#the word count surprised me!

[television-overload]

The Most Popular Man in D.C.

(X-Files Fanfic)

[read on AO3]

-.-.-

In the months after Scully is returned from her abduction, Mulder starts getting catcalled on the street on an almost daily basis. At first, he doesn't think much of it, but after a few weeks, he finds it odd enough to mention to her.

She walks into the basement to find him putting pins in a map of D.C., hunched over his desk in concentration.

"Mulder?" she asks with an amused look on her face, paused in the doorway with her eyebrow arched.

With a brief glance up at her, he asks, "Scully, do you think I'm attractive?" Her hand almost slips off the door handle.

Her mouth falls open to answer, but she has no clue what words might come out. What is it he's wanting her to say? He doesn't look like he's joking. In fact, he looks deadly serious.

"I–"

"I just mean, if you saw me on the street, would you—you know—whistle at me?"

His question startles a chuckle from her throat, loosening her tongue. "Whistle?" She stares at him incredulously. Where is this coming from?

"Yeah," he says. "Whistle, wave, shower me with unsolicited compliments?"

Normally, she might laugh, assuming this to be one of the goofy bits he does when he's in a good mood, but something genuinely seems to be concerning him.

"Why do you ask?" she says, brows furrowing as she enters the room fully, shutting the door behind her.

He puts another pin on the map, near the grocery store she knows he goes to near his apartment in Alexandria.

"Scully, in the last month or so, I've been catcalled by random women nearly every day, all over D.C." he begins. "On my run, at the gym, even once when I went to pick up more fish food at the pet store. All over."

"Catcalled, Mulder?" she asks.

"Yes!"

"Is that so unusual?"

His brows slant in clear concern. He needs her reassurance.

"Look, you're a... not wholly unattractive guy," she starts cautiously. "And these places—the gym, the park where you run... You'd be covered in sweat, wearing that— that sleeveless Knicks shirt you have..." She trails off, blushing profusely and hoping her hair conceals it.

"But, the PET store, Scully," he insists, thankfully too worked up to notice her pink cheeks. He gestures wildly at the map before him. "All of these pins are places where I remember it happening. All in the last month."

Oh boy. "Putting that eidetic memory to good use, I see," she says. She surveys his slightly manic appearance, gauging how worried she needs to be about his state of mind.

"There's a clear concentration in certain areas," he says, ignoring her comment. "Look: about four blocks from my apartment, see? There's a cluster of them, all near this corner."

She looks where he is pointing, and indeed, there are six pins huddled close to each other while others are more spread out.

"Do you have a theory?" she can't believe she asks.

"I was hoping you would," he says, a little defeated.

Well, if she's not about to be dragged into a wild goose chase investigation based on some theory he's concocted, then she's back to finding this entire situation hilarious again. "Why should I have a theory?" she asks, suppressing a smile as she crosses her arms and looks up at him.

"I don't know," he says, shrugging awkwardly. "You're a... a woman."

She rolls her eyes. "Thank you for noticing."

"No, but maybe you have some insight. A different perspective."

"Some kind of womanly intuition?" she asks doubtfully, challengingly.

"Well, yeah."

She purses her lips. She has no immediate answer for him, so the office falls silent. He slumps back into his chair, looking far more bedraggled than he ought to at just past 8:00 am.

No, Mulder, she doesn't have some insider secret about the female mind to explain this so-called phenomenon away, but... Man, that is a lot of pins on the map. All in the last month, he says?

Why are her toes tapping incessantly on the floor beneath the desk?

"Mulder," she starts, hardly believing the words that are about to come out of her mouth. "If you're that worried about it, maybe we should go check out some of these areas of concentration."

He looks up at her, just as surprised to hear the suggestion come from her lips.

"Really?"

She wants to roll her eyes again, but there's a knot of something she refuses to acknowledge as jealousy in her chest that prevents her from doing so.

"Only if you're that concerned," she says, hoping she sounds firm and not at all interested in why her partner is getting hit on by women left and right.

He fumbles his way to his feet, stabbing himself in the palm with a pin accidentally in the process. He curses under his breath and shakes his hand out while eagerly shoving his arm in his jacket sleeve. "Okay," he says. "I think we should start by my gym, that's where it happens the most."

"Fine," she agrees stiffly, trying not to picture him breathless after a workout and surrounded by his loving admirers.

She drives, because she needs something to do with her hands. He navigates. It's his steps they're retracing, after all. He knows best what direction they need to head in.

They park on the street, exiting the car and getting a feel of their surroundings.

"There's my gym," he points out. She's not exactly sure what they're looking for, but she keeps her eyes peeled all the same.

After a few minutes spent wandering near the entrance, she's about to call it quits, but then a muscular little brunette calls out from across the street, grinning from ear to ear as she shouts, "Woo! I'd pay your dry cleaning bill just to watch you work out in that suit, handsome!"

Before either of them has time to respond, or even come to terms with what just happened, the woman disappears into a storefront. A yoga studio, Scully deduces from the sign out front.

"See?" Mulder says, swinging his hand out toward the other side of the street. The suddenness of his speech startles her out of her tense posture, and she forces her shoulders to relax.

"I give her points for creativity," she says, marching primly back to the car and throwing the driver's side door open.

The next place they drive is the grocery store, just a stone's throw away from his apartment building. Once again, she parks, and they wander about, but this time, their fellow pedestrians are blissfully silent. She looks around. There's the grocery store. Beside it, a pawn shop. On the other side, a place selling herbal supplements... and possibly also other "herbal" remedies. RadioShack across the street. Not much going on at—she checks her watch—8:47 am.

"Notice anything unusual?" she asks, watching as an older couple hobbles into the grocery store arm-in-arm.

His shoulders lift in a shrug. "It's quieter than usual," he says. "I'm not usually here this early on a week day."

She nods. This stop might have been a bust, but at least she didn't have to hear another cheesy one-liner directed at Mulder.

They're not so lucky at the next, and—she decides—final stop.

About a block down from the coffee shop in Georgetown that he frequents when he has to wake her at an ungodly hour, two women loiter outside a shop advertising high-quality tattoos and piercings. One takes a drag from her cigarette, then calls out, "Let's see a smile on those pouty lips!" The other woman chuckles, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

Mulder gives an awkward smile and nod in their direction, and Scully promptly grabs him by the arm, ushering him hurriedly back to the car.

She stews in silence on the drive back to the Hoover building. She knows she has no right to do so, and yet...

"You see what I mean, Scully?" he asks. "You gotta agree that something's unusual."

Does she? He's an attractive man. YES, okay, she's attracted to him. Can she fault other women for noticing? Maybe they could do to keep their mouths shut and leave him alone, sure, but wouldn't most men kill to have that kind of attention given to them?

"I don't know," she answers, her hands gripping the wheel.

"I'm serious. I've lived here for years, and this has never happened before. Then all of a sudden..."

"You're reading too much into it," she snaps. Then, softening her tone, "I mean, if they won't leave you alone, tell them to back off. Tell them you're an FBI agent and can arrest them for harrassment."

"Scully..."

"It's not an X-File, Mulder," she says decisively. "We've missed enough work as it is. Just forget about it."

His jaw shifts like he's about to argue her point, but instead he says the words she's always longed to hear from him.

"You're probably right."

-.-.-

She tries to forget about it.

On Thursday, he cheekily informs her that he had been called a "handsome devil" that morning while stopping by the bank. Friday, the descriptive term is decidedly less work-friendly, but he saunters in looking quite pleased with himself.

Gee, she sure is glad she told him not to worry about all the attention he's getting. Now, he actually seems to be enjoying it.

The weekend can't come soon enough. At 5:00 on the dot, she bids goodbye to his boyish smile and wishes him a good weekend. At home, she finishes off half a bottle of wine and watches some trashy reality TV until it's bedtime, and she promptly passes out.

-.-.-

Saturday, she wakes up feeling stupid. After popping a few advil, she deep cleans her kitchen, tossing out the now empty bottle of wine and even dusting on top of her cabinets, a task that requires standing precariously on the countertop with a featherduster in hand.

As the clock ticks closer to noon, though, she begrudgingly pulls herself away from her work and readies herself for her afternoon commitment with her sister. On the way to Melissa's dumpy—temporary—apartment, she picks up lunch from her favorite Chinese place. It's been months since Melissa came to town. She's not the kind to stay put in one place for long. If Scully hadn't been abducted, or whatever it was that happened to her, Missy wouldn't have been there in the first place.

The apartment is one she'd found on short notice when she heard what had happened, and came to support their mother throughout the ordeal. It pays by the month, and has a serious ant problem in the kitchen, but otherwise isn't the absolute worst living situation Scully could fathom. She liked having her sister nearby, even if it was only for a while.

Now, the ceaseless call of adventure summons Melissa once more, and it is time to go. Scully had promised to help her pack her things this weekend, and now the day is here.

"You sure you don't want to stay?" she asks, loathing how the sentence makes her sound like her 15 year old self when Missy had first left home for her first (and only) year of college.

"You don't need me, Dana," her sister says. "Besides, you know I can only handle so much of Mom telling me what I should be doing with my life."

"She means well," Scully assures her.

"I know she does," Missy says with a smile. "And I know you're no stranger to doing the complete opposite of what she tells you, too."

Scully breathes out a laugh.

"Come on, help me take these boxes down to the moving truck." Melissa shucks her jacket off, tying it around her waist in preparation for the physical labor it would take to carry multiple loads of boxes down four flights of stairs. One of the worst features of this apartment building is it's permanently broken elevator. Moving in must have been a nightmare.

Bending to pick up her first box, Scully catches a glimpse of something on Missy's right wrist, visible now that her jacket has come off.

"What's that?" she asks, brows furrowing.

"Hmm?" her sister asks. Her eyes follow Dana's to the marking on her skin on the underside of her arm. "Oh, I got that while you were in the hospital. You're like 90% of my impulse control, Dana."

Her teasing tone does not negate the heaviness that comes from mentioning that horrific time for her family. That time when she was all but lost to all those who knew her.

"What is it?" she asks.

Missy sets her box back down, and Scully does the same. "Check it out," she says, drawing closer so Scully can see.

On her wrist is a small cross tattoo, remarkably similar in shape and size to the cross Scully wears around her neck.

Strange. She's fairly certain Melissa hasn't been to mass in years, much to their mother's chagrin.

"Why?" she asks, genuine confusion lacing her voice.

"Don't go all 'Mom' on me, Dane," Missy jokes, smacking her in the shoulder. "It's just a tattoo."

Scully shakes her head. "No, I mean, why that? Why a cross?"

"Oh." Melissa looks down at her wrist in thought, then back up at Dana. "It just... seemed to be the thing to do."

"Something to remember me by?" Scully tries to joke, though she's aware of how morbid that sounds, to live to see the way her sister planned to memorialize her.

"Actually, no," Melissa corrects. "It was your partner."

Huh?

"Mulder?" Scully asks, wondering how on earth her necklace—the symbol of Christianity—relates to her unbelieving partner.

"Yeah, it was— Look, it's not really my place to tell, but I saw the way he relied on that necklace of yours for strength while you were gone. Not once did I see him take it off. It was like, if he didn't let go of it, then he wasn't letting go of you. I admire that."

Scully still doesn't understand. "So, the tattoo..."

"Is a reminder to have hope," Melissa finishes. "To have that same belief in others that Fox had for you, even when things looked hopeless and we almost gave up."

Scully's heart twists painfully.

This marking on her sister's body is tangible proof of what Scully has known all along:

That her partner is something special. That his uncommon belief in the unbelievable leaves an impact, not just on her, but on others whom he interacts with.

She still finds it hard to fathom that there had been weeks and months where Mulder was out there, spending time with her mother and sister while she was missing, or lying comatose on a hospital bed.

"When you came back, and when you got better, I knew it was him that saved you," Missy says softly, as if she can hear her thoughts and doesn't want to disrupt them. "I know it's him."

Her sister's piercing eyes meet hers seriously, and she turns away, lifting the box back into her arms to serve as a distraction.

"We don't want to keep the movers waiting," she says, forcing her thoughts away from Mulder. Away from the dangerous thoughts that had filled her head all week.

Missy's eyes brighten, and she grins.

"Don't keep him waiting," she warns.

-.-.-

Scully hands her sister the last of the boxes, and Missy stands up in the back of the truck, brushing the dust off her hands with a satisfied sigh.

"That's the last of it," she says proudly. "Oh, wait—"

She turns quickly, rummaging through a few boxes before triumphantly extracting a small piece of paper.

"Here, give that back to Fox, will you?" she says, handing it to Scully.

"What's this?" she asks, turning the glossy paper in hand to look at it properly.

In her hand, she holds a photo of Mulder from one of the times he'd been locked up on trespassing charges that ultimately wouldn't hold. He'd gotten a kick out of getting his mugshot taken, and so had requested a copy of it upon his release, and the small sheriff's department in Idaho had granted his wish.

But why did Melissa have it?

"I stole it from his apartment," she says, answering her unspoken question. "Made some copies, spread them around."

"You— you did what with them?"

"Just gave them to some friends," she says, smirking as she plops down on the edge of the truck bed. "You know I make friends wherever I go."

"Yeah, but why?"

The conspiratorial smile on her sister's face comes straight out of their childhood.

"Has Fox been getting an unusual amount of attention when walking around D.C. lately?" she asks nonchalantly, concealing a wider grin.

"Missy, you didn't!" Scully says, her jaw dropping.

"You didn't see him, Dane! He needed a pick-me-up!" Melissa raises her hands in defense, smiling at her sister's reaction.

Scully scoffs, but only to prevent a burst of astonished laughter from escaping. "A pick-me-up, not someone to pick him up," she says in as chastising a voice as she can manage.

Only Melissa would do something like this. She should have known.

"So it did work after all," Missy surmises. "Good. He needed a confidence boost. Has his ego inflated terribly?"

This time, Scully does laugh. "Sure, maybe after he got over the paranoia of suddenly being the most popular man in Washington, D.C."

"I guess it would come as a shock," Missy says, eyes bright with mirth.

Scully smacks her sister in the arm. "He was convinced it was some kind of conspiracy!"

"Oh, well," Missy says. "The real conspiracy is how you won't hit on that man yourself."

She's going to miss her sister, she reminds herself. Just be glad she's been in town this long.

Nope. She still wants to throttle her.

She shakes her head.

"Melissa..."

-.-.-

The compliments—because Scully refuses to call them catcalls—continue for the next few months, though with decreasing frequency.

After thinking it over for the weekend, she decides not to tell him. Maybe some day, years from now, when they can laugh about it.

For now, she lets other women say her thoughts aloud, and delights in the way his cheeks turn rosy when she's with him to hear their cheesy pick-up lines.

She wonders how she didn't notice before, the way these women look just like people Melissa would hang around with. Choker necklaces around their necks, Doc Martin shoes... Mulder was onto something with his map. The gym: across the street from a yoga studio that Missy had gone to a few times. The herbal supplement place, one that Missy had definitely stopped by on occasion. The tattoo parlor. Self-explanatory.

Now that she's in on the secret, whenever it happens, it's like Missy is there for a second. It makes her feel less far away. She thinks of these women being handed a photocopied flyer with Mulder's face on it, and wonders what on earth Missy had specifically told them to do.

Whatever it was, it had been effective.

Funny. She never really pictured introducing her sister to her partner, but now she wonders how she didn't see it before. She's glad Missy stepped in to look after him while she was gone, even if it involved a prank of questionable taste. She wouldn't have expected any less from her sister. And maybe that was just what Mulder needed.

She tells him at the funeral.

It's too early to find the humor in it, like she'd hoped they would someday. But his lips do curl into a small smile. Remembering.

It still happens on occasion after that. And when it does, Mulder takes Scully's hand and whispers, "See? She's never really gone."

Melissa Scully had left her mark on Washington, D.C., even in the short time she'd been there. She left her mark on Mulder in the same way.

Years down the line, when the number of Mulder's admirers has dwindled to one, Scully lies awake, picturing his face as he whispered sweet words to her. His constant. His touchstone.

"You were right, Missy," she breathes into the still air of her lonely apartment. Sometimes it feels haunted by her ghost. Tonight, that brings her comfort. "You were right."

She thinks she hears the echo of a sultry whistle.

-.-.-

Tagging: @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @teenie-xf

[fakeoutbf]

five stages of grief but it’s five stages of social anxiety

[jonathanbyersphd]

🥳 Will Byers 53rd BDay ficlet 🥳

Will can hear his husband rummaging through the hallway closet as pulls his jacket on. He wonders what he could possibly be searching for. Both of their umbrellas are by the door, he already gave him the new Princess Peach game as a birthday present this morning and he’s already wearing his jacket. Will checks his watch again, they’ve got seven minutes before they miss the train. 

“Mike come on we're going to be late”  Will calls.

“I'm looking for betrayal at the house on the hill, have you seen it?” Mike yells back.

“You seriously think Nancy's going to play board games?” he laughs.

“Well, it is her favorite brother-in-law’s birthday,” Mike argues.

Will is about to defend Holly’s husband but there’s a crash from the hallway before he can. 

“Are you-”

“Found It”

Mike meets him in the foyer, wide grin spread on his face and a stack of board games in his hands. Will smiles in spite of himself.  

“Besides, Jonathan and Matty definitely will ” He declares before giving Will a quick kiss.

“I thought Matty couldn't make it?” Will asks. 

“No, Sammy can't. Midterms. Geez old man keep track of your kids” Mike teases, packing the games into a bag.

“Haha very funny”

“Don’t worry no matter how old you get I'll still love you” he promises with another kiss.

“Remind me again why they can't come to dinner here?” Will sighs, and he swears Mike’s smile fades for the briefest second. 

“When in the last twenty years have those two ever come to Brooklyn?” Mike complains with an eyeroll

“They used to for the kids birthdays” Will reminds

“And we were pushing our luck then, Babe” He contends. 

“I'm just saying we could stay in, get pizza, crush you in Mario Kart” Will shrugs checking his pocket for his keys one last time. 

“If that's really what you want I can text the group chat” Mike offers quietly. 

When he turns around, he can tell that Mike doesn’t love the idea and he tries not to feel too guilty about not wanting to go into Manhattan in the rain. 

“But Nancy already picked up your cake” Mike entices

Ok, so maybe he’s been thinking about a double chocolate all week but he’s sure they have the ingredients in the kitchen. 

“And Jonathan's making lasagna” Mike coaxes. 

And sure, no one can replicate Karen’s lasagna recipe like his brother can but pizza is fine. 

“Let me guess, Matt’s already there?”  Will questions hesitantly, not wanting the answer. 

“Yea, but he's spending the weekend. So that's not a big deal” Mike shrugs, and Will’s surprised that he’s coming around. 

“Jordan did fly in from L.A. though” Mike admits. 

“Just for my birthday???”

“It's a family thing you know how she is with family things and you're her favorite uncle” Mike grins.

“Bull” 

“Look, whatever you wanna do it’s fine. We just better decide before it starts pouring” Mike encourages. 

Will can tell he’s not telling the full truth. He’s not sure why their niece would fly in for such an unremarkable birthday. But, he would feel a little bad if she wasted the trip. Not to mention that changing the plans means Matt drove into Manhattan from Burlington for no reason. And as much as he wants to stay in he’d feel way too guilty about doing that to his kid. 

“Let’s go” he resigns. 

Half an hour, one horrible subway ride, and a short walk in the rain later they're standing on the porch in Greenwich Village and Mike is frantically texting. 

“Just ring the bell” Will admonishes right as the front door swings open. 

“Hey Buddy, happy birthday” Jonathan greets with a hug. Practically pulling them into the house.

They quickly take off their coats and shoes. 

“After you birthday boy” Mike insists cheekily and Will rolls his eyes but leads the way up the stairs. 

When they reach the kitchen, the lights are completely out and before he can say anything someone flips a switch illuminating the room. Noisemakers and shouts of ‘surprise’ fill the room. He barely registers that Sam is there before El excitedly pulls him into a hug and Dustin, Lucas and Max quickly follow suit. He tries to ignore the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Will beams with only a couple sniffles.

“We heard there was a party” Lucas jokes. 

Before Will can joke back about coming all the way from Chicago for some cake. Matty and Dylan start a spirited, if off-key, rendition of Happy Birthday with his fire-hazard of a cake in hand. 

“You going to be able to get all those” Jonathan teases from behind his camera as Will takes a deep breath to blow them out. 

Somehow, he gets all fifty-three candles in one go and Nancy swiftly takes the cake away to cut slices at the kitchen table with Jordan. Sammy crosses the room and gives him a tight hug. Will doesn’t even think to chastise him for not being at school.

“I can’t believe you did all this” Will smiles. 

“Yea well, it’s not everyday you turn fifty-three” Mike jokes as he places a birthday hat on Will’s head and hands another one to Sam. 

He chases down Matt to give him a matching one and Jonathan takes their picture. The four of them must look ridiculous but he’s so happy to be with their family he doesn’t care too much.For the tiniest second, Will worries that there’s no way he’s going to be able to match this surprise for Mike’s birthday. But Mike tenderly squeezes his shoulder and the feeling is gone just as quickly as it came. 

“What’d you wish for?” Mike asks once Jonathan finishes his photoshoot. 

“Nothing, I don’t need anything else, this is perfect. Thank you” Will admits quietly, trying not to get over-emotional. 

“It’s nothing really, just a couple phone calls” Mike shrugs. 

“I’m impressed you kept the secret” Will commends. 

“The things we do for love” he responds, dramatically. 

“I love you” Will responds leaning in for a kiss.

“But I’m still gonna crush you at Mario Kart” he taunts and Mike laughs.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Shout-out to @secret-third-thing for making this super fun template! It was very fun (and interesting) to look back at all my fics for this year and to make this 🥰

[saybiwithme]

Fic writing 2023 review!

Tagged by @monsterrae1 & @hippolotamus ❤️

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

Words and Fics

17,242 words written on A03

1 Fandom (911)

Most Recent drop: dancing over the silence

Longest fic: dancing over the silence

Top fics by Kudos

emerald star in the sky

bated breath

dancing over the silence

My fandom fic events in 2023

None

Upcoming Events and Projects for 2024

Let’s just hope I can get them done lmao but finishing the surprise party fic, getting vampire buck prequel done for @santadiazz, getting hannigram out for @honestlydarkprincess, getting the Reid/ethan fic out for @wheelsupin-five

Tagging: @loserdiaz, @rogerzsteven, @prettyboybuckley, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @buddierights, @spotsandsocks, @spookylostboy, @disasterbuckdiaz, @loveofastarvingdog, @your-catfish-friend, @jesuisici33 & @callmenewbie

[lostlavenderer]

Not me reading this fic and thinking I'm almost out of the angsty part of the exes-to-hookup-to-enemies-to-lovers slowburn arc ONLY TO FIND IM AT CHAPTER MOTHERFUCKING 5 OUT OF 19. devastating. heartwrenching. someone get these fuckers to smooch and teach them how to communicate I swear to fucking god

[roaldseth]

“It was a different story to each person Z'aanta told it to, and even then it was not a sure thing of staying the same for any consecutive retellings[. ...] The hunt was not even one commissioned by the Order, and yet it still existed amongst it in its records, [...] a completely different tale than the one from the master hunter’s mouth despite it chronicling the exact same events.”

【 Full Wage 】 an Octopath Traveler fanfic

Z'aanta | Rated M | 11,065 words, 3/3 Chapters

COMPLETED

Please mind full tags on AO3. Prologue - Story - Epilogue format

Fic linked below ↓

[squarebracketsmileyface]

I'm working on something that's not Sorry It's Locked right now (perhaps something that i was inspired to pick up again by seeing Sickmutes skully and the operator art hehehe) so have a snippet of it.

kinda nsfw? I guess what Alex says kinda insinuates the situation they're in (...and y'know, smut is just what I write for the most part, i consider myself a smut writer) putting it under a thingy anyway because i talk a bit more about the fic, and that is definitely a bit nsfw

Anyway, no idea what this fic's gonna be called, but it's so self indulgent and has weird ass kinks in it. like, normal weird like tentacle sex and gunplay and super rough fucking, and also just, ones that are probably a little too weird to be considered normal weird? like getting filled with pitch black, inhuman cum so much it leaks out of your eyes and comes up your throat💀 so... yeah. theres that i guess.

I'm gonna have so much fun with it.

God knows why I ever stopped writing it. got caught up in sorry its locked probably

[cloud-somersault]

gotten comments surprised that there's an epilogue and i just...

i said chapter 1 there would be an epilogue. and people displeased with....the pacing, the plot "what about macaque's curse!????"

so none of you trust me? i see now.

[wingedarrows]

FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED MY NANO GOAL.

This is the power of the blorbo

I was doing a very simple 500 words a day, except on weekends, where it was 1000 a day. I ended up with a total of 25,245 words, which is 6000 more than the technical "goal" (I was focused more on daily goals than an overall goal)!

I'm very happy with this

[autisticmob]

holy shit you got carjacked? that must've been terrifying

oh yeah in the moment it was pretty wild. had a hard time sleeping that night obviously. but honestly between my roommate and my family & friends and everybody being very cool about it and letting me talk through it like, IMMEDIATELY, the discomfort was honestly pretty limited.

PLUS my car was a piece of shit anyway. it was so shitty that it actually broke down on the dude who stole it, which led to the police catching him. it ALSO led to my insurance company declaring the car totaled and paying me the full value of the damn thing, which helped me get a new car pretty quickly.

my roommate also had the catalytic converter stolen off their car in that parking lot a few days later, so they were actually 100% cool with breaking our lease at that apartment and moving somewhere else pretty much right away, and we magically found a really NICE apartment in our budget, like. nicer than the old place by A Significant Margin.

BASICALLY it sucked and was bad, but it snowballed very quickly into me having a way nicer car and apartment than i did before, so???

i can't, uh, really complain about this man taking my car from me at gunpoint, aside from the fact that it made me briefly afraid for my life and also i had to interact with cops a lot afterward???

and honestly. one of the cops was like a really hot butch woman and i know I KNOW ACAB okay? and like im aroace so its not like i wouldve done anything anyway but like. im also gay and i have eyes you know if it had to be ANY cop im just saying,

[mishy-mashy]

Hi! I noticed you bring up fanfiction every once in a while, so do you have an ao3?

I DO

But the stuff I post here isn't actually written out and posted anywhere else, and my ao3 (posted stories) is pretty bare. Like, I only touch it to read other people's stuff at this point

Everything I do write is OC stuff though, and that's not everyone's jam

The stuff I do post here all comes from my notes for said fic ideas. They're all fleshed out enough that I can write them into proper stories. Like, the whole plot is figured out, I know where to end, character perspectives, all that jazz. I just don't write them out, since I don't have that motivation, and the stories would end up huge

I don't like posting the actual stories either. People have asked for updates on the new chapters I just put down, and I've run into a lot of copy-pasters. Even the few things I have on ao3 is having a mimic somewhere. So I otherwise keep everything to myself, or post little things here

I've been going through my past stuff lately to reorganize. It's fun. Even if they're old (some are over 5 years old), I find little gems that surprise me like these

(Unordinary; Re:Zero; BNHA)

Like- they aren't that bad. That's surprising. How old are these things???

[t-lostinworlds]

**DISCLAIMER: i have no idea when it will be finished btw. and being that i never know how my own brain works either, it's a possibility that you'll even get a different fic entirely sksksks

[dy1ng-athe1st]

My OC: *calls Delgado 'Del' way too many times during the mission while being a Rook*

Delgado: I am your Captain, and from now on you will refer to me as such.

My OC: Okay, Such.

Delgado: 😐🤨

[ivorydice]

heads up 7 up

Tagged by: @oftincturedwords (thank you!! <333)

Rules: post the last seven sentences from one of your WIPs! i’m not going to say it has to be the absolute last seven sentences you’ve written - just from something you’re still working on.

Note: I literally just started this on Friday night because I need a break from my main fics which all seem big and super angsty and are ganging up on me, and this fic is the dumbest thing I've ever written and I'm having such a blast with it lmaoooo here's a bit that keeps making me cackle

Good boy! Umbra’s tail thumps against the dock and he pants, enjoying the petting along his fur. It’s nice, it’s wonderful even, but it can’t last forever, and, sure enough, Lunafreya pulls away, getting to her feet with a soft sigh.

There's a sly glint in Pryna's eyes as she comes closer and sits, and her happy panting is a little too smug as Lunafreya approaches her. Umbra can see her tactics already, the way she’ll take advantage of his absence. Extra pets, extra treats! Opportunist! Scoundrel!

Tagging (with zero pressure): @promptos-barcode, @avianscribe, @kaelinaloveslomaris, @every-lemon, @quartzguts, @amiyade @breakfastteatime, @marmolita and anyone else who wants to do this *bonk* you're tagged!

[actual-changeling]

anon i saw your request and i am unfortunately reporting that I am about halfway into the story and already 1.3k deep.

my condolences if you expected a drabble.

everyone except me saw this coming, but i once again did not </3 will hopefully done later this afternoon/evening.