#get ahead

[negans-lucille-tblr]

February Member Benefits

Here’s all the benefits my members get for February, for as little as $3/£2.50 a month.

neganslucilletblr.com

Regular monthly member benefits include:

Access to over 160 fics that are exclusive to my members!

Access to my Member’s Only discord server where I post sneak peeks, polls, and chat to you guys about EVERYTHING and anything.

Early access to certain fics. Find out what’s currently ahead here

Find out more about becoming a member here

SO, WHAT’S COMING TO MY WEBSITE THIS MONTH?

-Members Exclusive Content-

Watching Over You || Mini Series || Dark!Sam x Reader || Part 7 / 10 || Dark Fic - Smut/Angst/Fluff

Closed Doors || Mini Series || Cordell x Reader || Part 2 / 5 || Smug/Angst/Fluff

We're Alone Now || Mini Series || Dean x Benny x Reader || Part 5 / 6 || Dark Fic - Non con, Kidnapping, Smut, Angst, Fluff

A Good Daddy || Mini Series || Negan/Dean/Sam x Reader || Part 5 / 8 || Dark Fic - Non-con, Incest, Smut, Angst, Fluff

Lucky || Oneshot || Alpha!Beau x Omega!Reader || ± 3K Words || Angst, Smut, Fluff

-AHEAD OF TUMBLR-

Open Wounds || Series || Soldier Boy x Reader || Chapters 4 - 7 || Dark Fic - Smut, Angst, Drug Use, Non/Dub-con

—-

I am no longer posting new content on my Patreon for the foreseeable future due to the nature of all the fics I have planned.

That’s all for February!

[the-ephemeral-ethereal]

Hunger is good discipline and you learn from it; but you can work something out. And as long as they do not understand it you are ahead of them.

from A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway 

[t00thpasteface]

fucking love saying "tough crowd" or "is this thing on" after telling a joke and not getting a response. or "i still need to workshop that one". you fools. even when you completely ignore my jokes you're only helping me set up more jokes. it's open mic night at the hotel california

[lackadaisycal-art]

I'm getting so sick of major female characters in historical media being incredibly feisty, outspoken and public defenders of women's rights with little to no realistic repercussions. Yes it feels like pandering, yes it's unrealistic and takes me out of the story, yes the dialogue almost always rings false - but beyond all that I think it does such a disservice to the women who lived during those periods. I'm not embarrassed of the women in history who didn't use every chance they had to Stick It To The Man. I'm not ashamed of women who were resigned to or enjoyed their lot in life. They weren't letting the side down by not having and representing modern gender ideals. It says a lot about how you view average ordinary women if the idea of one of your main characters behaving like one makes them seem lame and uninteresting to you.

[platinumsim]

Well it’s good I decided to sleep the whole day away since I got home yesterday because today I work up and instantly started working on assignments and papers before the official break ends Monday.

[1alchemistart]

dont got much to offer for The Holiday but have these sillies!

happy valentines day :D

[mienar]

the wandering painter, part one

instagram | shop | commission info

[horrorsequel]

It's so dumb when ppl question lesbians over being obsessed with some weird little guy as if being obsessed with insane women isn't an accepted part of gay culture for men. grow up. if a lesbian has a special little guy or a million special little guys, then a lesbian is having fun.

[scintillatingshortgirl19]

i think im having a stroke

[thatswhatsushesaid]

“um, you are actually supposed to hate this character with your whole chest, the text is EXTREMELY clear that he is terrible and you should not like him”

well i like him anyway. what are you going to do about it, tell my mom?

[negans-lucille-tblr]

The PDF of The King's Blessing is now on sale at half price! So, if you've been thinking about it, why not grab it now?!

[identitty-dickruption]

one of the worst things in the world is that feeling unloveable can (and will) make you act in ways that reinforces itself. I feel unloveable so I don’t respond to messages so people reach out less so I feel unloveable. one of the hardest things in the world is fighting back the brain demons long enough to break the cycle

[orangesavannah]

Something else than just comic pages. I had this very vivid idea in my head and had to get it down on canvas.

[thirteenducks]

feverish

(wriothesley x wife!reader) [sfw]

༻❁༺ content: fem!reader (reader is referred to by ‘wife’ and "she/her"), established relationship, marriage, reader has hair long enough to reach neck

༻❁༺ word count: ~1.5k

༻❁༺ tags: sickfic, banter while sick, this is just wrio taking care of you and being a butt while doing it, feat. sigewinne who does not get paid enough for this, if you are sick and reading this rn im so sorry and i hope you get well soon, coldsink wrio x heatsource wife agenda

༻❁༺ author’s note: my friend @mmmairon is sick and i am in another country and cannot help so i'm sending wrio on my behalf. pls enjoy especially if you don't feel well right now :(

After a restless night, Wriothesley is thrilled to hear that you're awake now. He wastes no time in rushing to your side.

Wriothesley’s pen scratches unpleasantly against a disciplinary notice, its point threatening to carve into the wood of the desk beneath. The owner mutters darkly under his breath as he completes a signature on the offending paper and slides it to his left. Immediately, another takes its place from the stack on his right.

For two hours, nothing else has broken the quiet of the Duke’s office. Two hours too long, by Wriothesley’s measure. He glances at the clock, hand continuing to sign his name by sheer muscle memory.

Are you getting any rest? Did the chamomile from your tea an hour ago help at all, or are the throes of fever keeping you awake? Does he have the right ingredients to make you beef stew? Preoccupied, he writes “soup” on the signature line of a prisoner release form by mistake.

He sighs, pinching the crooked bridge of his nose between his fingers. They’re as cold as ever. He misses the warmth of yours unspeakably.

The next thirty minutes pass like an eternity. Surely, Sigewinne would be at his side in an instant if you were awake. His presence there now would only serve to wake you from much-needed rest and defer his backlog of paperwork even more. Neither of these points keeps him from staring the clock down like he’s in the ring again.

Suddenly, there’s a quiet knock on his door and Wriothesley snaps to attention, nearly knocking over an inkwell in his haste. Sigewinne enters without his bidding, an unreadable expression on her kind face. She doesn’t wait for his question before she answers it.

“Yes, the tea put her to sleep, and yes, she’s awake now.”

His features relax in a moment, the furrow in his brow smoothing.

“I’m afraid she’s not any better than she was this morning, however. I would have really liked to see her fever come down by now...” The Melusine trails off, her small hand on her chin and a pout on her face. “The chill probably isn’t doing her much good, either.”

Her boss, however, is already halfway downstairs, pulling his coat on as he takes the steps two at a time. Sigewinne sighs as she turns to follow him at a much slower pace. So predictable when his wife is involved.

In contrast to the speed at which he crosses the fortress to your shared living quarters, Wriothesley’s steps are soft as he nears your bedroom door.

“Sweetheart? Are you up?”

A weak cough answers him. He’s by the bedside in a moment, kneeling and pushing aside the curtain that hides you from him. Your eyes squint a bit as the sickly light of the fortress filters in, and his hand moves up to shield your face as he appears in your field of vision.

Despite the red ringing your eyes and nose and the congestion in your breathing, you smile up at him and his heart almost jumps out of his chest.

“Hi, darling.”

The side of his mouth quirks up. “Hi. Feeling any better?”

You shake your head slightly, your hair fanning out on the pillow beneath you. He silently gathers it in one hand and moves it away from your neck as he waits for you to continue. The brush of his cool hand against your flushed skin feels incredible and you bring your hand to rest on his, a silent entreaty to keep it there.

“Sigewinne says I’m in the worst of it now and that from here-” you stop to cough, Wriothesley’s eyes raking over your frame as it shakes with the effort. “-from here it should be uphill. As long as I can rest up today.”

He pushes the hair back from your forehead with his other hand, stroking it absentmindedly. “Well, we’ll have to stick it out until tomorrow then, huh?” The grin he shoots you, all teeth, does more for you than you think any of the medicine on your bedside table has.

That’s why you’re as surprised as he is when the tears start to roll down your cheeks. You hadn’t even known they were there until now, but suddenly it’s so much harder to breathe than it was and Wriothesley is a swimming blur in front of you. The shooting pain in your head, dulled to an ache until now, comes back in full force as your body curls in on itself and your temple meets your husband’s shoulder.

You don’t know if you’re crying from the headache, from exhaustion, or from something else, and your mind is too foggy to care. All you can do is be held as his arms come to rest firmly around you and he pulls you to him, murmuring words of comfort.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry... I wish I could do more.” Your hands grip his collar a little tighter as you sob into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “I know, love. You’ll feel better soon, I promise. Sigewinne and I are gonna take care of everything, okay?”

There’s an edge of concern to his voice that you can hear even through the haze of sickness. You hate it. It’s likely just the seasonal flu; half the Fortress has had it at some point this winter. The thought of how much you were making him worry over something so small as this...

“I know what you’re thinking. Stop it,” Wriothesley gently reprimands, his cool fingers stroking your forehead again. You can feel the cold metal of his wedding ring against the heated skin. “You’re not being a baby about anything. You hear me?”

Your silence speaks volumes. He laughs a little, the sound loud in the silence of your bedroom. “I know you well, don’t I?”

It takes a while for your tears to completely subside. When you’re finished sniffling against his collar, he props you up against the headboard with pillows behind your back. You’re more congested than ever, something your husband has the nerve to laugh at as he hands you tissues, but there’s no unkindness in his tone.

He disappears into the kitchen for a few minutes as you doze, exhausted from the effort of crying for so long. When he eases the door open again, he’s carrying a tray with a teacup and pot (of course) and a bowl of something that smells warm and comforting.

“Hmm. Excellent room service this place has. The waiter is a little scruffy, though,” you say as Wriothesley places it on your lap, tucking in the covers around you.

He gives you a fake look of injury. “How dare you, ma’am. I’ll have you know I’m too worried about my wife to shave, who I’m afraid is deathly ill,” he sighs, stroking the stubble on his jaw. He spoons soup into your mouth before you can retort, stifling a smile.

Once you’ve drained half the soup, Wriothesley seems satisfied. He removes the tray from your lap and takes your hand, bringing it to his own forehead.

“Oh, no. How awful.” He shoots you a glance. “It appears the Duke of the Fortress has come down with something.”

You raise an eyebrow. His forehead is as cool as the rest of him is. “Really.”

“Oh, yes,” he says, flopping onto your lap. “It looks like he’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day.”

You laugh, wincing when it makes your head throb. “The Duke sounds like a slacker, if you ask me.”

“Well, everyone knows that,” Wriothesley murmurs, burying his face into your thigh. “They’ll have to tell my boss about it.” You feel him grin against your leg.

You sigh, feigning exasperation. “What a shame. I was just about to ask him to dinner, too.”

Wriothesley has migrated to his side of the bed by now and is nestling into your side with the stubbornness of a dog. “Don’t worry, I hear he’s a messy eater. Absolute carnivore.”

Your hands come to rest on his head, the soft grey strands tickling your palms. “You know you’re going to get sick, right? I’m highly contagious.”

No answer.

“You’re the head of the Fortress, Wrio. If you get laid up, Sigewinne might put a bounty out on you. She seems like the type.”

Your husband murmurs into your side, already half-asleep. “She’ll have to catch me first.”

Despite your many blankets and the body next to you, a sudden chill runs through you and you stiffen. He feels it, arms tightening around your waist.

“Fever pills are on the bedside in the white bottle. Water is next to it.”

You smile. “Thank you, darling.” He hums in response.

A few days later, you’re well enough to leave your room again. Sigewinne would be thrilled, if not for your husband, who looks more smug than any sick man has a right to be.

He sniffles, burrowing into your sheets again as the Melusine glares daggers at him. “I’ll be fine. My wife loves me and I have leftover soup in the fridge. What else does a man need?”

[cypjj]

My piece depicting Naminé for the Queerly Beloved zine 🥰 This was drawn back in 2021

[isolabellz]

the aftermath