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disabledwhumphurtcomfort · 6 months ago

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Disabled Whump & Hurt/Comfort 2025 Prompt List

These are the prompts for the 2025 Disabled Whump & Hurt/Comfort writing challenge, a 30-day challenge running from April 1-April 30, 2025.

Below the read more are the content and posting rules for this challenge.

Feel free to start writing your works before April, but please only post on and after April 1st.

The prompts are divided by themes, but can be mixed up or taken out of order or only a few at a time. See rules for more information

LIFE IS LIKE THAT Established disability

1. Hurt: Hitting a weak spot | “I knew this would happen” | Exacerbated injury

2. Comfort: Challenged expectations | Relapse recovery | Disabled comforter

The Long Haul

3. Hurt: Chronic pain | Forced endurance | “Aren’t you better yet?”

4. Comfort: Support network | Recognizing the signs | Reassurance

Acquired disability

5. Hurt: Accident | Deliberate injury | Medical aftermath

6. Comfort: Accommodation | Physical therapy | Learning curve

Recovery

7. Hurt: “I feel like I’m going backwards” | Exhausting recovery | Side effects

8. Comfort: Long-term treatment | “New normal” | Healing from trauma

Adaptation

9. Hurt: Destroyed assistive device | Painful healing | Go it alone

10. Comfort: “My own way of doing things” | Work-arounds | Assistive device

PAIN AND PERIL Environmental

11. Hurt: Extreme temperatures | Mobility restriction | Isolation

12. Comfort: Safe place | Survive together | Coming home

Sensory

13. Hurt: Flare-up | Relapse | Adverse reaction

14. Comfort: Quiet place | Helping them calm down | “Hang in there”

Trapped

15. Hurt: Painful restraints | Chemically subdued | “No one’s coming”

16. Comfort: Rescue | “It’s alright, you’re safe” | Support/carrying

Medical

17. Hurt: Emergency/field medicine | Hospitalized | Medical trauma

18. Comfort: Being believed | Symptoms relieved | Diagnosis

Breaking Point

19. Hurt: Self-sabotage | “Pushing through” | Collapse

20. Comfort: “You’re not alone” | “Give them time” | Loyalty

EMOTIONAL HURT Loss

21. Hurt: Frustrated ambition | Something lost permanently | Missing out

22. Comfort: Adjusted expectations | There no matter what | New paths

Autonomy

23. Hurt: “I know what’s best for you” | Defiance | “My body’s not mine”

24. Comfort: “It’s your decision” | Leadership | At home in their body

Psychological Effects

25. Hurt: In a bad mood | Out of energy | At the end of their rope

26. Comfort: Moral support | “You can rest now” | “Give them space”

Stoicism

27. Hurt: Hiding a condition | Impossible standards | “I’m used to it”

28. Comfort: Explicit support | Opening up | “I won’t leave you”

Intimacy

29. Hurt: Miscommunication | Trust issues | Fear of rejection

30. Comfort: Adapting intimacy | Let it all out | Kiss (or more) and make up

Rules below the cut:

This event will be centered on characters with disabilities and chronic conditions, both visible (ex, paraplegia; limb differences) and invisible (ex, migraines; CFS). For writing to qualify, please have one or more disabled/chronically ill characters as the focus of your story, rather than a side character/cameo in a story about abled characters. Prompts are meant to facilitate stories about disability and disabled characters in the genres of hurt/comfort and whump (also known as hurt-no-comfort).

"Disability" can have a broad definition, and many conditions can be disabling. The moderator will not be filtering or rejecting submissions based on what medical conditions "count"; the only parameter is that the central character lives with a chronic condition of some type which is disabling for them in some way. Disabililties which come about in a fantasy or sci-fi setting are welcome as long as they are portrayed as being disabling in some way which is anaolgous (eg, a permanent problem caused by magic, or vampirism as a fantasy-disability).

Please do not TAG your posts/links with the names of disabilities you are writing about, or with “disability” or “chronic illness”, as those tags are used by disabled folks to talk about our RL disabilities and in the past there have been issues with writers inadvertently clogging those tags with fiction/writing advice.

Please DO tag your posts and links #disabledwhc2025 and, in a second tag, the day (eg, #day 1: established disability) so the mod can find and reblog them to the blog!

Original work and fanfic are both welcome; anything goes in terms of settings and genres (fantasy, sci-fi) as long as it’s h/c or whump.

You do not have to write for every prompt (that’s why there’s a mix of hurt and comfort!) or every day to be featured. If you don’t have time for 30 days, do as many as you feel like. If you only write either H/C or Whump, you can do a 15-day challenge, reinterpret the hurt prompts to include comfort, and/or find a whumpy spin on the comfort prompts.

If you write prompts out of order please still tag which day you are writing for and the title of that prompt set. So if you decide to post the prompt “frustrated ambition” from the set “Loss”, which is day 21, on April 3, please still tag your April 3 post “day 21: loss”.

There are no restrictions on what content can be posted, but please use content notes for the following topics: "Rape/noncon" "Underage" "Graphic Depictions of Violence" (ie gore), and "Major Character Death" before the start of your piece. You can also use the warning "Creator Chose Not to Use Content Warnings" if you do not want to spoil fic. Please use a "read more" for these pieces.

Please tag any NSFT works (explicit sexual content) as "NSFT". Please use a "read more" for these pieces.

#disabledwhc2025 #whump #hurt/comfort #writing challenge #prompt challenge

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mapsthewanderer · 2 months ago

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Caffeine, chemistry and Caleb VIII

Synopsis: The café was supposed to be just another coffee shop. For a law student who enjoys her morning coffee and a shy newbie still learning the ropes, it should have been nothing more than part of the daily routine… But then there’s Caleb.

Details: Another 3000-worder (sorry lol). Non MC!reader as the law student. This chapter features our favorite trio. Light angst, lots of wholesome vibes, flirting, tension, and banter. We’re back at it and… we keep peeling barista booooi. Romcom all the way and deffo not 18+ (go away tumblr)

Parts: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12

Tags: @gavin3469 @unstablemiss @i-messed-up-big-time @mipov101 @zukini-01 @ariakamil @zaynessdarling @gojosballsack69

Exhibit A(bsolutely not over him) | Pt. 8

You haven’t stepped foot in the café in two days. What you have been doing is eating Golden Delicious apples until your stomach turned.

And that’s what finally reminded you of something important: You are, in fact, still a law student. And law students cannot afford to tank their entire future over a man with unfairly good forearms, a devastating smile, and an apple charm that clearly wasn’t just an accessory.

Not when it’s obvious now��undeniably, painfully obvious—that he’s taken.

You were never in the running.

You were just… killing time.

And now? You’ve seen the proof.

Time to stop pretending otherwise.

So, you’re buried in case law—mortgages, foreclosure procedures, and the soul-crushing distinction between de lege lata and de lege ferenda.

Except for that twenty-minute break earlier when you absolutely, definitely did not go down a google rabbit hole about psychological testing in aviation training.

… Not to mention the newbie texting you yesterday.

newbie: he’s wearing a navy button-down. i know the case is closed. just thought you’d want the update.

newbie: hair’s messy.

newbie: he just offered someone extra foam with a wink. i’m going to throw myself into the milk fridge to remind myself that this case is closed. sorry.

You’d bitten the inside of your cheek just to keep from grabbing your bag and sprinting there like a woman possessed.

So yeah. Extremely focused. Laser-sharp.

But you had stayed away.

Your highlighter is again uncapped. Your outline is almost legible. You are, objectively, thriving. Eating a sad multigrain bar between paragraphs and chasing it with lukewarm water like it’s a performance enhancer.

And then your phone buzzes.

Unknown number.

You stare at the screen. Don’t open it. Just… hover over the preview.

Unknown Number: hey. don’t you want your caffeine anymore? i can make you something else. de-caf americano. lavender latte. fake espresso with oat milk and ego support. or something worse :3 caleb (got your number from the newbie. hope that’s not a crime.)

You actually stop breathing.

Like, for real. Chest still. Brain blank.

Your heart has the audacity to flutter. Traitor.

You check the time. You should be reading about lien enforcement. Instead, you’re calculating how long to wait before answering so it looks like you’re busy and unaffected.

You add him to your contacts like a normal, composed person.

Then scream internally for a full minute.

Exactly eleven minutes pass before a reply is sent—just long enough to look busy, not eager.

you: wow. illegally obtained contact info and weaponized oat milk? bold strategy, counselor.

He replies immediately.

Barista Boi™ (DO NOT FLIRT): i prefer the term morally flexible barista. you want the latte or not?

you: define “latte.” is this a real drink or a coded trap?

Barista Boi™ (DO NOT FLIRT): yes

You scowl at your phone, biting back a smile.

you: i’m studying.

Barista Boi™ (DO NOT FLIRT): and i’m offering academic support. in beverage form.

you: …is this a bribe?

Barista Boi™ (DO NOT FLIRT): depends. is it working? :3

Of course you don’t answer right away. You make him wait this time. On purpose. Thirty minutes pass. You even get through two and a half pages of your reading before you cave.

you: i could maybe stop by. for like ten minutes. purely for the fake espresso.

Barista Boi™ (DO NOT FLIRT): :D perfect. i’ll be ready. and i’ll make sure the newbie doesn’t rat you out for folding under pressure :P

You glance at your reflection in your laptop screen. You look like someone trying not to smile.

You fail.

——————————————————————————

Ten minutes. That’s what you told yourself.

Ten minutes. In and out.

And yet—you pause outside the café window, checking your reflection checking your reflection like Professor Litt’s about to grade it. Hair? Rebraided. Clean. Tight. Strategic. Lip gloss? Freshly applied. Not too much, just enough to look unbothered. Like you woke up glowing, not panicking about your response time and lack of emojis.

You push the door open.

The bell chimes.

And then there he is.

Behind the counter, in a black fitted tee that fits too well, apron tied low on his waist like it’s a fashion statement instead of a uniform, he’s cleaning the counter. He stretches forward to drag the rag across the far edge, one arm bracing his weight, the other gliding the cloth in wide circles. A vein pops along his forearm with the motion.

Your breath stutters for half a second.

He glances up.

Sees you.

And—oh no—he smiles.

The good one. Slow. Warm. Like you’re the most interesting thing in the room and he’s so glad you walked in.

“Hey,” Caleb says. “You look—”

A pause. His eyes scan you, just briefly.

“Really good.”

Your pulse skips like a badly written objection.

“Studying looks good on you,” he adds, tossing the rag aside as he steps toward the espresso machine. “What’ll it be? Oat milk ego boost? Fake espresso?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Whatever supports academic integrity.”

He grins. “So… lavender guilt with a hint of vanilla ambition.”

“Perfect.”

Behind the counter, the newbie ducks out of view with suspicious timing. Probably pretending to organize straws. Probably texting you in all caps.

Sure enough, your phone buzzes:

newbie: ok so we’re not dropping barista boi? because i distinctly remember “case closed” energy two nights ago… and you said you’d only show up during my solo shifts…

You exhale. Type back quickly:

you: i know. i meant it. mostly

You stare at the screen. Then add:

you: there’s just… one thing i still need to figure out. something he said. i’ll tell you when i know

A few seconds later:

newbie: i’ll be waiting (and possibly reorganizing inventory until then)

You glance up.

They’re crouched behind the counter, aggressively focused on a box of wooden stir sticks and definitely not subtle. Right.

You take your usual seat, pretending this is casual. That you don’t feel your lip gloss catching on your smile. That you’re not watching Caleb’s hands as he works—entirely too good at this for your emotional well-being.

He slides the drink toward you a moment later.

You rise, shift your weight like you’re pretending this is no big deal, grab the cup—and by the time you’re lowering yourself back into the chair, he’s already grinning.

Before you can respond, the newbie drifts by, eyeing the scene with quiet dread and maybe a flicker of amusement. They point vaguely between you two with a cloth in hand.

“Is this, like… scheduled flirting or do I need to update the roster?”

Caleb doesn’t miss a beat. “Let’s call it a catch-up session. Someone’s been ghosting their caffeine dealer for two days.”

You raise your cup, playing it cool. “Had to detox from questionable latte crimes.”

The newbie snorts. “Sustained.”

Caleb leans in just slightly, voice low. “Counterpoint: I missed the chaos.”

You sip, eyes locked. “Careful. I might bring it back in full force.”

The newbie exhales like they’re watching an HR violation unfold in real time.

You sip your drink again. It’s perfect.

Of course it is.

Before you can take another, Caleb’s already untying his apron like he’s done it a hundred times without thinking. He tosses it behind the counter, then shrugs into his jacket. Then he walks over like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like you’re not still trying to recover from the way he complimented you when you walked in.

He pulls out the chair across from you and sits—casual, easy, focused entirely on you.

“Clock’s off,” he says. “Extension granted.”

You raise your cup. “Wow. An unsupervised barista in the wild.”

He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Careful. I’m dangerous without caffeine supervision.”

You smile into your drink. “You are the caution label.”

Caleb grins, easy and crooked, like he knows it’s true. But then silence settles in—comfortable at first, then strange. You realize you don’t actually know what to ask him. Not anything normal. Not anything safe.

That’s when the newbie drifts over again, towel still in hand and one brow raised. “Didn’t you say you had to leave exactly on time? Plans, or something?”

Caleb doesn’t look up right away. “Yeah,” he says slowly, sliding a finger along the edge of the table. “Changed my mind.”

Then—just a shrug. No comment. They turn and walk off, disappearing behind the espresso machine like they’ve decided they’ve already witnessed enough plot for one shift.

Your phone buzzes a second later.

newbie: he totally bailed on a date for you. i’m not saying i approve. but i am saying… damn gurl

You pretend to stare into your drink, hiding the flush that climbs up your neck. One hand cradles the cup, the other slips under the table to text.

you: noted. proceeding with caution.

newbie: you’re already toast

And you’re left sitting there. Caleb still not looking at you. Still pretending your pulse hasn’t picked up again.

You look at him, careful. “So… how does your date feel about being stood up?”

You try to make it light. Offhand. Like it’s a joke. But your hands are wrapped a little too tightly around your cup.

He doesn’t flinch. Just holds your gaze and says,

“She’ll survive.”

You raise an eyebrow, and he adds—quieter now, more certain,

“I’m just… starting to make the right priorities.” He leans back slightly, eyes still on you. “Honestly? I prefer this date over the one I had lined up.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Wow. So cross-examination is your ideal date?”

He grins, unbothered. “I don’t mind a little pressure.”

A quiet breath escapes as your thumb drags along the rim of your cup, buying time you’re not sure you need.

“Well,” you say, a little softer now. “Something you said at the farmers market stuck with me.”

His smile fades just a little—still gentle, but cautious now.

“If you don’t mind,” you continue, “I’d like to ask one more serious question. And then I’ll get out of your hair.”

He nods slowly. “Go on.”

The question leaves your mouth before you can overthink it. “So… do they really make you take psych evals in aviation school? Like, sit in a room and prove you’re not gonna fly off the handle mid-flight?”

He hums, glancing down at his hands. The moment stretches—something careful and unfinished in the space between you.

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “It’s… part of it.”

You wait. Just for a second. But he doesn’t add anything.

Doesn’t look up either.

You backpedal before you realize why. “Sorry—was that a weird question?”

He finally looks at you. Smiles, but not quite like before.

“Nah. Just… not all turbulence is flight-related, you know?”

It lingers. Quiet.

You nod like you get it. You don’t push.

Instead, you check the time and start to gather your things.

“Well. I should head back to the library. Real law waits for no one.”

Caleb stands up with you. “Mind if I walk you?”

You pause. “To campus?”

One corner of his mouth quirks up as his hands disappear into his jacket pockets. “Unless that violates attorney-client privilege.”

You try to act cool. Casual.

But your heart’s doing flips like it just passed the bar on vibes alone.

“…Sure,” you say. “As long as you promise not to distract me from my constitutional crisis.”

“No promises.”

——————————————————————————

You didn’t think walking back with Caleb would feel like anything.

But it does.

It doesn’t feel like the farmers market. There’s no soft buzz of vendors or distraction of overpriced produce. No easy banter. It’s just a ten-minute stroll through campus. And every step feels charged. Not tense—just aware.

Aware of the way his shoulder brushes yours every so often. Aware of the fact that he’s not saying anything too deep—but he could. And aware that whatever weight hangs between you now, it’s heavier than before. Not bitter. Just real. Like he’s thinking, maybe, just as loudly as you are.

You try to focus on the path ahead. The looming faculty building. The notes in your bag. The faint echo of de lege ferenda in the back of your brain.

But instead, your thoughts keep rerouting to him. To how beautiful he looks walking next to you—hands in his pockets, jacket slightly open, the chain around his neck just barely visible under the collar of his shirt. There’s a faint scent clinging to him—subtle cologne, warm cinnamon, and coffee. Familiar now. Unfairly comforting.

The apple charm flashes once.

And you look away.

“Campus is weirdly quiet at this hour,” he says, voice low.

You nod. “All the reasonable people went home to rest. The rest of us have finals and bad taste in coping mechanisms.”

He chuckles, a soft breath more than a laugh. “What category do I fall into?”

A breath of hesitation hangs in the air before your gaze flicks his way.

“You’re the exception.”

He arches a brow. “To which part?”

You smile, quiet. “Exactly.”

Then, casually—maybe too casually—you ask, “Why flying?”

He hesitates. Not long. But long enough.

“You already had your serious question,” he murmurs, lips quirking. “But fine. I’ll indulge you, Golden Girl…”

His gaze tilts skyward—toward the horizon where dusk spills purple into orange, soft as breath. The light kisses his skin, scattering gold across the freckles on his nose, tangling in the soft, unruly fall of his ashen brown bangs. And his eyes—those impossible eyes—catch every violet thread of sky like they were made for this hour, like the universe choreographed sunset just to wreck you slowly.

“There’s something about being up there,” he says, quieter now. “Everything feels small. Like it can’t touch you.”

You nod. “Sounds peaceful.”

He shrugs. “It used to be.”

It used to be.

You don’t press. You’re out of allowed serious questions. Dang.

He glances sideways at you, his voice a little softer. “You always this curious?”

You smirk. “I’m literally training to cross-examine people for a living.”

A quiet chuckle slips out, low and unsurprised. “Right. Should’ve seen that coming.”

The silence that follows is longer. He doesn’t fill it. Neither do you. Just the sound of your steps echoing on the pavement, both of you pretending this is still light.

And then, he says:

“I saw you.”

You stop. So does he.

His voice is softer now. Measured. “After I left you. At the farmers market. After we parted… I… I saw you walk away.”

Your throat tightens.

“I didn’t mean to—” you start.

“I know,” he says quickly. “You… don’t have to explain.”

You look away. It stings, hearing him say it. Knowing he knew. That you weren’t as invisible in your spiral as you hoped.

“She’s part of me,” he says finally, eyes on the dark stretch of sidewalk ahead. “Whether I like it or not.”

You don’t say anything.

“She was… important,” he adds. “Still is. Very much so. Maybe… In ways I wish she wasn’t.”

You glance at him. His jaw’s tight. Not sad—bitter. Quietly so.

“Serving coffee helps,” he says with a dry smile. “Stupid as that sounds. So does working. Part-time hours, full-time distraction.”

You don’t speak. Just listen. For once, you’re not cross-examining, not poking holes in the story.

“Flying was supposed to help too,” he continues. “Thought maybe if I was up there, I’d finally feel free. Untouchable. Like I could outrun… outfly all of it.”

He shakes his head. “Turns out… you land eventually. I… always get home on time. No matter how hard I try not to.”

He gives you a sideways look. Not for pity. Just to see if you’re still here.

You are.

“I didn’t mean for you to see that,” he says. “And I didn’t want it to look like—”

“It’s okay,” you say quietly. “You don’t have to explain either.”

He exhales, the sound heavy even in the cool early evening air. “Yeah, but I want to.”

You reach the steps of the faculty. He slows with you.

There’s a pause. You glance at him.

He glances at you.

Then he blinks—like he’s just realized how much he said. How serious it suddenly got. You watch him. Carefully. Then, quiet but steady:

“Caleb. Am I an emotional distraction to you?”

That familiar smirk flickers to life—like he’s winding up to make a joke about your dwindling cross-examination time. But then it falters. Softens. Something gentler bleeding in at the edges.

“You ask that like it’s a bad thing,” he murmurs. “But I don’t want you to see it that way, Golden Girl.”

You lean in, just enough that your shoulders brush—just enough to make it teasing, grounding, not heavy.

You raise a brow. “Depends. Is this a paid role?”

“Not yet,” he says, voice dropping just slightly. “But the benefits are excellent.” He exhales. Runs a hand through his hair.

“I wanted us to stay light, Golden Girl,” he mutters, then flashes a crooked, too-fast smile.

You open your mouth—don’t know what to say.

But he keeps going, softer this time.

“I like being around you,” he says, voice low. “Not because of her. Just…”

Caleb pauses, searching for the words.

“Just because it reminds me of who I used to be. Someone I could… be lighter with. Before everything got so heavy.”

You don’t say anything.

But something in your chest cracks a little—softly. Quietly.

You nod once.

Then, without thinking, he brushes your arm with his fingers. Light. Fleeting. Just enough to feel real.

He holds your gaze.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

Not a question.

A soft certainty.

You could leave it there.

You should.

But you say it anyway, like it’s no big deal:

“…You could kiss me goodnight.”

He pauses.

Raises a brow. “Yeah?”

You shrug, playing it off. “Just to test it. See if it still feels lighthearted.”

A slow grin curves across his face. “Bit early for goodnight kisses, isn’t it?”

Then softer—closer: “And if I kissed you goodnight… it wouldn’t just be a goodnight kiss.”

Your breath catches. His eyes are still open—still watching. Fingers drift forward—just enough to brush against your hair. It’s not a kiss. But it feels like one.

Then—he exhales, a little laugh under his breath.

“We’d fail the test.”

You blink. “Why?”

His voice drops.

“Because I wouldn’t want to stop.”

You don’t answer. You don’t have to.

Because the ache in your chest says it all.

Still—

You let it settle.

You let it stay.

Then he walks away.

You blink. Once. Twice.

And then you turn on your heel and book it back inside. Back to the library. Back to your laptop. Your outlines. Your annotated casebooks.

Back to your safe zone.

The water bottle hits your desk like a gavel. A granola bar follows—torn open and half-devoured like it might file your stress for you. A blank doc blinks back at the chaos.

You start typing.

——————————————————————————

Caleb v. My F*cking Sanity

Exhibit A: Apple Girl

She exists.

Confirmed visual. Confirmed hug.

Still part of him. Still hurts.

Exhibit B: The Look

He knew I saw.

Felt bad.

Explained… sort of. That’s not nothing.

Exhibit C: The communication pattern

Texted me FIRST. Flirts.

“First-class comfort.”

Braid-touching violation.

Walked me back. Said “see you soon.” Like it meant something???

Exhibit D: The confession

“You remind me of who I used to be.”

He told me. Voluntarily.

Not sad, not sweet—true. Bitter?

Exhibit E: The proximity

The almost-kiss?!?!

Stepped closer.

Eyes open the whole time.

Looked at me like I might undo him wtf

Exhibit F: The Suggestion

I joked: “You could kiss me goodnight.”

He said: “Bit early for goodnight kisses.” …..

Like… early relationship-wise or early as in it’s not bedtime yet? Fml

Exhibit G: The Verdict

“We’d fail the test,” he said.

“Because I wouldn’t want to stop.”

(I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t… jesus)

——————————————————————————

You stare at the screen.

Your heart’s still pounding.

Your fingers hover over the keys—then type one last paragraph:

——————————————————————————

Case Status: Dangerously reopened. Evidence still being collected. *And I’m starting to think I might not want to win.

——————————————————————————

Part 9

——————————————————————————

Writer’s note: Ahhh, here we are again, dear readers: Spiraling straight back into his orbit. There’s just something about a guy who uses :3 So… are you feeling the vibe? Picking up on what Caleb’s trying to tell us? I really hope my initial arc for him is starting to take shape, hehe. (This is, without a doubt, the only arc I can imagine Caleb having… testing, maybe even choosing someone other than the MC. The song below is Caleb’s theme song “back to you, back to you nanananaa”) Now, technically, I could drag this story out forever. I mean, the banter? The flirting? Yum. However, I was thinking about starting to wrap things up… buuuut if you’re into this, I can absolutely slow-burn it into oblivion. Let me know! Anyway, see you in the next one, and have a great weekend, peepz! Okey then, thank you for reading 🫶🏻

#barista caleb #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace #lnds caleb #lads caleb #you x caleb #non mc x caleb #reader x caleb #fanfic love and deepspace #fanfic caleb

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thatbanditqueen · 3 months ago

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The Cactus Tree TOST One-Shot Snippet

I've been writing this on and off for months, among about five other wip chapters ficlets etc....I am setting a goal for myself to finish it this week because I want to return to this world and dive back into Elvis and Midge and explore different times from my fic The Only Sure Thing.

This is a snippet of a TOST one-shot I'm writing set in 1968. Midge has been on her own working in TV for the last couple of years, and after a rough up and down journey is trying to claw back her career. One Friday night she finds herself stuck in Palm Springs when a blast from her past rides out of the desert and back into her life....

Warnings: Nothing...yet.

Let me know if you want to be tagged or tagged - I copied an old taglist from my last TOST posting..... thanks to my friend whositmcwhatsit for alpha-ing this post from the afterlife outside tumblr and to @vintageshanny for cheering me on in my writing when I doubt myself.... To all my friends here in elvis fic world I am grateful to connect with you through him

9:34 p.m. Friday, December 11 1968

Starlite Diner, Palm Springs

I was looking out at the desert as I whined to Rona. I caught my scowl staring back at me in the mirror above the payphone and frowned deeper.

“Midge? You still there?”

Rona’s voice echoed over the phone line.

I balanced the phone on my shoulder and wiped off the liner and mascara under my eyes, doing my best to smooth the flyaways jumping off the sides of my french twist.

“Sorry, Ro. Lost my train of thought - what was I saying? Oh yeah, no, so then she just took the script and told me - no, ordered me - to come back tomorrow morning. She must know I drove out here from the studio. What does she think I’m going to do for the next 14 hours?”

Rona’s voice purred back at me, warm and reassuring like a cup of coffee on a cold day.

“Oh pussycat, you know how this game works. Lucy can do whatever she wants. Besides, I thought you told Helen you’d do whatever it took to - ”

“I know,” I sighed, thinking of my desperate promises. Promises I had made when I got out of The Farm and was back in LA, made begging my old boss for a second chance. “I just - I didn’t think she’d stick me with Bobbi. That woman has it out for me. You should have seen her jump at the chance to send me here.”

“Stop sulking, Midge, it will give you wrinkles. You’re in one of the most exclusive resorts in the world. Why not take the opportunity and spend the weekend out there.”

I glanced over my shoulder at the lifeless main street on the other side of the diner and sighed.

“I’d consider it, but it’s emptier than Macy’s after a sale. I'm at the edge of civilization out here, I can’t figure why people make such a fuss about getting away to Palm Springs. Who would want to spend time here?”

Rona coughed. Pointedly. “Ahem. Well, me, for one.”

“Oh yeah.” I gulped, remembering why I’d called. “So, can I crash at your pad?”

“You know I would almost be insulted, Miriam, if I weren’t used to your meshugas.”

I could hear Rona rolling her eyes.

“I know I know,I’m a thoughtless jerk always sticking my foot in my mouth.”

“Enough with the half-assed apologies already. Of course you can stay at my place, Midge. All I ask is that you keep an open mind and try to enjoy it. Because getting away from civilization is the whole point.”

“I guess I just don’t get the appeal.”

“Peter Lawford has the house next to mine. If you see him, you should ask him why he'd want to hide out from his wife or the studios and their morality clauses, and spend the weekend suffering by the pool with his harem of mistresses. Behind all those tall hedges. In our gated community.”

“Hmm, so you’re saying Palm Springs is for sex. Of course. But wait, you can’t tell me Lucy is coming out here to have secret orgies.”

I heard a dish rattle, and turned to see the diner’s lone waitress filling my coffee cup back at the counter. I wondered if she had heard me and smiled awkwardly at her as I listened to Rona.

“You might be surprised.”

“Rona. Not everything is about sex.”

“Ok, so, it’s also privacy. Status. And relaxation. You should try it. Maybe you’ll hit it off with Peter.”

“Ha, no thanks. I’m done with men for a while.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous. A good schtupping is just what you need, it’s been what, a few months?”

I caught myself frowning again and twirled the pay phone, clearing my throat.

“It’s been - a - look. I’m just starting to get things back together, I don’t want any distractions.”

Rona tutted at me.

“Who said anything about a distraction? You’re overthinking this. Unless, what, is this some sort of AA thing or something?”

“No, not really. It’s more of a me rule.”

“OK, but wait, what if Peter doesn’t stick it in all the way, just an inch-”

“Rona!”

“That doesn’t break your rule, right?”

“That might work for the Kennedys, Ro, but not for me.”

I had to cover my mouth after another curious look from the waitress followed our burst of giggles.

A small potted cactus sat next to the cash register at the front of the diner and I stood there, studying it, as the waitress drew me a map to Rona’s place.

I nodded at the plant.

“Isn’t it hard enough trying to avoid these things outside without bringing them inside as pets?”

The waitress paused and looked up at me. Her face was framed by her long blonde hair hanging down around her face unstyled. Upon closer inspection, I realized that she wasn’t wearing any make-up. Or a bra.

“My heart is full and free like the cactus tree.” She hummed lightly. “I think she’s beautiful -”

“- she?” I mused.

“Oh yeah, she’s definitely a girl. She told me so when I liberated her.”

“Liberated, huh?”

“Mmmm. From the sun. Takes a lot for cacti to survive in the desert. Can’t blame them for trying to protect themselves, and I think it makes her all the more beautiful.”

“Well, that’s a first. If being prickly makes you beautiful, I must be a knockout.”

“Huh?” The waitress looked up at me, eyes squinting, as if I’d just grown a third eye.

I looked at her, like really looked at her, for the first time that night. We were probably about the same age, I bet she was 25 or 26, but she spoke to me like I was some 100 years old. I wanted to pick up her liberated cactus plant and use it to pop her free spirit. Instead, I smiled sweetly and took my map.

“Well. She doesn't seem very free to me, all caged up in here just for you to admire.”

The waitress started to say something, but I didn’t hear it. I was suddenly distracted by a large cloud forming in the desert behind her.

“Say, is that some sort of nighttime sandstorm?”

She looked over her shoulder where I pointed.

“Ugh, it’s those bums - just a bunch of rich teens from Las Palmas racing the sand dunes.”

“You’d think it would be illegal after dark.”

“It is.” The waitress shrugged. “But those pricks don’t think the rules apply to them, and I guess the cops agree. No one ever comes after them. They've done it every weekend this month.”

The sand clouds grew until they were not more than fifty yards off, and then an army of ants drove out from under the dust, growing larger as they swerved haphazardly toward us.

“Well, I guess if you can’t find the nightlife you have to make it yourself.”

The waitress folded her arms and directed her disdain towards the fleet of buggies zooming over the sand. “Oh yeah, they think our parking lot is just here to be a turning point in their relay race.”

“Teenage boys are idiots. How did our species ever evolve?”

She nodded halfheartedly, quiet as we watched the buggies jump the top of the concrete wall that divided the desert from this part of town.

“Gosh, I thought for sure he was gonna eat it.”

“Nah, they make it alright. ” She turned, nonchalantly, to finish my map. “S’like Dylan said, the rich man drives his Lincoln past the red light with a grin.”

“Ain’t it the truth.”

The sounds of teen boys hooting with delight followed me to my car, and I smiled at their youthful exuberance, trying to think of the last time I’d done anything reckless. Probably the last time I’d seen Elvis.

And then, as if my memories were coming alive, one of the racing karts crossed my path and I was staring into a face I knew all too well.

I blinked, frozen in my tracks. Was I hallucinating? This was no teenage boy. No. It was Alan. One of the guys in Elvis’ entourage. One of the guys I’d known almost all my life.

Alan had watched from the sidelines living, like I was, in Elvis' LA homes as I’d gone through all the cliche stages of first love in the arms of an insecure movie star incapable of fidelity: smitten idiot, playmate, devoted lover and scorned lunatic. And Elvis had played his roles impeccably, hitting all the marks of besotted loverboy, impulsive child, jealous partner and spiteful cad.

One of the good things to come out of all those sessions at The Farm was understanding that I had done this to myself. And working with Shirley, my AA sponsor, I’d been able to let go of all the resentment I had carried around toward him like a bucket of mud I’d been carrying around on my head. When I was honest with myself, I knew that I had been with Elvis, as always, the architect of my own demise.

I had known from the moment I first smiled at Elvis that the spark I’d felt in my belly was dangerous. That to pursue him was a bad idea. Before we even kissed. He’d been dating Anita then, along with every co-star and a cadre of fairweather girls from Los Angeles to Memphis. Facts I had known well, courtesy of my brother, Artie, who, like Alan, was in Elvis’ entourage. Yes, even at 17 I had known all the way to my core that getting involved with Elvis was a no good, very bad absolutely train wreck of an idea.

But I hadn’t been able to help myself.

And it had been the mistake that kept on giving. Even after I had stopped living with him, even after I had sworn to never see him again, something would happen. I’d run into him, or Charlie would call me out of the blue, and suddenly I forgot all the pain and heartache and ran right back to him like a ship purposefully charting course for a hurricane. Until she destroyed herself.

I wasn’t that girl anymore though. I had left her and all her other bad decisions in New York when I went to The Farm a year ago. I was smart. I knew better. And I knew how to act like it too now.

And so, when I heard his voice there, in the cool desert night, bringing me back from the past and into the moment, I took a deep breath and steeled myself against the pounding of my heart

“Quit scaring the locals, Hog Ears. Damn boy.” The buggie stopped moving and Elvis turned toward me. One arm was snaked around a petite blonde, while the other waved at me and his tone shifted to the aw shucks Southern charm he used on unsuspecting strangers.

“Sorry, ma’am, you’ll have to forgive my friend here - he can’t drive for nothin’ - “

Our eyes met and I blushed when the recognition knocked the words out of his mouth.

His tall, slim body was still only for a beat as he did a double take, and then launched out of the buggie like a rocket to pull me into a tight embrace before I could even say hello.

“Miryum, is it really you? I can’t believe it.”

“Uh-huh-um-yeah.”

His eyes were bright as he looked me over and I pinched my nail into my palm trying to quell the nervous flutter in my chest.

“You out here looking for me, honey?”

His voice was low and sweet, and his hands found my waist with a familiar squeeze. They rolled over my body the way he might run them over an old coat, checking to make sure his wallet was still where he left it.

I wanted to collapse into him, soak up the smell of sweat and cheap cigars and earthy desert air that I found in his chest and stay there forever. The intensity of his fingers grasping my sides tempted me, but then I heard a cough and found a sweet blonde looking back at me over his shoulder with an even sweeter smile.

Elvis stepped back and shook his head as if coming out of a daze, then ran his hand through his hair, but it didn’t do any good. The black shiny mess flopped back out like a mushroom over the sides of his head.

I laughed out at it and he narrowed his eyes at me, licking my shin with the tip of his shoe and then shuffling back and jamming his hands into his back pockets as he glanced at his companion.

“Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, uh, this is “

The blonde smiled bigger as she stuck out her hand and tried to hug me too. She must be a native Californian.

“Susie.”

Elvis rested his arm on her shoulder and pointed at me,

“This is uh Miryum, Artie’s - uh - friend. Sister. From Memphhiss.”

Susie took my hand in hers, warm and kind all the things I was much to try to even try to fake.

“Neato, I love that guy. He’s so fun. You guys here for the weekend?”

Fun. A word I never applied to my brother and his permanent frown. I smiled even bigger and friendlier.

“Oh, no. I’m actually in Palm Springs for work. I didn’t even know you had a place out here.”

His steady gaze faltered, just for a moment, like a candle flickering in the wind.

“I guess it’s been a while, ain’t it.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

The husky, low grain of his voice sent a shiver down my back and I had to look at the ground to escape his eyes as they searched my face.

“Artie was just here last weekend, wasn’t he, El?”

Elvis looked up at the sound of her voice, as if he had forgotten she was here. Even as his hand hung over her shoulder.

“Huh, what honey? Oh yeah, we should get back. Joe and Richard liable to have eaten all the chow.”

Elvis gave me a kiss on the cheek and murmured how good it was to see me.

“You need anything, you just let me know, ok? Anything, baby. I mean it.”

His breath was warm against my skin and I had to bite my lip to stop the sigh at the back of my throat from coming out. I nodded and mumbled at my feet.

“I know.”

I hit his shoulder, and Susan ambushed me with a big hug and whispered “I hope I see you around.”

Our bonding was cut short by Elvis’ loud stomping back to his buggy and I watched her scurry to catch up. He waved his hand in farewell from the go-cart, and with a final wink, started his engine and descended back into the desert from whence he had emerged like a mirage at an oasis.

I clenched my fists and sighed at the moon; Ready to let gravity take me down to the dirty, rough ground of this empty parking lot, but, instead, I took a deep breath and summoned the strength to force my legs to carry me to my car and contemplate the twisted sense of humour of the universe.

Six months ago, I had returned to LA and I had purposefully been avoiding Elvis since coming back. Of course I would run into him here. Tired, disheveled, hardly able to form complete sentences after a day from hell.

It was almost too absurd to believe.

I began to doubt if this had really happened. Had Elvis been here at all, or was I having a nervous breakdown? Maybe I was still at The Farm, strapped in for another electric shock treatment and, any minute, I would come too, sweaty and naked under a robe, screaming as I convulsed into the lights above my head.

I slapped my cheek.

“You’re crazy, you know that? You need sleep.”

Scott McKenzie was on the radio, and I began to sing along as I put the car in first gear. Then there was a loud slap on the window and I screamed at the top of my lungs as I turned to find Alan standing there, asking me where I was staying.

comment and let me know what you think.....

@lookingforrainbows

@vintageshanny

@ellie-24

@be-my-ally

@missmaywemeetagain

@from-memphis-with-love

@shakerattlescroll

@peskybedtime

@eliseinmemphis

@notstefaniepresley

@beeandheroddobsessions

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@richardslady121

@doll-elvis

@burningloverdoll

@dkayfixates

@ohjustpeachy1

@artlover8992

@everythingelvispresley

@velvetelvis

@ashtag6887

@horror-movieshoes

@i-r-i-n-a-a

@ooihcnoiwlerh

@moonchild-daniella

@lialocklear

@obsessionisthecure

@literally-just-elvis-fics

@eapep

@lulubell3

@amix1982

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis #elvis x oc #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #hollywood elvis #elvis fan fic #elvis fan fiction #the only sure thing #thatbanditqueen #palm springs 1968 #Spotify

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nataliescatorccioapologist · 6 months ago

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Starting a Yellowjackets tag!

I want to get my mind off of things so: If you want, answer any or all of the questions below and tag 10 people (or however many you want) who also might want to share! I would love to see what you guys have to say!

1. Are you team Rational or Supernatural?

2. Who is your favorite teen timeline character? Favorite adult timeline character?

3. What is your favorite needledrop?

4. What is your favorite ship?

5. What is your favorite episode?

6. Who do you want the Antler Queen to be?

7. What is your favorite scene in the entire series?

8. A theory or prediction you have about Season 3?

9. Which character do you relate to the most, and why?

10. What is the craziest thing you’ve done in the name of Yellowjackets?

Bonus:

11. What’s your most controversial Yellowjackets take?

—

Here’s mine!

1. I am mostly Team Rational because I love the way this show depicts trauma but I also love seeing the supernatural side of things through the survivors’ eyes if that makes sense.

2. Natalie in the teen timeline because I love her compassion and softness underneath the front she puts on. Lottie in the adult timeline because I love her internal battle with herself and how afraid she is of her own mind. Misty is a close second in the adult timeline!

3. “Cornflake Girl” playing while Nat sees the mossy tree for the first time, Callie seeing the Adam Martin driver’s license in the barbecue, and Shauna eating Jackie’s ear. It just goes so perfectly with everything that’s going on (especially the elevated piano while Nat and Travis are scaling the mountain and the lyrics while Shauna takes the bite!)

4. LottieNat is my favorite ship I can’t help it Nat and Lottie are my favorite characters so having them together is a dream (TaiVan, JackieShauna, and TravNat are up there, too).

5. 1x09 “Doomcoming” is just amazing and captures everything I love about Yellowjackets. I love when they let the girls go batshit crazy, hoping we get more Doomcoming vibes in S3.

6. I want the Antler Queen to be Natalie because that would show a true descent for her in the Wilderness from being the most morally grounded one to the leader of the group at their most unhinged and primal. But honestly I think that Shauna might be the AQ after all…

7. I think the Jackie-eating scene is the best in the entire show. The “Climbing Up the Walls” song choice, the bacchanal feast flashes as a way of coping with the horror of what they’re doing, seeing them go fully feral for the first time, it’s such a well crafted scene.

8. I know this probably won’t happen but I’m just going to throw it out there that Cabin Daughter is alive and she will be revealed to have been Javi’s “friend”!

9. I relate to Shauna the most because I also admittedly have a bit of an obsessive/intense personality and I, too, internalize my emotions to a very unhealthy degree sometimes. I also grew up being in love with my childhood best friend who is very, very much like Jackie (and now we have been dating for 7 years!)

10. Mine is a mix of going to a Yellowjackets panel and sitting like 5 feet from the showrunners, doing everything in my power to score early screening tickets to Heretic and Companion, and pretending I was sick so I could go home early from work the day that the S3 trailer came out.

11. The male characters on this show get too much hate🫢 I like Travis, Jeff, Kevyn, and Walter (even though his introduction and storyline are rushed and forced). I don’t like them more than the female characters, but I like them nevertheless and appreciate their contributions to the plot.

No pressure tags! (I’m tagging 15 bc I feel like it) @before-it-felt-like-a-sin @baked-potatoes-rule @jackiesnats @deerest-deer @whodoesnataliehave @stilllsage @fairytwles @glitterfairy-21225 @lesbianforlottie @tr4vnat @lauraleetaylor @cassioo @natsboygirlfriend @soapyjackets @pinkkkkat @natgf123 +literally anyone else who wants to!

#yellowjackets

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happypedrohours · 6 months ago

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Bouquets of Pedro Creativity Challenge

Welcome to our new Creativity Challenge for our next Happy Pedro Hours event! We're excited to see what you'll create! How does it work?

Send us an ask to pick a number between 1 and 26. You will be given a prompt made up of one Pedro character and one Valentine's Day themed prompt.

Create something based on this prompt: it can be a fic, a moodboard, even some art, this is a very inclusive event, anything artistic is a go!

It's up to you to decide if you want to create something fluffy, smutty or angsty. We just ask you that you tag your post accordingly, and that you have fun!

Post your creation between February 14th and February 16th during the Happy Pedro Hours Pink Edition event. Please use the hashtags #happypedrohours and #bouquetsofpedrochallenge so we can find and reblog your creation.

We hope you'll be inspired to create some beautiful things. Reblogs are appreciated to spread the word. Tell your artist friends!!

Bouquet list

💐1: Valentine, Texas (Joel Miller & drive-in date) by @evolnoomym

💐2: Preciosa (Pero Tovar & lingerie) by @lotusbxtch

💐3: Clint & being sick by @pedrospookie

💐4: Like Oil and Water (Marcus Moreno & enemies to lovers) by @din-cognito

💐5: Step by step (Frankie Morales & public proposal) by @penvisions

💐6: Over moodboard (Javier Gutierrez & someone has sworn off love) by @milla-frenchy

💐7: Silva & bouquet giving by @savedyounine

💐8: Sugar Shack (Agent Whiskey & sex toys) by @inept-the-magnificent

💐9: Crawling Back to You (Dieter's Version) (Dieter Bravo & PDA) by @604to647

💐10: Moodboard (Ezra & speed dating) by @rulexofxnines

💐11: Amantes Sunt Amentes (Marcus Acacius & friends to lovers) by @tateypots

💐12: Life is for the Living (Marcus Moreno & serenade) by @joelalorian

💐13: Din Djarin & platonic love by @pedges-world

💐14: Valentine's a day to feel a lot of things (Fink & little black dress) by @just-mj-or-not

💐15: The Lore (Max Phillips & heart-shaped candy) by @popcornforone

💐16: To Drink Wine Under the Stars (Din Djarin & late for a date) by @hicanivent

💐17: Infused moodboard (Javier Peña & liquor-filled chocolate) by @prolix-yuy

💐18: Perfect Match (Dieter Bravo & dating apps) by @aurorawritestoescape

💐19: Set Stood Up (Dave York & stood up on a date) by @quinnnfabrgay-writes

💐20: A Cupid’s Tale (Marcus Pike & Cupid's bow and arrow) by @oliveksmoked

💐21: Sanctuary (Din Djarin & At home spa date) by @snshineandgnpwdr

💐22: Love At First Sight (Maxwell Lord & love at first sight) by @berryispunk

💐23: The Senator’s Secret Prince (Oberyn & fake dating) by @baronessvonglitter

💐24: Silva & forgotten anniversary by @beefrobeefcal

💐25: Welcome Home (Ezra & homemade goods) by @thepalaceofmelanie

💐26

#happypedrohours #happy pedro hours #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #bouquetsofpedro challenge

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uselesssomebody · 2 years ago

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𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 (18+)

the do's (rules & information):

readers must be over 18 reading these drabbles

all works will be under or roughly a thousand words

thirty-one days of smut drabbles

ten days are open to requests for the kinks

ten days will include dark content (will be properly tagged)

five will include a dominant reader

the don'ts (what i am not interested in writing):

i only write fem!readers, with all involved characters being over 18

the kinks i'd appreciate you don't request are anything to do with anal penetration, bodily fluids (besides blood and cum), and certain dom/sub dynamics like age play or ddlg

otherwise, ask away, and i'll see if i'm comfortable writing your request!

the kinks and the characters

october 1: shower sex w/ frankie morales

october 2: ball worship (dom!reader) w/ eddie munson

october 3: sex pollen (dark) w/ din djarin

october 4: consensual non-consent (dark) w/ miguel o'hara

october 5: threesome (ffm) w/ marc spector & layla el-faouly

october 6: requested kink & character

october 7: breeding kink (dark) w/ duke leto

october 8: somnophilia (dark) w/ eddie munson

october 9: mutual masturbation (dom!reader) w/ steven grant

october 10: threesome (mmf) + double penetration (in one hole) w/ frankie morales and santiago garcia

october 11: titfucking w/ javier peña

october 12: requested kink & character

october 13: exhibitionism w/ poe dameron

october 14: dacryphilia (dark) w/ joel miller

october 15: temperature play (dom!reader) w/ din djarin

october 16: phone sex w/ jack daniels

october 17: corruption kink (dark) w/ dio morrissey

october 18: requested kink & character

october 19: edging (dark!dom!reader) w/ basil stitt

october 20: recording/blackmail (dark) w/ jonathan levy

october 21: mask + glove kink w/ jake lockley

october 22: hate + mirror sex w/ javier peña

october 23: cockwarming (dom!reader) w/ steven grant

october 24: requested kink & character

october 25: overstimulation w/ jake lockley

october 26: size difference w/ miguel o'hara

october 27: knife kink (dark) w/ bucky barnes

october 28: free use (dark) w/ joel miller

october 29: sex toys w/ natasha romanoff

october 30: requested kink & character

october 31: period sex/blood kink w/ santiago garcia

the characters (you guys can request)

from stranger things, i write for eddie munson, robin buckley, billy hargrove or steve harrington

from marvel, i write for bucky barnes, steve rogers, natasha romanoff, jake lockley, marc spector, steven grant, layla el-faouly and miguel o'hara

from star wars, i write for poe dameron, or din djarin (the mandalorian)

from triple frontier, i write for frankie morales and santiago garcia

miscellaneous oscar isaac characters i write for include basil stitt, jonathan levy, duke leto, kane and orestes (agora)

miscellaneous pedro pascal characters i write for include joel miller, javier peña, jack daniels (agent whiskey), dio morrissey

if you want to request another character, don't hesitate! i will see what i can do.

notes

guys i know i haven't written in like 1200 months but i wanna get back into the mood with the short smutty stuff

besides, i've never done kinktober and every other one i've seen bangs so hard i simply couldn't resist

side note - dark fics will be only available on my adjacent dark blog: @darkuselesssomebody, but will be linked on this masterlist. if you wanna read the dark drabbles and future dark work, give it a follow!

i am also willing to take non-kinky & halloween themed requests, so if you have any, let me know!

𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

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noritaronovember · 1 month ago

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Introducing Noritaro November 2025!

Welcome to Noritaro Novemeber 2025! A month dedicated to Noriaki Kakyoin, Jotaro Kujo, and the bond they shared in JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 3: Stardust Crusaders. Despite the name, this can be platonic, romantic, or somewhere in between or outside; this is just a celebration of what their bond was, however you interpret it. Please feel free to pick and choose what days you wish to participate in – you don’t have to do it all!

The prompts are as follows:

Day 1: Hobbies/information/jokes

Day 2: Blue/green/purple

Day 3: Battles/blood/water

Day 4: Alternate universe/different ending/swap

Day 5: Fate/choice/bond

Day 6: Hierophant Green/emeralds/water

Day 7: Star Platinum/time/stars

Day 8: Roads/dust/laughter

Day 9: Wounds/touch/scars

Day 10: Safe/trust/close

Day 11: Hat/uniforms/scarf

Day 12: Study/books/language

Day 13: Age/cigarettes/alcohol

Day 14: Family/friends/duty

Day 15: Sleep/hotels/cars

Day 16: Wheel of Fortune/the Lovers/the Sun

Day 17: Ocean/desert/home

Day 18: Music/dancing/singing

Day 19: Future/past/present

Day 20: Cherries/oranges/home cooking

Day 21: Teamwork/understanding/listening

Day 22: Oneliners/wit/conversation

Day 23: Flower language/animal/symbolism

Day 24: Hands/cheeks/forehead

Day 25: Selflessness/ambition/respect

Day 26: Nickname/name/identity

Day 27: Anniversary/first meeting/handkerchief

Day 28: Height/strength/weight

Day 29: Uniform/jewelry/hair

Day 30: Loyalty/dedication/fascination

Current rules are as follows:

When submitting something for this project on tumblr, please tag @noritaronovember and tag your post “#noritaro november 2025”! This way your submission will for sure be seen!

NO NSFW for this project! Dirty jokes are allowed, so long as they aren’t too graphic, but limited nudity and no sex!

Do NOT participate if you are “proship”/“anti-anti”. Beyond the given moral complications, the moderator simply doesn't want to work creatively with proshippers — so if nothing else, respect that.

No EARLY submissions please, but LATE submissions are 100 percent allowed! Hell, if you see this two years after it’s over and still want to participate, or if it takes you two years to finish a submission, please do still submit and tag!

Submissions must relate to the prompts, but do NOT need to incorporate every prompt listed for one day. For example, if you have an idea for the "hobbies" prompt on Day 1, but don't care for the “information” or “jokes” prompts, it is fine and encouraged that you just do something for the hobbies prompt and nothing else! There is no need to include everything. There are multiple prompts just so there are plenty of options to draw inspiration from.

And that's it! Please let me know if you have any questions. Here is a google doc that will record the rules, dates, prompts, and answers to any questions that may arise: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1a-BHhGAPl8BtYhuu2Hpl2FeaNFswqHLyBALmAov2iW8/edit?usp=sharing

Thank you for your interest in Noritaro November!

#mod #info #noritaro november 2025 #jotakak #noritaro

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nerdieforpedro · 1 year ago

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Nerdie’s Fanfic Picks - Volume Seven!

All fanfics on this list are for readers age 18 and up, please respect the author's tags, warnings and notes as they're there so you know what's in them. YOU are in charge of your own reading experience!

1. Cuz I love you series (three parts) by @fhatbhabiee (DBF Joel Miller x reader)

2. Afterward - Chapter One by @secretelephanttattoo (Marcus Moreno x female reader)

3. Helpful not so Helpful Guide to Jake Johnson by @soft-persephone

4. A Gift of Life and Joy by @prolix-yuy (Javier Gutierrez x plus size female reader “Conejita)

5. Where the Wild Things Are by @fhatbhabiee (Jack Daniels x reader)

6. Teach You Patience by @frenchiereading (Frankie Morales x ofc)

7. In Bloom by @maggiemayhemnj (AU Ezra x GN reader)

8. Easy Access by @laurfilijames (Will Miller x female reader)

9. Drabble #4 by @drabblesandsnippets (Bucky Barnes x plus size reader)

10. Please Mr. Postman by @legendary-pink-dot (Sleezy mailman Joel Miller x female reader)

11. Afterword - Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 by @secretelephanttattoo (Marcus Moreno x f! Reader)

12. Sleep Tight Love by @superhoeva (Captain John Price x female reader)

13. Obligation by @criticallyacclaimedstranger (Joel Miller x f reader) both are older

14. Barking up the Wrong Tree - Chapter One and Chapter Two by @connectioneverywhere (Frankie Morales x f! Reader)

15. Obscenery by @sin-djarin (Tim Rockford x Dave York)

16. Fifteen hundred and one by @undercoverpena (Frankie Morales x f! Reader)

17. Friendly Face by @sunshineandspencer (Aaron Hotchner x fem receptionist)

18. Pretty Please by @baronessvonglitter (QZ Joel Miller x bookworm f! Reader)

19. It’s lonely at the end of the world (until it’s not) by @guessimwritingficsagain (Joel Miller x f! Reader) Mention of SA and mental trauma

20. Chapter 1 Howdy, Neighbor! by @inept-the-magnificent (Frankie Morales x Shelby plus size OFC)

21. A kind of look by @sunshineandspencer (Spencer Reid x fem BAU reader)

22. Worth A Thousand Words by @intoanotherworld23 (Joel Miller x f! Reader)

23. Raining in Baltimore by @schnarfer (Marcus Pike x f! Reader)

24. Fifteen Minutes by @whocaresstillthelouvre (Din Djarin x f! Cam reader AU)

25. Bunny - One Shot by @whatsnewalycat (Javier Peña x f! Reader)

Nerdie’s Fanfic Picks

Main Masterlist

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #nerdie fic rec #queue ur nerdie #pedro pascal fanfiction #cod fanfic #criminal minds #such fun things #jake johnson #Nerdie’s fanfic picks

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emeritusemeritus · 2 years ago

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Vulnera Sanentur [Weasley Twins x Reader]

Part 6

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Title: Vulnera Sanentur

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley {established relationship}

Timeline: DH1&2- Initially set during the battle of the seven potters. Canon and certain plot points have been altered for the needs of the story.

Summary: The battle of the seven Potters throws your world into chaos when one of your boyfriend’s is cursed. As Snape’s ex-potions assistant and previous protégée, you recognise the inflicted curse immediately and demand answers from your mentor.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of war and Voldy, descriptions of injury and blood, descriptive smut, p in v sex, shower sex, tension. Outside sex. Semi public sex. None sexual nudity. Crying. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Arguments. Probably some cursing. Mentions of nightmares. Reader is part of the Order of the Phoenix. Mentions of death (Dumbledore). Mentions of Tonks’ pregnancy. On it got a angsty. So much angst I can’t tag it all. Not spellchecked nor beta read, we die like Madeye.

Everything happened so fast.

One minute you were sat with Fred at Bill and Fleur's wedding reception, laughing and joking as you caught your breath after being twirled around on the dance floor for what seemed like hours and the next, you were running down Tottenham Court Road and fighting off death eaters in a grubby little café. Then came your long hideout at Grimmauld Place, the dangerous infiltration of the Ministry of Magic, Ron's splinching, his rest period and then eventual, rather dramatic departure, leaving you, Harry and Hermione to search for the remaining horcruxes alone.

The trio had told you all about the Horcruxes and the larger plan, leaving no detail left out as soon as you arrived back at Grimmauld Place, watching as you slipped through the protective enchantments unphased. So far you'd found very little except for Salazar Slytherin's real locket which had been a curse to you all, most notably you and Ron, who it seemed to effect the most.

Ron had become jealous and volatile as the months grew on, each and every time he would wear the repugnant locket. He obsessed over the radio he carried, listening with rapt attention to see if anyone of his family was listed amongst the missing or dead and would watch Harry and Hermione interact with a compulsive need, his jealousy and all consuming anger only creating a further rift amongst you all.

You had taken to the locket poorly, or rather the locket had taken poorly to you, finding that it seemed to attack the raw emotions inside of you, the grief and the longing, the doubts, like a dementor continually pulling at your bare soul. To pass the time, you had begun researching curses and the ability to heal after one had been stricken. Cursed limbs could not be restored, but there must have been something you could do, something that would make George return to normal again, so that he would love you once more. Restoring his ear in any way you could would make George love you again, it had to. It slowly sank into a desperate need for answers and accompanied by the locket's cruel effects, became an obsession that forced you to look into sheer darkness, dark magic and ancient methods that were outlawed for their questionable morality suddenly became interesting evidence that something could be done, no matter the price. There were two pieces of compelling evidence which led you to believe that you were on to something; one, that Severus had invented the curse and it had not been sanctioned nor recognised officially, therefore it could not be classified along with the other known curses and may be exempt from the rules. Secondly, that Voldemort had potentially been hit by the rebounded killing curse, if not the ancient magic of Lily's protection and he had managed to restore himself to strength. Harry had told you in great detail exactly what happened in the graveyard that night for Voldemort to restore himself and this only furthered your obsession, though you hid it well from the others, researching as you sat on watch, guarding you all from the ever-present threat.

The months you'd been gone had been filled with camping out in the cold wilderness, flitting from place to place, foraging for food and water, hiding from the ever present threat of death eaters and learning to live without the two men you loved most in the world.

Then came the haunting memory of Christmas Eve in Godric's Hollow and the events that followed with Nagini inhabiting the deceased Bathilda Bagshot's body, the memories of that night still giving you night terrors and leaving lingering effects on your mind, the trauma imprinted upon you. The day had been one of absolutely agony for you already, feeling the full effect of being away from your boyfriends, missing them with a devastating desperation, feeling near the end of your nerve, towing the line between doing the right thing and persevering or returning home to them. Seeing the twinkling Christmas lights, hearing the carols being sung by a choir only hurt you more, knowing this would be the first Christmas you would be away from almost everyone you loved.

During the attack, you'd been severely injured in the skirmish, bitten by Nagini on the shoulder as you leapt to Harry's defence upstairs having discovered the blood and decay in the room downstairs, the sickening sight and the smell of the room still lingering in your mind months on, turning your stomach at the very thought. Nagini had kept it's fangs lodged deep into your shoulder as you were dragged down the hole in the stairs during the skirmish, wrapped tightly in the giant trunk of their body, the fangs ripping at your skin and tail thrashing onto you as you fell. You'd only just broken free from Nagini's hold when Hermione cast the Blasting curse which had no doubt saved your life and had managed to co-apparate with you to safety just before Voldemort arrived.

Antidotes and dittany had done nothing as you writhed in sheer agony, your pale, sweat covered skin burning from the inside out. The skin around the bite was quickly turning black and burned with an intensity even fiendfyre couldn't replicate. After numerous hours of Hermione frantically trying to rid you of your torment did you make the decision to manually extract the venom, an archaic method of healing that was dangerous in the best of circumstances, something you'd only read about in restricted apothecary books.

Using one of the empty vials you kept in your bag, you instructed Harry to manually smash it so that it was only half the length, sharp sharps of glass where it had broken creating a serrated edge. The glass tube was inserted into the enflamed wound to create a vacuum, making you scream in complete agony. An incantation like charm needed to be performed repeatedly with precision, demanding intense concentration and a steady hand. Hermione had tried over and over, as had Harry, but nothing happened.

"Think of Fred and George, they need you," Harry had said through misted eyes, rubbing tears away with his sleeve, trying desperately to place your wand into your trembling, blood soaked hand.

Hermione was crying both out of desperation to heal you and devastation that she was unable to perform the extraction herself as you closed your eyes to focus, trying your hardest to ignore the pain and centre yourself, just as you had that night with George.

You thought of Fred, his boisterous laugh and wicked grin, his passionate kisses and his lingering touches. You thought of George and his slow, sweet kisses that could calm you and rile you up all with one meaningful peck, his shy smile and his sweet, autumny smell that comforted you like no other. Only when you'd centered yourself did you move your wand to point at the ruptured, nausea-inducing wound and began to carry out the incantation. You repeated it over and over, each time getting stronger as you forced yourself to think of your boyfriends, of the good times and the memories. Your thoughts surrounded you like fog, taking over everyone of your senses until it was all you could think of, the pain either lessening or just becoming less prominent as you watched the wound drain.

Black, almost iridescent liquid flowed into the vial slowly, gathering together in a move that defied gravity as it permeated out of your skin in droplets. The skin around the wound was slowly turning back to its usual hue, if not just more aggressively sore looking as every bit of venom drained out from your shoulder. When no more venom came out, you stopped the incantation and almost immediately collapsed onto the floor, losing consciousness out of sheer exhaustion and pain. When you came to a little while later, Hermione had wrapped up your wound and had cast a myriad of pain relieving spells in the hope that your excruciating discomfort would come to an end.

"Well it's safe to assume that the snake is definitely a Horcrux too," you'd muttered weakly, accepting a drink of water into your trembling hands from Harry who also looked rather traumatised by the whole ordeal. You'd have a gnarly scar, even with the use of dittany. The healing only went so far and nothing you did would make it close up completely, the jagged, prominent scars still red and painful, a fluctuating mixture between aching and burning under the wound on the worser days. You'd kept the venom in a fresh vial, storing it for purposes you couldn't explain, perhaps it could be used to restore George. This little fact, you kept hidden from the others.

Ron had returned not too long after that, finding his way back to you all using the deluminator that Dumbledore had gifted him, making you realise that your own gift must be his way of telling you something, though you could never work out what he intended for it.

You'd studied your gift countless times, repeating the curious words that magically engraved themselves across the black device, the very words that didn't make any sense to you no matter how long you studied them. You'd not even noticed the words in the beginning but had found out later that the words only appeared when you thought of a happy memory. Purely by coincidence, you'd noticed a pattern in when they would appear, experimenting on the others to test your theory and eventually received the same results.

"Maybe Dumbledore expected you to be unhappy if you joined us, knowing you'd be away from Fred and George. Maybe it's his way of telling you to stay positive," Ron said late one night, both of you sat outside the tent on watch. "I reckon he knew I'd leave and need to find my way back." You sighed, not finding his excuse plausible. Surely it had to be more than that. You closed your eyes and thought of the Yule ball, dancing with Fred and George, both of them intercepting the other trying to steal you back and forth as you were dragged and lifted like a rag doll between the boisterous pair. You opened your eyes, keeping the memory alive in your mind as you watched the words appear on the lebetum.

Expecto Dominum Meum

"Hermione," you called out, into the tent, hearing her rustle towards you. "Do you have anything about Latin in your books?"

"Oh, um, no I don't think I have," she says with a frown, cataloging her inventory in her mind as if she could mentally picture each book and it's contents.

"Is it a spell?" Ron says, looking at the words.

You shook your head, "I tried that. Maybe if we could translate it?"

The night drew on and you kept watch, feeling far too frustrated by the complex device in your mind that you couldn't sleep even if you wanted to, the answer so close it was niggling at you. Everyone else had gone to sleep and the night was still in a calming way, leaving you completely to your thoughts.

You pulled out your wand, trying something new and closed your eyes, conjuring up a strong memory of Fred and George. The first time they told you they loved you. Opening your eyes you fixed your gaze upon the lebetum and spoke the words clearly.

"Expecto Dominum Meum!"

Nothing happened. Until you looked at the lebetum.

Inside the frosted glass was a moving spirit like image, like a ghost moving through mist or fog, slowly becoming clearer with each second. A doe. Was it a patronus? Trapped inside the lebetum? It wasn't yours, your patronus was a Weasel, an ironic twist you'd discovered in your later years of education with Dumbledore's Army.

The doe turned to look directly towards you, as if it was really seeing you, looking expectantly at your face.

You repeated the words in a spell like manner but nothing happened.

"Expecto Patronum!" You called, still thinking of Fred and George, trying everything you could.

Immediately a blinding white light lit up out of your wand and brandished itself into a weasel, running around and illuminating the dark sky. Your eyes widened when the doe deer appeared beside your Weasel, dancing around eachother. But then the deer began to slowly walk away, casting a singular glance back towards you as if gesturing for you to follow. You immediately called out for Ron and Harry and that is exactly how you discovered the sword of Gryffindor trapped in the ice, which in turn, allowed Ron to finally destroy the locket.

After that came the Lovegood house and the outlandish mess that lead you straight into the arms of a pack of snatchers, including Fenrir Greyback, who took you to Malfoy Manor, the house of horrors as it turned out. Bellatrix had held nothing back as she tortured you and Hermione, trying to drag information out of you both, though Hermione endured more and worse punishment than you due to her blood status. You'd been beaten, sliced with a dagger and forced to endure the cruciatus curse as Fenrir prowled around you menacingly, waiting for his chance to take a bite out of you any chance he could. Only when you were thrown back into the dungeon below with Ron, Harry, Luna, Ollivander and Griphook, did you begin to cry, not allowing your abusers to see you break down.

You wanted Fred and George, you needed them desperately. You pulled out your lebetum, having concealed it in your jacket pocket upon your arrival at Malfoy Manor and tried your hardest to focus on something happy, though it was hard to focus through the pain and anguish. You thought of the three of you at the lake beside the Burrow; the first summer you were officially together, a summer full of kisses, pranks and laughter.

A thought occurred to you and you weakly walked over to Mr Ollivander, hoping he might have an answer, knowing he was a well studied man. He was weak and frail, looking older than ever through his torment.

"Mr Ollivander, do you speak Latin?" Talking was hard as blood filled your mouth, the evidence of Bellatrix's abuse so clearly displayed across your face. He gives a little weak nod, his eyes filled with sorrow as he looks at your bruised and swollen lip. "Could you translate this for me, please?"

You hold out the lebetum for him to take and sense Harry and Ron moving closer, trying to listen in to the quiet conversation.

"You were professor Snape's potions assistant were you not? I recognise you from Diagon Alley," he says with a squint. You nod, trying not to wince at the sudden pain shooting through your head at the movement.

"Yes sir," you confirm, suddenly feeling very conflicted by the information, "my boyfriends own the joke shop there." He makes a noise of understanding, as if he pieces all the information together before looking down at the Lebetum.

"What is this?" He asks curiously, rolling the item in his hand as he inspects it.

"A lebetum, Dumbledore bequeathed it to me in his will," you explain, sounding not so sure yourself. He lets out a chuckle at your words and you frown, consfused by his reaction.

"Expecto Dominum Meum," he says wistfully, "I await my master."

You stood in silence, more confused than ever.

"Are you sure?" Harry asks from behind you, evidently as confused by the translation. Ollivander thankfully takes no offence to Harry's question and simply nods, his eyes glancing over the words once more.

Later, you and Harry whisper amongst yourselves, trying to figure out what it meant as Ron clings to the bars, desperately looking up the stairs to catch sight of Hermione after everything had gone quiet, her screams ceasing.

"Your master is a doe?" He asks, thinking of the patronus that had burst out of the lebetum that night.

"Yes but my patronus is a Weasel, it doesn't make sense."

"It's risky but we could summon the patronus doe again, of course they'd see the light though."

"You're Kreacher's master, do you think it would summon him if you did it?" You ask quietly, taking the words written on the device literally, though you fear you already know the answer. Harry shakes his head, knowing it was too dangerous. Kreacher may have come around to you all eventually but he was still loyal to the Black family so it was a risk you couldn't take.

"It led us to the sword, it might lead us out, like a guide," he whispers and you nod along, thinking the same thing.

You close your eyes and dive deep into your mind, thinking of your happiest memories of the twins and recite the words. Sure enough, the doe's face appears in the frosted glass.

"Expecto patronum!" You say, trying to remain quiet but speak clearly.

Any hope you had crashes down around you the second no light shines from the lebetum, the spirit like image of the doe seeming to walk away into the distance. You turn to Harry and sigh in defeat, sinking lower into the cold ground as despair overcomes you.

You'd managed to escape Malfoy Manor by the skin of your teeth when Dobby had arrived only minutes later in a heroic and spectacular manner. As you all disapparated away to the safe house, Dobby was fatally wounded and died in Harry's arms from the blade that Bellatrix had thrown. Just before his death, Dobby had informed you in a weak voice that his boss was right, Harry Potter and his friends needed Dobby's help. He died amongst friends in Harry's arms and you'd all laid him to rest in the beautiful beach at Shell Cottage and planned to make him a fitting gravestone out of the large rocks.

Seeing Bill was like finding a freshwater stream in the desert. You supposed it was the familiarity of him, or maybe his familiar red hair that set you off but the moment you saw him, you flung yourself into his arms heaving out a sob. He seemed to immediately understand, and pulled you in to him, holding you tight until you were ready to pull away. His face contorted in displeasure as he looked at your beaten, swollen face and the cut across your cheek and then turned to the rest of the group with equally sorrowful glances. Fleur embraced you delicately but with a conviction that you'd never felt before, which you assumed was deep rooted.

Ollivander and Griphook had been immediately tended to as Bill prepared a hot meal for you all, delicious vegetable soup and warm bread, a far cry away from the pitiful meals you'd been eating on the run. You and Fleur had helped tend to Hermione's wounds, most notably the 'mudblood' script that had been carved into her arm. It would undoubtedly scar but with the help of dittany and a mixture of potions you had left, the pain would stop and there'd be no chance of infection. Fleur had then turned to you but you refused any help, preferring instead to go lay down for a while.

The room was simply decorated with nautical flares and the large springy mattress and soft sheets felt like heaven on earth as you rested your head, months of exhaustion and pain seeping out of you as you finally allowed yourself to let your guard down and relax.

You'd been awake for a few minutes, staring mindlessly out of the window from the bed and clutching hold of the jumper you'd stolen from the twins which you'd taken to using as a makeshift blanket. The jumper had long since stopped smelling like them but the soft woolly texture was familiar and comforting all the same as you picked at the stitching, feeling vulnerable and overwhelmed, especially now you were safe. A gentle knock sounded out, alerting you to someone at the door and after a few moments of silence, the door crept open to reveal Bill. He'd brought a small tin bowl filled with water which looked like a muggle shaving accessory and placed it on the bed beside you, armed with cotton balls.

"I know, I was the same," he says, taking a seat upon the bed beside you, gesturing to his own facial scars. "Didn't want anyone to see them, thought I could do it myself." You understood why he was saying this, and the meaning behind it and reluctantly nodded, allowing him to help you as you sat up a little straighter in bed.

The elephant in the room was all consuming and it felt like you both knew exactly what was causing the tension but neither of you knowing how to stop it or what to say, the common denominators between you not yet mentioned. Bill takes one look at the jumper in your hands, then to you and smiles softly, dipping the cotton ball in water before bringing it to your left eyebrow.

"They're okay," he says quietly, concentrating on removing the dried blood from your face. "They understand why you had to go." Your eyes flick down to look at your lap, guilt consuming you anew. "They're lost without you but they keep themselves busy with Potterwatch, Fred mostly."

You remembered connecting to the Wizarding Wireless Network some months ago and finding enormous comfort in hearing Lee's familiar voice through the crackling signal. When Fred's voice rang through the speaker after Lee announcing the next segment of news of the chief death eater, you thought you were hallucinating. You'd checked to see that you weren't holding the locket, like it would play a cruel trick on you like that but it was real, not just in your mind. You'd laughed and cried in utter joy at hearing his smooth voice again and as soon as it disappeared and moved on to the next segment announced by Lee, you'd sobbed in utter misery right through the night. Your obsession with the radio after that matched Ron's, desperate to hear Fred's voice again but by the time you'd moved on, you could never connect to it again.

"They're worried about you, we all have been. Mum's a wreck most days, dad acts strong for everyone but you can see it in his eyes. Ginny's reckless, though I'd wager she's more worried for Harry than Ron," he says with a huff, reaching fir a new cotton ball, "and the twins, they just want you back."

"Even George?" You ask timidly, voice cracking a little as you think of how you left things between you.

"Especially George," he says with a determine shake of his head, "they don't tell me much but you can see it in him, especially when you first left, he looked devastated, guilty even." You wince at Bill's word and he suddenly realises he might have said too much.

"Sorry, older brother, tendency to overstep," he jokes with a smile.

"They can't know I'm here, not yet," you say, though it pains you to do so. He nods in understanding. That was something you admired about Bill, he was a man of his word and didn't question things further when it was unnecessary, a stark contrast to his mother.

He then pulls out his wand and mutters a spell that causes you to gasp, feeling your swollen lip contracting though the pain only lasts a second.

"That's probably going to scar," Bill says hesitantly, looking at the slash across your cheekbone. You nod, already accepting your fate. "Is there anything else?"

You quickly shake your head, not quite feeling strong enough to talk yet. He looks at you for a moment and you can tell he's not convinced, causing you to sigh.

"Can you numb something for me?" You ask reluctantly, trying to avoid eye contact as you sit embarrassed by what he was going to see. He nods and his gaze flicks across you like he's trying to work out what you're asking of him.

You bring your arm up delicately, the wound still tender even so far on, the broken skin and muscles never healing right. It caused you pain daily, especially when it was cold and as hard as you tried you could never complete a numbing spell on the right area. Slipping out of your jumper, you winced as your arm bent a little too far for comfort. You unbuttoned one of the front buttons on your long sleeve T-shirt and began to peel the collar away from your neck, slowly exposing your disgusting shoulder to him.

You watched as his face contorted into something you couldn't register, expecting disgust or revulsion but instead his look was tender and tormented. You slid your bra strap down, careful not to expose anything you didn't want your boyfriends' brother to see and allowed him to look at the raised, jagged marks on your shoulder that hadn't healed nearly as much as it should have.

"How?" Bill asks quietly, his eyes fixated on the wound.

"Voldemort's snake," you said, trying not to relieve the memory of that night, knowing you wouldn't sleep that night if you did. He doesn't say anything else but simply points his wand at your shoulder and completes a strong numbing spell, right on the spot that burns the most.

"You're the toughest witch I know," he says with a prideful chuckle, replacing his wand back into his pocket. You huff out a laugh with a shake of your head, covering yourself back up. Bill helps you put your jumper back on and remains standing as he incinerates the blood soaked cotton balls. "I'll bring you some tea, get some more rest tough girl."

"Bill," you say, stopping him from walking out. He turns to you in question and you quickly add, "thank you."

"You're family," he says, as if he's staying an obvious fact before giving you a tight lipped smile and walking out the door.

After resting up at Shell Cottage for quite some time, giving Hermione plenty of time to work through her trauma, a plan had been made to break into Bellatrix's vault at Gringotts after she'd unwittingly stated to Griphook that there was a prized possession in her vault, which you all knew was most likely a Horcrux.

The Gringotts plan was dangerous to another level, more so than infiltrating the ministry as the world seemed to have changed in the space you'd been gone, the threat and danger increasing tenfold as the death eaters claimed more and more supporters out of fear. You'd painstakingly brewed a batch of Polyjuice Potion during your time at Shell Cottage, along with a few other potions you might need to replace your inventory that had been used whilst you'd been away. The plan had been doomed from the very beginning, with Griphook being an unreliable ally, Polyjuice, Imperius curses, Flagrante and Gemino protection curses and a previously unknown and unplanned for Dragon guarding the lower vaults.

Thanks to Hermione's quick but insane thinking, you'd all managed to escape on the back of the half blind and antagonised dragon with Hufflepuff's cursed cup in your possession.

Your new destination was secured the moment you all dragged yourselves out of the freezing cold water after dismounting the dragon. Harry'd had a vision about the location of the next Horcrux, a suspicion we'd had all along that Voldemort had hidden a part of his soul in the castle.

You were going back to Hogwarts.

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #george weasley #george weasley x you #weasley twins x reader #george weasley x reader x fred weasley #george weasley smut #george weasley x reader #weasley twins masterlist #weasley twins x you

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heylittleriotact · 7 months ago

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Rook Questionnaire

inspired by @cassieuncaged's BG3 Character Development Questions but for Rook instead!

@emmg tagged me in this, so here you are - thanks for making me think about a lot of these because I hadn't considered them 😅

Answers under the cut due to length (teehee)

1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from?

Nevarra, probably.

2: What is your character's alignment?

I entered Amina’s answers into an online quiz just for shits and giggles knowing full well that my Lawful Good girl would make Steve Rogers look like a knuckle-dragging thug with the moral fibre of a used car salesman.

3: Race and subclass?

Elf, Reaper

4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?

Probably in a cemetery in a small town on the continent trying to put a wayward spirit to rest. Or at an extremely expensive boutique hotel in Orlais (she got a discount for offering to stay in the allegedly haunted room).

5: What emotion did they usually pick?

Positive/optimistic with the occasional purple choice. She reads the room and doesn’t act overly familiar with people she doesn’t know well.

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

She becomes quite close with Bellara. Amina admires her optimism and passion for life despite her own regrets and hang-ups. Her excited, keyed up energy compliments Amina’s manic border collie energy and somehow their energies sort of like… harmonize and cancel each other out. It’s really wholesome. Like you know how they sometimes assign dogs to cheetahs so they don’t get too stressed out and die? That’s basically the vibe with Amina and Bellara, except they both think they’re the dog and not the cheetah.

7: Romantically close with?

She is romantically VERY close with Emmrich. In fact they get married and live happily ever after, and enjoy an adventurous sex life, and have exactly one (1) child.

8: Who are they suspicious of?

She tends to give the majority of people she encounters the benefit of the doubt, but is inherently wary of anyone who telegraphs any indication that they see spirits as lesser/tools/pests/evil because she fundamentally doesn’t understand why anyone would treat a spirit differently than a person.

She’s not sure what to make of people who treat their families poorly/disrespectfully. She understands that there are all sorts of dynamics out there, and not all family relationships are good, but she would give her left kidney to have a petty argument with her mother, or have her dad question her life choices. She’d much rather take the hardships that come with family than her reality where she has none.

9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?

For the most part. She’s extremely dedicated and passionate about her work, and she takes her oath to protect the living and the dead very seriously. She’s well-principled, disciplined, and is above corruption and political machinations. She’s very approachable, however, and has a knack for getting people to like her - even the ones that initially don’t.

Obviously some people are of the mind that she’s an inflexible hard-ass, but she truly believes that rules exist for a reason and order is infinitely better than chaos. If someone chooses not to like her for that fact, she doesn’t take it personally: she let go of people-pleasing years ago.

Varric always thought she and Aveline would have been fast friends.

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

She taught herself to play the lute when she was 14 because she thought people would be more keen on being friends with her if she knew an instrument. It didn’t help much, but she can still play a little if she feels inclined.

11: Weapon of choice?

Sword n board baybeeee.

12: What is their orientation?

Pansexual.

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

She doesn’t love it, and will actively exhaust every other option before entertaining it as a solution. If she’s decided she’s out of options and killing you is the only one left, better kiss your ass goodbye though, because if she’s decided the only solution ends with your death, you’re absolutely going to die very soon.

14: What hobbies does your Rook have?

Shopping. Fashion. Sewing - if she didn’t end up with the Mourn Watch she would have pursued becoming a clothing designer/tailor. If she ever did decide to permanently step back from the Watch I could see her opening a quaint, bespoke lingerie shop or something.

15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?

She pretty much likes everybody until they give her a reason not to, and even then she doesn’t take it personally. The First Warden really wore on her because his willful ignorance was actively endangering other people, so she wasn’t keen on him for that, but she also knew he was just another poor bastard trying to do his job and yeah sure he’s an idiot, but he’s not a malicious idiot.

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?

Wisps hold a special place in her heart. She makes no secret of the fact that she wants a dog/mabari after she moves in with Emmrich, and when he says that the Necropolis apartments are no place for a pet, she reminds him every moment she gets a chance (in writing, via three separate students, and on one occasion in the form of a corpse who recited her wishes as a limerick) that he also owns a sprawling estate on the outskirts of the city with OODLES of room for a dog. Why, they could get a whole kennel of them and a dog would be such a lovely way to teach Manfred about caring for other creatures…

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

Yes and no. She’s grateful that she can be a force for good in the world, but the danger and uncertainty of it tends to wear on her especially after she and Emmrich get together. Life as a Watcher is dangerous enough as it is - what kind of crazy person actively seeks MORE of it when they have someone waiting for them at home?

Emmrich actually forces Amina to stop for a minute and consider her mortality and her legacy. She thought she didn’t matter before. That her life would be a blip in time: inconsequential and certainly not worth mourning when she dies, but he seems devoted to showing her that’s not the case at all.

18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?

The Thedosian equivalent of being a Ghostbuster lol.

19: How do you think they'll meet their end?

Oh she will die old and comfortable in bed, with her family beside her and a smile on her lips as she announces that she’s off to be reunited with her sweetheart. It’s all happy endings here.

20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?

After the ritual, she wanted to see Varric’s goal through: she wanted to finish what her friend started and make Solas see that he didn’t have to do what he was planning to do. When Solas’ spiritual origins were revealed, she felt further compelled to help him see reason: no longer was he just a man burdened by guilt and regret, but a spirit dealing with them, and it was her sacred duty to help spirits whenever and however she could. In this case, she saw her responsibility change from “stop a foolish man from ruining the world” to “aid a tormented spirit."

That said, after the truth of what happened at the ritual site became clear, she was livid. She felt hurt, tricked, and as though her own kindness and tendency to believe in the best of people had been used against her. Her own grief was used against her in a cruel trick. She questions if Solas can actually be reasoned with anymore, and has about hit that point I mentioned earlier where she starts to see death as the only remaining option. Emmrich is the one to talk her out of this, urging her to remember her oath as a Watcher and encouraging her to not give up hope.

So Solas really has Emmrich to thank for happily ever after with his vhenan because Amina was 10000% done with his shit.

21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?

The thing with the big spectral scythe always feels extremely badass no matter how many times she does it.

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

Common, Nevarran, Orlesian, and Tevene. She knows conversational Antivan and next to no elven despite her ancestry. It’s important for Watchers to be fluent in many languages, as the dead tend to be quite chatty, and the spirits that reside in the Necropolis can’t all be assumed to speak Common.

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?

Keep finding things to do. If she sits still for too long it’ll all catch up with her at once and become overwhelming, but if she keeps finding people to help and helping them, she can put it off indefinitely. This has led to burnout in the past, and without someone like Emmrich around to basically force her to deal with things rather than burying them under work, it would happen again.

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

She thinks that anyone who says they have a definitive answer to that question is lying. There are so many things about magic, the Fade, spirits, and the soul that aren’t known or understood, but she has witnessed enough evidence that she feels confident in some sort of continuation of a person’s essence beyond the veil of death. What that ultimately looks like/entails is a mystery, but she finds comfort in not knowing every detail. It would be anticlimactic to set out on that next Big Adventure if everything was spelled out in advance.

25: What specialization best represents your Rook?

She is the Reaper-est Reaper who ever Reaper-ed. She’s capable of keeping up with the insane physical demands of the work, but also possesses the compassion, empathy, and patience that make a good Watcher. She loves caring for the living and the dead, and approaches her work enthusiastically. Also, she’s just kind of… odd. A trait that many Mourn Watchers possess.

26: What animal best represents your Rook?

Border collie. Needs purpose. Needs activities. Needs to be contributing in a meaningful way. Otherwise will get severely stressed out and die, probably.

27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?

Amina was having a crisis of belonging before Veilguard. She’s questioning her purpose and place in the world after being soft-exiled from the Necropolis and is just kind of drifting from place to place and doing the only thing that she knows, which is Watcher work, but the people she’s helping aren’t exactly tripping over themselves to thank her for any assistance she renders because of the inaccurate assumptions most make about the mortalitasi.

She’s not in a great place. She’s struggled to feel like she belongs anywhere her entire life because of her start as a foundling, and by the time she meets Varric she’s largely of the mind that she’s a burden that people simply tolerate out of politeness and moral virtue. But Varric… he really seems to like her. Care about her even. The more time she spends with him, the more she starts to think that she’s not just a receptacle for pity and charity, and that maybe she actually deserves to connect with people.

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

Amina has zero qualms with taking charge of a group of people and telling them what to do… especially if it keeps them alive in a dangerous situation.

29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?

I think her sense of honour and duty would have made her an excellent Grey Warden. She’s got too much of a conscience to be in the Lords of Fortune or Antivan Crows.

30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?

She has this quiet, understated strength about her that could easily be mistaken for shyness or passivity, but she’s actually just so humble and kind and good that she tries to make herself as approachable as she can, even with her scarred face, somewhat crooked fingers, and the tip of one of her ears missing. She wants to be someone that people can trust during their darkest times, and if given the chance will unequivocally prove herself to be that person. She is literally a knight in shining armor with a pure heart and so, so, so much love to give.

#dragon age #rook questionnaire #rook #mourn watch rook #mourn watch #rook ingellvar #amina ingellvar #emmrook #emmrich x rook #emmrich x ingellvar #she's so pure and sweet and I love her dearly

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onebizarrekai · 10 months ago

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Fic Author Interview

I've been tagged by @unmaskedcardinal! been a while since I talked about any of this stuff, particularly as a very inconsistent fic poster haha

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

the visible number linked to my account is currently 60, no idea if this is counting the bizarre saga from my archive account or not. technically I've posted more, but they aren't part of that number.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

567,314.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

ibvs season 1 & season 2 are (thankfully) the top two on my account, considering they're… well. ibvs.

number 3 is formal humiliation, a utmv fic back in 2019 where I wrote 3 oneshots all with different pairs surrounding the same idea. it's uh, it's something.

4 is behave, a saiouma despair disease fic I wrote sort of ironically in 2020. I did not realize this weird oneshot would be the thing that jumpstarted my kage obsession.

5, for some reason, is glow, a ds fic I wrote in 2019. I do not know why this is the ds fic with the most kudos. I am just really glad that it's not one of the ones I wrote in 2018.

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

lately I have been trying to respond to more comments, if they're on a recent enough story and I can think of a way to answer.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

most of the fics I've written right now have been Random Spot In Time fics with no articulate ending, but game over is pretty edgy. I think. I've written a similarly edgy ending but it's in an anonymous fic. it occurs to me that edgy doesn't necessarily mean angst, but it can.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

somehow everyone lived happily ever after in the bizarre saga, no f'ing idea how they managed that

7. Do you write crossovers?

I have. I have as comedies. I tend to take a bunch of guys and put them in a new setting that they definitely shouldn't be in. poopenster high is an example of this, but none of that has ever touched the internet and I haven't touched it in like 2 years.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

oh my god like. maybe once? maybe? I don't even think it counted as hate. I think like several years ago some rando complained that season 2 of ibvs was trying too hard to be funny. I barely remember what it actually said, I just remember it being annoying.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

when I was in my v3 phase I wrote some, I think "feelings with smut" describes most of it decently. the nature of the kcu meant it was like, almost all trippy.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I dunno. I hope not. I think I've had people repost stuff without permission.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

probably?? when I was a teen I had people say they wanted to translate my utmv fics, I don't know which ones actually followed through anymore.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

(sigh) yes.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

oh god, I think I honestly just phase around stuff. I don't think I've ever permanently latched onto a pair, it's just that I've had fandoms and I have pairs that I've ended up liking in them and they just sort of stay that way even if stop paying attention to the fandom. I like most ships that happens to fit into my favorite criteria (that being protagonist/morally ambiguous deuteragonist or antagonist). if you asked me what my favorite series is, it would be an easier question. it's zelda. but I don't really have any permanent favorite ships in zelda.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

this is a scary question because I have a number of major wips that I want to get back into once I get back into writing and I refuse to accept that they may not get finished. I don't know. moose hill? for a little while I wanted to see if I could come up with a whole side story, but it is extremely unlikely that will happen. maybe a better example is a continuation of shuichi and kage's blackout adventure, which is pretty low on the priority list for if my brain every gets infected by danganronpa again.

15. What are your writing strengths?

the jokes are very important. I put my heart and soul into them. I hope that people can see my vision when I tell them.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

actually doing the writing getting from point A to point B. I come up with this whole outline and realize there's 2000 words of empty space that needs to happen. and it's like dull shit, too. just plain old events. like look at them, it's the lunching hours again. because lunch is a thing that happens every day. is it redundant to have lunch too many times? it can't possibly! it's the only time they can talk to each other! do I need to pan the camera again because this 3 sentence exchange has dragged on for too long? help

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

makes sense to me. or like, depends on the context. if the POV is a character who can speak the language, the reader should probably get to know what they're saying (think like, subtitled sections of a movie), unless it's really easy to decipher. but if the POV can't understand it, the reader shouldn't necessarily know. it gets more complicated if it takes place in a setting where they should logically be speaking a language that is not english for example. like, if they're in a country where they are not speaking english but the fic is in english. it wouldn't really make sense to insert interjections in their home language because they're not speaking english in the first place. I guess it all depends on what you're trying to convey.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

sonic. does it count. I started writing once I was old enough to type. but I think the first story I ever put online was zelda.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

on occasion I entertain the idea of writing for corpse party, but that's probably not going to happen.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I'm going to not include that one anonymous fic and my pile of unfinished longfic wips that I've been proud of in past years is way too big so… maybe game over?? it's complicated. I have a ton of comedy pieces that I love but they're just… not completed!!

[ feel free to fill this out yourself if you're a fic writer! ]

#random stuff #I've gotta locate some kind of motivational groove at some point. I guess #I have a lot of unfinished projects that I haven't finalized or posted any chapters of #because I'm always thinking 'something's going to need to change later' especially if there's an inconsistency down the line #or I just want to see if I can finish an entire thing before thinking about posting it #and I'm usually like 'ok but working on ibvs more important anyway'

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meitantei-shitpost · 1 year ago

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Detco m27 spoilers under the cut!!! ⚠️

So. I figured I would rant a little about the big reveal that’s been going around as I’ve already been spoiled. I’m not a huge kaishin shipper although I did do a big bang event a while back. But to anyone who does ship kaishin, I’m begging you, please don’t delete your works.

Please don’t delete your fics, art, or blogs!!! They are precious works of art that you’ve worked so hard on. I don’t want to see any of it lost.

Detective Conan canon is ridiculous! If we cared about canon we wouldn’t be making all of this stuff in the first place. It’s been over 20 years and we’re suddenly supposed to accept this reveal? Hell nah. Make an AU where that shit did not happen and keep shipping it. It doesn’t matter and I imagine the fandom will already have some sort of AU tag ready that excludes movie 27 from canon (if movie 27 even ends up becoming canon).

Also, don’t bully anyone for still shipping kaishin! It doesn’t make you morally superior and it’s okay if people ship something you don’t like. Akemi and Akai dated and were cousins in canon so tbh it’s kinda par for the course in the franchise. Also in hannin no hanzawa hanzawa has a huge crush on his cousin. Idk what’s going on in this series anymore 💀

I’ve been on dcmk tumblr for about 7 years now and the fandom is honestly such a small, wholesome group. This is the first time we’ve had any real “drama” and I don’t want it to tear us apart. I hope that kaishin shippers keep doing what they’re doing regardless of whatever Gosho is cooking up.

(I also just think the whole situation is super funny. This truly is the fandom’s 9/11 I have been cackling at the absurdity. He really dropped that bomb after decades 😭😭)

#m27 spoilers #the million dollar pentagram #detective Conan movie 27 #movie 27 spoilers #detco spoilers #dcmk

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silver-bunnyspell · 6 months ago

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What you Deserve - MASTERLIST

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Summary:

Isidore Toller is an Inquisitor and his job consist in convicting sorcerers who use forbidden magic. He gave the capital punishment to the wrong mage and now his widower, Count R. J. Townsend, wants to make him pay for it.

Isidore gets kidnapped and during the story he will have to survive the Count, decide who to trust and come to terms with his past actions.

Behind those palace's walls there are other people subdued to the Count, some of them even willing to help him. All of them tightly tied to the Count's dark past.

Will they be able to overcome that hopeless situation?

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Main content warnings and Tags:

This story is 18+. Don't read if you're a minor please.

graphic depiction of violence, sexual themes (including explicit NSFW/Non-con)

The setting is fantasy! (every chapter will have personalized content warnings)

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Writing: If you want here's the link to AO3 too :)

Arc I

Main tags: kidnapping, captivity, graphic depictions of violence, sexual themes, hurt comfort Chapter 1. Bottom of the Barrel

Chapter 2. Dirty cleansing (part 1)

Chapter 3. Dirty cleansing (part 2)

Chapter 4. Golden Chains

Chapter 5. Riches to Rags (part 1)

Chapter 6. Riches to Rags (part 2)

Chapter 7. Playing the game

Chapter 8. Butterfly under a pin Chapter 9. Like bubbles from the Water

Chapter 10. Flicker

Chapter 11. Never look Behind

Chapter 12. Never look a gift horse in the mouth

Arc II

Main tags: captivity, lady whump, living weapon whumpee, sexual themes, graphic depictions of violence, hurt/comfort, Chapter 13. Guard Duty

Chapter 14. Early Spring Vacation

Chapter 15. Wild Boar and Wolf Taming

Chapter 16. Scarlet Flowers

Chapter 17. Make up for it

Chapter 18. Oleander Chapter 19. The Closest thing to Love

Arc III

Main tags: hurt/comfort, angst, captivity, sexual themes, graphic depictions of violence, moral degeneration

Chapter 20. Not Good Enough

Chapter 21. Asking for help

Chapter 22. Lower your Guard

Chapter 23. Horror on the Other Side

Chapter 24. Looking back, Looking for, Looking after

Chapter 25. Calm before the storm

Last update: 2025/06/30

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Art: Character art: Isidore Toller Wayne Nesta Count R.J. Townsend Hildegard (+ Nesta) Other art: Butterfly Under a Pin (Isidore + Townsend) Wolf Taming (Nesta + Hildegard) Isidore in chains!

#what you deserve - fanfiction #whump #oc whump #original writing #whump fanfiction #kidnapped whumpee #silver's writing corner #fantasy whump #kidnapping whump #trans whumpee #humiliation whump #WYD #living weapon whumpee #intimate whumper

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insomniaflarrow · 4 months ago

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20 Questions with a Fanfic Author

Thank you so much for the tag @lokimobius!! <3

1. How many works on AO3?

I have 7 so far! I've decided not to crosspost the majority of my old fics, because I'd have to do some insane rewrites to be happy with them.

2. Total AO3 Word Count?

128,483!! Considering the bulk of that is relatively recent writing, I'm happy with that!

3. Top 5 fics by Kudos

Coalescence (Loki, 251 kudos, 82k in-progress) Three hundred and fifty eight TVA cycles after Loki's unexplained disappearance into the Void with the timelines in tow, the universe begins to collapse.

Rubatosis (Loki, 121 kudos, 11k) Extracting Loki from the Loom is a success. But the experience dredges up memories of a similar event, and causes a slow but steady spiral into panic.

Nadir (Hannibal, 94 kudos, 19k) Still shaken from Baltimore, Will is thrust into the midst of a horrific new case: a killer targeting close to home. Struggling between clinging to personal morality and fighting new influences, he reaches his breaking point and, horrified by the aftermath, becomes desperate for emotional stability. Solace is found in the only person he knows understands.

Deicide (Loki, 56 kudos, 4k) Integrating into the TVA lifestyle doesn’t come easy to Loki. But when a mission goes awry, he’s forced to reconsider his shifting allegiance.

In which loving is living badly (Loki, 41 kudos, 3k) Time passes, or does not pass, and things change. Hostility melts into neutrality, which melts into begrudging acceptance, which melts into coopetition, and then there’s a terrible tumble into teamwork and understanding and far too close a unity to define as just liaison. It becomes different. They become different.

4. What fandoms do you write for?

Loki is my entire focus at the moment, but I don't doubt Hannibal will weave its way back in soon. Others I've publicly written for includes Star Wars, Star Trek TOS, LotR, and a very brief stint in OFMD. A lot of Good Omens on the backburner that I might get out there some day :D

5. Do you respond to comments?

Absolutely! It may just take me three thousand years because I find it insanely hard to convey my gratitude over text, which means I overthink replies lmao

6. Angstiest Ending?

Entirely unintentionally, I ended my collection of Aragorn and Legolas oneshots with Legolas dying in the Pelennor Fields. I thought I'd write more for that collection, but never did, so that ended up being the final chapter. rip Legolas.

Disregarding aforementioned fic, I do avoid entirely sad endings. I've definitely done some sad adjacent ones, but I'm a big fan of soft endings to otherwise angsty fics.

7. Fic with the Happiest Ending?

I don't think I have a fic with a spectacularly happy ending. Most of my endings tend to lean more towards bittersweet/neutral by default. Probably Rubatosis wins the award, just because it's got a whole load of sappy comfort at the end.

8. Do you get hate?

Since joining AO3, absolutely nothing! Everyone seems to be lovely, especially in my current fandoms. On the flip side, writing any queer-aligned content over on ffnet was a little bit more of a dangerous ground 💀

9. Do you write smut?

I don't tend to read or write smut, mainly because I read into Lokius as more of a qpr. I'm not sure if (or where) I sit on the asexual spectrum, but that probably has an effect too.

I actually really love themes that usually come alongside smut, but I tend to explore them through hurt/comfort instead. I always worry that my Lokius might come across a bit strange, because I like exploring smut-typical power and vulnerability in a h/c environment instead. But, hey, it's flavour ig.

(All that being said, my guilty pleasure is a specific breed of non-sexual kink, which is hard enough to find that I may end up writing my own someday 💀)

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not so much write, but back when I was a fanartist I did crossovers a hell of a lot! I did a bit of writing for my Star Wars x LotR art!

11. Ever had a fic stolen?

Thankfully I don't think so!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated

Not that I know of. I did personally try write in Spanish a few times, but my GCSE didn't really give me enough to go off 😭

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic?

Not in any way I remember! I think the closest I've done previously is some idea bouncing, and an old mutual writing some pieces for my aforementioned crossover. It's definitely something I've got more opportunity for now I'm on tumblr, which is absolutely lovely :D

14. All time favourite ship?

Genuinely don't think I have one, especially if we're considering ship in the romantic sense (of which I have remarkably few). There are too many that have changed my life to pick just one!

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My american gothic Hannibal fic 😔 It's by far the most devastating fic I've ever come up with, and crushingly romantic at the same time. I got about 40k into it before Loki S2 swooped in and knocked me off track.

To this day it's the only fic that I'm still just as excited about as the time I came up with it, so maybe I'll get it done one day!

16. Writing strengths?

I'm decently happy with my dialogue! It's something fairly natural to me. I like to think my character interactions are fairly realistic, mainly because I draw from irl for inspiration like 50% of the time.

17. Writing Weaknesses?

I think I have a very convoluted way of writing – and speaking, which I really hate 💀 The grammar rules in my head have all mutated and messed up the order I write in. I also want to work on my prose, as sometimes I feel I'm not as descriptive as I could be.

Plots are the bane of my life, and they make me so terribly nervous that they're unrealistic or silly. I've also never finished a fic above 20k, despite having fics in the 200k range. Ouch.

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

Thirteen year old me thought it was a good idea to put elvish in my LotR fics and just not translate it 💀 I read it back recently and was like... what.

I'm sure many people can do it very well!! I think context definitely can make it work.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

In terms of serious fic, Star Wars was the first fandom that got me doing properly. Before that it was early Marvel stories, which I scribbled into a notebook far before I knew fanfic was an actual thing.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

While I think I'm proudest of Coalescence, Rubatosis is probably my fave. It's the most self-indulgent I've got while writing and I think that worked massively in its favour.

No pressure tagging @blackbirdofasgard, @elodiah and @thosegayoldmen, plus open tag for anyone who wants to join! I'd love to see everyone's responses!

#i def went too in depth here but it was a good exercise #i'm a horrific yapper and online it's a constant battle to be quiet #my fic #fic writing

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