#procrastinating writing

[itsawritblr]

[arloconroy]

EL MISMO SOL - SoundCloud

Listen to EL MISMO SOL by alessandroneri on #SoundCloud

This song is a bop and is distracting me from writing very well.

*does a silly lil dance whilst holding ice cold coffee and ignoring the book series I spontaneously decided to write*

[love-from-anie]

[writtenbyevie]

do you ever not write for so long that you’re almost afraid to? like what if I’m dumb now

[ckret2]

in the wake of TBOB's "why don't you get breakup bangs and get over my grunkle" letter, I feel like any post-canon billford reconciliation is less likely to involve Mabel's matchmaking services, and more likely to go,

and honestly? that's funnier.

stan finds out about the situation and drags bill aside to give him the shovel talk, and discovers his 13-year-old great niece beat him to the punch by a month AND scared bill twice as much as stan does.

[paintedcrows]

Ford's gotta stop being so relatable

[scealaiscoite]

setting prompts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🕊️ ꒱

¹⁾ a rural gas station in the middle of the night

²⁾ the last room at a drive-in motel in the small hours of the morning

³⁾ a cold, draughty church on a thursday night

⁴⁾ a stranger’s bedroom at noon

⁵⁾ a window seat on a red-eye flight during a storm

⁶⁾ a hospital waiting room with only one other person in it

⁷⁾ a sleeper train eight hours from its destination

⁸⁾ the first night in a new house, alone

⁹⁾ the steps of a wedding chapel in the rain

¹⁰⁾ a dingy truck stop after ten hours on the road

¹¹⁾ a divorce attorney’s office on valentine’s day

¹²⁾ the beach at ten on a monday morning

¹³⁾ a police station in a foreign country

¹⁴⁾ a coffee shop at two in the morning

¹⁵⁾ a concert venue, hours after the band’s set has finished

¹⁶⁾ a boat miles from land in any direction

¹⁷⁾ the third highest floor in a skyscraper

¹⁸⁾ the end of the line at a b-list movie star’s meet-and-greet

¹⁹⁾ a bar an hour after last call

²⁰⁾ an overgrown garden in a heatwave

²¹⁾ a car park lit only by streetlamps

²²⁾ a film set two days from the end of production

²³⁾ a graveyard in spring

²⁴⁾ the lap of someone who’s been gone for too long

²⁵⁾ a kitchen counter whilst dinner’s being made

[stervrucht]

Trapped🖤

[melomarts]

Good evening fallout nation

[seawaveleo]

enjoying season 10 immensely

[milkovichrules]

true love

[risustravelogue]

Welcome, Little One

◐ summary ◑

It's the birth of your and his child.

◐ featuring ◑

Husband!Wriothesley, Husband!Alhaitham (separate), fem!reader

◐ tags & warnings ◑

Childbirth (DUH), fluffy fluff. A bit(?) self-indulgent. Wriothesley has a baby boy, while Alhaitham has a baby girl.

◐ a/n ◑

I think I'm having a baby fever.

🔗 AO3 | masterlist 🔗

If staring daggers into a blabbering businessman is counted as work, then the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide is currently busy.

Very busy.

To be fair, he has been waiting on news from the hospital regarding the birth of his child—your child.

You have been waiting for this little miracle for years now—it took you no small amount of convincing your husband to even start trying. And after he agreed to try, it took another one and a half years before you successfully got pregnant.

And now, the life both of you created together is about to arrive.

Alas, work called him while the two of you were waiting for the baby’s birth. The Iudex, with a heavy heart, had to take Wriothesley away from your side. Apparently, a businessman heard that the Duke is on the surface and demanded to meet in person today, else he’d cut off supplies to the Fortress.

So here the Duke is, having to listen to the man bragging about how he’s inheriting his father’s business and such. Wriothesley taps his feet onto the marble floor and clicks his tongue.

“Get to the point,” he growls. “I have little patience for your games. What do you want?”

The businessman replies with a sly grin. “Why, I only want to continue the arrangement between my business and yours!” he puffs. “I’ve heard that you are an adept businessman yourself, Your Grace. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be able to get so many Clockwork Mekas produced in a year. You must have—”

“Get. To. The point.”

“What I mean is—”

The door of the Iudex’s office suddenly swings open. Sedene comes in, shouting Wriothesley’s title while running.

“Calm down, Sedene,” Neuvillette shushes. “What is it?”

The Melusine turns to Wriothesley, gesturing with excitement.

”I got a call, Your Grace. Your wife—”

That’s all Wriothesley needs to hear. He stands up and runs out of the office, of the Palais Mermonia, all the way to the hospital downtown.

He arrives as you are ushered out in a wheelchair by a nurse, cradling a small, cloth-wrapped thing in your arms. His eyes widen when he realizes that you are holding a baby.

Your baby.

He whispers, then calls out your name. You lift your eyes, gaze meeting icy blue, and smile.

“Look, there’s Daddy,” you whisper to your newborn. Wriothesley slowly steps until he’s in front of you, and kneels on the floor to embrace his family.

“You have a baby boy,” you say to your husband, your smile widening. “Say hi.”

“Hi,” he coos. “Hi, baby. Daddy’s here.”

Wriothesley glances up to meet your gaze, and you can see tears welling up in his eyes. He leans in to give your lips a sweet kiss.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be by your side while you delivered,” he apologizes.

“Mm. No need for that, you know. All’s well,” you hum. He closes the distance between your lips again.

“I know. Thank you.”

Your husband gives his baby boy a kiss on the forehead. The baby yawns and coos, and a smile blooms on the Duke’s lips.

“I love you,” he says. “Both of you.”

It’s highly unusual to see the Acting Grand Sage pace around.

He’s usually sitting cross-legged, face buried in a book that has caught his attention, or behind his desk, lazily scribbling on official documents needing approval or review. Sure, he runs for morning exercise, but anxiously pacing around is definitely not his style.

Who can fault him, though? He’s waiting for his child to be born, after all.

Luckily, the two of you were able to rent your own room in the Bimarstan to wait for the baby’s arrival, so he doesn’t bother the other patients. You watch your husband pacing from beside your bed to the entrance of the room, pausing a second in front of the door as if he wants to leave, but he always comes back to your side to shoot a glare at your very pregnant belly—only to sigh and repeat the motions again.

“How are you feeling?” Alhaitham asks, finally.

“Still fine, love,” you say, holding back a chuckle. “I’m sure I’ll know when it starts.”

He frowns and huffs. His arms are folded in front of his chest, and he shifts his weight on his feet.

“I’m not ready,” he admits.

You smile, gesturing for him to take your hand. He obliges, intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing tight. You pull him closer and give the back of his hand a peck.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” you say. “I believe in you.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, but—”

Before he finishes speaking, you feel something flowing and your sheets getting wet.

“Uh, Haitham?”

“Yes?”

“I think my water just broke.”

—

Your screams reverberate in the delivery room. One of Alhaitham’s hands squeezes yours, while the other rests on your sweaty forehead. His expression is one of horror—he’s never heard you scream this loud. He’s read that childbirth is very painful for the mother, but seeing you undergo the experience is a truly harrowing thing.

“You can do this. I’m here,” he whispers, thumb caressing the back of your hand. “I’m here.”

You squeeze his hand and push with a pained groan. A baby’s cry echoes through the air.

“It’s a girl!” the doctor exclaims. “Congratulations!”

The nurses collectively sigh in relief. The doctor wipes down the baby and wraps her in a soft cloth, then puts her in your arms. You can feel your husband squeezing your hand even tighter as he looks down at his baby with a soft gaze.

“Oh,” he sighs. “I’m… a father now.”

The little girl opens her green eyes, and although she cannot see her parents yet, she smiles.

Alhaitham feels tears roll down his cheeks.

“She’s beautiful,” he breathes. He braves himself to caress his newborn daughter’s cheek.

She’s so soft.

A smile grows on your husband’s lips as he leans down to kiss the baby’s forehead.

“Hi, little one,” he whispers. “Welcome to the world.”

© @risustravelogue 2024 • FEEDING THIS WORK TO GENERATIVE AIs IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. • do not repost. • reblogs are precious. • feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. 💖

[adharagranley-writer]

i'm seeing these posts so i'm gonna do it just for fun (knowing i'll get five notes at most), but writer's version:

100 notes and i'll try to post regularly on instagram.

200 notes and i'll make a routine to write daily.

300 notes and i'll start to exercise, drink more water, eat fruit and study more.

500 notes and i'll FINISH WIPS (works in progress).

1k notes and i'll EDIT MY BOOK.

2k notes and i'll propose marriage to my best friend.

5k notes and i'll go to mexico to see a boy (please don't) (i'll never get 5k (i hope)).

EDIT: Y'ALL ARE CRAZYY. crying bc now i'll have to do the stuff but i love you all.

[littlecrittereli]

I am not who I was

Alt Version:

It's been a while since I drew Chris prior to Decoded... Also this rendering is ass, I am not good at shaDING ASJDAKDS

[applestorms]

hey. hi. hello. um? hey?

we, as a fandom, simply do not talk about this moment often enough.

[greenconverses]

would it really kill you (if we kissed) [15/15]

rating: explicit

pairing: percy/annabeth, with previous luke/annabeth

summary: It wasn’t like Annabeth hadn’t been warned about him. In New Rome, there was just one unofficial rule to surviving and thriving for demigods and mortals alike. Avoid the son of Neptune. At all costs.

support: ko-fi

As it turned out, Fate had left one more surprise for him. It had been there all along – a small string of destiny, practically invisible in the grand scheme of things, but strong and true in its purpose. Most of all, it was patient. Quietly waiting for the right moment to pull tight and make itself known, to change the direction of Percy’s life for the better. Sometimes, Fate defied a demigod’s expectations. Even those named Percy Jackson.

read it here

don't mind me, just sliding in with the (last!!!!!) annual update with nine hours to spare