#motivated me to finally finish this wip that had been sitting around for so long

[cosmosully]

tribute to legends arceus

[dustofthedailylife]

You were not supposed to hear that...yet

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader

Summary: Alhaitham reveals a secret about the inner workings of his heart to his friends over a cup of wine and in between some banter. However, he did not expect it would go this wrong...

Tags: Fluff, crack, comfort, teasing, consumption of alcohol (by characters), the whole 4ggravate crew is here, friendly banter between friends, a small sprinkle of angst because reader is insecure (but it's unjustified)

A/N: Dust posting a new fic?! Not an April Fool's joke, despite the date! Finally felt inspired and well enough again to finish this fic that has been rotting in my WIPs forever. I hope you like it. And feel free to hit me up with asks and reblogs - it'd motivate me greatly after my long break 🥺

The usual friend group of Cyno, Kaveh, Tighnari, and him - Alhaitham, was sitting at the Tavern. A gathering like it happened almost every weekend at this point.

The wine bottle on the table had been emptied around two or three times already when Kaveh ordered a new one yet again. At this point, Alhaitham had actually lost count of how many glasses of wine he'd already had, too. But one thing was for certain, he could feel the alcohol in his system and the warm blood that was rushing to his cheeks. All things considered though, despite feeling a little tipsy from the intoxication, he was still able to think clearly.

"Let me guess I'm the one who will have to end up covering your bill again?" He took sarcastic a jab at Kaveh. 

The man in question just squinted his eyes and glared daggers at him before opening his mouth in an attempt to protest before it was quickly shot down by Tighnari's hand covering it.

Alhaitham leisurely leaned back in his chair smirking to himself, training his focus back onto the TCG cards in his hands and considering his next turn of action in the game he was playing against Cyno.

"What, am I just supposed to take it all the time and be quiet?!" Kaveh retorted, directed at Tighnari. The fox's ears were beginning to droop lower and lower as his expression became more and more deadpan.

"You all know as well as I do that if [Y/N] was here he wouldn't be acting like this. He would be on his best behavior and pay for the drinks without so much as complaining or being so cocky."

"By the way," Tighnari attempted to divert the attention away from Kaveh's ranting. "Where are they? Didn't you say they wanted to stop by the Tavern as well today, Alhaitham?"

Alhaitham played his round, throwing his card Cyno's way before looking up at Tighnari again.

"They mentioned it but I suppose something must've come up instead. I will ask tomorrow."

"Isn't it strange?" Kaveh addressed the others. "Whenever it involves [Y/N] he graciously offers himself up to talk to them and seek them out but whenever someone else is looking for him he is nowhere to be found."

"Maybe you just can't find me because I simply don't have anything to discuss with you." Alhaitham threw another jab at Kaveh with a smirk, which was promptly followed by a light punch against his bicep by the blonde architect.

"What? I constantly have to talk to you already when we're at ho-"

"SHHH! Don't say that out loud." Kaveh hissed, quickly covering Alhaitham's mouth in panic, since he didn’t want him to spell out that they were currently living together. “It's embarrassing enough that I currently have no other choice, no need to add to my misery.”

A witty quip was burning at the tip of Alhaitham's tongue after Kaveh's remark yet again, but he decided to swallow it. He didn't want to upset him too much, especially since he knew he'd had it rough lately. Even if it would've been said in jest, there was no need to add insult to injury. Instead, he simply resorted to taking another sip of his wine with a low chuckle and a glance in the blonde architect’s direction.

“Aaaaanyway…”, Tighnari cleared his throat, addressing Alhaitham once more. “What is it between [Y/N] and you anyway? You've become quite close haven't you?”

“That's an understatement.” Kaveh groaned, dropping his head on his folded arms on the table dramatically. “He can't stop talking about them. Day in and day out it’s [Y/N]-this, [Y/N]-that.”

“We started working on a project about six months ago. Things are progressing quite smoothly if I do say so myself. Certainly makes things easier if you're working with someone who is both hardworking and intelligent in every way. I’ve been lucky to have been assigned to the project with them.” Alhaitham answered Tighnari’s question rationally while ignoring Kaveh’s dramatic display.

“Here he goes again.” Kaveh huffed, directing his comment at Cyno and Tighnari. “Whenever he talks about them you hear nothing but praises.”

“If someone is doing a great job, is it not logical to give them the credit they deserve?” Alhaitham added matter of factly.

“No… I mean yes, but no. It's just not something I'd see you doing. It’s so out of character.” Kaveh huffed. “And before you say anything, yes, maybe I just don't know that side of you because I don't give you any reason to praise me. No need to add that, thank you.”

Kaveh poked his tongue out at Alhaitham before taking a big sip from his wine.

“Why, if you want to be praised you just need to say so, Kaveh. I think you're quite brilliant - your shortcomings aside.” He just had to add that last bit. Kaveh was just way too easy to tease. And what would this friend group be without the playful banter and jabs at each other?

Kaveh choked on the drink immediately and slammed his cup down onto the table with a loud clang. A fire burned behind his crimson eyes when he spoke next.

“This is exactly what I meant, thanks for proving my point!”

Kaveh looked at Cyno and Tighnari gesturing in the direction of Alhaitham with a move that said “Do you see what I mean now?”.

Tighnari just facepalmed and shook his head.

“And what is your point exactly?” Cyno inquired, playing a card from his hand.

“Did you not listen to what he said?” Kaveh gasped.

“Not really,” Cyno admitted honestly, his eyes trained back on the cards in his hands.

“It's the fact that he can praise others too, but never without also pointing out their faults in the same sentence. Did no one ever notice that? However, he never does that when it's [Y/N].” Kaveh explained.

“And?” Tighnari and Cyno replied in unison, looking puzzled as to where Kaveh wanted to go with this.

Kaveh put his head in his hand and groaned in frustration. “Sometimes you all make me feel like I am surrounded by idiots.”

Now everyone raised their eyebrows at him.

“You're all so clueless… anyway.” He sighed dramatically and accusingly pointed a finger at Alhaitham. “This guy. This admittedly handsome but blockheaded, know-it-all, stoic, annoying-”

“Get to the point.” Alhaitham chided, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine, fine." Kaveh spread his arms like he was holding a presentation and Alhaitham his canvas.

“This guy's right here, as alien as it may sound – has fallen in love.” 

“You're in love?!” Cyno exclaimed his eyes widening. “With who?!”

Tighnari rolled his eyes, knowing full well Cyno hadn't listed at all the past ten minutes because he had been so absorbed in his cards, and gently slapped the back of his head.

“[Y/N], of course!” The Forest Ranger exclaimed with a huff.

Cyno, now rubbing the back of his head just ushered a “Wait really?” while Kaveh and Tighnari just curiously began eyeing Alhaitham in the hope of seeing any type of confirmation on his face. However, it stayed as unreadable as ever.

He nonchalantly took another sip of wine from his cup while leisurely looking back and forth between the cards on the table and the ones in his hand before playing another turn as if this conversation just now hadn't happened.

“So!?” Kaveh asked, almost hysterically at this point. “Do you intend to enlighten us?”

Just how had he gotten into this situation now? Alhaitham suppressed a sigh before turning to Cyno: “Your turn. Two of your cards are down.”

“Archons!” Cyno cussed, immediately attempting to go back to study his cards but a fist slammed the table harshly, drawing all attention to it.

Tighnari flinched in shock and Cyno, too seemed to be pulled back to reality. Kaveh’s hand was trembling slightly, visibly agitated.

“Stop changing the subject, Alhaitham. The more you keep avoiding answering the question the more I think I am right in my assumptions.”

Alhaitham pinched the bridge of his nose beginning to truly feel a little stressed by Kaveh’s insistance. The man was truly too nosy for his good.

“Kaveh, just let it be if he doesn’t-” Tighnari began before being cut off by Alhaitham.

“And what if you are right? What then, Kaveh?”

Everyone at the table fell silent and everyone was staring at him with a mix of disbelief and shock.

He hadn't planned to reveal any of this yet, especially since he feared they would try to become his wingman. Which, admittedly, may be a nice gesture on paper but with them it could only end in disaster. Plus he would prefer to deal with his feelings alone first and think them through thoroughly, before talking about them with anyone. Besides, it should be you, if anyone, who should hear about them first - alas he was too deep into this now to weasel his way out.

“What?!” Kaveh’s mouth hung open in shock.

“So it is true then?” Cyno inquired, putting the card in his hand down on the table, now suddenly fully hooked on the tea that was being spilled.

“Hold on. Pause.” Kaveh sat upright, before quickly gazing over Alhaitham’s shoulder. “So you-”

“For Archon’s sake.” Alhaitham was beginning to get annoyed because he didn't know how much clearer he had to become for them to get it. “Yes - I’ve been in love with them. For a while now-”

“Alhaitham-” Kaveh tried to interject.

“No, don't interrupt me now, you pestered me about it for the past twenty minutes now you'll have to listen. I have never met anyone who is so hardworking, intelligent, and stunning in any way. Of course, I would be infatuated with a person like them. It would be hard not to fall for them.”

“Uhm Alhai–” Kaveh laughed awkwardly before being interrupted by Alhaitham’s ongoing monologue once more.

“At first I wasn't sure about it but I am now. I am thinking about them first thing in the morning and last thing when I go to sleep - unless you're hammering away on some project again that keeps me awake, Kaveh.”

Kaveh waved for him to shut up already but Alhaitham didn't let that bother him. If he wanted the full story with all the details - he'd get it. He hoped that would get this discussion out of the way once and for all.

“And guess what? They even remembered how I liked my coffee just after I told them once and gifted me a book that I had been trying to find for weeks. So yes, Kaveh. I love [Y/N]. There, does that suffice now, or?”

Kaveh let out a squeal as soon as Alhaitham had stopped speaking but upon further inspection of his expression, it hadn't been one of excitement but rather pure terror and awkwardness. 

“Alhaitham…” Cyno and Tighnari said in unison and he only then noticed as well how their gaze was trained on a spot behind him.

“What?” Alhaitham inquired, curling a brow up in confusion before all three men pointed their fingers at something behind him.

When he turned his head around to look at what they were trying to show him, he felt his heart drop to his stomach for the first time in ages.

To his utter shock, you were standing right behind him. Or rather, you were frozen in place, your hand still half lifted in greeting as if you had just been about to greet the lot of them. Your mouth was slightly open in shock still and your pupils were but the size of pinpricks and transfixed on Alhaitham.

And judging by your reaction you must've heard every last word he had said.

“I-I…” You started stammering, clearly confused about what you had just heard. “I uh-, I'll head back home.”

You abruptly turned around on your heel and marched straight out the Tavern door you had just come through as if someone was chasing you.

Alhaitham hadn't moved a muscle ever since he had spotted you standing behind him and he looked like he was frozen in place. Everyone at the table had fallen so silent, one would've been able to hear a needle drop.

Alhaitham's eyes were still fixed on the door you had left through. The little bell that chimed every time the Tavern door hit it on the way in or out was still dangling lightly from the impact. But the movement was dying down slowly but surely - just like Alhaitham, who felt like someone had dropped a boulder on his chest.

You were not supposed to hear that, yet.

“You uh…, Alhaitham you should probably follow them.” Tighnari was the first to speak again. He awkwardly scratched behind his ears. Cyno hummed in agreement while Kaveh just sat there with his mouth wide open.

Alhaitham exhaled in frustration, unable to properly place his emotions. But they were somewhere between unsettled, nervous, and discomforted.

When he got up it felt like someone had tied heavy iron blocks to his ankles that were weighing him down.

“Yeah, I guess I do,”  Alhaitham muttered before marching off.

When you stormed outside the Tavern the cool evening breeze gnawed at your skin and made goosebumps erupt all over. Although you weren't quite sure if it was the temperature or your emotional turmoil at play here.

There was no way Alhaitham had just said that and actually meant it. He wouldn't be the type of man to flat-out admit that he had feelings for anyone. Or would he? He had been talking to his closest friends after all.

You were questioning your sense of reality and thought you must've fabricated it all in your mind. Or maybe you misheard what he said and he was talking about something else entirely.

But no, he said your name, and the others looked panicked when you entered the tavern and approached the table.

As you rushed through the streets of Sumeru City the chilly wind kept whipping in your face. Not even you knew where you were going at this point. You simply went where your feet were carrying you.

But eventually, you realized you had run up the Akademiya and to the blue-green mosaic pavilion that glistened in the last rays of sunlight. The spot at which you and Alhaitham often spent your lunch break together. 

You sunk down on the bench exhaustedly and stared holes in the ground.

No way.

There was just no way.

Alhaitham. The man you had fallen for so hard that he had begun to occupy every waking thought you had. That man was supposed to have feelings for you and had just flat-out admitted it?

No, this simply had to be a dream. A bad joke. Or maybe even a bet between the group that they orchestrated to prank you.

You could feel your heart thumping in your head and it felt like your head was swimming. It was as if you had downed an entire bottle of wine by yourself, but you were as sober as one could be.

Yes, that had to be it. It was a bet between the boys over one too many cups of wine and they had all acted their parts out flawlessly.

You got up again walking to the railing, overlooking Sumeru city that shone majestically in the last remaining rays of sunshine that the day had to offer. Another gush of wind blew your way, making tears well up in your eyes. Although it may have also been your emotions who were to blame for that instead.

You inhaled deeply. Once. Twice. But nothing seemed to help calming the rapidly beating heart in your chest.

In your daze, you completely missed how someone had quietly come up to the pavilion as well.

Alhaitham leaned against the railing himself, looking over the city in silence, too. He was clearly ringing for words. Although you assumed the wrong reason for his struggle.

“Look,” you began, trying your hardest to suppress the tremble in your voice. “If you came here to apologize - please, spare me your words.”

He looked at you opening his mouth before closing it again right after with a silent nod. His cheeks were dusted in a light pink shade - you assumed it was caused by the alcohol he had downed at the tavern with the others.

“I hope that we can go back to normal tomorrow and just finish our project. I’d prefer if we kept our distance after that. I think it’s for the best” The words left your mouth at normal speed, but it felt like you had to force every single one out. They felt tenacious, like old chewing gum that you tried to pull out from in between your teeth.

“I understand.” He stated calmly before retraining his gaze back into the distance. 

You both kept standing next to each other in silence for a long while before you decided to confront him about it directly. You eventually decided it was for the best if you got things off your chest now so that you could get over him quickly. Ripping it off like a band-aid would hopefully give you the relief you so desperately craved right now.

“You know,” you began. “I don’t know who came up with the idea and I also don’t care, no need to tell me. But you guys should never do this to anyone again because you never know how much it might end up hurting someone else’s feelings.”

Alhaitham stood upright and turned to face you directly. He crossed his arms over his chest and slightly cocked his head like he always did when he was thinking about something you said.

After a momentary pause, he asked: “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you shouldn’t toy with someone’s feelings as a prank. It’s never actually funny for anyone but the people who orchestrate such a prank. No matter if the other person reciprocates the feelings or whether they believe the statement, they always end up being the one who is being ridiculed.” You explained as rationally as possible, which was a stark contrast to the tempest that was raging both inside of your heart and mind.

“Especially when the person hoped to hear those exact words for the longest time, too…” You added. It wasn't more than an utterance under your breath - so quietly it was barely audible. But Alhaitham heard nonetheless.

“But I meant everything I said.” He stated matter of factly, seemingly catching on to the fact that you must’ve assumed the wrong things about the whole situation.

“What?! Alhaitham, please, there is no need to add insult to injury. You had your fun now–”

“No.” He gently took your hands in his, exhaling heavily. “Archons, you weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

He rarely swore which made the impact of his words even stronger.

“I wanted to tell you face to face and was waiting for the right moment to do so. But, just know that every word you heard and everything I said back at the tavern was the truth. No bet or scheme made me say it. Not that anyone would be able to make me say these things in the first place.” He sighed once more, giving your hands an emphasizing squeeze. “I meant it.”

“You did?”

“Every word.”

You felt the blood rush to your face and immediately lowered your gaze in an attempt to hide your flusteredness.

“Had I known this would happen, I would’ve told you everything right from the start. I don’t like how this went now but–”, he moved his hands up to cup your face. His beautiful turquoise eyes trained on no one but you. 

“I’m absolutely certain I like you. You drive me crazy. And I love and hate how much you occupy every waking thought of mine because I can’t focus on anything when you’re around. And when you’re not, you’re still always on my mind. So please – be mine.”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[mysticalsoot]

reconciliation and forgiveness

part 2 of 'peer pressure and canned beer' // bs au

➸ note; so- it's not Halloween themed but it is a fic I've been procrastinating finishing for five months (basically no motivation for it-) but it's now complete and I have some more wips for this au that I'm working on!! i couldn't keep it to myself any longer so- yeah here I am!! also!! please let me know if you want to be added to the bs au taglist or my main taglist

➸ pairing; bs!au wilbur gold/soot x gn!reader

➸ summary; after convincing from your other crew trainer and a couple weeks of a break; you finally decide to talk it out with wilbur on what happened that night (can be read as standalone but context from part 1 would be good as well!)

➸ warning; angst, hurt/comfort, I easily forgive Wilbur, that's my own problem, kissing, mentions of being drunk/hungover, probably swearing, tension but not good tension

➸ age-rating; 15+

➸ wordcount; 2.9k

part 1

main masterlist

---

Your hope somehow turned into a manifestation, and thankfully, Wilbur got stuck in sickbay--after Grace had dragged him there, of course following a very very long drawn out lecture that he most definitely deserved. You wanted to lay in bed and rot, you didn't want to talk to anyone, speak a single word or even open your eyes. You managed to get away with that for the first half of the day, and you hummed when you felt the bed dip beside you. Your dad was here.

"Kiddo.. how are you feeling?" You open your eyes, watching as his lips curl into a solemn smile.

"I'm not the one with a hangover." Your tone is flat and dry, you could care less for inflection at this moment. You'd rather be left alone to wither away to dust, but your dad is insistent. He isn't going to let go, he'll want to be there for you, and he always has.

"Yeah, well, when he's out of sickbay I'm going to have a talk with him and then his parents," He pats your knee, sighing before looking down and folding his hands in his lap.

"Is he.." Your voice falters as you take a deep breath and curl onto your side, "Will he get in trouble?"

Your dad shrugs, looks over at you and let's a soft smile curl on his lips before speaking, "A bit. He did break curfew, sneak out and consume alcohol. But I do know him, and I know it wasn't his idea. I'm not going to punish him as if it was his idea."

"You know it was- It was them, right?" Your father nods at your inquiry.

"It was obvious that it was, this isn't the first time they've pulled such a thing," he pauses, thinking for a moment, he rubs your hair and then sighs, “I think you should go ahead to breakfast, yeah?”

He stands up, nodding at you, bidding to see you later before leaving the room. You groan in annoyance before standing up and heading to your dorm to change. It doesn't take you longer than a few minutes to do so, not bothering with your hair before shutting your dorm door and hurrying down the stairs.

It's a Saturday morning, at least lucky for you. And perhaps for Wil too. He stays in sickbay and doesn't miss any classes. You don't have any classes to attend and you can just flee back to your room to rot, like you intended to.

Your mind sort of shuts down on the walk over to the cafeteria, numb of thoughts and feelings as your eyes drop carelessly. It's relatively bare of students, which isn't a surprise for eight in the morning on a Saturday, most kids wake up around nine or ten and don't bother to eat until lunchtime.

Unlucky for you, you're a morning bird and so is Andy. So even if you didn't sleep in his and your father's dorm, you'd still wake up to have breakfast with him.

The moment you step into line, grabbing your tray after you sanitized your hands, your mind then fell to thoughts of Wil. Mornings where you'd both stand in line and talking about everything and nothing while grabbing your food and sitting down together. Laughing and smiling and going about your days together. Something you can't quite do now, and you aren't sure if you even want to. Do you even want to be around him?

It's a valid question that you asked yourself, although you're sure in a week you'll have forgiven him and forgotten about last night. But for the moment, you feel more hurt and angry than he's ever made you. Maybe it's the fact he let himself get pressured, or maybe it's that he didn't stop May from kissing him or the words he used when you tried to help him. It was probably a combination of things, but lucky for him you can't seem to be angry at him for long.

Your tray fills up, or at least somewhat. The star hashbrowns and the pancakes shaped as moons seem to be your choice for the morning. You find a seat at your usual place, staring out the large windows and watching students and teachers walk by. Some museum guests too, admiring the newly remodeled Pathfinder. It only took them four or so years to get it fixed, so might as well admire their work.

What feels like miliseconds but was probably minutes passes by, and Andy fits a seat in front of you, smiling softly with almost a hint of sadness to it.

"How are you feeling?" He speaks so gently, like you were a kicked puppy completely incapable of doing anything.

"Why do people keep fucking asking me that? I'm fucking fine," You seethe, and you catch a glimpse of Andy almost flinching and then his mouth curves down into a frown, "Sorry," you mumble the simple apology, looking down and sighing.

"I'm just worried about you, kiddo. Y'know? We all are," He almost reaches forward to rest his hand on yours, but he holds back realizing it may not be the best idea. Words will simply have to do.

"Everyone heard, huh?" you scoff, rolling your eyes at the thought as you mess with your pancakes, not bothering to eat them quite yet.

Andy nods gingerly, "The whole floor probably."

"That's my fault, I shouldn't have provoked a drunk guy," you put down your fork, glancing up at Andy as he gazes at you, worry etched on his features.

"It's no one's fault, okay? It happened and things will be handled accordingly. Your father and I have a meeting with Evan and Cati, and the trainers for that other team. Hopefully we'll come to an agreement on what happened before we get leadership involved," He takes a bite of his own food after speaking, hoping that it'll somehow indirectly encourage you to eat. It's worked before, so why not now?

"Keep dad in check for me, yeah?" A soft smirk plays on your lips at the thought, your dad can be decently protective of his kids and sometimes gets a bit heated. He's a good teacher though, and Ethan is the same way. Cati and Andy have a handful today.

"I'll do my best, lucky for me, he's short and easily containable," He pauses, sucking in a breath as his eyebrows raise, "Mostly."

He keeps quiet for a while, watching you every now and then as you slowly eat your breakfast. Your mind wanders where it shouldn't, dabbling in thoughts that should never see the light of day, but yet they do.

Thoughts and regrets bubble up, swirling together in a dangerous concoction. Maybe you should have just kept your mouth shut. Or perhaps it would've been best if you fought him on going. The mature thing to do is to talk to Wilbur, get it over with and come to a kind agreement. But what you want to do is never speak to him again. You know you're probably being overdramatic. That it isn't worth your breath to ponder over it or be so pissed off about the situation. It wastes more energy than it's worth. Yet you can't help it, you're hurt and you're angry and all you want to do is scream at the moment.

"You should go visit Wilbur, talk to him," Andy finally speaks up, his tray already taken care of and the team's teacher binder set in front of him.

"I don't think it's a good idea," A deep sigh slips past your lips as you chew on a hashbrown you grabbed a moment ago.

"You'll never know if you don't try," He pauses, hesitating and thinking over whatever he has planned to say next, "It may be your last time to see him in person for a while. He's probably going to be suspended."

You weigh the thought in your mind, considering his words and your own thoughts and worries. It takes you a few minutes before you nod, surrendering, "Okay, fine," you let out a gentle breath, playing with your food again.

Andy smiles, nodding before standing up and taking his binder with him. He begins to walk away before stopping beside you, resting his hand on your shoulder to encourage you to meet his eyes. You do.

"I love you, kiddo. Remember that," His lips curve up softly, a warm smile meant for you. The intention meant to solidify his words. He loves you, and you're thankful of that.

"I know," you smile softly, nodding as you keep your gaze up at him, "I love you too."

He nods again, patting your shoulder before walking away and then you're left with your thoughts yet again. Letting them run wild won't do you much good, even if wallowing and rotting seems the most appealing, it isn't the best plan of action. So you take a deep breath, and stand up, walking over to take care of your tray. You run your fingers over the concrete walls, letting your mind numb itself for the walk over to sick bay.

You pray and hope this isn't a bad idea, that Wilbur won't be against seeing you. That he won't view you in the way he seemed to last night. That he'll hear you out for once and perhaps rectify what he messed up. You have responsibility in the matter as well, and you have every plan to apologize yourself. Where you can, at the least.

It's fall now, the chilly air filling your lungs and what leaves have changed now fall from selective trees. Alabama Octobers are like that, selective in its weather and what leaves fall, and what trees turn. But it's nice, it's relaxing and it gives something different even if it's annoying.

You pass underneath the Pathfinder, gazing up at it as you venture through the courtyard it's placed in. There's not many students out today, or at this hour at the least. But a few wander the campus, speaking amongst one another. A few couples make out behind bushes or behind aircraft. You turn into the covered opening, pushing the door open and entering sick bay.

A younger nurse sits at the desk and looks up at you, "What can I do for you, hun?" Her smile is sweet and soft, it's welcoming and she seems decently spry for how early it is.

"I'm here to visit Wilbur Gold?" Your voice lilts at the end, raising in question as you fidget with your fingers.

"He's over there, bunk two," she smiles and nods and you make your way over, knocking on the walls separating the bunk areas.

"Hi," you whisper, eyes glancing down at Wilbur where he sits on the bottom bunk. He looks up at you, eyes widening in a combination of shock and worry.

"Hey," he mumbles in return, putting down the textbook he had in hand and shutting it.

You hold your breath for a moment, mind wandering for a few more seconds as you wonder what to say and then it slips out, "I'm sorry, about last night."

You step into the small bunk room, fingers wringing together and tapping your fingertips together. He shakes his head, a wry laugh let out at your words.

"It's not your fault," 

You stop him short, "but I did antagonize you."

For some reason that you cant quite place, you don't have it in you to be angry, and instead you're just in a state of guilt. You should have stopped him from going, even if it wasn't your job to protect him.

"So? I was the drunk asshole who kissed another girl. I'm sorry, y/n. It's my fault." He pats the spot beside him, pulling his legs up against his chest to make room for you on the small bunk.

You keep quiet, not sure what else to say as you take a seat on the other side of the bunk, keeping your gaze on the wall. Wilbur mirrors your silence, chewing on his lip, his eyes boring into the side of your face.

"I'm only getting a two week suspension," he finally breaks the silence, trying desperately to grasp at something, anything with you.

You nod softly, taking in a deep breath, you turn to him yet don't make eye contact, "Good," you stop again, standing and beginning to walk out.

"I forgive you, but- I need a bit. if that's okay?" You step through the doorway, over the threshold and turn the corner. Wilbur doesn't respond, he just lets the vacant sound of your footsteps retreating out of sickbay.

He doesn't know what he'll do with himself when he's gone, yet he's sure some wallowing will be involved.

You, on the other hand, spend the rest of the day hiding away in the Davidson center. Wilbur is on the other side of campus, packing for his two week suspension back at home. You're sure his parents had a few colorful words for him once they were called and that you were right about. His father had more things to say than his mom, of anything his dad wasn't as aware as her on how susceptible Wilbur could be to peer pressure. Wil wasn't sure if his dad even knew him anymore, and sometimes you wonder if you would have felt the same, if your dad hadn't adopted you. Maybe Charlie feels that way.

You kept to yourself for the following two weeks, talking with your sister and some of your friends but mostly keeping to yourself. You spend so much time to yourself that you're ahead with your work, which isn't too out of the picture since you mostly are on track but with the extra time to yourself; you get ahead.

As usual, your dad is proud of you, showing that outwardly but also keeping his worries to himself, watching you closely and almost acting as if you'll break if he breathes too hard. And maybe you will, you're not even sure yourself. 

Sometimes you feel like a live fuse, ready to burn and implode, but other times you just feel numb, unsure on how to process things. Yet as the day he comes back crawls closer, you find yourself growing at peace with your situation, still missing him but almost forgiving him through his absence. You kept in contact with him, but it was far and few between given your schedule with school and him sort of being a bit grounded. He did explain that was his father's doing, it made sense to you how it was.

You woke up that morning, reaching for your phone just to see the excited messages he left for you. How he was finally looking forward to seeing you again, and the plans he had for you both.

You knew he had apologies attached and that he only wanted to mutter them in person, for that, you were thankful.

You managed to go about your day quietly, tidying up your bunk before heading over to the library on campus, returning a few books you borrowed for a project, and then walking back over to the main museum. Wandering through the halls and exhibits, admiring them as if you don't pass by them hundreds of times a day. It kept your mind off everything.

Somewhere between them and now, you'd walked back to your dorm, turning into the room only to see Wilbur unpacking. You stop in the doorway, watching him make his bunk and put away his bags.

"Hey, Wil," you finally speak up, greeting him and he immediately turns to face you, smiling happily at you.

"Hey," he whispers, walking over to you and offering a hug, which you gratefully take, falling into his arms and hugging him tightly around his waist.

"I'm glad you're back," you mumble against his chest, holding yourself tighter against him, reveling in his warmth; something you didnt realize you missed so much.

"Me too," he breathes, kissing your cheek before pulling back to look down at you, "I'm sorry, genuinely. I shouldn't have let her kiss me, and I sure as hell shouldn't have snapped at you how I did. You didn't deserve any of that, and so I'm sorry."

a small smile creeps up on your lips as he speaks, rambling at a speed faster than what should be humanly possible. so once he takes a breath, you lean up to press your lips to his, letting his mold to yours as you kiss one another, the exchange beginning to build in tension. he holds his hands on your hips, pulling you flush against him as you reach your fingers to sift through the curls on the back of his head. soft whimpers and hums are shared between your mouths, his grip getting tighter as you lift yourself higher on your toes.

you take a few more moments before you both decide to break for breath, eyes meeting before you both smile and laugh, "so, am I forgiven?" he whispers against your lips, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth before swiping his thumbs over your hip bones.

"mmm.. yeah, I think so," you giggle, standing back flat on your feet before you begin to tug him towards the door.

"where are you taking me?" he speaks through soft laughs, quite happy with how things turned out, even if he got his ass handed to him.

"our spot."

he smiles at the mention, nodding as you drag him away; most likely to make out. regardless, you're both happy with how things turned out and are sure to move forward from here. you forgave him, so all that needs to happen is for him to forgive himself.

main taglist; @lcvejoy @lillylvjy @ella-fella-bo-bella @lotusanonymouse @willgoldszn @whos-nicooo @zebonos

bs au taglist; @lillylvjy @lyssys

(send an ask to be added to either list!!)

[darkkitty1208]

The past few weeks before I finally returned from my unofficial hiatus, I've lost a lot of my motivation to write and anything to do with being part of the fandom as a whole. I contemplated quitting and never returning again, deleting all my works and socials and any other trace of me anyone could find, but I know that it's just the anxiety talking and my brain playing tricks with me due to IRL stress and that logically, I *do* have a place here in the fandom space. So I held back.

Now that I'm here again -- and have been welcomed very warmly by dear friends -- the urge to create has finally come around again and I want to get back into writing. It's just that, god, I feel very rusty. It's been quite a while and I feel like the words have run away from me after not using them for so long. I look into my mostly-abandoned WIPs and I can't find the right way to continue them.

But despite that, I decided to do a bit of the good ol' self-projecting and started a WIP (instead of finishing my old ones, lol). It's not much, but it's something. I felt compelled to share in hopes it would motivate me to write some more. This is all I've got so far, and it is admittedly very rough, but it's getting there.

~

Here’s the thing: healing isn't linear.

These are words repeated over and over again by those who you wouldn't think ever even had to heal. They're the kind of words that would lose its meaning the more they're said, and have you start wondering if to some people, they ever had any sort of meaning to begin with.

You can never really tell where it starts or where it finishes, or how it happened or if it ever did happen, the same way the flawed five stages of grief could never explain the true act of mourning and the same way your every emotion defies anything your logic could ever tell you.

Sometimes, Stephen finds, some things are just unexplainable like that.

Sometimes, Stephen doesn't think he's capable of healing. Sometimes, especially in nights where every bit of his sanity starts to fall apart and each choking breath would sting as it enters his damned lungs, he thinks he's too far gone to be capable of it at all.

(Sometimes he would sit silently and stare into nothing, thinking about the way nobody would understand that at some point in his life, he wasn't the man he used to be anymore. Sometimes he could feel it, the thing that consumed him, that took away who he was, and the way it would take up every space in his ribcage and burn his insides like acid, the way it would rip apart the space in his chest where his heart used to be. Sometimes he would think about it, and the way that it makes him nothing but an empty shell of a man. Every day that thing would grow inside of him and one day, it might ruin him; as if he isn't already far too broken to begin with.)

But it's here, in the roof of a sentient building he's grown to call his home where various pots are neatly arranged in small shelves, with his trembling fingers digging into rich soil and dirt sticking underneath his fingernails, that he starts to find proof that maybe, he had the capability after all.

It's here that he understands why humans would pick up a trowel and spend so much time getting on their hands and knees to dirty themselves with grimes of dirt.

There's something about the green of the Earth and the smell of her moist dirt in the early mornings, damp from the moon's tears, that soothes a part of him that he couldn't quite identify. There's something comforting about the mindless action of digging and burying and placing and watering. There's something comforting about knowing that his damaged fingers could sprout life even if it all depended on time.

But that's the thing, isn't it? Everything is just a matter of time.

(Sometimes he wishes healing isn't linear, the way he wishes time doesn't march on an ascending line.)

He remembers the same damp smell of moss and the same smudges of dirt on the knees of his trousers back then, the first time he was taught about gardening and farming and sprouting life from seeds.

He had still been a small boy in Nebraska, back then. He had been young, and he had never understood patience the way he does now. He didn't understand that what he planted was something that, if anything, was considered a miracle, and that miracles took time, and that miracles don't last forever. He didn't understand that life and decay is just a matter of time, and that everything including himself would eventually be nothing but rotting flesh and cracked bones, becoming one with the earth and consumed by the maggots and mushrooms.

Because that's the thing: everything is just a matter of time.

The experience had meant nothing to him then, and had taught him nothing much of anything at all, but it means something to him now.

[crackinthecup]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

@gardensofthemoon thank you so much for the tag! It was super interesting reading your responses :D <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 51

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 465,678

3. What fandoms do you write for? Bold to assume I write at all I've always mainly just written for the Silm BUT I have recently become obsessed with The Locked Tomb series so miiiiiiight do some writing in that universe. At some point. Maybe.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Yield to the Moment takes the cake here, which is not surprising given that it's a 300k Angbang modern AU slowburn beast of a fic.

Then we've got Strange New World, set in my Swords 'verse, which takes a look at Melkor and Mairon post-Dagor Dagorath through a mental health-y and relationship/character study lens.

Third up is A bond once called fealty, also in the Swords 'verse.

Then there's The Metal Cage, which is shameless Angbang PWP focused on chastity play.

And finally A quiet sort of introspection, also part of the Swords 'verse, a bit experimental in the sense of taking Melkor's POV in second person.

5. Do you respond to comments? Always! I feel it's only fair if someone's taken the time to share their thoughts with me. Plus it's often such a fun, creative space where you get to bounce around ideas with the commenter.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Not entirely sure, actually. Don't think I tend to write particularly angsty endings. No Other Choice, maybe? It's about the Fëanorian attack on the Havens and the choice Elwing makes when she jumps into the sea.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably YTTM. I'm pretty pleased with the ending actually; feels like it pulls together a bunch of narrative threads and highlights all the amazing growth the characters have done. Also, it's a wedding at the end of a very long, very bumpy slowburn.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I have, yeah, years and years ago, around an abusive take on Angbang; but generally I find that the Silm fandom is very lovely and very welcoming.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do! Quite a lot of it haha. I think, for me, the appeal isn't so much the physical act in and of itself, but what's going on for the characters behind the scenes as it were, emotionally/psychologically. Especially with a ship like Angbang where they spectacularly fail at talking to each other so a lot of juicy unspoken stuff gets acted out through physical intimacy.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Nope, never written a crossover, nor do they hold much appeal for me personally.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I have. Sadly those fics had been written around 2015-16 and I deleted them a few years back at a time when my mental health was... spicy. I couldn't say whether the translations are still out there somewhere.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yep! YTTM started out as a co-write.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Angbang. There's just a lot of layers to their dynamic that scratch an itch in my brain. Power imbalance. Fucked-up-ness. Possessiveness/protectiveness. Worship. Loyalty.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I've got a WIP from almost ten years ago about Celebrimbor in Gondolin and I'm not sure if the interest/time/motivation is still there for me to ever pick it up again :')

16. What are your writing strengths? Hmm I tend to put a fair amount of thought into characters' emotional experiences and I also enjoy playing around with fun ways to describe things.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I guess there's a flipside to focusing on emotional experiences in that sometimes I might humanise characters like the Ainur too much and lose some of their eldritchness. I also tend to be quite disorganised with my plotting, and by disorganised I mean that I just sit down and start writing without a plan or outline and sometimes I can end up scrambling to tie everything together and make it make sense and I'm not sure how effective that is. Also also, I don't find endings very easy to come up with.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Sure, if done purposefully in a way that furthers the plot or tells me something about the characters.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter, I think! Those fics are not on the internet anymore and that is probably for the best haha.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Ohhh see, I don't actually like my own writing very much (cheers, perfectionism) and I very very rarely re-read it. But I do think some bits in YTTM are fun, and my latest ficcy that I've written (Reason to Try) which is a ficcy of @tarmairons' ficcy kinda shifted something in my brain for the better and I revisit it sometimes on bad mental health days.

Let's see which lovely people to tag: @markedasinfernal, @elevenelvenswords, @undercat-overdog, @lvsifer, @foxindarkness and anyone else who sees this and would like to have a go (if you want to! zero pressure)

[jaelijn]

Fic Writer 2023 Review

Based on this. I always want to do annual reviews but then don't get around to them and then it feels weird doing them in February, so here we go for once. Under a cut because long (There's 30 things and I ramble. Not sorry.).

1. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again?

I suppose that I wrote a fic from Blake's POV counts. I didn't have a big plan for trying something new for Whumptober this year, but I always find myself doing it because everything starts to feel stale if you write 30 fics in so short a timeframe. So the POV was supposed to be what I tried with that fic, but the fic got away from me a bit, so in retrospect the unusual (for me) POV feels comparatively insignificant. There was also more Jenna this year - I think I'm getting there, so yes.

2. How many fics did you work on this year? (They don’t have to be finished or published!)

I have no idea. I have a very long list of WiPs that I am sure I have added a sentence or two across the year, or maybe I just opened them, fixed a few typos and closed them again, and then I have a few handwritten things that I haven't typed up yet. But *at least* it's 35 published things (31 of which are Whumptobers) and the longfic, so 36. Put like that, it sounds terribly prolific.

3. What’s something you learned about yourself as a writer?

I enjoy creating without expectation - immersing myself in the longfic with no idea when it will be done or how long it will get was terribly freeing. The downside is that I also realised that I'm not really intrinsicly motivated to post and share anymore, or at least that thought generates no positive pressure at all because scales. It would be really easy for me to never post another fic right now, but I'm not stopping writing.

4. What piece of media inspired you the most?

Always and ever, Blake's 7. There's nothing else that makes me want to write right now.

5. What fandom(s) did you write for this year?

Accordingly: Blake's 7

6. What ship(s) captured your heart?

Avon/Vila. Though they had me already.

7. What character(s) captured your heart?

See above.

8. Did you write for a new fandom or ship this year?

No. Since a lot of my writing, Whumptober aside, went into the longfic, I didn't do much experimenting - not even during Whumptober, really.

9. What fic meant the most to you to write?

Longfic aside, because as ongoing project that obviously matters, possibly Wet Towels, because it feels like I nailed a tonal direction I want to go in with my Avon/Vila.

10. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

By far, the longfic. Some of the Whumptobers were just the right kind of painful, but the most joy creating - yes, the longfic.

11. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

Impending Destiny. I know I keep harping on about this fic, and maybe I'm the only one who thinks it's the best oneshot I've written this year and everyone else hates it, but it was so intense to write and so satisfying.

12. What fic was the most difficult to write? Did you finish it?

I did a few "second takes" on Whumptober this year, so I guess those and no, but then again the second take wasn't difficult, I just wasn't happy with the first and haven't touched those since. Fic I stuck with, possibly either Ghastly Aftermath, because ouch (it's difficult to write while you're crying at your own writing, all right?) , or Mistaken Trust because the final scenes were difficult to get right.

13. What fic was the easiest to write?

Nothing strikes me as particularly easier than the rest, really, but then what published writing I've done has been mostly in my comfort zone either way. So I guess all of the ones that weren't difficult?

14. What were your shortest and longest fics this year?

With Every Single Kiss has literal drabbles, so that, though all of the drabbles together are longer than my shortest oneshot. Longest is the ongoing longfic (duh) currently sitting at approx. 91k.

15. Rec a fic you wrote or posted in 2023

I am once again begging you to read Impending Destiny, lol. But if that isn't you're cup of tea, try Mistaken Trust or Spun Gold.

16. What were you go-to writing songs?

I didn't have many, this year. There's usually at least one or two, but I had a weird year with music, I feel, with few new songs that I really fell in love with, so there's been lots of playlists on shuffle and there's no song I could point to.

17. What were your go-to writing snacks?

I don't really snack when I write for fun, and I've had to cut down on my chocolate intake, so unless it's a chocolate praline, none.

18. What was the hardest fic to title?

Is "all of them" an answer that's allowed? I guess I could say Free Fall, not because of the fic, but because it was the first Whumptober and I was trying to figure out the "title format" for the rest of the Whumptobers. (I don't know if anyone has noticed that the Whumptobers have had title formats for three years now, but either way...) Other than that, the no-longer-so-untitled longfic was the one I put most thought into titling, but I'm not telling yet.

19. Share your favorite opening line

So... the thing about Whumptober is that it makes you *incredibly aware* of opening lines, or the format of opening lines. I try not to start all of them the same way, but I also tend to... slip into self-referential facetiousness doing that, in that all of them become funny when considered side by side.

I suppose "Avon was high." and "When the rebel forces of Carin IX finally managed to fish Avon out of the river, he was drenched to the bone." still amuse me (Spun Gold and Wet Towels, respectively).

20. Share your favorite ending line

Now I have to open all of them again, haha! Uh, let's do a not-Whumptober for once:

But lying curled up in the embrace of his most trusted companion, his link with and buffer against the world, Avon sometimes wondered whether it had been a curse at all. (The Price, from R&F #7)

21. Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Uh... spoiler for Impending Destiny, but I keep it vague and not post the whole thing?

“Whoever said that love is the most powerful force in the universe was a bloody liar,” Avon spat, “or a colossal fool. [....]"

22. Share an excerpt from your favorite scene

Oh for... just... just read Impending Destiny, okay?

23. Share the final version of a sentence or paragraph you struggled with. What about it was challenging? Are you happy with how it turned out?

Oof, I guess the final lines of Mistaken Trust. It would have been so easy to just let them hug and kiss but Avon resisted and once that line was there I had to do something with it that didn't feel unkind to Vila in a plot that... wasn't kind to Vila. I think I managed the balance and once Avon had said no I didn't want to go back to the easy ending, but it wasn't easy to get right.

24. What’s something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

... Impending Destiny. It was supposed to be a fix-it fic!!! It's... not a fix-it anymore. The shift was so striking that I made a tumblr post about it.

25. What did you use to write? (e.g. writing programs, paper & pen, etc.)

Word and paper & pen, very occasionally a note app on my phone. All of the Whumptobers had a paper version before I typed them, but I've only written snippets of the longfic on paper. I enjoy not writing at a screen every now and then, but it *is* slower.

26. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

I don't know, because my writing has been so unevenly balanced (very slow but steady progress for most of the year and A LOT of writing in September/October). I suppose finishing the Whumptobers again? Or perhaps when I realised that the longfic was going to be longer than BDaS without it feeling forced.

27. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

No. Once the longfic is done, maybe I will.

28. How did you recharge between fics?

Recharge? What's that? Or rather: between fics? What's that? Hahah.

I know what I would have *liked* to do, which is read a fanfic once in a while, but there's not much new out there to my taste these days. I guess watching other shows counts. I have resorted to rewatching B7 as final measure.

29. If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

The numerous people who kudosed, the few people who commented, @oxideblack for the incredible art and for the appreciation of my fics from their circle of fans, @quordleona03 for the inspiration, and @comarum and @foreignobjecticus who know why.

What’s something that you want to write in 2024?

Ah, it would be nice to finish the longfic this coming year. But I'm not making any plans. With how I feel about the sharing & posting, I'm counting it as a win if I don't lose my motivation entirely.

[loganofthenorth]

Me: Alright, everything's quiet, my physical needs have been taken care of, I want to write, and brain rot about my OCs isn't in the way. Let's get to work!

ADHD toddler that lives in my head: Give me five good reasons why we should work on the work in progress

Me: 1. We get positive feedback when we update this story, which really benefits our mental health, self esteem, and motivation to write other things

2. We ended the WIP on a cliffhanger last time we updated it and it needs to be resolved

3. There is no reason not to work on the WIP

4. Autism- *points at the Autistic hermit sitting next to me*

Autistic hermit: *waves while reading a Sanders Sides transcript, a book about dolphins, and an article about clementines*

Me: - needs a routine to function, and this is a big part of that

And 5. We are fortunate enough to have parents willing to support us so that we can make writing our full time career. If we don't actually write, those two- *points at Anxiety and Depression*

Anxiety: *pacing around with a list of problems to resolve in our projects and muttering about our lack of productivity lately even though we've been productive just in other ways*

Depression: *sleeping and not bothering us because we have enough dopamine from earlier mentioned comments and interactions on Tumblr to keep them at bay for the most part*

Me: - will make life harder for us by making me feel bad for wasting that support.

ADHD Toddler: 1. Yes, that's true, but if we keep writing the WIP I'll get sick of it and want nothing to do with it anymore

Me: But we're almost done, we only have a few chapters left.

ADHD Toddler: 2. We updated that, like, two days ago? Three days? Idk how time works. Days have just felt like weeks lately for some reason so it just feels like a long time when it isn't. They can wait. Also- *gets distracted by a squirrel*

Me: Are you done?

ADHD Toddler: Huh? Oh, right...

Me: ...

ADHD Toddler: ...

Me: Well?

ADHD Toddler: What was I saying?

Me: You said people can wait for a cliffhanger, then had another point.

ADHD Toddler: Oh, right. So, these people watch Sanders Sides, right? They're used to waiting like six months or lately more than a year for the next important chapter.

Autistic Hermit: Huh...

ADHD Toddler: 3. I gave you a reason when addressing your first point, we'll get sick of it if we don't work on other things too.

Autistic Hermit: They're... Actually using really good logic...

Me: I know, it's terrifying

ADHD Toddler: 4. Routine smoutine. I'd rather have poutine.

Autistic Hermit: There it is

Me: Yep...

ADHD Toddler: And, finally... *gets distracted by a lightbulb*

Anxiety: Whelp that's it we've spent an entire hour doing absolutely nothing, we're clearly not getting any work done tonight

Me: *sighs* ADHD, if I let you say your last point, will you let me work?

ADHD Toddler: Huh? What last point?

Me: Never mind. We're going to write a really cool story now, okay?

ADHD Toddler: Okay!

Me: *gets my IPad*

ADHD Toddler: This was fun, you should post it on Tumblr.

Me: Oh yeah sure!

ADHD Toddler: Oh, right! I remembered! 5. I don't see why you think you've wasted their support by not writing all the time. Last year you wrote, edited, designed a cover for, and self published a novel of your own in one year. While doing that, you also balanced friendships, worked on your mental health, wrote like, what, three full fan novels and are about to finish another one? Not to mention all the unfinished fan fics you have that made people happy, and all the role plays which might as well be novels. Just because you're not making money yet, and you're not writing every day, doesn't mean you're wasting the support you were given.

Me: ...

Autistic Hermit: Who the hell have you been talking to? Where has all this logic come from?

ADHD Toddler: We're hyper fixated on Sanders Sides

Autistic Hermit: Fair enough

ADHD Toddler: *gasps* What if we like, made our own you tube series but like, instead of aspects of the personality like Sanders Sides it's our different disabilities?

Autistic Hermit: You thought about that before

Anxiety: We don't have the same resources Thomas Sanders has to make it professional

Autistic Hermit: Like a *shudders* team of people to work with

Anxiety: *also shudders* Or space of our own to film in

Depression: *murmurs* Or the motivation to keep dedicated to that for long...

Autistic Hermit: Or the cameras, lighting, sound equipment, video editing skills, ability to make a polished costume,

Anxiety: we can't mask Autism's traits long enough to get a good recording

Depression: *murmurs* And we don't fit conventional beauty standards enough to do well in a video based algorithm...

ADHD Toddler: I guess we'll just have to find another way to make a series that gets us a fandom one day... You know, since the book we wrote didn't get immediate results so now I'm being petty.

Autistic Hermit: Our book series is a long term project. It will get more recognition as we continue to publish the series.

Anxiety: It would get more recognition if we made more adds

ADHD Toddler: But why make Tik Toks no one interacts with but two hundred people see when we could make Tumblr posts that no one sees but two people interact a lot with?

Me: *sighs* This is getting us no where

Anxiety: Stop typing on Tumblr and get to work or we might lose our ability to work forever

Autistic Hermit: But that doesn't make sense. We've gone a long time without writing before

Depression: *murmurs* We did get a lot worse at writing after that though...

Me: I think that's more because ADHD got worse during that time so writing became harder

ADHD Toddler: Yeah

Anxiety: *scoffs* At least they admit it

Me: Anywho, I'm tagging this now, clicking post, and then we will work on our WIP. My apologies mutuals for the long post.

[there-is-just-me-myself-and-i]

My concert report: Blind Channel – Sick & Dangerous European Tour 2022 – Nürnberg (04.09.2022)

So as I am writing this it is 02:42 in the morning, and I should probably be asleep because I will do this whole thing again in munich tonight. But I can’t sleep, I promised @another-sun this report (btw thank you so much you actually helped me so much aswell with my concert), and I think I have to do this for myself aswell to actually process this whole concert. Really wtf was that…

So I have to mention the days leading to the concert, I was more and more nervous about something happening that would have prevented me from going. Like what if the person that goes with me can’t anymore, what if I get sick, what if they get sick, …. So when the day finally came yesterday I kind of couldn’t believe it, I still can’t to be honest…

On the drive to the concert which took like one and a half hours we listened to Blind Channel songs, and I ranted about my nervousness, and we talked about Blind Channel. The person coming with me wasn’t a big BC fan, but I kind of got her into the music. The funny thing was that when I told her about Joel’s love for Germany he sent that insta post where he mentioned he wanted to move here. Perfect timing Joel...

We were there at 5 in the afternoon, two hours before the doors opened, because of my crazy concert brain. The person who went with me didn’t want to sit there for so long so I went alone to join the already waiting fans. Because I didn’t want to stand there alone I tried to talk to the people before me, which happened to be two finish girls/woman and one girl/woman from the US. We didn’t really hit of but that was okay. While i was sitting there I also noticed how tall all the people there were, and panicked a bit, I also kind of felt out of place for some reason… When it was time for the doors to open for us not VIP people, there were some people that were there after us but kind of got in line in front of us which also was a bit frustrating…

But after I went into the venue my whole night changed. I somehow saw this space right in front/next to the stage on Joonas side of the stage. But it was also kind of weird because it was also an open way to walk behind the stage. (And I saw several band members from different bands in that hall during the night, also had some BC crewmembers walked past me, and I think some of the bandmembers of the two acts before Blind Channel also used that way to go to the merch stands, but I can’t say that for sure anymore) I also had a clear view of the backstage door on the other side of the stage (and I saw several band members from different bands standing there or walking past the door aswell. For example I saw Niko when Joonas did that story of him, I saw Tommi and Joonas walk past that door several times, and I am pretty sure I also saw a shirtless Joel walking past the door but again can’t be 100% sure about that) I asked the girl standing next to me if I she thought I was even allowed there and she said yes. There had been a similar set up at the show in Dresden apparently and there were also people standing there. We also talked a bit about moshpits, and stagediving, and I got some great advice about where to stand at my Electric Callboy concert in Leipzig next year.

Then Oceans came on stage. I actually haven’t really had the time/motivation to look into their stuff beforehand. And I kind of took their performance as my time to get used to standing where I stood. I have never been front row at a concert… But they were great, and I will definitely check out some more of their stuff.

Then after a break Lost Society came on, who I checked out before and liked, but also didn’t have the time to look into deeper. And that performance was just unbelievable… I sometimes caught myself standing there with eyes closed and kind of headbanging, or just wipping my head around to the beat, idk… And I swear Samy smiled at me several times, I think I even have that on video. So Lost Society you have definitely gained a fan now…

And last but not least Blind Channel. I don’t even know what I should say, or where to start. I waited for so long for this concert, and I was so worried about it, but this was so worth it. It was the best concert of my life. Seeing them up close was so surreal. They were all exactly like I saw them on videos before. Joel was smiling so much and I think kind of emotional at the end (I can’t remember for sure anymore). Aleksi did all that crazy stuff he usually does (and hearing him talk live just hits different). Then Joonas energetic self (I heard him scream stuff to the audience so often without microphone, his whole part of thank you for the pain, and again hearing him talk to the audience just hit differently). Olli was so intense (the stares, the moves,...) but also seemed really happy. I didn’t get much from Tommi sadly since there was always someone in the way but I screamed extra loud whenever he got on stage, and he is just sooooo tall. And him and Aleksi were just great together. And last but not least Niko…He was just sooo Niko…I really love them all…

Since I stood so close I kind of filmed a bit to much I guess. But there were also many songs were I didn’t, and I didn’t do every song fully (just one or two actually). But I just had to use the opportunity to get some memorys from them, and I really wanted to capture them all individually (well as individual as you can). I didn’t really get a good angle to capture them all at once I think.

I have to say again that this was the best concert of my life. I sung/screamed my soul out, I tried this headbanging thing, I jumped (I also filmed while jumping twice, really strange videos...), and I just enjoyed every second of it. I still can’t realize this whole thing has happened, and tonight I will definitely just enjoy seeing them without filming much. Probably wont get this view again anyways…

Some random facts in the end…

…There was this box thing right in front of me, which I leaned against often. And Samy from Lost Society stood on there, Aleksi stood on there more than once, Joel also did stand there, and Joonas as well. I really just could have touched them if I wanted to, they were so close… But I don’t like touching people that I don’t know personally, and I wouldn’t want someone to do that with me, so of course I didn’t. (I also have video proof of that, maybe I will just throw some pictures together in the next days)

…The security guy was great. He came to stand by that entrance thing to walk behind the stage when Lost Society came on. And he was just so nice and funny. Said things like „at least people are having fun“ when the crowed started singing along to everybody while waiting for BC. He was also really happy that it was so peaceful. But whenever someone stood on this box thing he had his hands on there as well, I guess to do something if people got to out of line. I am just really happy that I made his day easy tbh...

… Again I can’t get over Joonas and Aleksi talking live. I mean I heared them talk before but it just was so different live.

… I was really afraid of the moshpits before going into the venue and securing my safe spot. There were several girls saying they were going to push people in, and ramble about their injuries they got in them. I think I would have immediately panicked in there.

… I was also worried I will never be able to hear again after the concert, after some girl mentioned she had to put ear plugs in her ears for concerts like that because she almost became deaf from one concert. But my ears survived, and it wasn’t bad at all.

… And how the hell did Aleksi, Olli, Joel, Joonas and the Blind Channel account on instagram (so Joel again probobly) actually check out my storys on there. I actually tried to get them individually, because I just wanted to show my appreaciation I guess.

…And last but not least, I did not faint from the heat. I didn’t at all. Really happy about that. But it was the place where I stood I guess.

...Ohhh and Joonas and Niko had a little Timebomb moment at the end of the song. But they just stood together really, with Niko having his arm over Joonas shoulder.

[atlantis54]

2 3 19 and 21 for the writers asks!

2. well, at first, but after a while i think i'd just give up lmao. that plus i tend to be pretty disorganized so unless im keeping it in a folder or smthn that wip is going straight to the shadow realm /j

3. hmm... i guess it'd have to be having a brainrot about my wip ideas over the course of at least a few days and then losing all motivation when i actually sit down to try and make it real. it happens a lot-

21. probably not. ive been into writing since i was little, and its a hobby thats stuck to me for years, so having to quit something i enjoy doing so much sounds like a nightmare... that being said, im always welcome to take breaks from writing. a hiatus is fine but flat out quitting is a no

and finally, ask 19, which is really, really long, so ill just put it under a read more for the sake of everyone lmao

19. i started when i was really little. what age? cant remember. i had a very early love of reading and writing, so i decided to start writing stories! i originally started on paper, writing stories about whatever scenario came to mind. it didnt matter if i finished them or not, i still enjoyed it, yknow? however, the thing i loved most was making comics which combined my love of art and writing.

after a long while, i stopped with the random scenarios and started focusing more on developing coherent stories that were tied together. surprisingly, i didnt start writing online until i was around 8 or 9. it started in powerpoints of all things where i rambled about the ideas i had for my OCs and (again) random scenarios, as well as getting my friends to do roleplays. i still miss the pokemon rp me and my friends made in 3rd-4th grade ;w; good times

eventually, i moved on to the much more sensible word documents (this was when i was 9, 10 or 11 i think) where i began the creation of my Kirby fanon universe. the fanon lore that ive made for Kirby is probably the most headcanons ive ever had for anything (as Kirby was my first fandom), so this is like the beginning of a legend to me.

finally, i signed up for Fandom Wikia with the goal to share my stories with the internet. i began my migration all over the place, going from Fandom Wikia to Wattpad, then to Tumblr, then to Comic Studio, then BACK to Tumblr... its been a crazy ride. but no matter where i went i made sure to share my stories.

now, im trying to improve on my writing skills. upon rereading my older fanfics, i realized they were... well, not the best. currently, my writing to-do list is to finish the Daily Life section of my Danganronpa multiverse crossover fic, begin writing an idea for an owlbit fic, and to begin the rewrites of 2 of my older works. its a little daunting of a task, but im sure that i can do it! besides, my fanfics arent particularly popular (i only have 27 followers on wattpad rip) so i dont have to worry too much about people begging me to get on w/ the chapters heh

anyway, thank you for the ask! have a duck as an apology gift for having to read that big wall of text :D

he got the. hat

[triptuckers]

Fix her - Kaz Brekker

Request: nope Pairing:  kaz brekker x reader Summary:  kaz sent you out to gather information, and you always return on time with the intel he needs. well, maybe not always. Warnings: angst, language, mentions of BLOOD, BRUISES, INJURIES, typical soc stuff, slight six of crows and crooked kingdom spoilers Word count:  2.2K A/N: hello my darlings it is I and I have read almost every book leigh bardugo has written in the past month. I am now hopelessly in love with jesper, kaz and nikolai. I'll be updating my character list soon! I still have a few wips but I don’t have any motivation / inspiration for those. so have my first kaz brekker x reader instead! enjoy reading :)

It was a rather easy job, really. Kaz had received word that the Dime Lions had an important meeting coming up. Because he always wanted to know what exactly was going on in the Barrel and with its gangs, he wanted someone to listen in on said meeting.

Normally, he would send Inej. She was the obvious choice when it came to gathering information. But she was still recovering from a rather nasty cut in her side, and so you had offered to go.

Inej insisted she could go. But all it took was you raising your eyebrows when she moved to sit up, only to wince and flop back down onto the bed. Though he didn’t quite like it, Kaz had assigned you to the job. 

No one said it out loud, but everyone knew there was something between you and Kaz. Neither of you had spoken about it. There were just a lot of lingering glances, smiles from you and what you think was almost a smile from Kaz, and you even had stolen his coat once when you had lost your own. He didn’t seem to mind though.

When you had left that evening to listen to the Dime Lions meeting from the shadows, Kaz had sent you a look that you knew all too well. He reserved it only for you. It was him telling you to be safe. You’d respond with a wink that basically meant always am.

The rest of the crows started a card game to pass the time as they waited for you to come back. They didn’t worry, you were always careful and are considered one of the most dangerous criminals in Ketterdam. They knew whatever happened, you could handle yourself.

But after Jesper had lost four rounds of card games, the tension began to rise between them. Most meetings typically didn’t last this long. Still, no one said anything as they started their fifth game. You would show up eventually, probably bringing valuable insight with you.

After two more games, there was still no sign of you. Nina was the first one to speak up.

‘She should have been back by now.’ she says, absently looking out the window into the dark street. 

‘Have a little faith, Zenik.’ says Kaz, though on the inside he was filled with worry. He shook it off and focused on the game again.

More than once he’d scolded himself for allowing you to get this close to him. For putting so much trust in you, especially after what happened the last time he’d really trusted someone. But he couldn’t help it. It was like he was drawn to you like Jespers trigger finger was to his revolvers. He couldn’t help it.

Still, he knew your skills. He knew you were smart, and a fighter. Whatever was going on with you out there, he had no doubt you’d show up at the door in a few moments, cheerfully announcing what good intel you’d gathered and wondering how many card games you’d missed.

But you still didn’t show. And one by one, they all lost their interest in the card game. They fell silent and looked out the window or fiddled with their empty glasses. The tension in the room grew. Until Kaz suddenly stood.

‘Finish the game.’ he says. ‘I’ll go and look for her.’

‘I’ll come with you.’ says Jesper, getting up as well.

‘No.’ says Kaz, earning a frown from Jesper. ‘Just me.’ he says. And with that, he pulled on his coat, grabbed his cane and was out the door.

‘Right.’ says Jesper, sitting back down. ‘Anyone fancy another game? I have a feeling I’m gonna win this one.’

They played three more games. They were tired, and it was well past midnight. Still, none of them went upstairs to their rooms. Too anxious to play any more cards or to even have a normal conversation, they settled for silence and more drinks. 

Jesper was fiddling with his rings and bouncing his leg. Nina had her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands. Matthias was trying to not look at Nina. And Wylan was attempting to build a house out of the cards. 

Finally, they heard the sound of the door opening. All of their heads shot up and turned to look who it was. 

Kaz stumbles awkwardly through the door, carrying you in his arms. Nina gasps softly and Jesper murmurs ‘Saints’ as their eyes land on your body. 

It’s bruised and bloody, and your eyes are shut. Was Kaz too late?

‘Clear the table!’ says Kaz loudly, limping toward it with you in his arms. 

Instantly, Matthias and Jesper seize the glasses and cards off the table as Wylan pulls some of the chairs back to make room. Kaz lays your beaten up body on the table and turns to Nina.

‘Help her.’ says Kaz.

But Nina is looking at you body, bruised and bloodied, nothing like the cheerful girl that buys her waffles and laughs as she teases Matthias. It’s almost impossible to find a spot on your body that doesn’t have a wound on it. There’s slashes from knives everywhere, bruising around your neck and the side of your face, and to top it off, blood is slowly leaking out of a bullet wound in your leg.

An expression of horror is written across Nina’s face, her hands pressed against her mouth. 

‘Nina.’ Kaz presses on. ‘I said help her.’

‘Kaz, I don’t think-’ stammers Nina. ‘Come on, fix her!’ says Kaz loudly, surprised of how much anxiety can be heard in his voice. Fix her, he thinks, because I need her to fix me.

‘I can try but-’ ‘Do it.’ says Kaz and then he turns away, he can’t bear to look at you any longer. Memories of Jordie flood over him, mingled with memories of you. Your laugh, how he fights his own smile every time you wink at him or send a flirty comment his way, the way you smell. How you look at him when he catches your eyes. 

Kaz shuts his eyes, attempting to drown the memories out. Taking deep breaths, he tries to focus on the voices behind him.

‘Jesper get the bullet out of her leg.’ says Nina. 

‘Just pull it out?’ questions Jesper.

‘Saints, you’re Grisha, Jesper, pull the fucking bullet out!’ says Nina in a loud voice laced with fear.

After a while of listening to Nina’s murmuring and instructions to others, Kaz finally turns back around to look at you. A wave of nausea hits him unexpectedly and he swallows hard. 

Nina had treated most of the wounds, with Jesper’s help. But your entire body is still covered in bruises, and now bandages as well. Nina’s cleaned the dried blood off of your face, but your arms and legs are still covered with it. 

They’re all nervously looking at Kaz.

‘I don’t know if she’s going to-’

‘Don’t.’ says Kaz, interrupting her. He needed to think straight. He needed someone to help him focus. Normally, you’d be the one to do so. But you’re in no condition to softly talk to him to reassure him everything is going to be alright. He needed to be his own soothing voice tonight.

‘Matthias.’ he says. ‘Bring her up to my room. Nina, go with him, see if there’s anything else you can do for her. Jesper, get Inej up to speed. Wylan, clean this mess up before someone notices.’

Without waiting for their reactions, Kaz walks up the stairs to his floor. Several moments later, followed by Matthias, who is carrying you, and Nina and Jesper. Jesper disappears into Inej’ room, while Matthias and Nina continue to walk the stairs to get to Kaz’ floor. 

When they arrive, Matthias carefully places you on Kaz’ bed as he was instructed. For a while, the three of them look at you. Until Matthias and Nina go to their rooms as well, leaving Kaz alone with you.

None of them had questioned why he insisted Matthias brought you to his room and not your own. Of course, they were dying to find out exactly what was going on between you and Kaz, but they all knew tonight was not the night to push him.

As he looks at you, Kaz feels the strong urge to touch you. Lay his hand on your cheek, to see if it’s still warm. But he can’t. Instead, he merely pulls out a chair and sits down next to the bed. He lets his eyes travel over your body, wondering how much pain you’re in, and who the hell was responsible for it. 

He needed you to wake up. He needed you to tell him who did this so he could send his biggest most muscular members of the Dregs to them. Kaz wanted them to hurt the way they had hurt you. 

His mind is running at an alarming speed. But eventually, even Kaz can’t fight his tired body anymore, and he falls asleep in an uncomfortable position in his chair.

From that night on, he instructed that you shouldn’t be left alone. He doesn’t want you to wake up and realise you’re on your own. The next day, it’s business as usual. The members of the Dregs are coming and going like they always do. The familiar flow of people helps to take everyone’s mind off things, but as soon as they’re by your side, they remember. 

Nina had tried her best to heal you, but it still took you almost a week to wake up.

When you wake up, your first thought is that your entire body feels way heavier than it’s supposed to. You try to open your eyes but it’s like your eyelids are made of lead. After a couple more tries, you finally open them.

You take in the room, and realise it’s not your own. Kaz. 

Why would you be in Kaz’ room? Why aren’t you in your own room? And why does your body feel so damn heavy?

And then all of the memories flood back. Like a tsunami, they catch your breath in your throat, making it hard to breathe. You try to inhale deeply, but it’s like your throat is sealed shut. You start to panic when you notice you can’t breathe. 

Then a pair of hands land on your shoulders and gently push you back onto the bed. Whoever it is, is talking softly to you. You close your eyes and try to steady your breathing. 

Then the voice yells out, but from much farther away, like they’re standing in the doorway, and not next to the bed.

‘Kaz! Nina! Get up here!’

It’s Jesper. 

You try to ask him what’s going on, but it’s still hard to breath normally. You try to focus on something else. Jesper’s voice trying to calm you down, his eyes looking into yours, but nothing’s helping. 

Then you hear a sound you know all too well. A familiar stumbling, of someone walking up the stairs with a cane. 

Seconds later, Kaz rushes into the room and roughly shoves Jesper away, taking his place next to the bed.

‘Who did this to you?’ he says. 

His voice is that familiar rasp, and normally you love it. But now it just makes your head hurt. You shut your eyes and softly shake your head, trying to drown the sound out. 

‘Y/N, who did this to you?’ says Kaz, more firmly this time.

‘Kaz.’ says Nina’s voice. ‘Let her rest. You can talk later.’ Nina’s voice is softer, more gentle than Kaz’. You try to focus on it as you open your eyes again.

Kaz is close. He looks down at you and you’re surprised by the look in his eyes. Was that a hint of worry you detected? You open your mouth to say something, but Kaz is faster.

‘Y/N, tell me who did this to you.’ says Kaz.

‘Couldn’t see their faces.’ you manage to say in a hoarse voice. Your throat feels dry and you start to cough. Immediately, Nina moves to get you a glass of water and helps you to drink it. 

‘Did you notice the way they moved? How they walked? Were they Dime Lions? Could you see any tattoos? What about scars? Clothing? Voices?’

Kaz keeps on firing questions at you, but you can’t focus on his words. Your head feels heavy and you feel your eyelids slowly closing again. 

‘Kaz.’ you say softly. ‘Tomorrow.’ 

You expect him to press on, to find out who did this to you. But instead, he looks at you and holds your gaze. He doesn’t say anything, he merely nods at you. You know what it means. Despite his harsh voice and the million questions, he’s glad you’re safe. And the ones who did this to you will pay for it. He’ll make sure of it.

You offer a weak smile before closing your eyes, already drifting off. You hear two pairs of footsteps leave the room, and assume Nina stayed behind to check on you.

The chair next to you gets moved back and you hear how someone sits down in it. When you feel something brush against your fingers, you assume it’s Nina checking your pulse.

But then you feel a gloved thumb on the back of your hand. It slowly rubs over your skin. To most people it wouldn’t mean anything. But to you, it meant the world. A tiny smile reaches the corners of your mouth, as you fall asleep. 

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Jo

[iraprince]

this might not be something you personally have difficulty with, but i was recently diagnosed with severe adhd and i was wondering if you had any tips regarding just like….drawing?? i have such a hard time getting started even though i usually end up feeling pretty stoked and happy with my work if i manage to get something down. i used to draw constantly as a kid to help me focus in class, but in my adult life i just feel like there are so many invisible barriers between myself and putting pencil to paper. i’m sure there are a lot of perfectionism issues involved as well, so i guess just any sort of advice in any of those areas would be greatly appreciated! your work is fantastic and i’m really grateful that you share adhd stuff as well!! have a great day! :o)

i actually have a LOT of difficulty with this -- i have more difficulty than i have advice, probably! but my advice always ends up boiling down to the same thing lately, and it sounds really hokey but i mean it as literally as possible bc it's the only thing that consistently works for me: be fucking nice to yourself!

for a long time the only solution i had to being Inexplicably Unable To Do Something was to yell at myself, bully myself, assume that i wasn't trying hard enough, and end up a miserable little ball of confusion and frustration. it was def worse before i was diagnosed, but it's definitely not gone (sometimes "i don't know why i can't just do it!" just gets replaced with "well, i know what the problem is, so why can't i find a way around it?!"). and after many many years of experience with the bullying reaction vs a much shorter time comparing this reaction to other, kinder approaches, i can say with a lot of confidence that handling it with internal yelling and shaming doesn't work, straight up. it's not helpful, and most of the time it makes things worse -- even if you manage to force yourself to complete a task once or twice like this, it's too exhausting and demoralizing to be sustainable. so, while you haven't mentioned frustration in your question, that's still where my mind goes as a first step: if you're experiencing distress or anger or embarrassment over running into those barriers over and over again, the first step is practicing being calm and forgiving, not immediately trying to find a way around it. once you hit the wall and you find you can calmly go "oh, okay! this isn't working. let's figure out why" instead of immediately launching into "what the fuck is WRONG with me????", finding solutions is a lot easier.

the times i've surprised myself by having things just suddenly Flow after a long period of struggling are usually brought about by a ton of excitement and enthusiasm! i get really into a rarepair and i'm gripped with the need to make my own content, or i make a new oc who i really love, or i get back into a piece of media i haven't touched in a while and get all charged up with excitement. you gotta feed the tank to make stuff, so setting time aside to consume stuff that inspires and excites you is just as important as setting the time aside to actually sit down and try to draw.

another thing that has helped me is trying to be really purposeful abt reminding myself WHY i draw; sometimes, especially since it's my job, the images i'm supposed to be making just turn into this big featureless stack of Tasks instead of me really thinking about + appreciating what i do and why i love it. when i'm in a rut with commissions, for example, sometimes before i even try to start working (or if i HAVE tried to start and it's just not happening), i stop and sit down with the wips and really LOOK at them. i go through them one at a time and point out things i like about them or what i'm looking forward to doing: "the pose came out so good on the first try and i want to see what it'll look like finished," or "detailing all this hair is going to be so fun and relaxing." when you get so caught up in the constant repeated thought of "i just want to DO something, i want to DRAW," especially when it's been days or weeks or months where you can't, i think you can unconsciously start replacing "i want to draw because it's fun and i like what i make" with "i want to draw because i keep failing to and i just want to prove i can still do it," and for me the latter thought is usually way more distressing than it is motivating.

and finally, a failsafe: sometimes, when i can remember to do it, my secret weapon is counting down at myself for the tiniest steps possible. like i'll literally say out loud, "on the count of five, i'm going to stand up and go get my sketchbook. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...." it has to be out loud and i think the reason it works is because like. if you say it out loud, reach five, and you don't do it, you feel astronomically goofy??? and then i just go from there: "on the count of 5, i'm going to find an empty page." "on the count of 5, i'm going to start sketching a head." it kind of forces through the executive dysfunction in a way i haven't really been able to replicate with anything else. it doesn't always work in a super meaningful way -- like, plenty of times i do like three steps and then i'm like "i hate this and i don't want to and i'm not gonna make anything good like this so i give up!" and then i just take the L for the afternoon. but when the "frozen in place, literally cannot stop just staring at the page" thing is the main issue, it might be enough of a push to get going!

as always here's me going "oh oop no i dont have a lot sorry" and then rambling for paragraphs and paragraphs but by now we should be used to that. good luck, and remember 2 be patient + nice :D

[ssahoodrathotchner]

Need You Here

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have a close call with an explosion

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: swearing, explosions, talk of injuries, canon-level case violence, basically just soft hurt/comfort idk there’s a happy ending sooooo

A/N: this is definitely a self-indulgent fic that’s been a wip for a while and by some miracle i found the motivation to finish it. enjoy :)

Masterlist

---

The stars are falling from the sky.

Air rushes back into your lungs in one unpleasant burst, and you choke on the bitter taste of smoke that accompanies each additional heave of your chest. Blinking rapidly, your vision sharpens and you realize that it’s not the stars that are falling, but bits of ash and debris falling through the smoke; it’s not nighttime. You hear nothing but the ringing in your ears, sounds muffled as if underwater. Slowly, painfully, you become aware of the pain radiating through your body stemming from a pressure on your midsection. Carefully turning your head to the side, your eyes find the remains of the small cabin which once held three girls captive. Where are they? Your vision clouds once more, smoke stinging its way down your throat and biting at your eyes, causing you to squeeze them shut. You can hear shouting, and you try to focus on what’s happening around you, but the sounds fade, and you follow.

You’re being pushed—pulled? —and suddenly the pressure on your chest lets up and you gasp, eyes flying open and struggling to focus. A dark head of hair looms above you, grasping your face with both hands. Emily? Her mouth is moving, but your mind isn’t processing sounds yet, and all you can do is let out pained noises that rumble through your throat before spilling out of your lips. Your head rolls to the side as Emily removes her hands from your face and places them on your torso. The small cabin is still on fire, but the flames have lessened. Your attention is drawn back to your own body with the addition of more hands pressing down on you. Morgan’s worried face peers down at you where Emily’s had been as you fully regain consciousness.

“Wha’…?” you manage to choke out before the overwhelming taste of smoke sends you coughing.

“Whoa, Princess, easy,” Derek says, stopping you from moving around as you try and turn to get a better look at your surroundings.

He smooths a hand over your forehead and you feel something smear along the same path his hand drags across. Blood.

“Where…?” your voice is rough, but stronger this time as you desperately hold Morgan’s gaze, trying to get answers.

“There was an explosion,” he says simply, but the furrow in his brow tells you there’s more than just ‘an explosion’ that’s nagging at him.

Emily comes back into view, a hard look on her face as she stares at something in the distance. She quickly glances down at you before speaking rapidly into her comms. You seem to have lost yours in the blast.

“…yeah, Hotch, we found her. She was under some debris from the house, but Morgan and I cleared that pretty fast. She’s still down, but none of her injuries seem to be too serious,” she squints at you to confirm. You nod.

Gently, you feel Derek’s hands pressing around your midsection over your Kevlar vest, and you hiss in pain once he reaches your ribs. With a frown, he pushes just a little harder, which makes you yelp in discomfort and glare at him. So much for not having serious injuries.

“Sorry, Princess, just checking. Seems like you’ve got some bruised ribs, although I’ve got a feeling more than a few of them are broken.”

“Lovely,” you grit out as Prentiss smiles apologetically at you, correcting her assessment over the comms. Sucking in a breath, you tilt your head down towards the rest of your body. “What else, Derek?”

“My guess is also a mild concussion,” to which you grunt in agreement “and a lot of superficial cuts and nicks,” he finishes, gesturing to your upper body and face.

You make a face. “Well, as long as that’s all,” you joke. “Help me up?”

Grasping your forearm with one hand, another on your back, Derek eases you upright until you’re sitting, ribs protesting the entire time.

You open your mouth to ask him more questions, but before you can make a sound Aaron comes flying around the corner of (what used to be) the house, a grim look on his face. Dropping to his knees by your side, he takes one of your hands and leans down to kiss your forehead, lips barely leaving your skin as he takes deep breaths.

“Thought I lost you, Sweetheart,” he whispers.

“Never,” you respond, squeezing his hand in yours.

“How’d you end up all the way over here?” he asks in a soft voice, sitting back to brush hair (and blood) from your hairline.

How did you end up here?

Your brow furrows and you direct your gaze away past Aaron and up towards the darkening sky, the first stars making themselves visible.

“The unsub—” you start.

“Warner. Ted Warner,” Aaron supplies.

“Right, Warner,” you let out a frustrated breath. “And the girls…?”

“Lucy Burnes, Allison Smythe, and Rowan Lucason. All nine years old,” Morgan chimes in.

“Warner was going to release one girl an hour to us as long as we stayed back from the cabin,” Emily says with a shake of her head.

You look back towards the remains of the cabin. So much for that. It’s starting to come back to you now.

Allison, running straight into your arms and you take a step back to absorb her impact on yourself and the Kevlar you’re wearing. You see a curtain twitch through the cabin window as you look over her head. She’s shaking and crying. You slowly move backwards and pass her off to JJ who then walks her over to where the medics are parked.

“We got Allison first,” you say, looking at the team above you for confirmation.

“That’s right, Sweetheart. She ran right to you,” Aaron says with an encouraging smile.

“Rowan was next,” Morgan states, his gaze lands somewhere in the distance. You know he’s reliving it along with you.

Rowan flying out of the cabin as if being chased, lands squarely in Morgan’s chest and he’s quick to wrap her in his arms and start walking towards the medics. You see Allison’s shoulders drop in relief before she pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders and returns her gaze anxiously back to the house.

“She ran out like she was being chased by something,” you say softly.

“Or she was running to something,” Aaron says, equally as soft.

Safety.

“Then things got complicated,” Prentiss sighs.

Warner emerges, hobbling out of the cabin and dragging Lucy with him. He’s using her as a shield. They move backwards towards the woods as he shouts at everyone to stay back. You’re standing at the edge of the group of agents and officers, and in the fading light of the day, you do something you know you’ll get yelled at for later. Aaron and Rossi are engaging with Warner, trying to make him see reason, and you take your chance to slip off further to the side, easing yourself into the cover of the forest, gun drawn. Staying low, you make your way around the side of the cabin until you’re level with Warner and Lucy, separated only by the length of the small cabin. He’s getting more agitated, yelling and waving one of his arms and—there. A small remote gripped in his hand catches your attention. He raises it above his head, thumb hovering dangerously close to the buttons, and you don’t hesitate to raise your weapon and aim for his head; Lucy’s shorter than him, you’re unlikely to hit her. You pull the trigger as he clamps down on the remote. You watch Lucy twist away as he falls. No more than three seconds later, the cabin explodes. You’re thrown backwards and hit the ground hard.

“Lucy,” you breathe out, frantically looking around. “Where is she? Did she make it?”

Aaron attempts to stop you as you make a move to stand up, but you shoot him a look and he moves to help you with a huff. Supported by Morgan and Aaron, you manage to right yourself. Clenching your eyes shut, you breathe through the pain emanating from your ribcage. Oh yeah, definitely bruised if not broken. Once you’re standing, they don’t let go of you, carefully making sure you don’t collapse to the ground.

“Where is she?” you say impatiently, looking around.

“Safe,” it’s Emily who finally answers your question and you sigh in relief.

“Once she was free of Warner she took off running. She was thrown forward by the explosion, but kept moving,” Aaron says. “Morgan grabbed her and carried her the rest of the way.”

You turn to smile at Derek and he gives you a small one in return.

“And Warner?” you ask turning back to Aaron.

“Dead,” he responds in a curt tone.

You nod to yourself. “So, we got all of them.”

You take a tentative step forward, Aaron and Derek moving with you and you can see Emily in your peripheral vision keeping your slow pace.

“Yeah, Princess, we got them,” Morgan agrees. “But what you did was reckless and stupid,” he finishes.

“But—” you’re cut off by Aaron, who acts like you hadn’t started talking and instead stares straight ahead.

“Reid was the first to notice you were missing,” he says softly, and controlled in a way that relays the amount of emotion he’s holding back. “Once he alerted us, we realized none of us had seen you since Warner left the cabin. The cabin that had just exploded into flames.”

“It wasn’t until Allison mentioned you going into the woods that we put it together,” Emily says, only a tad bit louder than Aaron. “When I found you—” she pauses and sucks in a deep breath before continuing. “When I found you, I thought you were dead. You were half-under a piece of siding from the cabin and I couldn’t tell if you were breathing.”

Aaron’s hand tightens around yours. He didn’t know that.

“God, I’m sorry, Em,” you send her a weak smile.

“But you were breathing,” she says shakily. “You’re still breathing.”

Aaron says nothing, mouth pressed in a thin line, jaw tight.

You make it around the side of the still smoking house, and you’re immediately drawn to the sight of the rest of the team—Rossi, JJ, and Spencer, as they simultaneously take in your appearance with varying levels of relief and anger clouding their faces.

It’s a slow walk the rest of the way, and by the time you reach the medics, you’re gritting your teeth and focusing very hard on controlling your breathing. Gently, Morgan and Aaron deposit you on the back of the ambulance and you’re swarmed by medics in no time. The team gathers just outside the frenzy of activity going on around you, and you catch glimpses of them as you answer questions.

The medics remove your bulletproof vest and yes, your ribs hurt like a bitch. Spencer floats anxiously to Morgan’s side, asking him questions about where you were.

The antiseptic stings where it’s applied to the cuts on your face. JJ and Emily’s heads are close together, with Emily relaying everything to the blonde.

A bright light blinds you as a medic checks out your concussion. Aaron and Dave stand next to each other, arms crossed, silently watching.

Once the medics finish their evaluation, you’re told how lucky you are to only come away with a mild concussion, three broken ribs, the rest bruised, and shallow cuts that don’t (by some miracle) require stitches. Nothing that requires you to be immediately rushed to the hospital, seeing as the medics wrapped your ribs (although there really isn’t anything you can do for them besides try not to aggravate them further), cleaned the cuts (but you know there’s still blood on your face), and advised you to take it easy for the next few weeks (as if Aaron would let you do anything strenuous).

Yeah, you’re very lucky.

Aaron turns to leave once they’re done, moving back towards the three girls who are huddled together. Back to work. Derek and Rossi follow him. JJ and, to your surprise, Spencer give you short hugs before taking off after the boys. Emily shoots you a smile and pulls you to your feet, keeping an arm around your shoulders as the two of you slowly make your way to the rest of the team.

“You didn’t see him when he realized you had run off without anyone noticing,” she says quietly into your ear. “I thought he was going to run into the burning building to try and find you. I haven’t seen him lose his composure like that in the field before.”

Oh, Aaron.

Emily steps away from your side, and Allison gasps when she sees you, all but throwing off her blanket and barreling into you, closely followed by Lucy.

“You’re okay,” Allison whispers into your chest as you try not to give away how much your ribs hurt.

“Yeah,” you say softly, “Thank you for telling them where I went.”

You feel her nod against your chest and she squeezes tighter—ouch—for a second before letting go.

Lucy steps forward, shyly shifting from one foot to another. You give her a small, warm smile and she returns it.

The two girls go back to where Rowan is sitting in the back of an ambulance, and once their attention is sufficiently diverted, you grimace and hold a hand to your ribs. Oh, this is going to suck.

A hand on your back pulls you away from the ache in your torso, and you look up to see Aaron’s concerned face.

“Morgan, JJ, and Prentiss are accompanying the girls to the police station. Dave and Reid are staying here to wrap up with local PD, and we’re going back to the hotel.”

You know better than to argue with him at this point, so you just nod. Aaron guides you to a waiting SUV, and you thank him by squeezing his hand as he gently helps you settle in to the seat before buckling your seatbelt for you.

The drive back into town is quiet. You know he’s waiting until you get to the hotel room to talk to you—really talk to you. So, you give him the space and time he needs. You look out the window and watch the stars.

---

It’s when you’re in the hotel room and Aaron’s closed the door behind you that he deflates, sinking in on himself and pulling you with him until the both of you are sitting across from each other at the end of the bed.

You gently trace the lines of his palm until he takes a deep breath and begins to speak in a hushed voice.

“When Reid asked where you were,” he starts slowly, “and I couldn’t immediately see you, I thought the worst.” He looks at you, really looks at you. Desperately looks at you. “The building was on fire and Warner had told us not to get too close, so when he dropped and the place exploded with you nowhere in sight?” you squeeze his hand.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and closes his eyes, trying to gain some sense of composure, and you let him, staying silent.

“…I thought you died. I thought he had placed explosives along some imaginary perimeter, and that you triggered them and that he blew up the cabin too. I thought you were gone.” Aaron’s shoulders start to shake as he tries to push through the sobs rumbling through him. “But the girls were still there, Morgan had just grabbed Lucy, and the local cops were trying to figure out how to deal with the explosion and all I could think was that I just lost you,” his voice breaks.

You lean forward and drag a hand through his hair as he drops his head, giving in to the tears. You move your hand to his cheek and tilt his head up so you can look him in the eyes, so he can look you in the eyes. Gently, you brush tears away with your thumb as they fall.

“I’m here, Love. And I’m so sorry for not telling you where I was going. You and Dave had Warner’s attention and he still had Lucy, and I just—” you try to find the right words. “I didn’t think about it, I just knew that I had to do something to try and save her.” You sigh. “And it almost got me killed,” you acknowledge in a whisper, as if that somehow makes it better. “But all three girls get to go home to their families tonight,” you say softly.

“But you almost didn’t,” he says. “Local PD were focused on the fire and explosion and the team was focused on you and the girls. Emily took off as soon as she could and Morgan followed her because I was caught up with the Chief of Police,” he says with so much venom you can’t help but snort; this particular Chief of Police had been a pain in the ass the entire case.

“And they found me. And then you found me,” you whisper, holding both his hands in yours, kissing his knuckles. “And here we are.”

“And here we are,” he echoes.

You tug him forward, moving your hands to his shoulders and gently catching his lips with your own. His hands cup your face with a fierceness that takes you by surprise, and he kisses back with a desperation that leaves you clinging to his broad frame. I’m here I’m here I’m here. He pulls back slightly, just enough to rest his lips on yours, eyes closed, as the two of you just exist with each other, nothing more. You move your hands to the back of his neck, playing with the hair there as his thumbs move slowly across your cheekbones.

“I love you, Aaron,” you breathe, letting your lips brush his with each syllable.

“I love you more, Sweetheart,” he whispers, softly pressing his lips to yours once, twice, three times.

You open your eyes with a sigh to find Aaron already looking at you. Moving further up the bed, he pulls you with him, laying down and gently maneuvering you until you’re half-across his chest. One of your arms resting under your cheek, over his heart, the other grasping at the fabric of the button-down he’s wearing. He has both his arms securely around you, mindful of your ribs, holding you against him as he rests his cheek on top of your head and intermittently presses kisses wherever he can reach.

In the contented silence, you let yourself relax. Your eyes drifting shut to the steady rhythm of Aaron’s heartbeat as he runs his hands up and down your arms. You know you should shower, that you smell like smoke and the forest floor and that there’s blood you need to wash off your face. You know that Aaron probably won’t let you out of his sight for the foreseeable future, and that he’ll keep you by his side during standoffs so you can’t do anything close to what you did today. You know that you love him, and he loves you.

So, for now, you rest against each other and allow yourselves the comfort of knowing that you survived another day.

--- 

Taglist: @rosesonmyheart

[im-immortal]

2021 Writing Wrap-Up

Here we are, at the end of another year, and of course I started more WIPs than I finished. But what else is new. I’m proud to say I didn’t experience any real bouts of writer’s block, although I did have a pretty big life-changing event right in the middle of the year that halted the process for a few long months. But I came back with more inspiration and motivation than ever before, and everything has worked out for the better, so I’m choosing to be grateful. I finished one WIP, started and finished another, and kept up with my longest and most popular WIP! Also, not only did I turn 30 this year, but I got fucking engaged ?!? So that’s pretty awesome. Anyway, I’m very proud of the couple of things I finished this year, and just as proud of the progress I made on some WIPs. And who knows, maybe 2022 will be the year I finally finish at least one of my longer WIPs? Here’s to hoping.

A list of all the works I posted/updated this year:

lost in the sauce: 47k+ words; 10/10 chapters Ideally, this fic would’ve been finished last year, but I managed to finish it before the first month of the year was over, so that’s an accomplishment in my eyes! Also, I immediately moved on to the next part of the series, which I feel turned out even better than this one. I still can’t believe how much positive feedback I received!

In Toto Corde: 6,823 words; one-shot This wasn’t a new fic, but it was a rewrite of one of my favorite fics that I wrote years ago. I’m very proud of it, even though it’s not popular at all. And I love the plot so much that by the time I finished the rewrite, I already had ideas for a sequel, which I’m heavily into and working on steadily. It will definitely be much longer, but I’m hoping to post it sometime next year.

thirsty: 219k+ words; 46/46 chapters My most popular fic... possibly ever. And damn, am I proud of it. This was so much fun to write, and I really dove head-first into the universe. It’s also probably the most smut I’ve ever written in such a short amount of time. I still can’t believe I managed to start and finish it in the same year. I’m already working on the next part in the series, with way too many damn ideas for future parts. 

Let us always find each other: the mermaid & the man / the bandit & the criminal / gamers I’ve been writing these little AU ficlets for a while and posting them exclusively to tumblr, but this year, I decided to officially post them as a collection. The mermaid AU was inspired by the time I spent in San Diego during the spring, and I was downright itching to write it by the time I got home from spending days on the beach and in the rainy/humid weather. Then the criminals AU, which was just for fun, and the gamers one was even more fun, an idea that had been sitting in my head for some time and that I miiiiight turn into a full-fledged story one day. I had way too much fun coming up with the mechanics of the MMORPG!

what we gotta do: 20,282 words; one-shot I don’t know where exactly this idea came from, but when I searched for “fuck or die” fics in the tag, I found a shockingly low amount, so I decided to take it upon myself to change that. It’s probably one of the most depraved things I’ve ever written, but I’m honestly very proud of how it turned out, and even more proud of the feedback I received on it. And of course, as I am prone to do, I already started a sequel because I had so many damn ideas floating around in my head before I’d even finished it. So hopefully I can finish the sequel and post it sometime next year!

Don’t Make Me Haunt You: 433k+ words, 89/? chapters And of course, my current baby! Easily the most popular fic I’ve ever written. Also the most fun! I didn’t get a chance to update quite as much as I would’ve liked to this year, but that seems to be changing as I get back into a routine with it and head towards the climax and final resolution. For the last 2 years, I’ve been saying, “this will be finished by the end of the year.” LOL I clearly overestimate myself. So I won’t make any bold statements like that this year, I’ll just cross my fingers and hope for the best and keep on writing.

To everyone who’s read my fics, shown some love, or just helped bounce ideas around with me... thank you endlessly! Happy New Year and I’m very excited to see what 2022 brings for us :)

[wistfulrat]

this week’s fics! feat. bakeries, bookshops, bisexual awakenings of the angsty and fluffy sort, wolfstar goddads being tender as hell, desi harry reconnecting with his culture, domestic drarry, a lap dance set to akon’s smack that, and more!

But That’s History by @ebbet - 54k - T Harry Potter starts his first year as Muggle Studies Professor only to find that Draco Malfoy has been hired to teach History of Magic.

listen to me. this is one of the funniest drarry fics i've ever read. i was cackling in my bed at 2am because harry’s internal monologues throughout this fic are unhinged. insanely quotable. “what was he, a lothario” and “you were crushing me with your muscular thighs!” are lines that live rent free in my empty head. harry has never played anything cool a day in his life. there’s a faculty meeting where the teachers are planning the yule ball and debating the merits of a DJ when harry decides he must defend his muggle-music-loving honor by dancing seductively to akon’s smack that while a blushing draco loses his mind. i fucking screamed. and the best part is that in between the comedic scenes threading the overall story, you have extremely tender moments of like, padma patil helping harry become a more rooted desi by sharing their cultural traditions, harry proudly donning his sherwani. draco wrestling with his past, going to harry’s lgbtq+ club for students, being sheepish with ron and hermione. ugh, comedic writers with emotional depth are clever and talented as hell!!

Realities, Unfurling by @ebbet - 45k - M Draco Malfoy is released from Azkaban into a changed world.

incredible collage-fic told from multiple povs. 8yrs post-war and everything’s changed. the current state of the magical world unfolds via slice-of-life snapshots from a truly stunning cast. non-binary harry whom is running a non-prof org dedicated to building tolerance and establishing equality for marginalized identities. post-prison-release draco whose life will be changed by the internet. neville’s tender relationship with blaise. andromeda’s fiercely protective mothering. remus and sirius being alive and very hot and just, the tender goddads harry deserved. cho chang being brilliant. baker pansy’s softened edges. found families abound. harry being flustered by their crush on draco and making personalized playlists on an iPod nano.

that all might sound narratively cluttered but the author more than pulls this off. glorious, start to finish.

Knead by @jovialobservationanchor (an @hd-erised​ fic) - 83k - E This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.

cinematic. a love letter to oregon’s expansive landscapes and lively cities. it’s harry finding home in unexpected places and people. in the vast silence of rolling fields, endless coasts, and starry night skies big enough to feel like you’re adrift in space. and it’s also the lingering, intimate quiet of early mornings in a bakery, sitting on a park bench overlooking the city as you eat ice cream next to your crush. it’s harry watching ginny and luna dance and work around each other like bees. it’s the slow unfolding of harry and draco’s relationship as they fill each other’s quiet. finishing this fic is like waking from a good dream. transporting, immersive, lovely. 

Harry Potter and the Bisexual Awakening by @writcraft - 20k - E Harry is perfectly content being single, heterosexual and living in Godric's Hollow with his very clingy rescue dog, Snitch. When Draco Malfoy turns up on Harry's doorstep demanding that Harry teach him how to drive, things quickly become a lot more complicated.

first of all, i feel very seen by draco being a gay-who-can’t-drive. it’s called representation. but mostly i love the ease of harry and draco’s banter, a flustered harry discovering his sexuality, and the way this fic addresses biphobia. also very emo over this exchange: “I think I might be scared of you, but probably not for the reasons you think.” “Yes.” Draco stares at Harry. “I think I might be scared of you too.”

Forged through flowing water by @tedahfromtayla (an @hd-erised​ fic) - 40k - E When Hermione sets up a diplomatic mission to begin repairing the damage British colonisation did to Indian magical communities Harry isn’t going to pass on the opportunity to visit and help his family’s home country. Maybe he should have asked a few more questions about the personnel she had recruited for it before signing on because Malfoy surely has an ulterior motive to be there.

so much to love about this fic. the beautiful settings, from kolkata to mumbai, to the holi festival and colorful lively streets, to remote cave settlements and old intricate temples. it’s harry in the homeland, reconnecting to his family’s heritage and confronting the weight of imperialism in his history. it’s nipping the white savior complex in the bud. this part: That is what England left behind. That is what it still stands for, despite whatever mask of respectability and honour it presents. . .You don't get to step aside and let someone else deal with the mess. You have to listen and learn and then act, Malfoy, you need to learn how to fix your own mess. This is why we're here. my indigenous ass cheered. HP certainly sells the british fantasy but HP fanfic?? fuck jkr, fuck the crown. i love that this fic doesn’t romanticize england’s history. i love that we get to see the vast resilience and beauty of post-colonial india.

Purity Control by yrfrndfrnkly - 28k - T In which Harry tries to ignore his trauma with fantasy Quidditch but Malfoy's Thereness™ is distracting and all his classmates want to talk about are unicorns, virginity, and Muggle music.

tender 8th year fics where they go from bristly as fuck to understanding and soft 100% guaranteed to make me emo as hell. all the teens have traumas and no one wants to talk about it but eventually Things are Talked About. it’s good of the adults to finally notice. everyone just wants someone to hold their hand. and this part: “You’re the only person around here who’s a bigger mess than I am.” “I thought maybe we could be a mess together,” pls don’t look at me as i weep over their gentle empathy.

Advent, a comic by dustmouth - WIP - T It's Harry and Draco's first Christmas together and Draco is determined to live his full yuletide fantasy, come hell or high water.

dustmouth, patron saint of whimsical drarry. whose illustrations singlehandedly reinvented wizarding fashion. whose cheeky and tender comics are like a soothing balm to the utter depravity of this carnal world. harry and draco being domestic, draco’s xmas spirit brand being “traditional unhinged”!! extremely my shit. we’ll absolutely be reading this all december.

Little Spaces by @dracoladon and @lazywonderlvnd​ - WIP - E Draco's back from France and working on the spell damage ward at St Mungo's with Hermione, who invites him over for dinner. Without telling Harry. This is a roleplay, which means Harry is written by one author (lazywonderland) and Draco by another (dracoladon).

the switch in distinct character voices works so well for this fic!! tonally i feel like i'm watching an episode of the office. i personally love harry and draco being Pissed Off at how much they want to bone each other. the battle of the tapenade was the most riveting dinner scene i've read in a minute. clever, hilarious, emotionally tense. can’t wait until that inevitable moment post hate-sex when they’re gonna be like “oh noooo it’s a Heart Boner as well!! >:((” hell ya we’re subscribing for chapter updates.

Dragons Don’t Know Paradise by @teacup-tai​ - WIP - E In 2004, when Remus spends two scary weeks in the ITU due to complications of pneumonia and his HIV condition, Sirius walks around the house like a ghost and Harry finds comfort and strength in Draco through a chat in an online LGBT forum. Harry falls for him, but Draco has a lot of secrets and, before long, will need to come clean—even if he believes that no one is able to understand a dragon.

non-magical bookshop AU. remus and sirius’ relationship is a marvel. the ease of their affection with harry makes me so emo. draco’s friends being insistently present even as he tries to isolate himself. this is a story about acceptance, found families, and falling in love at a distance. the intimacy, the longing, the tenderness. what a fic!! i keep coming back to this part:...he looks at ease, inside his body, a body he needed to fight for. He’d made peace with his struggles and his scars. And Draco realises he wants that. He wants to be at ease inside his body, the body that now carries a virus. He wants to be at peace with his own existence. you hurt for draco so deeply but you get moments like these where he affords himself a kindness that feels foreign and it’s just!! the boys navigating grief and learning to be vulnerable. so good.

[veliseraptor]

okay yeah i’m gonna 150 words meme this bitch i think, i need external motivation of some kind so

send me a number and I’ll write you 150 words in that fic, you don’t get to read what I write but sometimes I do finish things out of this and I usually end up making a solid amount of progress at the very least so

nine choices this time, wip descriptions here. and only one of them’s pwp

1. “I’m not worth staining your pretty, pure hands?” Xue Yang said. He meant it to be sweet but something of a snarl got in it, somehow. 

Xiao Xingchen’s nostrils flared in obvious displeasure. “No,” he said. Then, “I’m trying to decide what to do with you.”

“You asking me for ideas?” 

“No,” Xiao Xingchen said, and then pursed his lips and said, “what would you suggest?”

“Free me and give me back Jiangzai and the rest of my stuff,” Xue Yang said promptly. “Obviously. Might think about not killing you or the little brat, even.” 

Xiao Xingchen shook his head. “I meant - in my position.”

“I wouldn’t be in your position.”

“But if you were,” Xiao Xingchen insisted. 

“I wouldn’t’ve picked someone up to help to begin with,” Xue Yang said. “If I was feeling nice I might kill them fast. And I don’t take prisoners.”

Xiao Xingchen’s frustration was obvious and Xue Yang laughed, even if it kind of hurt. They’d fucked up his ribs pretty bad; he’d have to watch that. Xiao Xingchen’s frown intensified.

“This isn’t a laughing matter,” he said, clipped. 

“I don’t know,” Xue Yang said. “I think it’s pretty funny.” (the backyard is full of bones)

2. “I can’t believe I’m actually starting to wish you could talk,” Xue Yang said. “You’re even more boring this way.”

I’m terribly sorry to bore you, Song Lan thought, still not looking up. Your ease is, of course, my first consideration.

Xue Yang made a disgusted noise. “If you just make me talk to myself you’re not going to like it,” he said. 

That was true. There was a limit to how long Xue Yang would tolerate being ignored before the knives came out. 

No, Song Lan thought. I am not going to be threatened into conversation I don’t want and can scarcely even have, because you threatened to make my life - even more - difficult. (Walking Far From Home)

3. “What the fuck,” he shouted. “You couldn’t say something? Couldn’t yell up that you weren’t dead? I should break every bone in your body, I thought you’d gotten yourself killed and I’d never hear the end of it–”

“I did!” Wei Wuxian protested.

“Then you could’ve yelled louder,” Jiang Cheng said. 

“I didn’t know what was going on with you! I didn’t want to distract you if you were fighting for your life or something and since I’m fine - mostly–”

“Mostly?” Jiang Cheng snarled dangerously, and then remembered what Wei Wuxian had said about breaking something and said, “sit down. I hope you broke your leg so you spare me the effort.”

Wei Wuxian sat down. He was looking at Jiang Cheng with a sort of funny expression on that it felt like he should recognize and didn’t. (Slippage)

4. “Chengmei,” Xiao Xingchen said, his voice different, softer, sort of. That weird shivery feeling was back only worse and his head’d just...gone somewhere else. Without him. “Say something. Please.” 

If he opened his mouth something was going to fall out of it that should really stay where it was, inside. His heart, maybe. He pictured that for a second, just - coughing it up into his hands, still shuddering with those last few staggering beats, and telling Xiao Xingchen now look what you did, you fucked me up bad, Daozhang.

That wasn’t a thing that could happen, physically. Not without a lot of effort and rearranging of things. ((already here) in this promised land)

5. The problem wasn’t getting past the barrier. The problem was getting past the barrier in a way that meant no one would notice someone had gone inside. Not that anyone would probably look too close - again, most of the cultivation world seemed to like it better pretending that there was no Burial Mounds anymore - but this was technically Yunmeng territory and Xue Yang had no interest in getting snapped up in Sandu Shengshou’s jaws.

Get in, get out, be back to Yi City and Xiao Xingchen before long. 

He did manage to slip in with just a little bit of careful work, without breaking anything, and stepped  into the Burial Mounds. 

He felt it right away, the hair on his skin rising a little, the aftertaste of resentment almost a taste in his mouth. It wasn’t suffocatingly intense, but it was strong enough that he held still for a moment, waiting. Letting it sweep over him, caress his skin, coil around his wrists. He didn’t try to fight it. 

This part’d always been easy. It was like pain. Something that could be bad, if you let it be, but you could take it in and make it part of you, let it become power. (a symphony for the departed)

6. What if you can reach him, reason with him, help him let go?

The people here were in danger. The right thing to do was clear. It would be irresponsible to delay in acting decisively to help them simply for his own selfish reasons. He had already failed them; delaying further would make it worse. 

He still knows you.

There was a knot in his chest. 

He needed to fix this. (the fair and the brave and the good must die)

7. “You brought me a present?” he said, with such transparent and delighted shock that she almost laughed; she held it back, suspecting he’d take it as mockery. 

“I brought you a lunch,” she corrected. “I made some soup. I…” She paused, and then said, honestly, “I used to cook for my family, and I missed it.” 

“Huh,” Chengmei said, something slightly quizzical touching his expression for a brief moment before he said, “thanks, jiejie! Let me have some,” and held out his hands expectantly. Again she felt that strange, almost searing fondness, and rode it to take out the pot and bowls, ladling a serving out for him. 

“Don’t you get enough to eat at Jinlintai?” she asked, seeing how hungrily he was eyeing the small bowl.

“Yeah,” Chengmei said, “but you never really forget how it feels to be hungry.” (this world is gonna break your heart)

8. He said it as a joke. Well, mostly. And not so much a joke as an annoyed wish, because he was trying to read and Xue Yang was feeling bored and neglected, which meant, like an understimulated husky, he was going to make it everyone’s problem.

At least right now it was just manifesting as trying to drag Song Lan into a conversation he didn’t want to have, and then trying to provoke him into something else, which he wasn’t going to indulge, and finally he lost it a little and said, “cut it out and stop bothering me for ten minutes, I swear someone should put a muzzle on you.” (heel, stay)

9. A-Qing was quiet for a few moments. She shifted on her feet. 

“Was he hot?” she asked. 

Xiao Xingchen shot her a dirty look. “I thought you didn’t want details.” 

“If you’re going to make terrible choices I at least want to know if your terrible choice was hot.” 

Xiao Xingchen debated with himself how much judgment he could take this morning, and decided that he might as well finish it out. “It was him,” he said. “Xue Yang.”

“Who?” a-Qing said blankly. 

“The guy from the hospital,” Xiao Xingchen said helplessly. 

“Dumpster guy?” Xiao Xingchen didn’t bother to confirm. “You fucked dumpster guy?” Xiao Xingchen could feel his face getting even hotter. (Redux)

[janeaudron]

Update: Electric Boogaloo 2 - Health and Other Updates

Sorry silly title, but need to cheer myself up. Putting a “read more” since this may be long.

For those concerned only about dice, just highlight “ Dice Time ” (minus quotes) and you should be in that section.

Also for the  tl;dr folks - Health really sucks right now and is disabling me from living/doing just about everything.

So it’s been a rough for months to year(s) for me. I’m doing better from getting really sick a few months ago and then the sudden kidney infections a few weeks after getting better. But my main health issue right now is everything related to my back and the muscles associated with and around it. Kinda feel like it’s getting worse but that may be me letting it get to me...

I usually try not to bring up my health issues too much but this one is affecting just about everything I’m doing to a great degree and it’s been driving me nuts. Why I just have long breaks of inactivity now. Also family issues(MORE HEALTH) but I want to keep that private.

Don’t know what is wrong but something constantly has my left side tight and also sometimes my hips and rib cage get tight. Right around my left shoulder blade down to my mid back/lower ribcabe is constantly hurting, but mostly feels sore. So with this constant pain it makes it just about impossible for me to do things for short or long periods of time. Also it makes sleeping a pain. It’s just a pain that eats at you mentally and physically.

Oh added bonus, whatever is wrecking my back also wrecks my digestive track! I am just a ball of health issues right now.

I’m glad my job has been understanding and has allowed me to reduce my hours, but I feel like I’m still struggling to meet the reduced hours with how bad some days can get where I just can’t operate.

This pain is also holding me back from doing any art as I just can’t sit or stand comfortably to work for a few hours. It’s been disheartening to say the least. Depressing really as I’ve got a folder of wips I want to finish and my board game idea is just staring at me. Done more writing/mechanics progress to a point with that but no true art due to pain killing all motivation.

Which is extra annoying since I thought I was going to finally have time to get my Ko-Fi/Patreon going for the board game development and other stuff. But if I can’t produce art and other content at a decent pace, I don’t feel comfortable having those up. Just finished finalizing all the details and tiers too. >:(

Currently working with my doctors to try and figure out what is going on, but no luck so far. Back adjustments help but are so temporary it’s frustrating. I’m doing all sorts of stretches and especially try not to undo the adjustments but they barely last a week before the pain is back and occasionally it’s worse. Also trying to adjust how I currently work and that’s had little to mild results. May try to get a split keyboard sometime in the future.

-------------

Fan Blog

Yeah chapter updates and other content will be on hold for awhile. Have mild bouts were I can do some writing but still not a lot of writing.

I may have a few solo fics I may be posting soon-ish.

-------------

Dice Time - Rather short update here.

So dice production stopped when I got really sick a few months ago, but it’s back up and running. Though running slow when you take in account of all the info above about my health. For the tl;dr folks - Health really sucks and is disabling me from living/doing stuff.

Have some unfinished sets(matte and shiny) that I need to sand to a finished state but that’s going to take awhile.

If y’all don’t mind me posting raws for sale for some time just let me know. 

Also have a bunch of unfinished misfits(fine just no full sets) and then mishaps/flawed dice that I need to figure out how I want to sell. Thinking of doing it mystery box or bag style for those.

And have to remake a few molds when I can get some more silicone(it will be awhile with everything going on.) Had some numbers tear and then some surfaces got a bit weird. Don’t know what happened to cause some weird surface textures. Funs of moldmaking.