a 4 or 5 book series, and slowly add a slowburn romance.

12/30/24 - Second draft has been finished!!

Looking for beta readers! Look here!

Our Demonic Hearts - The Craven Pact Series #1

Our Demonic Hearts is a urban fantasy about a cambion woman, Ana Kravens, haunted by her past. Taking place in a small Mississippi town, a man she went through a traumatic incident with, Beau Motloe, shows up on her doorstep one day with a deal; help him find his missing mother, and he'll give back the memories she lost during the traumatic incident. Her father, a demonic creature of unknown origin, wants nothing more than the Motloes dead, claiming that they were the very reason his daughter was almost killed 6 years ago. Ana goes against her father's wishes and accepts Beau's deal, suspecting that her father isn't telling the whole truth about that fatal night.

It is completed and available on Wattpad and Royal Road!! It was just a small project I had done for Nanowrimo, and has been edited at least once before being published. However, I plan to make it a trilogy and maybe have some spin-offs. This story is fairly new, but most of the characters are at least 5 years old and I love them very much <3

My Plans for 2025:

Finish my fantasy romance novel, To Hear a Lovebird by February 28(currently sitting at 48k out of an estimated 60k!)...and give it a new name 😅

Start the first draft of The Craven Pact #2, which is called Our Sacred Memories!

Down the road, I may start another short story...I am not sure.

Create a Instagram account for writing...I'm not sure. We will see.

Begin the next editing phase for my Victorian fantasy novel, A Chant for Blood! I am itching to get back to working on it. I have many plans for it.

What I planned for 2024:

Finish the second draft of A Chant for Blood and look for beta readers(In the beta reader phase!) ✅

Start the second novel of The Craven Pact Series(Outline complete)

Write a short story/novella or two taking place within the A Chant for Blood universe. My brain is currently exploding with ideas rn ✅

Write a short story about Ana Kraven's mom and how she met Marchosias, Ana's father. ❌

Plan something for Nano?? Idk where I'll be in November lol (Finish a project I started in february, which is To Hear a Lovebird!)(14/22 chapters done!)

I'm interested in following other writers and reading everybody's stories! I would also be interested in a beta read/beta swap ^^

Other sites I'm on:

Wattpad: LillithOfBees

Royal Road: SimonneBethel

Bluesky: Simonne-Bethel

18+ Writing discord!!!

[insuspensa]

A horrible, uncomfortable little laugh bubbles in his chest as this chunk of his magnetic tape heart pulls away from the rest, as his wet eyes search Jon's eyes and eyes and eyes, their two figures framed by those still, silent wings. Of course it was always going to lead to this. Perhaps there won't be anything left of him, by the time Jon is finished. Perhaps Jon already started devouring him the moment they first crossed paths all those years ago. He holds out the piece in his bloody palm, nothing more than a dark tangle still attached by a few strands, and takes a slow, shaky breath. "Take it."

JonElias Week 2023, Day 6: Dreams and Nightmares. This is an excerpt from a scene @paradisepuppet and I wrote during NaNo last year.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

⏲️ The Timing of a Time Lord

So I was wondering, GIL has been going for about a year and a half now, but how long is that in Gallifreyan time?

1 Gallifreyan Second = 1 Earth Second

1 Gallifreyan Minute = 1 Earth Minute

1 Gallifreyan Hour ≈ 80 Earth Minutes

1 Gallifreyan Day = 1 Earth Day

1 Gallifreyan Month = 27 Earth Days

1 Suncycle (Year) = 1 Earth Year

1 Nano-span = 0.19 Earth Seconds

1 Micro-span = 189 Earth Seconds

1 Milli-span = 52.6 Earth Hours

1 Centi-span = 22 Earth Days

1 Span = 6 Earth Years

1 Cycle ≈ 23 Earth Years

1 Kilo-span = 6000 Earth Years

1 Epoch = Tens of Millions of Earth Years

So that's one-and-a-half suncycles. Phew. Now I can sleep.

(Varied, ROOG)

Whoniverse Facts for Friday by GIL

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴