#writing fics about topics i never have the guts to read

[bilbosmom-belladonna]

I wrote this for @steddiesongfics' July challenge!

Also on AO3.

Make Me Weak

Length: 1000 words | Rating: T (for language) | CW: Infidelity, Eddie Munson/OFC | Tags: Future Fic, Rock Star Eddie Munson, Established Relationship, Eddie POV

The song is Lips of an Angel by Hinder (no one ever said it had to be a good song) and the included lyric is "Honey, why you calling me so late?"

Eddie stumbled in the front door laughing, his arm tight around Ally’s waist as she leaned on him, giggling.

“Okay, okay,” she gasped out, “you were right. Next time we’ll get a town car.”

Eddie grinned as they took off their jackets. “I told you.” He pulled her close to him, leaning down for a kiss that became filthy fast. He trailed kisses down her throat as she squirmed in his arms. “I believe I was promised something very fancy under this dress,” he muttered against her skin.

Ally hummed low. “Yup,” she agreed, “it’s a special occasion.”

Eddie lifted up his head to answer when the phone rang.

“Ugh, who’s calling at this hour?” Ally grumbled as Eddie let go of her to pick up the receiver.

“Hello?” he said, a little impatiently.

“Hey man, I need to borrow you for a minute,” Steve said on the other end.

Eddie frowned. “Can it wait? Not a good time,” he said, watching as Ally took off her heels and headed toward the bedroom.

“Nope, gotta be right now,” Steve replied firmly.

“Shit, okay, give me a second,” Eddie said. He pressed the hold button. “Gotta take this,” he called down the hallway. “I’m gonna be in my office. Five minutes, I promise!”

“It better be!” Ally called back. “Or I’ll get started without you!”

Eddie laughed and took the cordless phone with him into his office. He shut the door and—hesitating for just a second—locked it too. He transferred the call to his second line and sat down at his desk.

“Honey, why are you calling me so late?” he asked Steve.

“Like you weren’t awake,” Steve grumbled. He sounded a little off. “Come over.”

Eddie sighed. “I can’t,” he replied. “It’s our anniversary.”

“Oh, an anniversary?” Steve asked sarcastically. “This one made it a whole year, huh? That hasn’t happened in a while.”

Eddie didn’t answer, just rubbed his eyes tiredly. He fiddled with the three Grammy statues on the shelf above his desk, pushing them into a straighter line.

“What about our anniversary, huh?” Steve went on. He was slurring his words a little. “Twelve years! Beat that, Anna.”

Twelve years was a hell of a lot longer than any of Eddie’s other relationships had lasted. Maybe relationship wasn’t even the right word—they had started fucking sometime during the band’s first Midwest tour in 1988 and never really stopped.

“Our anniversary is next month,” Eddie said quietly. “I’m taking you to the Bahamas, remember?” He sighed again. “Are you drunk, baby?”

“So what if I am?” Steve said belligerently. “You’re not here, I can be drunk if I wanna.”

Eddie sat back in his chair. He was three years sober, his best stint to date; Steve had always been supportive, especially after Eddie had fallen off stage a few years ago. He didn’t drink when Eddie was with him, especially when they were out on tour. It made for quieter nights after the shows ended but they were getting into their 30s now anyway, partying hard had lost some of its appeal. And they could make a night-in pretty fun, just the two of them.

The nice thing about fucking your manager, Eddie had always thought, was that he could get them adjoining rooms when he booked the hotels

“I’m sorry I can’t be there tonight, sweetheart,” Eddie said into the phone. “But I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Maybe we can find time to get a hotel next week.”

“Oh, sure,” Steve sniped, “go back to your girlfriend, asshole.”

“Last I checked,” Eddie said, a little annoyed, “you had a girlfriend too.”

“Ha!” Steve cried. “Check again, dickhead,” he slurred.

Well, that explained it. “You and Michelle broke up?” Eddie asked.

“Fuckin’—yeah,” Steve grumbled. Eddie could hear glass clinking in the background. “We had a big fight after I got home last month and it never really ended.” He sighed, crackling through the phone line. “She was sick of me traveling so much.”

“You could have brought her on tour,” Eddie offered reluctantly.

“Fuck that,” Steve snapped back. “When the fuck would I ever see you if she was there?”

There was some rustling, then a clatter and Steve cursed distantly, far away from the phone. Eddie leaned his elbows on the desk and rubbed his free hand over the back of his head.

“Baby,” he said. More clattering on the other end. “Baby?”

“—eah, I’m here,” Steve finally said.

“I gotta go, honey,” Eddie said gently.

Steve made a pathetic noise. “I miss you,” he whined. “I hate being home.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie said. “I miss you too.”

“I love you,” Steve said. He sniffled a little.

Eddie closed his eyes. “I love you too, baby.” And he did. For all the ups and downs of the last twelve years, the fame and the travel, the girlfriends and the fights, the awards and the secrets, loving Steve had never been hard.

It was just never simple.

“Get some sleep, honey,” Eddie said softly. “Drink some water. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

Steve hummed and mumbled something, then there was a click and the dial tone. Eddie hung up the phone, stood up, and took a long, slow breath. He left his office and headed toward the bedroom.

“Sorry about that, gorgeous,” he said loudly as he approached. “Steve had some questions about tour dates.”

“That man works too hard,” Ally called from the bathroom. “You should send him on vacation.”

“That’s a great idea, babe,” Eddie said as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “But I don’t want to talk about Steve right now.”

“Mmm, me either,” Ally said as she exited the bathroom. She was wearing lingerie, a lacy red and black number that had Eddie’s fingers itching to get his hands all over her. “Happy anniversary,” Ally said, looping her arms around his neck and stepping in close.

Eddie smiled. “Happy anniversary,” he replied as he leaned down to kiss her.

[pellucid-constellations]

Fable - Before

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Being in love with Azriel wasn’t hard; you’d been doing it for over 400 years. But things were changing, and soon, you would be changed. 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Angst, pining

a/n: This is part of a mini-series but each part can be read on its own/out of order. I know I'm like attacking everyone with this random fic I just started but it's getting my writing muse going and it's exciting!! Enjoy :)

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

“Do you think that’s the best idea, Az?” you promoted, cringing a bit as you hid your face in the racks of clothing along the store’s edge. “I mean, Rhys seemed pretty adamant that you… I don’t know—not pursue her?”

Azriel tsked, pressing his hand to the middle of your back as he passed behind you. You turned your wings in. “Rhys doesn’t understand. He only understands the pull of the mating bond and nothing else. But Elain doesn’t want Lucien, I’m sure of it.” 

Something twisted in your gut. “Okay, I believe you. But what if—” 

“Please, y/n, something else now. My failure of a love life must bore you.” 

You bit into your lip as you contemplated ignoring his request. He had done nothing but speak of Elain since you started your outing this evening, but the moment you questioned the feasibility of his plans, the topic was suddenly moot. 

“I was just going to ask,” you broached, turning from the clothes to face the shadowsinger. A necklace display enthralled him. “What if you found your mate? What then?” 

Azriel broke his gaze with the jewels. “That wouldn’t matter. This is different, y/n. You must see that. Three sisters for three brothers. It’s as if it’s a test of fate.” 

“Right,” you nodded, fighting off the urge to throw up or scream. “Destiny, maybe.” 

Azriel’s responding grin did little to soothe you. “Exactly. I knew you would understand. You’ve always understood me.” 

You offered a weak smile, biting the inside of your cheek as he ushered you out of the store with a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

This was getting more and more difficult to tamp down. 

When Azriel first became enamored by Elain, you thought it temporary. He had been chasing after Mor for so long; that wouldn’t be trumped by a woman he just met. And you were used to the way he pined for Mor. It hurt, but it was familiar. 

Azriel never seemed to think he had a real chance with her. 

But with Elain—with Elain, he figured he had a fighting chance. He saw the success of his brothers and felt that this was his chance at happiness. He never looked at you the way he looked at her, and he had had so many opportunities to do so. 

He never spoke of you the way he spoke of her. 

This hurt more than it did with Mor.

But still, Azriel was your family, so you pretended that it didn’t. You sat back and listened as he spoke of his grand plans to court her and sneak past Rhysand. You tried your best to provide good input and smiled when you were supposed to. 

You loved him from afar. 

He loved you differently. 

It wasn’t his fault.

“Did Rhys ever say what he wanted to talk to you about?” Azriel asked after a short stint of silence, the sounds of your steps along the streets of Velaris rhythmic and soothing. 

You blinked and focused your attention back on Azriel. “Oh, um, some mission at the camps I think.” 

“Anything big?” 

“I don’t think so. A little unrest but I think he just wants me to make sure the women are training.” 

“Need me to come?” 

“I would, but I leave tomorrow night. Isn’t that when you—you know…” 

Azriel sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Oh, that’s right.” He tilted his head to the side, weighing his internal conflict. “I could try to move some things around. Elain could—” 

“No, Az, it’s fine,” you interrupted, trying to forget about the times he would restructure his entire schedule to accommodate you. “You have to be diligent with the times you see her. I can see if Cass can come with me.” 

“Are you sure?” he posed, the question twisting his brow. 

You looked up at him, examining each tell on his face. You’d known him so long you were sure you would never forget his face—never scrub your mind of the intricacies that told you of each emotion he felt. 

Many claimed that Azriel was hard to read. As a Spymaster, that was the goal. But you saw through it all. You’d seen him as a boy and you saw him now. 

There was something unfamiliar on his face as you looked at him now. 

“You really like her, don’t you?” The words hurt as they came out. 

Azriel breathed through a smile. 

“I like my chances this time.” He curled his finger beneath your chin in a playful tap. 

That sounded the same. 

~~

“You sure you don’t want me to come, sweetheart?” Cassian asked for the fourth time, the table between you filled with a plethora of distractions that you were all too grateful for. 

You darted your gaze to the side, eager to ensure that Azriel hadn’t heard the loudmouth in front of you. “Yes, Cass. Now quit it. I got it, okay?” 

Cassian sent the pair at the end of the table a perfunctory, almost irritated glance. “It’s a pretty hostile camp you’re headed into. I feel like you should bring backup.” 

“And I feel like you have four other camps to go to today. And a pregnant mate to tend to, no?” 

“Nesta would sooner bash me over the head with her books than let me coddle her. I’ve tried.”

“Well, just… linger around her, I don’t know. Just know that I’m fine and don’t need a babysitter.” 

From the other end of the table, Elain giggled, the sound light and airy. You snuck a glance out of the corner of your eye to find the shadows along the table retreating to the floor. A few had begun to creep towards you, but you shooed them away with a flick of your foot, wanting to keep the conversation away from Azriel’s ears. 

They listened to you—for the most part. 500 years of pestering them made them give a little. 

“Az can’t come?” Cassian asked, his mouth half filled with roasted potato. “He’s not on anything this week.” 

You raised your brow and stared back at the sheepish look the general offered, waiting for him to chew his breakfast before you replied. “He can’t. Spy business.” 

“Spy business.” Cassian deadpanned.

“Uh-huh.” 

Cassian’s skeptical look rivaled your chastising one. “This doesn’t need to go like this and you know that.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Right. I’ve only known you since we were twelve but I’m going to pretend that you aren’t covering for the one person you—” 

“Cassian.” 

“I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

“Why would she be getting hurt?” Azriel spoke up, his head finally turned from his near-permanent gaze on Elain. 

“I wouldn’t,” you cut in, speaking over the beginning of Cassian’s sentence. “You know how Cassian is, always worrying too much.”

“Is there something to worry about?” Elain asked, looking between the members of the table, her question sweet and ironic coming from her mouth. 

“No—” 

“Yes.” 

“No, there isn’t” you gritted out, throwing Cassian a look. The smile you sent to Elain took effort. “I’m just going on a routine mission, but you know how Illyrians are—overprotective to a fault.” 

Elain nodded and blushed with a soft gleam in her eye, and, Gods, you were reminded why you’d stopped eating breakfast at the House. You bit the inside of your cheek to fight the swell in your throat. 

“I thought Cassian was going to go with you,” Azriel questioned. “You said he could.” 

Cauldron, you really should have taken breakfast in your room. 

You tore your gaze from Elain’s shy expression and blinked at Azriel. He was sat up straighter, brows shot upwards in an accusatory fashion that made you feel that you were in trouble. When you took a moment to respond, he tilted his chin forward, ready to catch you in a lie. 

And you were an awful liar. 

When you were thirty, Azriel had to teach you how to lie to help stave away the men that came with emerging adulthood. That had been mortifying for many reasons, but mainly because he was having you lie about being his mate. Your feelings had become complicated around that time and Azriel did not seem to share the sentiment. 

But you could lie about this with ease. You had become a practiced liar over the years—when it came to hiding your feelings. 

“I-I got an update from Rhys. He said the camp is more settled. I’m only going to watch from afar. They won’t even know I’m there.” 

A lie—a fat lie. But Azriel should be happy. He should pursue Elain as he wanted. You shouldn't get in the way. You needed to get away from them, actually. 

You needed the space. 

You felt Cassian’s disappointed stare on the side of your face but ignored the hole it was burning into your skin. 

“He didn’t inform me of that,” Azriel muttered. He looked to Elain—sweet Elain with her soft eyes and gentle features—and contemplated his night once again. “I think I should come with you. Reports could be conflicting or fabricated.” 

And the way Elain deflated made you press your lips together in a line. Azriel sent her an apologetic, downturned smile and you gathered that he was apologizing for you. You would always be an apology for him, a responsibility. 

Your foot had been shaking under the table without you noticing it, but the moment Azriel’s eyes wandered to Elain, the motion abruptly stopped. You gathered your resolve, sent Cassian another warning glance, and looked back to the man who never saw you. 

“I don’t want you to come, Azriel. I’m bringing Lucien.” 

A low blow, but not one that was uncalled for. 

It had the effect you were hoping for, with both Azriel and Elain sending shocked expressions your way, the former affronted and the latter looking lost. 

“Lucien?” Azriel parroted. 

“Yes,”  you confirmed, taking a causal sip from the cup before you. “Rhys thought it would be good for him to see more than just Velaris and the mortal lands. I’m picking him up before I leave.” 

“And you think he would protect you if the Illyrians went rouge?” Azriel’s tone was bordering on aggressive, his question pointed towards Cassian. 

“The Illyrians are always rouge, Az. That’s kind of the point of all this,” you joked, but the joke didn’t land.

Tension at the table remained. Cassian wasn’t saying anything, his arms crossed and his eyes locked on yours. Your foot started shaking again. Elain, of all people, was the first one to speak. 

“Lucien would protect her,” she nodded, pushing her food around her plate. “He would. He’s… a good male.” 

That altered Azriel’s train of thought very evidently if one were able to pick apart the soft widening of his eyes and the slight twitch of his mouth. All things you caught so easily. 

All things that led him to agree that you should go with Lucien. All tells that made him refocus his attention on Elain and ignore the shallow breaths you let out when you lied.

Because you would be fine with Lucien. Maybe if you went with Lucien, one of Azriel’s suspected obstacles would be removed. Maybe Lucien would start to want you the same way he wanted Elain. 

Only, Lucien wasn’t going with you, and there would never be a time that a conversation like this would happen again. 

A different obstacle, for a different time. 

[thelov3lybookworm]

Hi! I really like your writing style, and

I would like to request an Azriel x reader fic, but you can ignore this if you don't feel comfortable with it. So, lately I've been having a few problems with an ED (anorexia nervosa), and I think that reading how Azriel would react and deal with reader struggling with it, would help me and comfort me in some way.

I repeat, if you don't feel comfortable with writing this, it's completely okay, you don't have to do it. Whatever your choice will be, thank you in advance! ❤

With her.

Summary: Azriel finds out his mate's relationship with food, and tries to convince her to see Madja.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: hello anon! Thank you for the ask, I love the idea. Also, I'm soo sorry you have to go through that and I hope you get better 🫶☺️ also any and all information I have was provided by Google, so please feel free to correct me if I write something wrong.

Hope you like it and hope it helps you in any way ❣️

•○🌑○•

Her chest heaved, her throat scratched as she hovered over the bowl, having just hurled her guts up. She slumped back against the wall, clutching her head.

Y/n stayed there for a couple of minutes before standing and turning to the mirror. She stared, then washed her face.

Before she left, though, she checked once to make sure the shield she had put up around the bathing room was up, because her newly found mate was in the house. She didn't want him to hear her.

And then all the blood drained from her face as she realised that she, while puking, had unintentionally left the shield down.

Her heart started beating wildly.

She was sure Azriel had heard her. There was no way he hadn't.

Even though the two of them had worked for Rhysand for centuries, they had barely had any interactions. And so, after they found out a month ago that they were mates, they were trying to get to know each other more. They'd been having dinner, and then she had excused herself, saying she needed to use the restroom.

She hesitantly stepped into her room, relieved but confused to find it empty. She had thought Azriel would be waiting in here to interrogate her. Did he not hear? Maybe she let the shield down after she was finished?

She decided to go down to the living room where Azriel was sitting before she left him there.

She found him staring into the fire, his jaw clenched.

"Hey, I'm back."

He turned to her and gave her a small smile. They then sat talking for some time, and with every moment that passed, the tension slowly bled from her shoulders. Maybe he hadn't heard anything, and she was worrying for no reason.

They talked carelessly, though Az continuously studied her.

"Are you in pain?" He asked, gesturing to her stomach.

She hadn't even realised she had wrapped her arms around herself until he pointed it out. But she was, in fact, in pain. She didn't think there was any harm in telling him about her abdominal pain, so she nodded.

"Nothing much though. It will subside."

"Are you nearing your cycle?"

She nearly laughed. "No. I haven't had my cycle in quite some time now."

"Why?" He asked, his stare intense.

She faltered. "Why what?"

"Why haven't you had your cycle?"

"Because..." That was when she realised that she was in deep shit. The male she was now taking to wasn't her mate. No, it was the Spymaster of the Night Court, and she was going to be interrogated.

"I always wondered why you made such elaborate meals for others but never ate them yourself. How you, somehow, never seem to be hungry. The unusual visits to the bathing room after eating."

"Azriel–"

"Are you having problems love?" He stood, coming towards her and crouching in front of her. His hands landed on her knees as he searched her face.

"You know that you can tell me anything, right?"

She nodded, blinking back tears.

"Then please tell me what you're going through. I want to help."

"I... I don't know how to tell you... its just–" She stopped speaking, wondering how to approach the topic. He stayed silent, rubbing circles on her thigh, letting her take her time. He wasn't going to let it go, so she had to tell him.

And then, all of it came out. She told him of how her mother had always wanted her to be perfect, and not being skinny was unacceptable. And so, in order to please her mother, she started eating less and less, eventually resorting to throwing up anything she ate.

"But your mother passed years ago. Why did you not stop?" He questioned gently, now sitting next to her.

She shook her head. "She had planted the image of perfection in my mind. If someone was not skinny, it took away from their beauty. I became obsessed with perfection. Or atleast what I thought was perfection.

"Whenever I looked at Mor, I would want to be perfect. And then, Feyre and her sisters came along. It worsened my obsession with being skinny."

"What are you saying?"

"They are just so damn beautiful. They have great figure, and even when they were mortal, they could have rivaled many fae females. And I want to be like them. Perfect. Someone who you could love. Someone worthy."

"No. Love, please don't think like that. I'm sorry you had to go through that, but you're beautiful as you are. I couldn't care less about your figure. I would love you no matter what."

Tears ran down his face as he said those words, and she instantly felt bad. She buried her face in his neck, trying to stop the tears.

"I'm sorry."

"What for? There is nothing you should be sorry about."

They stayed that way for quite some time, with him rubbing her back and constantly murmuring about how perfect she was and how she didn't need to do this. She sobbed into his chest, the guilt eating at her.

"Stop. Stop, don't feel guilty about it." She realised he could feel her emotions through the bond.

"Love? I suggest we go to Madja. She would know how to help."

"I don't need help." She mumbled, pulling away from him and clutching her knees to her chest.

"Y/n, darling, please..." When she again shook her head, he paused. Then, as if coming up with an idea, he spoke again. "How about we make a deal?"

"What deal?" She asked quietly.

"We go to Madja, and you follow her instructions and try to get better. In return, at the end of every week, I'll do anything you say."

She thought about it. She knew what she was doing was unhealthy, and she did want to get better. If not for herself, then for Azriel. Which was messed up, considering she should be doing this for herself. But this could be a start.

"Anything?" She whispered.

He grinned. "Anything."

"So if I tell you to wear a chicken costume and go out onto the streets and squawk around for the whole day, you'll do it?"

A blush rose to his cheeks, knowing how embarrassed he would be, but he leaned closer. "If that is what it takes."

She blushed, leaning back, but he followed her until their noses bumped. He pecked her lips once, twice, before resting his forehead on hers. "I'll do anything to make you happy."

She smiled.

If he was ready to do anything for her, even wear a chicken costume for her, to help her, then she'll be damned if she became a barrier stopping him from his goal.

"And, if you don't eat in a healthy way, you'll have no energy. And you need that for when we eventually accept the bond."

She stared at him for a moment, wondering what the hell he meant. But when she realised, she stood, sputtering, her face a burning mess. He grinned cockily, leaning back as his hands came to rest behind his head, his legs spread.

"I mean, it'll go on for a week at the least, maybe even a month. More than that, if all goes to plan. So, what do you say?"

She nodded, fighting the smile threatening to overtake her face. "Okay, I'll go." She sat back down, snuggling into his side.

He kissed her head, wrapping his arms and wings around her. "Love? I just want you to know that you don't need to hurry. Take it at your pace. Don't worry about anything else. I'll be there for you in this journey, every step of the way. And when you finally come out on the other side, I'll be waiting for you. I'll always wait for you."

She smiled. She knew it was true.

He would be there for her, no matter what.

And her situation didn't seem so bad, now that he was with her.

They would get through this. Together.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @eos-princess @bubybubsters

[sequinsmile-x]

fic request pleasee hehe :) so I read threads about how Hotch should lost his hearing after everything he went through. Could you write a fic about that pleasee? I think it's an interesting topic exploring how he partly lost his hearing and his fear of not being able to hear Emily's laugh again or the children they might have hehe

bestieeee i loved this idea the moment i got the ask, and clearly everyone agreed since this won the poll I did!! really hope you enjoy this <3

-x-

Euphonious

Emily is the one who notices it first.

Aaron's hearing loss gets worse.

-x-

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: None

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily is the one who notices it first. 

Initially, she thought it was because he was getting too caught up in his work, that he simply didn’t hear her as she tried to get his attention, only realising she was talking to him when she stood in his line of sight. Her eyebrow raised as she smirked and repeated whatever she’d said to him. 

Then it became more obvious something bigger was happening. 

He didn’t always hear his phone ring, especially if it was on his left side, and he asked the kids to repeat themselves if he wasn’t looking at them when they spoke. The team then started to tell her he didn’t seem to listen to them, particularly when they were on the jet, the roar of the engines drowning everything else out, and that he often asked them to repeat themselves too. A man who prided himself on his attention to detail, the very thing his career had relied on, was seemingly losing his touch. 

It was only when he complained about a buzzing sound she couldn’t hear, grumbling under his breath about the air conditioning in their home being broken again, that it clicked into place for her. 

His hearing was getting worse. 

He had annual appointments with his audiologist, appointments he hated and would complain about when they came around every year. She’d never gone with him, always staying at home with the kids or staying at work when he left early, and she’d feel a sense of relief when he came back to her and let her know everything was fine, that any change had been minimal. At first, she was worried about bringing it up with him, about suggesting that he bring his appointment forward and see his doctor, but he’d simply sighed when she mentions it one evening, their 9-month-old daughter fast asleep against his chest, and he’d nodded. 

It was only when he asked her to come with him, his voice soft as his cheek rested against the top of Thea’s head, that Emily realised just how worried he was too. 

She turns to look at him, her heart twisting in her chest as he tightens his hold on her leg, his fingers squeezing her knee joint so much she’s surprised it doesn’t pop. It’s the only outward sign of his stress, everything else internalised, burning a hole in his gut, and she wishes she could pull him into a hug. That the arms of the plastic chairs they were sitting in weren’t in the way. Instead, she places her hand over his, encouraging him to turn it over so their palms meet and she can link their fingers together. She smiles encouragingly as she squeezes and he smiles back.

“Sorry,” he says, his smile turning shy, and she shakes her head, “I didn’t mean to use your knee like a stress ball.” 

“You have nothing to apologise for, honey,” she replies, running her thumb back and forth over the heel of his hand, winking as she continues, “You’re the only one allowed to use my knee like a stress ball.” 

He chuckles and nods, squeezing her hand gratefully as he leans forward and presses a kiss to her cheek, “Did I tell you what Oscar did before we left?”

She shakes her head, warmth spreading through her at the mention of their 3-year-old. He was exactly like Aaron in looks and personality, to the point where she often joked she’d given birth to her husband’s clone. Oscar was reserved around people he didn’t know, but unbelievably loving to his family, forever doting on his little sister in a way Emily was worried wouldn’t happen when his initial sibling jealousy kicked in when Thea was born. 

His smile gets wider, “He kissed my ear and said he made it all better.” 

She has to press her lips together to stop her cheeks from aching from how wide her smile gets, and she shakes her head at just how adorable her son is. They’d told him and Jack a watered down version of why Aaron had to go to the doctor, a child-friendly account that worked with the detail they already understood. The damage to Aaron’s ears meant that flying was painful and that he was unable to ride most rollercoasters, so they’d had to explain that when they all went to DisneyWorld the summer before. They’d booked the vacation almost a year in advance, a decision Emily had regretted the moment she realised it meant she’d be pregnant in the Florida heat when they found out she was having Thea. 

She treasured the memories from that trip, even if it hadn’t been her idea of a vacation, and she kept a picture of Aaron and the boys in matching Mickey ears on her desk. 

“That boy will be the death of me one day I swear,” she says, shaking her head, “How will we cope when he gets old enough to rebel against us? He knows we can’t say no to him.” 

“So does Thea and she’s only a baby,” Aaron quips, raising his eyebrow at her, “We’d better just hope my genes can fight whatever yours will do to them in their teenage years.” 

She scoffs jokingly, faking offence as she places the hand that isn’t linked with his on her chest, “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Let’s just say, if you get enough wine in your mother she tells some stories.” 

She rolls her eyes but is cut off from responding when the doctor walks into the room. 

 “Aaron Hotchner?” 

She immediately realises that Aaron hasn’t heard his name being called, his back towards the door of the doctor’s office, and she feels her chest get almost impossibly tighter. She squeezes his hand and nods behind him, indicating to the doctor beyond him, and smiles encouragingly when he looks nothing short of embarrassed, as if this wasn’t something that an audiologist would be used to.  

“It’s your turn,” she says softly as she stands, her hand never leaving his as he joins her, “I’m right here.”

He smiles gratefully and squeezes her hand back, blowing out a short breath as he tries to calm his nerves. 

He had a feeling he knew exactly what the doctor was going to say. ___

It was his turn to put the kids to bed. 

Emily offered to do it, insistent that she’d help and give up the one hour she had to herself on the days it was his turn, but he’d turned her down. He needed the distraction, wanted to focus on anything other than what the doctor had told them.

He listens to every word as Jack tells him about dinosaurs for the hundredth time, matching his enthusiasm even though he could recite the facts himself, as the young boy helps him get his younger siblings ready for bed. He focuses on the splash of the water as he gives Thea her bath, on the sound of Oscar’s laugh as he purposely wriggles around whilst Aaron tries to help him into his pjyamas. Once all three of them are in their rooms, Oscar and Thea asleep and Jack sitting up in bed with his book with a firm deadline for when he needs to turn his light off, he sighs as he steps out into the hallway. 

He gives himself a moment, blowing out a slow and shaky breath as he covers his eyes, his ability to successfully distract himself with his children gone now they were in bed, the doctor's words now reverberating around his head.

He was at risk of losing all of his hearing in his left ear. 

His hearing loss had progressed significantly in recent months, something his doctor attributed in part to his age and in part to his job. His exposure to loud noises - gunshots and explosions - had taken its toll, and he’d been warned any further exposure could make it even worse. He was going to be fit for a hearing aid for his left ear and his appointments were being moved to bi-annually. It was the news he’d expected, he knew his hearing was getting worse, but it wasn’t the news he’d wanted because he knew it might force his hand in a decision he’d been grappling with for months.

He’d been thinking on and off about retiring ever since Thea was born. Emily had left the BAU when she had Oscar. It was a decision they’d made together, wanting to minimise the risk that their working together created. She’d moved to Counterterrorism, and if rumours he’d heard were to be believed, she was close to being asked to run the whole department. He’d carried on at the BAU, content and happy in his job, but recently he’d been thinking about leaving, about spending more time with his family.

He’d wanted the decision to be his, to be one he came to by himself, not one he was forced into because the only other option was to risk losing his hearing entirely. 

He sighs as he pushes himself off of the wall and heads downstairs. There was a time when he wouldn’t have wanted to speak to anyone about this, when he would have hidden it, let it fester until it turned rotten, bitter and vile on his tongue when he would claim he was fine. It was different now. He wanted to talk to Emily about it, to hear her opinion, to bask in the comfort and love would willingly give him. Affection she would give him for free whilst expecting nothing in return, a debt he would happily repay when it was his turn to be the strong one, when she’d collapse into him. It was a give and take he couldn’t imagine life without now, and he often wondered how he’d ever lived without her, how he’d survived before he had her to come home to, her smile and her embrace the places he found a type of peace he once thought he’d never have. 

He stops as he walks into the living room, smiling as he finds Emily fast asleep on the couch, a glass of wine just out of reach on the coffee table and a book on her chest. He walks over, reaching out to pick up the book, careful to hold it open as she’d left it so he can dogear a page for her. He’d accidentally lost her place in something she was reading before, and it was a mistake he’d never made again. He freezes as he sees the title, love and sorrow squeezing his heart in equal measure, a vice forged by his affection for her making his breath catch in his chest.

Linguistics of American Sign Language: An Introduction

She shifts as she opens her eyes, yawning as she stretches in place, unaware she’d even fallen asleep in the first place as she rubs her eyes. She smiles as she sees him standing just in front of her and she sits up, but her smile slips off her face when she sees what he’s holding, how his eyes are fixed on the title of the book she’d been reading. 

“I ordered it a couple of weeks ago, when I first noticed…” she says softly, drifting off as she clears her throat and smiling when his eyes meet hers, “I already speak 6 languages,” she says casually, “What’s one more? I could teach you too if…if you need me to.” 

In a moment, as he thinks about the way his wife loves him, how she’d casually bought a book on sign language, how she was thinking of learning it just in case he needed her to, and any doubt he had about retiring disappears. He wanted to do it for him, for his children, but more than anyone he wanted to do it for his wife. 

He wanted to tell her that he loved her every day of his life, and he wanted to hear her say it back, to never forget how those words sounded when she said them. 

He places the book down and sits next to her, his hands automatically reaching for hers, “I’ve been thinking,” he says, smiling as she shifts closer, her knees in between them as she gets as close as possible, “I think it’s time I retire.” 

Her eyes go wide, and she feels her heart drop into her stomach. This was the main reason she’d hidden the book from him, because she hadn’t wanted to guilt him into anything, to make him feel like he was backed into a corner. 

“Honey, no that’s not-”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while anyway,” he says, cutting her off, not letting her spiral into the guilt any more than she already had, “This just made the final decision for me.” 

She searches her eyes for a hint that he’s lying to her, that he’s trying to hide the truth to protect her feelings, but she doesn’t find anything except acceptance and love, “Are you sure? You love your job.” 

“But I love you and our family more, sweetheart,” he says, running his knuckles down her cheek, “And I know my hearing could get worse anyway, but I don’t want to actively risk it,” his hand drifts to her neck and he cups it, the beat of her pulse beneath his palm a comfort, “I want to hear your laugh every day,” he says, and she smiles, her eyes shining as they fill with tears, “I want to know what Thea’s voice sounds like when she starts to talk, and hear the boy’s voices break when they go through puberty,” he laughs, the sound wet as it catches in his chest and passes to hers, “I don’t want to risk any of that. I want it all.” 

She nods, her lips pressed together as she tries to stop her chin from trembling, but the force of her emotions wins out and a couple of tears fall past her lashline, “I want you to have all of that too.” 

He leans forward and presses his forehead against hers, taking a moment to breathe her in before he stamps his lips against hers, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” she says, kissing him. Her hand snakes up over his jaw and around the back of his head, holding him in place as she anchors her fingers in his hair as she kisses him again, “I love you so fucking much,” she closes her eyes and rests her forehead against his, “I’m sorry this decision is being made for you,” she says, pulling back to look at him, her tongue peeking out to lick her lower lip to chase the taste of him, “I know you’ve been thinking about it, but I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance to come to the decision yourself.” 

He smiles at how well she knows him, “Me too.” 

She kisses him once as she runs her fingers through his hair. As she pulls back she makes the point of trailing her finger around the shell of his left ear, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile as she presses her thumb and finger into the lobe of it, feeling the long healed over piercing he’d told her about on their first night together against her skin. 

“I think you’ll look sexy with a hearing aid,” she says softly, her smile getting wider as he rolls his eyes at her, “What? It’s true. I might buy you reading glasses too. And a tweed jacket with elbow patches,” she says, waggling her eyebrows at him, desperate to inject some lightness into the evening, to cheer her husband up after a rough day, “Really lean into the sexy older professor thing.” 

“I don’t need reading glasses,” he replies, tugging her into his lap, his hands on her lower back as he holds her in place. 

She hums, leaning forward and stamping her lips against his, trailing up to his ear and biting the lobe lightly, “Don’t ruin this for me.” 

He smiles and shakes his head at her, shifting her closer as he kisses her, safe in the knowledge that no matter what comes next it will be okay because he has her. 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” 

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks, @ptrckjcne, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317 @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

[scekrex]

Could you do an Adam x Angel Reader where their relationship is toxic(?) based on a song called 'Love Me Dead' but instead of female pronouns it's replaced with male pronouns? The song has female pronouns so I'm just imagining it with male pronouns.

Gosh I love that song so much! Gimme more song fic requests guys I love writing em ueuch

Love me dead

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, toxic relationship, irresponsible use of alcohol

note: not beta read bc fuck you

Love me cancerously/Like a salt-sore soaked in the sea/High-maintenance means you’re a gluttonous king/Narcissistic and mean

Adam. The first man was quite the complicated topic to talk about, not only when you were talking to him but also when you were talking about him to your friends. Never in your existence before had you met a person as selfish and self-absorbed as the so beloved first man. You couldn’t understand how so many people liked - let alone tolerated - him, you couldn’t understand why so many people were attracted to his disgusting and truly rotten character. And yet you were one of those people who found him attractive - that was the thing you hated the most about yourself. You loved this man with your entire heart while at the same time every single cell of your body held hatred for the brunette man sitting on the couch in your living room.

Kill me romantically/Fill my soul with vomit then ask me for a piece of gum/Bitter and dumb, you’re my sugarplum/You’re awful, I love you

With a deep sigh that left your body in frustration you grabbed yourself a drink - it wasn’t something hard, just a light drink that would make it just that much easier to have him around. You weren’t quite sure how you did it, but you had managed to charm the angel up quite well, you had him wrapped around your finger while at the same time the both of you were very aware of how much you hated each other - because one thing was for sure: the hatred you felt was mutual, the brunette on your couch hated your guts just as much as you hated his and to that very day it amazed you that he was still willing to call himself your boyfriend - fuck it wasn’t even a private relationship, Heaven knew you were dating and in public he seemed so proud and prideful of it. In private, when it was just you and him in your shitty apartment things were different though.

He moves through moonbeams slowly/He knows just how to hold me/And when his edges soften/His body is my coffin

You emptied the glass in your hand, watching the man from the counter of your kitchen as you refilled your glass. Adam looked beautiful, just sitting there in the dimmed lights of your living room, watching whatever the fuck it was that he was watching and sipping on the can filled with beer in his hand. A shiver ran through your body at how disgusted you were by your own thoughts, you knew you should throw him to the flames, forget about him and move on to either live your best single life or find someone worthy of your love - because Adam deserved many things in your eyes but none of them were positive or even slightly nice. And yet there he was, hanging out at his boyfriend’s house, sipping a cold beer, seeming quite happy with the situation. The glass in your hand was empty again before you even knew it and you decided to simply grab the bottle instead, there was no use in refilling the glass over and over again. There was not enough alcohol in this house to numb your feelings for Adam anyway.

I know he drains me slowly/He wears me down to bones in bed/Must be the sign in my head, it says:

“Love me dead,” you mumbled to yourself as you took a swig from the bottle and headed over to the disgustingly small couch. With yet another sigh you sat down next to Adam, trying to bring as much space between the two of you as possible. The brunette turned his head to look at you for a moment, his eyebrow raised, he asked, “What was that?” But you simply shook your head as you tilted your head back, resting it against the shitty backrest of your shitty couch and took another swig from the bottle, “Nothing.” That was seemingly enough of an answer for the first man because he shrugged and returned his attention back to the TV, which caused you to sigh again. All of this felt so wrong and yet so right and perfect. You wanted to kick him out and pull him close against your chest at the same time so the only logical choice was to lean your head against his shoulder, eyes roaming over the TV to figure out what sort of trash the first man was watching.

You’re a faith healer on TV/You’re an office park without any trees:/Corporate and cold, gushing for gold, leave me alone

You noticed how Adam watched you out of the corner of his eyes for a moment, his body felt tense against yours before he exhaled loudly and wrapped the arm in which he held the can of beer around your shoulders, pulling you in a little closer. Being able to see him up close you realized how tired the first man seemed and you couldn’t name whether it was from Sera’s demands or from your relationship - it was most likely both though. Your body shuddered in surprise as the gleaming golden feathered wing next to you was stretched by Adam and curled around you in protection, giving you the false feeling of comfort and love. It wasn’t that the brunette didn’t love you, he did. But he didn’t love you like normal angels loved, he hated that he loved you, no one else did that. Well no one except for you.

You suck so passionately/You’re a parasitic psycho, filthy creature finger-banging my heart/You call me up drunk, does the fun ever start?/You’re hideous and sexy

You leaned up a little, careful not to spill any liquid from the bottle in your hand or from the can in Adam's and pressed a kiss to his jaw in return of having the golden feathered wing wrapped around him. The brunette grabbed the seemingly empty can with his free hand - the one that was not wrapped around you and had just been resting on his thigh - and put it on the dirty little coffee table in front of the couch. Then he turned towards you, his touch was so gentle, so caring and if you would be unaware of how much he hated you deep within him, you would’ve thought of his touch as sincere. But that wasn’t the world you were living in and yet you decided to lean into his touch and let him guide you closer to him. In the meantime he grabbed the bottle from your hand and put it down on the coffee table right next to his can.

How’s your new boy?/Does he know about me?/You’ve got the mark of the beast/You’re born of a jackal, you’re beautiful

Gently his lips brushed against yours, starting a soft and slow kiss as the hand that had been resting on your shoulder due to how his arm was wrapped around your body trailed down your body to grab your hips in stark contrast to the soft kiss. His touch was firm, demanding and maybe even a little possessive - though that could’ve just been your imagination. The brunette growled against your lips as he pulled you flush against his body before he effortlessly lifted you up and placed you in his lap, keeping you close against him. The soft fingertips on your jaw slid down to your throat and you felt how his entire palm pressed against it - the touch itself remained soft though.

He moves through moonbeams slowly/He knows just how to hold me/And when his edges soften/His body is my coffin

Adam’s wings closed around your body, trapping you against his body and if you were honest you didn’t mind it at all, you liked the way his soft feathers tickled your neck, the way his fingertips pressed into the skin of your waist, holding you firm enough to make it bruise and in God’s mighty name, you even liked the thought of carrying bruises caused by the first man on your body. The pace of Adam’s lips against yours grew a little hungrier, a little rougher and slowly started to match the tight grip on your waist - a soft groan fell from your lips and bled into the steamy growing kiss.

I know he drains me slowly/He wears me down to bones in bed/What ‘bout the sign on my head? It says:

“Love me dead,” Adam growled against your lips, causing your body to vibrate quite violently.

[wrongcaitlyn]

do you have any jegulus fic recs??

YES ABSOLUTELY

it's been a bit since i've read jegulus fics bc the solangelo hyperfixation has been so strong but i still have plenty bookmarked!! i'm just going to share my favs of my favs, but i have even more (21 total) bookmarked on my ao3 :)

(also, just gonna put this right here, that i 100% would rec crimson rivers, best friend's brother, and just lovers by bizarrestars, and art heist baby! by otrtbs but i feel like everyone in the jegulus fandom has already read those bc they're pretty much classics, so just know!! i love those fics!! but i'm gonna try and rec some other possibly less known fics here :))

ALSO ALSO - all of these authors have incredible other fics and i highly recommend you check out their entire dashboard!!! for literally every single author on this list. i'm subscribed to all of themjkdf

You Signed Up For This by Solmussa

James and Regulus have a summer fling that they promised their friends they wouldn’t have. Remus and Sirius discover their mutual hatred is just pent-up sexual tension. Dorcas and Marlene are always winning, even when they’re not. It’s a cruel summer for all. first of all i'm extremely attached to this fic bc it introduced me to maisie peters, which led to one of the best concert experiences of my life!! but other than that, this is just so beautifully written, so detailed, and an all-around incredible fic. everything by this author is incredible too!! it's got the perfect balance of angst vs fluff and just summer vibes, which is prob the perfect thing to read right now - anyway, DEF read if you haven't already!!

Mastermind by pieceofchocolate

Regulus Black is the mastermind behind the Liberal party. Unfortunately, he’s never been very good at the more outgoing parts of politics – on a more fortunate note, he has his brother to act as a front figure. Sirius Black has always been the sweetheart of British politics, charming the voters with his wit and charisma. That was until James Potter came around, becoming party leader of his own party, the Leftists. Sirius would probably hate him, if they weren't such good friends. Regulus does not share this problem. Remus Lupin literally just needed a job, and got thrown into the mess of secrets, games and an upcoming parliamentary crisis. With an election around the corner, things are bound to go awry. MCD WARNING but so worth it. like genuinely. it's a painful fic but there's also a good dose of fluff and i enjoyed every single second of reading despite it being politics and.. well, i'm from america so you can probably guess that it was very strange to actually be attached to these characters while they were politicians😭 this one's also so well written and - there are fics where you can just tell that the person cares so deeply about the topic they're writing about, and this is one of them!!! i love finding fanfics where authors are just incredibly passionate about the subject/au OH and it has a taylor swift title. so like. yk it's already gonna be good. (this is also actually one of my favorite songs ever so i was soo excited to read)

blue and yellow skies by alarainai

Quidditch Rivals turned Quidditch Lovers. That's what the world sees them as, at least. Too bad Regulus hates James Potter's guts, and James? Well, it doesn't matter what he feels about their definitely fake, definitely emotionless relationship. c'mon. there had to be one fame au on this list. and i KNOW that this one's sports, but it's so so so fucking good - and i'm gonna be honest, i've read so many of the band au's (there are quite a lot in this fandom, even i've written one) but for some reason i didn't have any of them bookmarked - which tbf, i'm very selective with what i bookmark lmfao but!!! this one is just SO good the plot, the social media aspect, the background wolfstar, just 10/10 fic!!

these violent delights (have violent ends) by damagecontrol

titanic au prepare for pain. MCD warning. but like, the pain is written so well, and it's so heartbreaking, and i literally remember staring at the ceiling after reading this (finishing at like 2 in the morning) and just not being able to think of anything but that ending, and like, you KNOW that you're going to be in pain bc it's a titanic au, but like, GOD it's so good. i genuinely don't even have the words i'm still depressed bc of it (but in a good way)

The Mystery of the Pears by sonwar

In the cave, Regulus doesn’t beg for it to stop. He begs not be left behind, alone. Perhaps this is why, when Kreacher gives one last look over his shoulder and sees terrible, pale hands reaching for his master, he appears in a flash at Regulus’ side, clutches him by the elbow, and Apparates them both out of the cave, directly disobeying his master’s last order. canonverse fic!! and such a lovely au. the romance between them is just so natural, and yet there's still the war going on - but really, it's just so well written, despite all the angst of the war, imo it's just such a feel-good fic. love this one so much.

Only the Brave by Solmussa

A fic about two idiots falling in love (x2 because there's wolfstar, too) during a war, and the sacrifices they'll have to make to survive it. andddd this one's the big one. this one's the one i choose to accept as canon. like. GUYS. THIS ONE'S SO FUCKING GOOD if you haven't already and you're a jegulus fan, you just HAVE to read it like genuinely. the plot is so well-thought out, all of the interludes give these other characters their own stories too, and the angst!!! but also the badassery!!! i can't even explain it but if you want a canonverse war au where jegulus survives and they all win, then, like, this is the one. it's so perfect. prob my fav jegulus fic of all time.

and those r my recs!! hope that you enjoy them, and i have several others in my bookmarks!! i've also written some if you haven't checked those out, but!! happy reading :) thank you for the ask!

[entomolog-t]

Writing Question

A few of my OCs participate in sports (and honestly this question works for odd hobbies too) and I was curious if anyone had any advice or thoughts on terminology.

I really dislike reading the equivalent of an infographic in fics, even if its a subject I'm not very familiar with, and especially in action sequences it really breaks the pace. I don't like the terminology being too clinical either. I'm sure we've all read something on a topic we're familiar with from an author who has clearly researched but never experienced the subject (no judgement ! I don't expect everyone to have experienced first hand everything they write about)

ANYWAYS - I personally like to use a couple context cues, descriptors and the sport specific words (which tends to include odd terms/slang ect..). Though I'm worried that in doing so it could be a bit difficult to follow for some.

For example:

Gen pop vocab : She tackled him

Niche sport vocab : She hit a blast double.

I would write something like: She closed the distance- head ploughing into his gut as she ran through him. God, he hated blast doubles.

^ Theres still some sport vocab, but I try to integrate it close to the descriptors.

[uhohbestie]

Blooms In My Chest, Unsure About The Rest

A soft Scarian hanahaki fic for Valentine's Day 💝

🌺 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🌻 Tags: hanahaki disease (non-lethal), fluff, pining, humour, confessions, first kiss.

🌸 Summary: Grian has been in love with Scar for years but just can't seem to bite the bullet and confess. (Un)luckily for him, the flowers that have started blooming from his wings whenever he's around Scar are now making the topic sort of impossible to avoid. Maybe if he just hides until whatever magical force that cause the flowers to sprout give up on him, he'll make it through this whole thing unscathed?

That's got to work, right?

🌼 Words: 5,282

🌷 Link: Read it on AO3!!

–

“Oh my gosh—Grian!”

Grian is yanked back into the moment with a shock, sitting up in panic, snapping his gaze around as he looks for whatever threat they’re about to find themself faced with.

He sees nothing, but that doesn’t stop Scar from shouting, pressing the heel of his palm against his temple as he gasps, appalled. “My lawn! My garden!”

Dread settles in Grian’s stomach and he doesn’t even have to look down, knowing exactly what he’ll see.

Lilacs growing up out of the soil, their branches heavy with flowers, and poppies with paper-thin petals bobbing on the ends of long elegant stems.

“I…”

“I spent so long on these! And look Grian, they’re even in your wings!”

The floaty feeling is gone, replaced by a cowardly dread, sitting like a stone in Grian’s gut. Instinctively his wings fan open, sending a shower of petals, purple and red, raining down on the lawn. It would be comical if it weren’t so mortifying, and before he even knows what he’s doing, Grian is pushing his wings down, flapping hard to get himself off the ground. He hates the strain these kinds of takeoffs put on his back, but he needs to get out of there, now.

“I’m sorry, Scar. I really gotta go.”

–

Happy Valentine's Day! Key had this sweet idea so we spent yesterday writing it! A Hermitcraft season 9-inspired Scarian fic. With flowers. Lots and lots of flowers.

Blooms In My Chest, Unsure About The Rest on AO3

and never forget, the true reason for the season:

[earthtooz]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

omfg i got tagged in this forever ago by @/sipsteainanxiety, thank you shay :,) i luv u forever, but here i go..!

OVERWHELMING w/ bakugou katsuki

everything i wrote for bakugou, i wrote with my SOUL, and as much as i am reluctant to admit it, i don't think i'll ever be able to write for another character like i do him. i genuinely adore everything i had for him because it was so... poetic. idk how did i did it for boom boom blasty boy, but i did, and that's crazy. what's crazier was the amount of people that ate it up every time, so all of my fics for bakugou i associate with very positive things. i wish i could recommend more, but i want other characters to shine too :>

in all seriousness, this piece for bkg i think stands out for me especially, i loved the progression of the 'overwhelming'... 'motif', there is just unmatched neediness that intersects with love here. writing for bakugou allowed me to pursue this destructive, desperate kind of love that i absolutely adore exploring, the kind of love that you hang onto despite knowing that you don't deserve it. you know that moment when you have such a gut-wrenching thought but can never find the right words to voice it? i never had any of those moments with bakugou. every thought that came to mind was written onto paper so effortlessly that i genuinely don't know what i was on when writing for him.

maybe one day i'll write for bakugou again. ha. let me finish the most recent season first.

BAD IDEA ! w/ suna rintarou

suna my absolute babie, some of you might have never heard of this, but this was truly my magnum opus, one of the first anime fics i've ever posted and it received such positive reactions that i couldn't help but continue writing for anime!

i adore the dialogue in this, the relationship between kuroo and reader is my favourite, ever, but do also just love flop!readers panicking over a cute guy before realising that said guy is also into them the same way. i recommend this fic to see where earthtooz began, and that was with suna rintarou carrying my anime beginnings LOL

SAFE w/ gojo satoru

my treasure... def one of the earlier pieces i've written, but still a goodie. back when i was still lost in trying to figure out a writing style HAHA but this is truly one of my favourite gojo fics. just- the desperation and devastation of potentially losing someone you care about is such a vulnerable topic, especially for gojo satoru, that this trope made me crumble when i wrote it. just him being so broken over the possibility of losing you and turning into a puddle at your feet at the thought of it- RAGHH

DON'T GO w/ blade

just... this. please read this.

WITH(OUT) w/ itoshi sae

somehow one of my personal favourites of all time is for my blue lock ult bias' brother (whom i despise), but i do love this one. it's pretty clear that everyone else thought so too with how many sae reqs i got after this, not that i was complaining, but there is something so thigh-gripping about the intimacy i wrote in this one. no, it's not the most brightest i could come up with in terms of literature, but it was vulnerable, it characterised sae kind of well, and it was just a fic with a trope i love.

no pressure tags: @aanobrain, @hyomagiri, @ode2rin, @shiinleaf, @dnheng

[notjustjavierpena]

Hey! I was- still am obsessed with Switch and tbh, I kinda began yearning for something a previous anon mentioned. What if reader ends up pregnant and both agree on an abortion? I know it's a sensitive topic and you don't have to write anything like it at all if it's a nono, but I wish Joel would have been with me when I went to the clinic. I really missed the comfort and reading something like that would kinda heal a big wound for me, I haven't seen auch a fic anywhere. Again, no pressure, I think anon had a good idea there.

A/N: I made this very short because I wanted to do it tastefully and without too many details. I debated whether to write it because this author (it’s me, i’m the author) got a full hysterectomy three months ago and I still feel a little puzzled by the whole hospital experience. Additionally, this is a continuation of Switch, but it won’t be a canon part of my DBF universe since my Joel would never continue the relationship with reader after this. It would be a deal-breaker.  Furthermore, I wasn't completely sure that this suited the mood of my blog :')

Tags: Angst, hospitals, implied abortion, dbf!joel 

Word count: 472

Dbf!Joel x f!reader

You wake up in a hospital bed with eyes so tired that they make your eyelids sting, nausea present in your empty stomach. It’s all a blur of white, painful and sterile, causing you to look around with slight confusion and panic. 

“You’re awake, let me get a nurse,” Joel’s voice makes you instantly cry from relief. He is just about to leave the tiny hospital room, but stops dead in his tracks as soon as he hears the same sniffles as he had on the phone not long ago when you had told him you were pregnant. 

Were pregnant.

He hates to be the one who makes you cry. 

Whipping around, he goes to stand by your bed. Instinctively, he reaches out to run a hand over your hair in the most parental of ways and it soothes you whilst you push away the thought of how twisted this is. 

“Shh,” he coos, using his knuckles to wipe away a tear that’s on its way down into your ear, “S’alright, baby girl. Everything went according to plan. Nothing to be scared of anymore.”

“I’m so sorry, Joel, I didn’t know who else to bring,” you sob, certain that the pain meds have upped your emotional reaction because your crying turns absolutely uncontrollable. 

Joel feels worse than after any gut punch. He leans down over you, but only slightly so as to make eye contact. His voice is firm but soft, “Listen. It’s okay. Alright? Breathe. You’ll be okay. What were you supposed to do? Go alone?”

You shake your head, fresh tears running down your cheeks so fast that Joel cannot catch them. You avoid his eyes.

“No no, look at me.”

You force yourself to stare up at him. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells you, and oh fuck, does he mean it, “This— this, us, can’t happen again. We don’t have to ever speak of it.”

That hurts you more than you thought it would, and you frantically shake your head, “No, no, Joel, no. I don’t want you to leave me hanging.” 

How do you tell him that he had made your loneliness a distant memory when you had been in his arms?

He says your name with a sigh, but you pull him down for a kiss suddenly. You hadn’t kissed during your meeting (You aren’t sure what else to call it) in your room. It takes Joel by surprise, even more when he finds himself kissing you back ever so softly. 

“No, we can’t,” he pushes gently at your chest to stop himself from feeling anything more, and you untangle yourself from him with disappointment. He swears under his breath, fist clenched by his side.

“But Jo–”

“Let me get that nurse.”

You stare down at your hands from where you are lying, not knowing where this’ll go.

[argentumcor]

@paranorahjones tagged me in this. I'm not usually one for this sort of thing but I've been looking at writing-qua-writing to get some stuff in order so I figured I'd do a little navel-gazing (procrastinating).

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

Oh goodness. I think my first fanfic was for KotOR back in…before 2008, before I graduated high school. It’s lost to LiveJournal I believe, or FF.net. Several things are. They were fine, as I recall. Written when I was a lot younger for sure. I had to write them, though.

How many fandoms have you written in?

To go by AO3, 30 that I would consider actual separate fandoms. Many of those are one-shots, sometimes just odd ideas I had about something I watched or read or played, things I needed to get out of my head.

How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

Must be around 16, though there were several years-long breaks in there. I am a dried-up old woman. You'll never be actually cool until you're over 30, kids, and then you won't even really care, get over it.

Do you read or write more fanfiction?

Frankly, read. I read very fast, I write not as fast, no one writes as fast as I read. For whatever fandom I’m working in, with exceptions, I will read new things and things I liked to help keep me motivated and inspired. As you can see from how many fandoms I’ve written for, I devour new fiction by nature. Verily, I hunger for it.

What is one way you've improved as a writer?

Pacing, pacing, pacing. I write my own stuff under my real name- I will not dox myself, partly paranoia and partly a sense of personal artistic ethics- and fanfiction has been my training wheels especially with pacing. It is the hardest part of fiction to me, something intuitive you have to have a go at until you find the right sense of it.

What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Hmm. I’m not a great barometer for weird. In recent memory, I spent a lot of time walking around every stupid alleyway and cranny of Night City in Cyberpunk 2077. I spend a lot of time feeling around in the guts of the fandoms I write- sometimes that’s really what it feels like you are doing.

What's your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

Hard to pick. It’s really nice when someone gets what you’re doing with structure and theme for longer works, but the people who are just struck plan by something I wrote are very special to me. All my commenters are, really. You guys rock. You know what though? The ones who say things like “oh thank God I found this, it feels like it was written by an adult who cares about the characters as people and not some teenager trying to get off”, I like those ones best because I totally understand.

What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

Hmm. It’s a hard life, being a neo-paleo-counter-reformationist, but somebody’s gotta do it (rosary fics).

What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Crossovers most of the time. I have an X-files/SG-1 crossover I may never come back to because it required me to hold this kind of early aughts sci-fi mentality in my mind for two shows that both sync and do not sync and also isn’t where I, emotionally, am at these days. I don’t like to write crossovers generally because of that kind of thing and, even with reading, most of them are like a food combo only explainable by pregnancy hormones.

What is the easiest type?

Brief character studies where you’re looking at a character’s mindset during events. It’s simple and focused.

What is something that you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I started many moons ago, but never got around to reviving or really doing anything with, a Halo/Firefly crossover based on the end of Halo 3 that would have replaced Serenity. The crew finds some weird, old salvage adrift in the black…also my Firefly continuation since we’re on the subject, another ‘this is where the story is going’. I wonder if those notes are anywhere. No, no, wait, stop…

What made you choose your username?

I liked the sound of it. I’m Silverheart most places and argentumcor on Tumblr because Silverheart was taken so I just put it into Latin because neo-paleo-counter-reformationist and also, importantly, I am lazy.

Huh, I broke the formatting a bit? So it goes. I'll tag @womaninwinter because now she is double-tagged and this amuses me.

[twopoppies]

Hi Gina! I’m having a little dilemma and am not sure what to do, I think I could really use a wise voice. I’ve been writing ever since I was a kid, being an author always sort of fascinated me. Then, years ago when I joined the fandom and overall became a fan girl I obviously wrote lots of fanfiction. I enjoyed it, sure, but after some time it became draining, kind of always circling around the same topic so I gave it up. Now I would like to write sort of a novel, still not sure what it would be about but I have lots of different ideas. I just don’t know what to do because I know it would take a lot of my time and when I actually sit and think about it I find it… pointless? Sort of. I know I would never have the guts to release it at any point in the near future and writing just for it to be done and forgotten somewhere deep in my computer files feels annoying. Like it won’t get me anything apart from me pouring my heart and soul into it. Eh, I don’t know. Whenever I ask someone from my family they say to go for it but it just doesn’t sit right for me. I’m not entirely sure if I’m explaining this right.

Hi, sweetheart. If you have a story you really want to tell, you should tell it. Writing is “fun” only about a tenth of the time IMO. It’s often really hard, frustrating, anxiety causing, and insecurity provoking. 😆 But even when I’m struggling with all of those things, I’m still itching to write because it’s creatively so fulfilling for me. If you feel anything like that, I think you should absolutely write. Publishing your work is only a part of writing and it’s not something everyone will do—even when they want to!

And, as far as that goes, why wouldn’t you try? I’m not saying it’s easy. It’s honestly super difficult for most people. But if you write something you love, why not put it into the world in some way or another so other people can read it, too? You can use a pseudonym if you feel shy about claiming your writing publicly. You can publish original fiction on sites like AO3, it doesn’t need to be fan fiction.

Last, your comment about not getting anything out of it besides pouring your heart and soul into it is interesting to me. I’m curious as to why that’s how you see it. I’ve only ever published my writing on AO3, but I’ve gotten so much out of doing it—I’ve made wonderful friends, gotten closer to others, touched people with my writing, gotten compliments that deeply touched me, seen myself get better and better at crafting stories (still working on getting even better), inspired both of my kids to start writing their own books… honestly, I’m so glad I took that first scary step (and my first fic was only 9K… you can dip your toe in the water, you don’t have to bang out War and Peace on your first go).

It’s lovely your family is supportive. Maybe you just need to sit down and really dig into what exactly isn’t “sitting right” with you.

[missnobodymadness]

Welcome to my place, any similarities with an asylum are pure coincidence.

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I'm Miss Nobody, a 32 years old person who loves creating, sharing and read about original characters, with a strong preference for fan characters. English is not my first language and I am far from having a perfect grammar, I feel like this is important information considering that I write a lot about my characters. I consider myself a non-binary person and I feel comfortable with any pronouns.

⚠��� This blog may contain mature content occasionally and while never visually explicit I still feel like this deserves a warning, especially if you don't like cussing, I cuss a lot! Proceed with caution, you have been warned.⚠️

✔ Things I like ✔

❥ Art ❥ Anime ❥ TV shows ❥ Music ❥ Wajas ❥ Sharks and orcas

✪ Fandoms ✪

They are too many to list but I'm listing the main ones here, no order of preference.

➤ Attack On Titan* Favorites: Hange, Reiner, Pieck, Gabi ➤ Naruto* Favorites: Madara, Obito, Shikamaru, Jiraiya ➤ Spy x Family Favorites: Yor, Anya, Sylvia, Twilight/Loid ➤ Chainsaw Man Favorites: Makima, Himeno, Power, Kobeni ➤ Jujutsu Kaisen Favorites: Suguru Geto, Maki, Toji, Mahito ➤ Pokémon Favorites: Cynthia, N, Team Rocket, Gary ➤ Berserk (Manga only) Favorites: Serpico, Skull Knight, Guts, Farnese ➤ The Walking Dead Favorites: Michonne, Ezekiel, Tara, Alpha ➤ Game Of Thrones Favorites: Tyrion, Daenerys, Sam, Arya ➤ MCU Favorites: Loki, Tony Stark, Hela, Jessica Jones ➤ The Lion King* Favorites: Zira, Scar, Vitani, Nuka * = Main obsessions.

♥ My ships ♥

I enjoy shipping a lot and think it is an important part of my blog as I reblog these a lot, before following, please, check this list, I don't have time for drama and I won't start any over ships I don't like either, I'm here to have fun.

❥ Levi x Hange (Attack on Titan)* ❥ Levi x Hange x Erwin (Attack On Titan) ❥ Ymir x Historia (Attack On Titan) ❥ Loid x Yor (Spy x Family)* ❥ Hashirama x Madara (Naruto) ❥ Nami x Vivi (One Piece) ❥ Re-L x Vincent (Ergo Proxy) ❥ Jiraiya x Tsunade (Naruto) ❥ Kazuki x Rei (Buddy Daddies) ❥ Haruka x Michiru (Sailor Moon) ❥ Cara x Kahlan (Legend Of The Seeker) ❥ Jon Snow x Sam (Game Of Thrones) ❥ Daenerys x Tyrion (Game Of Thrones) ❥ Sam x Eileen (Supernatural) ❥ Linda x Mazikeen (Lucifer) ❥ Jesus x Aaron (The Walking Dead) ❥ Tara x Denise (The Walking Dead) ❥ Abraham x Eugene (The Walking Dead) ❥ Alicent x Rhaenyra (House Of The Dragon) ❥ Stede x Black Beard (Our Flag Means Death)

* = Currently obsessed with

♥ My OC X Canon ships ♥

Warning: This blog contains OC x Canon ships and loves these, if you don't like these, don't follow.

❥ Myline x Itachi Uchiha (Naruto) ❥ Evelyn x Reiner Braun (Attack On Titan)* ❥ Evelyn x Pieck Finger (Attack On Titan) ❥ Aisha x Tony Stark (MCU) ❥ Jiyū x Suguru Geto (Jujutsu Kaisen)*

* = Unrequited love, I have a thing for tragic love stories. :C

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✎ My characters ✎

I have lots of original characters, from original stories to fandoms, all of my humanoids are fan characters, while all of my ferals are from my original story called "Cursed Scars".

I've listed most of my characters on this page and each one of them has a hashtag on my blog where you can see and find out more about each individual character of mine, I tried my best to make it easy to navigate!

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Important notes:

• No DNI as I find these very useless, at most they will make you an easy target for suspicious people.

• I do not answer private messages, these make me extremely uncomfortable as I suffer from social anxiety.

• I don't draw often as drawing makes my mental health decline a lot, I don't consider myself an artist, I draw very occasionally only.

• Some of my fan fics and original stories have very sensitive topics, it does NOT mean that I am okay or support any of these in real life, I'm not a murderer for writing about a murderer.

• I don't support or tolerate any kind of bullying or harassment over fictional ships, I couldn't care less if you ship the opposite of what I ship, you are free to and no one should be treated like shit for that, I have zero tolerance for this kind of behavior and I'd probably kick your face if I could. I ship Levihan but I ain't getting mad at Eruri, it's that simple, thank you.

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Working on a page for my characters, I shall edit this post to add the link to it once I am done.

[yinyuedijun]

HI MAO!! LeeHi anon here! I just read your fic ohmygod I am so !!!!!!! I've always been so interested in how languages are tied to a person's identity and emotions, and for you to write a fic that revolves around languages. I never knew I needed this aaaaaa

I love love love LOVE how you tie language with identity and write about the power of language on someone's emotions. Your whole fic reminds me very deeply of that one article by li yuyun on language that I carved into my brain. And gosh the ending!! I'm so sorry if this was not what you intended to convey, but to me, the whole time it felt like Aventurine was being unfair to reader, especially with how vulnerable reader is to Aventurine. Until you revealed what reader has done on their end and suddenly it felt like reader was being unfair to Aventurine who was vulnerable in his own way too. I'm screaming into the void rn, my brain chemistry altered when I read the ending. It's like a blindfold getting ripped away from my eyes with no warning.

Also it has been a while and I'm on tumblr on and off now because I'm still a little caught up with school assignments (but ur fic makes me want to launch into a new writing project despite them HAHA), I hope you have been well and the move to your new blog has been good to you <3

-LeeHi anon

LEEHI ANON.... my darling my beloved I hope you've been well 💗💗💗 I too have also always been fascinated by this exact aspect of language, the fact that I find it shapes our thoughts and interpretation of context. I am so glad you feel I did the topic justice!! I wasn't familiar with the li yiyun essay but if it's the one in that link, then I'm floored that my lil fic reminded you of it?!!! this paragraph was a gut punch:

Over the years, my brain has banished Chinese. I dream in English. I talk to myself in English. And memories—not only those about America but also those about China; not only those carried with me but also those archived with the wish to forget—are sorted in English. To be orphaned from my native language felt, and still feels, like a crucial decision.

LIKE ... ME TOO GIRL I GET IT. so interesting to hear about other bilingual speakers' experiences with dreaming and memory sorting and talking/thinking in specific languages. if I could go back in time and polish the aven fic a lil more I would definitely have drilled down on the thinking piece!

ALSO I AM SO SO HAPPY YOU ENJOYED THE ENDING !!! you are interpreting it exactly correctly - they are mutually exploiting each other's vulnerabilities and I'm glad that twist w the reader hit 😎 thank you for sharing your thoughts there!!!It made me so happy !

AND THANK YOU ! I hope that school and life are treating you kindly beloved! take care!! <3 MWAH

[lifeofkaze]

Hallo 🙂

Can I get 💌 ❌ 🧐 🏆🎯 please? 💛

Saluuuut 💛💛💛💛

💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback?

As much as I love them, I have learned to not depend on them as much as I used to anymore. I know we always say "write for yourself" but it took me a proper months-long block and identity crisis as writer to actually take this advice to heart and learn to live by it. Half my story vault will properly never see the light of day, or only when I feel like it and that's... okay, I guess.

That being said, I love comments, and yours in particular. I actually read back on them again every now and again, and they never fail to put the biggest smile on my face so a big big BIG shout out to you 💛

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

I answered this earlier but in short, I'm open to almost any trope as long as I can somehow relate to at least an aspect of it.

(I say that now. If you gave me a list, I'd probably go "nah... nah... nah... omg never")

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

Yes and no. I try to write first, and research later. I find that the more I gather knowledge, I stray from what my gut says a scene/character should look and be like, and that makes it hard for me to trust my writer's instinct. Thus, I write the scene as I see fit, and then do my research and adapt what's needed in the next drafting round.

That being said, if there's factual knowledge I need, or I'm dealing with sensitive topics, I make sure that this research is thorough and well implemented before putting anything out.

🏆 What's your most popular fic?

I will never get over the fact that the stats of my reader insert smut fics from the olden days, which weren't even in a style that had anything to do with how I feel comfortable writing, beat any story that actually holds some personal meaning on AO3. And I mean... by a long shot.

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

As much as I'd like to be that super clever writer able to pull off these amazing twists... I'm not. I had hoped that my "secret" villain in A Search for Balance would fool a couple of people for at least a little while but literally everyone saw through Matthew from the start 😅

That being said, I've been keeping a couple of stories very closely guarded that are yet to be written where I do hope I can surprise a couple of people, so... we'll see when we get there.

[badger-bear]

Thank you @hellolovers13 @neondiamond @onlythebravest @beardyboyzx @disgruntledkittenface for tagging me to do the 2022 Writing Self Evaulation!

1. Number of stories posted to AO3 this year: 15

2. Word count posted for the year: 144,414

3. Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction, NHL

4. Pairings: Harry/Louis, Marcel/Louis, Zayn/Liam, Niall/Liam, Harry/Emma Corrin, Louis/Florence, Harry/Jamie Oleksiak, Harry/Niall, Harry/Liam

5. Story with the most:

Kudos: as it was

Bookmarks: as it was

Comments: as it was

the rest under the cut!

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): As a surprise to no one, As It Was. I had an idea for an age play fic for years but was too scared to post it. For one reason or another the previous versions didn't work. This time, it did. I think I showed the complexity of the topic and how at the heart of age play it's about trust and care. I love what I wrote and I'm really happy with it. I'm proud of myself for being vulnerable and posting it.

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): I have struggled with self-doubt and imposter syndrome for a long time and I kind of refuse to answer this. Even if the story didn't get a lot of hits I'm proud of myself for writing.

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received: Anyone who commented on As It Was saying they had never read an age play fic but gave it a chance. Especially the few people who said they trusted me to get them through the journey. I am honored that those people gave it a try.

9. A time when writing was really, really hard: Oh god, writing Liquid Gold because of all the sex and the vibe I was going for. Or Not Sure How To Say This Right. I was going through some weird transitions in my personal life which had me axious to work on this fic.

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Hm, I mean, I didn't expect to write Harry/Emma. Does that count?

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing: This is from Deafening Silence.

Harry turned to run towards the house, his ankle twisted uncomfortably from the quick movement. He pushed through the pain and the fear and started to run, his vans sliding on the gravel due to lack of friction. He slipped going up the stairs, causing him to fall on the cement making him cry out. He got up and tried open the sliding glass door, it was locked.

“No,” Harry cried. “No, no no,” he chanted as he tried again.

He didn’t lock it and he knew Louis wouldn’t lock it if he woke up and didn’t see Harry in bed. Something else locked it.

Fresh tears fell down his cheeks as Harry started to bang on the door, yelling for Louis as he gasped for breath. Harry felt like he was being watched, his gut was telling him not to look behind him and to get inside as quickly as he could. He heard a stick breaking and felt breath on the back of his neck.

Harry couldn’t hear over his own sobs or the pounding in his ears as he begged for help. The door was slammed open, and Harry was pulled inside by the collar of his sweatshirt and right into Louis’ hands.

“Close the door!” Harry yelled as he tried to shove Louis away from him. “Close the fucking door! It’s out there!”

12. How did you grow as a writer this year: Trusting myself! Writing whatever the hell I wanted.

13. How do you hope to grow next year: Same answer as above.

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): Oh god, I will try not to write an essay. But truly everyone at my discord @writerscornercafe. I built the community I had been wanting for years. Everyone is so supportive and wonderful in so many different ways. The amount of times people have helped me with phrasing or naming a character or reminding me of the name of an object is insane.

There's also a few people I want to shout out because whether they knew it or not, they helped me.

@larrieblr has been my brainstorming buddy/beta/friend/confidant for the past few months. Every Tuesday we talk about our fics, get each other unstuck, give each other tips, motivation and cheerlead. I am so thankful for the care they show me and my characters.

@justalarryblog for not knowing me for long but deciding starting a discord with me was a good idea. She is not only my bot guru but a trusted friend. I love laughing with her, coming up with ideas for the discord and knowing she has my back and I have hers.

The next few are writings who's work has inspired me to create meaningful stories, stories with laughter, and heart. Thank you for sharing your craft. Thank you for inspiring me. I'm sorry if I haven't said anything until now. Next year I hope to be better showing my appreciation.

@neondiamond somehow didn't get freaked out when the first thing I messaged her was that I had a friendship crush on her lol She has sent me pictures of her dog which never fail to make me smile. She is such a joy to get to know and I am such a fan of her work. They are all warm hugs when I need them.

@restless-rebels for being excited and non-judgmental every time I send her a text that says "so..." or "I was a thinking..." or my personal favorite "👉🏻👈🏻". She knows there is a 50/50 chance I am following it up with a bad decision and I can trust her to be honest that it could be a bad decision.

@disgruntledkittenface @uhoh-but-yeah-alright @neondiamond @littleroverlouis @lhhomefics @larrieblr

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: I haven't talked about this publicly and maybe it won't surprise anyone but I use age regression as a way to deal with trauma, chronic illness and the horror of being alive lol While I didn't write my trauma into As It Was, I used my own experiences and research as a starting off point. I (obviously) did a lot of research and self reflection before deciding to use age regression as a coping mechanism and i think that only helped me as I wrote. There are also a few phrases in every fic that my husband uses.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: I cannot stress enough to write what you want. Fuck what anyone says about tropes or charterers, do what you want.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: I am very excited to finish my big bang!

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

@onlythesweet @tommokat @allwaswell16 @berzerkshires @justalarryblog @voulezloux @louistomlionson @londonfoginacup @littleroverlouis and anyone else who wants to do it!