#no over 40 wips because i'm too lazy to look up the titles of a few more

[koolkat9]

WIP Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @astrophilic-soul 

Rules: Reveal the titles of the documents in your WIP folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

One Problem. I don’t have a document per fic unless it’s a multichapter fic, more like I do 6 or so one-shots in one doc. And I don’t usually choose a title until I wrote everything out. But we can still do this. It’s just not going to be an actual title more like a few words that summarize the oneshot. Sit tight, we’ll be here awhile since I think I’m going to include outlines to try and motivate myself lol.  

CURRENTLY BEING WRITTEN OUT

Arthur Meeting Lud’s Dogs - Obviously GerEng 

Count Your Blessings (Chapter 3) - England + Canada 

GerFruk Arthur Sick fic - GerFruk

Got a Secret Can You Keep it? - GerEng (nsfw)

Day 6 - Folklore || Pining - FACE Fam + Fruk (this was originally going to be something for Fruk week but I couldn’t get myself to finish it in time since it is very long, but I do plan on returning to it)

Cardverse Fic - GerEng is the main focus, but there will also be Itapan, probably some platonic Al and Art, platonic Arthur and Yao, Scotfra, and so much more. Don’t know when it will be posted since I want to finish one of my other multichapter fics before jumping onto another. 

German Bros - Germany + Prussia (originally planned as a Father’s Day fic but I ran out of time. Probably won’t get posted until Father’s Day 2024)

Untitled - EngUkr (I think this was supposed to be a birthday fic, but then I ran out of time and just haven’t finished it yet)

GerEng Hurt/Comfort Hospital - GerEng, England + America 

Pruk Spice - Pruk (nsfw)

 Subspace - GerEng (nsfw)

Top England x Bottom BFT - BFT x England (nsfw. Based on a prompt on the hetalia kink meme)

ONLY OUTLINE (Break because this is where it gets long)

FACE Fam Sick Fic - FACE Fam + Fruk

Omega Ludwig being taken care of at a meeting (inspired by a convo on my spicy blog)

Ludwig’s Birth + Gil’s Anxiety - little Germany + Prussia (and Germania, though it’s more like he’s there in spirit with him possibly actually being present)

Francis Caring for Matt’s Hair - France + Canada

GerEng + Peter Sick fic - Obviously GerEng + Peter

Fruk Death Fic - Fruk (I promise it’s only temporary Character Death)

Arthur and Kiku taking Matt to a convention - England + Japan + Canada

FACE Fam Matt is Injured in Hockey - FACE Fam + Fruk

CuCan Beach Prompt - CuCan

CuCan Winter Prompt - CuCan

GerEng laying in Bed all day because Arthur is depressed and mentally drained - GerEng + an appearance by Ludwig’s dogs possibly

Canmano First Meeting - Canmano + a little bit of Ameliet

Art + Matt WW1

Arthur Getting Merlin - England + the kitten I gave him named Merlin

GerEng exercise Buddies - GerEng

Fruk Kiss Prompt - Fruk

Royal Red Bros Storm - England + little Canada

Matt Comforting Arthur after a Nightmare - England + little Canada

Lud Picking up Arthur after he fell asleep in a weird position - GerEng

Ludwig Cleaning Arthur’s Wounds After a Bar Fight

NyoCanUkr smut - Nyo Canada x Ukraine (nsfw)

Pet Play GerEng - GerEng

EngUkr Spice - EngUkr

CanCu Omegaverse - CuCan (nsfw. Based on prompt from Hetalia Kink Meme)

GerEng Thunder Storm - GerEng + Aster (Lud’s dog)

Matthew + Fran and Fran’s Fear of Planes - France + Canada

GerEng Late Night - GerEng

(there may be a few more, but I’m too lazy to check)

No way I’m tagging this many people

@aster-riskite @kitaychan @fireandiceland @fandomfollowerart @paperuniverse and anyone else I forgot to tag or who wants to join (no pressure)

[usmsgutterson]

The Collector - S.R x Hotchner! Reader

Oooookay!! I've developed a little bit of a pattern of having m u l t i p l e spencer reid fics out with only a few days between and I feel like my current wip is going in a direction I don't really like, so this is just a cute little fic because I feel the urge to publish something instead of watching more criminal minds or editing my current wip to fix it's course.

I've had a l o t of thoughts about spencer with hotchner! reader who's also an author and bibliophile, and while yeah, that's the premise for my current WIP, it's also a point in this one (they'll be two different depictions in two different settings) because I just can't stop thinking about it. The concept has me wholly entranced.

The fic title is riffed from the song The Collector by Searows because I listened to that while writing this one and I am simply too lazy to come up with something else.

Fic type - fluff with some hurt/comforty undertones

Warnings - there are mentions of a difficult case (not specified), there are mentions of sharks (hammerheads are blabbed about a la reidsplaining, and thresher sharks are mentioned), and this one is not edited beyond bare bones because I whipped it up in an hour and a half and wanted to get it out as soon as possible.

When Spencer gets home, the part of him that actively seeks you out is a little anxious not to find you in the living room, lounging on the couch while drinking tea and reading a book like you usually are when he gets home after a case, but it takes him a second before he remembers why the routine has changed.

You, a very accomplished author and person both, are writing again. Your agreement with the publishing house that's been with you since you were seventeen states that you have to have one book out every year, and while sometimes your books don't require a lot of research, a fair bit of the time they require at least or two of it before the drafting process begins.

And, Spencer remembers, you like to write in what he knows to be your domain--since you'd moved into a house that was almost too big for just the two of you, you've had a little home library. It's floor to ceiling with shelves, and the ceilings are pretty freakin' high out, taller than Spencer is by around four feet. You need a ladder to get to some of the stuff you read, and the walls are lined with more than 1,000 books that both you and Spencer had read in varying languages.

He sets his messenger bag down at a chair in the dining room table and pretty much makes a beeline for you from there--it's been a tough case. He's spent the last two weeks in Nevada and while he did get the chance to see Ethan while he was there, the case itself took a toll on his mental health and he just wants to steal one minute of your time.

He opens the door quietly in an effort not to disturb you, but it hardly works. You turn around when the door croaks because the hinges are rusted to hell and neither you or Spencer has had the time to put some WD-40 on them to stop the squeaking.

When you see him, your face breaks out into a grin. "Hey, Spence," you greet. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him as you approach, and like you know exactly what he needs, you pull him into a tight hug.

"How'd you know?"

"Aaron texted," you answer. "While you guys were on the way back--said you looked a little worse for wear. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he answers. "Just--case took a lot out of me, and I really missed you."

You've developed, over the last ten years of the relationship, the sort of innate ability to read Spencer like he's an open book, and you know he doesn't really want to talk about it so you don't push him.

"I'm right here," you respond, squeezing him just a little. You've missed him too, while he's been gone, but that feels like bullshit because you always miss him when he's away. Every single time, without fail, when you have to go to bed alone, you find yourself putting on one of his work shirts because it smells like him and spending the night all yearny because you miss him until you fall asleep.

When you pull away, your head tilts on instinct. "You okay?" You ask again. "What are you thinking? I can see the cogs turning in that handsome brain of yours, Spence."

"I'm sorry for interrupting," he says. "I know that you're working, Y/N, and--"

"You're not interrupting anything," you answer. "Aaron told me you'd be coming back today and I've been hopped up on caffeinated tea waiting for you to get home. I've been trying to do a bit of research with regards to the book I'm supposed to start next week, but I haven't been able to focus because you're the only thing I can think about."

Spencer smiles softly, and you turn your laptop off and then shut it before pulling him back in.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck before you can stop yourself, really--you've missed him like hell, and when you feel him do the same to you, you know that he's really been through hell since he was last in Virginia.

The two of you hug for a lot longer than either of you initially expect. You don't pull away until Spencer does, which must be fifteen minutes gone.

"We're staying in tonight," you murmur, e/c eyes meeting his brown ones. "Ordering pizza or pasta or--something good, and we're going to watch the shark documentary we saw on Netflix the day before you left."

"You've decided, have you?" Spencer asks, a teasing smile threatening to poke at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah," you nod. "And Penelope sent me her recipe for carrot muffins so I'm gonna make those to eat as a snack, and I've really missed your voice so I--just talk, Spence. Please."

You're grabbing him by the hand and leading him out to your kitchen as you speak, and when he starts rambling per your request, you're grabbing a mixing bowl and a spatula.

"Hammerhead sharks are a lot more interesting than they seem," Spencer begins. "Their scientific name is Syphrnidae, they keep to a carnivorous diet and they live 20-30 years on average while in the wild. They use their heads to help them hunt for their food, which is primarily stingrays as well as other kinds of rays, squids and crustaceans that live on the ocean floor. There are nine different species of hammerhead and with a length of an average 13-20 feet, the great hammerhead is one of the largest sharks in the world and it's the largest species of the nine in the Syphrnidae family."

As he talks, you get yourself busy with the baking, happy to let Spencer ramble until he runs out of breath because you've missed the sound of his voice. By the time the carrot muffins are in the oven, he's moved from hammerhead sharks to thrasher sharks and when you've closed it, he's stopped talking and is just--looking at you like you're the love of his life.

"What?" You ask, noticing his gaze.

Spencer shakes his head as though he means to clear his thoughts from it, shrugs, and says, "nothing."

You laugh. "I call bullshit," you say. "Just because my brother went on to be one of the profilin' types and I became an author doesn't mean I can't read you like an open book, Spence. What's going on in your head?"

He leans against the counter top, crosses his arms over his chest, and smiles.

"You fell in love with "one of the profilin' types", Y/N," he says. "And, yeah, you can read me like an open book. Never thought to be closed around you, and a decade gone, I am reaping the benefits."

"Yeah?" You ask, putting your dishes into the sink and giving them a rinse so that they're not mucky when they go into the dishwasher. "How so?"

"I'm home after two weeks on one of the roughest cases of my career," he says. "And I get to come home to you. That makes me feel lucky in and of itself."

"Yeah?" You repeat, turning to him with a grin as you wipe the water off of your hands and onto the nearest dry washcloth. "You're sure that the whole--the whole double PhD in Creative Writing and Psych, or the multiple pieces I've written that've been put into reputable news sources, or all of the books I've written since we met when I was nineteen and you were twenty--that has fuck all to do with it?"

He reaches out, his hands gracing your hips with a touch so delicate that it's almost intoxicating. "I fell in love with you for you, Y/N," he says. "Not your accomplishments, though boasting about you does have it's bonuses."

Your arms wrap around his shoulders. "I love you too, Spence."

"Because of my genius, or in spite of it?"

"Because of it, but it's not the only reason," you murmur. "I love you because of how kind you are, how courageous you are in the face of danger. I love you for your occasional sarcasm and the rambles that it seems nobody else in your office really enjoys. I love you because of earl grey tea on sunday mornings and forehead kisses when you're coming home from a case at three in the morning. I love you for who you are, not everything you've done."

When he finally kisses you, he tastes like earl grey tea and mint, and you love it--you love him so much that it just about consumes you whole, but you're happy to let it if it comes to that.

When Spencer pulls away, his brown eyes meeting yours just before your foreheads touch, he breathes in.

"It's good to be home," he whispers. "Amazing to be home, actually."

You laugh, kissing him quickly before turning your attention to the living room. You take him with you, the two of you waddle-walking because you don't want to separate after days spent only communicating through phone calls and facetimes.

When you finally plop onto the couch, you let yourself be held by him, and man, does it feel amazing.

[monsterkissed]

For the ask meme: 4, 14, 19, 30, 33, 36, 40. GREEDY, I KNOW

@mistytpednaem

4 was already covered, slightly shortening this monster answer to the relief of everyone.

14. Write and share the first sentence of a new fic. Just that.

Donatella Una thinks exactly three things, sitting in the doctor's office as he tells her very patiently that she is going to die.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

Something screeched overhead and rattled Doppio out of his contemplation. He jumped and turned as a shadow passed over him, low and dark. A falcon swooped up and perched itself on the gate he had just passed through, peering down at him with bright eyes. It wore a little hat and a scarf, which even in Doppio’s dubious memory of things seemed unusual.

“Hello,” he said, giving the bird a little wave.

The bird did not respond.

“I like your clothes. You gotta be somebody’s pet, huh? Are you lost?” The bird continued to regard him in silence and Doppio laughed. “I guess you’re not the talking kind of bird. Or maybe just not too good at answering questions.” He mused on its plumage, then nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure I read somewhere that parrots and ravens and stuff are a lot smarter than hawks.”

The bird did not answer, but Doppio became abruptly certain that it’s gaze had become distinctly colder. Birds do not usually have particularly expressive faces, but in this case the look it gave him was highly evocative. It might have said something like, “Once, things like you were only small, fluffy, frightened sorts of creatures, and things like me were cold-blooded dragons that swallowed you in multitudes, and those days are not so far off as you might think.” Doppio was quite sure that the air temperature had dropped a few degrees.

30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't.

Oh this is difficult. I don't usually have things in halfway stages? Either something is a vague idea I haven't thought much about, or it's something I have actually worked on a lot and fully intend to finish. Sometimes things get modified, though? I was going to write something about a certain awful pink individual's mother, but that's now mostly been devoured into a certain awful pink wip's bottomless maw. I did have a part 3 fic I was working one and got far enough to be doing edits on and then just kind of stopped, though honestly if I went back and looked over it I'd probably actually find it not too bad. I also have a persona 1 fic that is Way older that I had forgotten for so long that I legitimately assumed I must have posted it at some point and forgotten, that one might genuinely be lost media bc it's old enough that my writing has probably moved far beyond it.

33. Give your writing a compliment.

I read it for fun. There are some particular lines or dialogue scenes or jokes or turns of phrase that make me think "Damn I wish I could write like that" and that's a very weird feeling to have when you did in fact write like that.

36. How do you come up with fic titles? What's the one you're most proud of?

JJBA is very handy bc that answer is I scroll thru my music library until I find something that fits. But I am particularly fond of Being No One, Going Nowhere because it honestly works far better than that kind of lazy method could possibly deserve. And it's from a band rec'd to me by the partners, so it has sentimental value uwu

40. Write a 9-word fic.

On his deathbed Giorno tells her: "Start running, now."

Incredibly cruel to force me to be concise honestly. I'm just shocked I didn't do a joke.