Tumgik
#'both' we all know i have like 20 wips
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[WIP]
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the people who use AI may be able to pump out something similar to this in 5 minutes but they are NEVER gonna get the satisfaction of lovingly posing and dressing Tim Stoker slutting it up exponentially in not-quite business casual.
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Dirty Work 20
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: weekends aren't for rest, they're for being sick and anxious so Monday will be a treat.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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As you enter, you try your best not to make too much noise. You set the bags down lightly and ease the inner door shut. You can hear your dad and the soft sound of puzzle pieces meeting the table.
“Ya know, thirty years almost, but I can see her just like yesterday,” he says.
Your heart clutches. You never heard him talk about your mom. When you were a kid and didn’t know better, he just ignored all your questions about her. When you got older, you stopped asking. You figured it’s easier for both of you to pretend she never was.
“I’m sorry, hon,” Leslie comforts, “you know, in my line of work, I’ve seen it over and over. It’s a wound you can’t heal.”
“Oh yeah,” he grits, “yeah, I’d say…”
You swallow and lean back on your foot, crinkling the bags behind you. You cringe as you hear sudden movement. You turn and work to slip off the white loafers. You pretend like you weren’t listening as Leslie’s shadow looms from the archway.
“You’re home,” she proclaims, “we didn’t think you’d be so early.”
“Me either,” you say as you face her. 
Her lashes flick and her mouth opens, “oh my, you look so good! Weren’t you working today?”
“Uh, did some work,” you lie, “I got a few hours off so I… did some running around.”
“Oh, gosh, come on, you have to show your dad,” she takes you by the wrist and tugs you around, “Charles, look at your girl.”
She presents you with her hands on your shoulders. You can’t even look at your dad as the couch creaks and he grunts at your appearance. He snorts and pushes another piece into the puzzle.
“What am I looking at?” He sneers.
“Charles, don’t be like that. Look at her hair, and this dress,” she touches your hips, “must be a nice job, huh?”
“It’s alright,” you shimmy out of her grasp, “I just… needed something more presentable–”
“Something shorter,” your father scoffs, “so when she’s bending to tidy the floors you can see right up.”
“Charles, that’s gross,” Leslie reprimands.
“Truth can be like that,” he snickers, “think some man’s buying her fancy clothes so she can sweep? We both know how she pays for you.”
“No… it’s not…” you shrug and give up, “I’m gonna put my stuff away and start dinner. If you want, you can head off early too.”
“Oh, I don’t mind sticking around,” Leslie says as she once more sits beside your dad, “let me know if you need any help with dinner. Don’t wanna get anything on that nice little dress.”
You nod and hesitate. You can’t tell what she means by that. For as much as she can call out your father, she often speaks with an edge of her own. Just like the cigarettes, she must assume his insults are your fault.
You leave the room and grab the bags. You carry them up the stairs to your room. You shut the door and sit on the end of the bed. You bend and cradle your head, trying to set it straight after the dizzying day.
👠
The bus provides a momentary break from your hostile world. There is no safe place for you. Home is barely that and work is… confusing. Your only escape is to focus on your tasks and get through them. Get through Mr. Laufeyson’s list then come home and the chores left untouched. 
Your look at the time on your phone and black the screen. You get a glimpse of your reflection off the glass as you do. You didn't do too bad with the makeup. It looks okay. You tried not to use too much as you recalled Eliana's instructions.
You shake off your doubts and airy feeling around your legs. You're not use to the skirt or the pretty fabrics. You feel overdressed and out-of-place, but the latter is so new to you.
Through the gate and along the edge of the drive, you hear your name flutter in the air. You stop short as you see Frigga strolling along the hedges, caressing the petals of a rose. She draws away and strides towards you, an ivory skirt paired with a golden brown blouse and nude heels.
“You do start early, don’t you?” She approaches and takes your hand, “come, let’s have tea.”
“Oh, uh, I…” you let her tug you along the walkway towards the front door, “the carpenter is coming today–”
“Ah yes, Loki mentioned you were working on restoring the gazebo. That’s lovely. We used to have tea there, me and… his wife. She was a laugh.”
“Mm,” you hum. Whoever this woman was, she must’ve been very special. You imagine a beautiful woman with silky hair and long legs like Frigga. She must’ve fit right in.
“I suppose if it was meant to be, it would be. I only hope my son can find happiness again,” she squeezes your hand before she lets you go. 
She opens the door and waves you in ahead of her. You slip out of your flats much easier than your usual lace-up sneakers. She steps out of her heels and sighs.
“That’s his problem, you know? He’s lonely but too proud to admit it,” she sidles around you and leads you down to the kitchen. You follow and watch as she goes to the counter and pours from the waiting teapot. “Though I haven’t seen him today. I suppose he’s sleeping in, it is the weekend.”
You tilt your head but don’t comment. For as long as you’ve worked for him, not very long at all, he’s never slept past your arrival. Well, not so far as you know.
“I do love this skirt,” she comes back around the counter and touches the tweed, “wonderful pairing,” she touches the blouse with the petal shaped cutouts around the high-collar, “you’re learning.”
“Um, yeah, all the clothes are so pretty,” you say.
“Please, have your tea. I’m sure you have time before the carpenter,” she urges.
“Right, er, I’ll just take my bag upstairs first,” you say, “out of the way.”
“Sure,” she accepts with a kind smile, “how about I take this out to the patio, we can enjoy the sun?”
“Alright,” you agree and hike up your bag, “thank you.”
You quickly flit off and head upstairs. You weren’t expecting her to be there. You just hadn’t thought of it. You only dreaded facing your unbendable boss and his persistent stare.
You go into the library and tuck your bag under the writing desk. You double check the schedule in your phone; Ronan, 10. You have an hour before he arrives.
Your mind is already on the gazebo as you scurry back into the hall. As you shut the door gently, you hear a groan. You peer down towards the unusual noise and blink at the slightly ajar door. The main bedroom. Mr. Laufeyson’s. It rises again before a drawn out exhale, his timbre rumbling low.
You quickly set back to your path and flee downstairs. Maybe he’s talking in his sleep, or more likely, stretching out a few kinks. Your curiosity quickly dissipates as you pass through the dining room and out into the patio.
Frigga sits with large pointed sunglasses over her eyes. She tilts her face up to the sunlight as you sit before the other cup of tea. You pull it close and look out at the yard. A streak of green catches your gaze.
You watch the hummingbird hover over fuchsia petals. You stare dreamily, lulled by the peace of the moment as Frigga merely sips and basks. This isn’t so bad. The bird zips between flowers before disappearing behind a tree. In his stead, the skittish chipmunk scrambles along the railing of the patio. You smile at his fluffy tail.
“I’ll be off tomorrow,” Frigga states, “my husband will be expecting me. Oh, but I’ll miss you, darling.”
“Is it very far?” You wonder.
“Four or five hours,” she answers, “not very far but enough. It’s so lovely up where we are. I wish you could see. Perhaps one day. When things are better.”
Before you can answer, there’s a subtle click behind you.
“Morning,” Mr. Laufeyson’s voice is unleashed onto the scene as the patio door swings inward, “mother,” he pauses before he enunciates your name, “beautiful day out.”
Your shoulders stiffen and nearly touch your ears as you sit straight. He pulls out the chair at your other elbow and sets down another teacup with a clink. He sits and smooths back his dark hair, tucking the spiralled ends behind his ears.
“Late morning,” his mother remarks, “any tea left?”
“Some, shall I–”
He puts his hands flat, moving to stand but she shoos him as she’s quicker to rise, “I’ll get it myself. And you darling,” she dips her chin in your direction, “more?”
“Oh, no thanks, I’m still… working on mine. Thank you, Frigga,” you say, mindful of each syllable.
She leaves and the door clicks shut behind her. You stare at the brim of your cup, turning it slowly between your hands as Laufeyson raises his own to his lips. He drinks carefully before putting it down again.
He’s quiet. He shifts and plants an elbow on the table. He turns his attention to the yard and watches. You dare to look up as well, the chipmunk poking his head out from the bush where he hides. He ran away at Mr. Laufeyson’s arrival.
“Cute little fellow,” he remarks as he faces you again. You quickly lower your eyes.
“Uh, yeah…”
“Mmm,” he drones and taps his fingers on the porcelain teacup, “you… that’s a nice shirt.”
“Thanks,” you lift your cup and drain most of it, gulping painfully as you put it back down, “I should go start. Ronan will be here shortly–”
“The carpenter?”
“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I have him penned in–” You explain.
“And? He is a carpenter, he knows what he’s doing. I doubt he needs you watching over his shoulder.”
“I know, uh, but I should be there to let him in,” you slide your cup off the table.
“You’re not even done your tea.”
“I’ll finish on my way in–”
“You’re avoiding me,” he accused and you wince.
“What?”
“You’re running away? Why?” He challenges.
“I’m not, I– I have work to do.”
“Work I give you. I’m your boss, you may sit and finish. I’ll permit it.”
You falter and set the cup on the table. You lower yourself back to the seat and fold your hands. You look at your lap and push your shoulders back. He is back to his haughty demands, you find that part of him easier to handle.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I wasn't running away.”
He scoffs thinly and his nostrils flare as he stares off at the hedges that edge the patio, “I wonder why you can be so quick to flee me when you sat and let my brother feel you up.”
“Huh?” You blanch, stuck by the accusation. “Mr. Laufeyson, I–”
“I know him well and I’m not as blind as my mother. I saw it. You didn’t say a word. You just let him do it,” he clucks, “why?”
Your eyes round and you bat your lashes. You nearly choke, the acidic flavour of the tea drying on your tongue. Was it that bad? You tried not to think about it, to let it affect you, even as the memories flashed in your head, you just tried not to feel anything about it.
“I didn’t… well… he’s your brother, Mr. Laufeyson, I didn’t want to assume… to offend–” you stammer.
“So you let him do what he wants?” He snarlss as he turns his sights on you, a brow arch tritely. “You do not work for him, you work for me.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do,” you sputter, confused by his anger. “I tried to…”
Your voice trails off. No, you didn’t try. You were too afraid too. He’s right, you let Thor keep touching you and you didn’t say anything, you didn’t move, you just froze up.
“It makes me wonder,” he cups his chin, leaning on his elbow, “how far would you let him get, hm?”
“Mr. Laufeyson,” you whimper, “I’m sorry–”
“Did you like how he touched you?”
“N-no, Mr. Laufeyson, no, of course not,” you plead.
“You do not want him to touch you?” He prompts.
“No, I… didn’t know how to say—”
“Shhh,” he hushes you, lifting his chin from his hand and pressing his finger to his lips. He pulls his hand away to point at you, “I’ve a better question…” He reaches towards you and you flinch. You quiver as he traces the cutout along the top of your blouse, “how far would you let me go?”
You squirm as he hooks his finger inside the teardrop window in the fabric. His fingertip brushes you as he gives a slight tug, looming closer as he draws you towards him. He smirks as you stare dumbfounded. What is he doing?
“My brother will not touch you again,” his voice is low and rocky, “I will make sure of it.” He tickles you slightly and rescinds his hand, “and you will make sure to remember who you belong to.”
He sits back and hooks his fingers in the handle of the porcelain mug. As if on cue, the french doors open behind you and Frigga trills as she emerges, “oh, just enough tea,” she announces, “I added a dash of honey this time.”
She places the cup by her empty chair but does not sit. She twirls and paces around the patio, going to the flower boxes along the rail. She leans in to examine them.
“Perhaps the carpenter could have a look here, it’s crooked,” she declares. “And I dare say the guest room has a loose floorboard right near the bed.”
“Mm, perhaps, mother,” Laufeyson drawls as he once more raises his cup, his eyes stuck on you, “my house manager will be sure to ask, won’t she?”
“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you wisp out through your constricted throat, barely registering his command. 
You can only hear his previous words echoing, over and over; remember who you belong to. Belong to… No, you only work for him.
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taylormarieee · 8 months
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~Drunk in Love~
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Summary: You and Daryl are both skeptical of Alexandria. So you two go out for a smoke and a drink and things get a little heated.
Word Count:1.2k
Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Fem!Reader
Warnings: P in V Sex, Unprotected Sex, Oral (F reciving), Fingering, Creampie, 18+ Minors DNI, High and Drunk Sex, References and Use of Alcohol, Plot then Sex
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You and the group arrive at Alexandria. You are very skeptical but you trust Aaron. He seems nice and you like him. The gates open and you are met by some dude who's name is Nicholas.
"Hand over your Weapons" Nicholas says.
"Ugh I dont think were gonna do that buddy. If we wanted to kill you we would have done it by now." You say shifting your weight.
"Yea uhm were gonna be holding on to these. Got a problem with that?" Rick asks tilting his head.
"No-No that won't be necessary. Were gonna let you keep your weapons. Your all gonna have to talk to Deanna though." Aaron says.
"Who's Deanna!" Abraham says. Everybody's Attention is on Aaron and Nicholas as we wait for them to explain.
"I'll take you to her. For now I will show you where will be staying." Aaron smiles walking away. " Follow me."
You walk next to Carl and steal his hat. He pushes you and easily grabs his hat back. "Cheater." You say smiling. "Thief!" he says laughing as well.
You all enter the house and is getting Interviewed by Deanna one by one. After You all are Interviewed, Deanna announces she's having A house party. You didn't want to go but you wanted to get a little drunk so you went.
Everybody looked nice, Rick had shaved his beast of a beard, and Rosita dressed nicely, same as Abraham. We all looked nice. I had noticed that Daryl wasn't here with everybody else. I made a mental note to go look for him later. I walked up to the bar and grabbed drink after drink.
"Hey Rick! Wanna drink." I ask giggling. "Sweetheart? Are you ok? Yah really shouldn't be drinkin this much." He says smiling walking over to you.
"But it's a party!! So let's party!" I say happily. Rick shook his head, "Go find some water." He says holding your arm. "You know what? I'm gonna go find Daryl! Bye Ricky!" I say sluggishly walking out of Deanna's house with a Jack Daniels bottle and two cups.
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You walk to the house the group and you are staying at. You walk closer to see someone standing smoking on the poarch. You immediately know who that long haired, vest wearing man is. Daryl Dixon. You've had a crush on daryl ever since the Prison when he was finally stepping up and providing for the group. You've always found daryl attractive but you never thought the feelings were mutual.
Sometimes there were looks and glances, Touches that lingered to long, and tension in the air you could cut it with a knife. You walk up the steps and see Daryl wip around knife in hand.
"Woah buddy, It's just me. I come bearing gifts!" I say shaking the cups and Jack Daniels bottle. He smiled and laughed.
"Ya too young for tha. Whatcha know 'bout Jack Daniels?" He said walking towards you grabbing a cup. " Number one I'm not too young Mr. Dixon and Two I know alot about Jack Daniels." I say giggling
Daryl grumbles at you and scrunches his nose. " Wanna smoke wit me?" He asks taking a puff of the Cigarette.
"Yea sure!" You say grabbing the Cigarette.
After about an hour or two of drinking and smoking you both are extremely wasted, talking about nonsense.
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"Ok ok!" You say giggling, " your turn! "
"I don't like this game. It's stupid." He says chuckling.
"C'mon Daryl you have to have another question you wanna ask me?!" You turn to look at him and smile nudging his arm to go on. "Ok fine. Have you ever fucked an older guy? Not like old old but like mid 20's Early 30's?" Daryl asks with a smirk.
"Oh god Daryl! You sicko! I am 26!" I say shocked.
"Still ain't answer ma question." He says smiling. You roll your eyes and chuckle.
"Fine! No Daryl I have not." You say kicking his foot. He grunts, "Well imma have to change that." He says grabbing your face to puff smoke in your mouth. You gladly open your mouth to receive it only to be met with an wet, opened mouth kiss.
You grab his neck and pull him closer receiving a groan from the man. He grabs your waist pulling you closer. You back up as he pushed you forward to the front door.
Your hands fumble around to find the door knob. after 2 minutes of struggle you finally open the door drunkenly giggling and laughing the whole way up the stairs to your bedroom.
The moment that bedroom door closed you two couldn't keep your hands off one another. Tearing off each others clothes, slowly but surely making your way to the bed. You plop down on the bed and daryl makes his way on top of you.
Your dripping wet. Slick running from your slit all the way to your thighs and soaking the bed. Daryl pries your legs open staring at your glistening cunt. "Yer so pretty you know tha?" Daryl says biting his lip
Before you can even respond you feel Daryl's warm tongue on your clit flicking back and forth, up and down and all around. Your met with a wave of pleasure between your legs. He licks from your slit and back to your clit sucking roughly on your clit. You moan out in pleasure, screaming his name over and over again.
He grunts and moans against your pussy sending vibrations through your entire body. You feel the familiar feeling in your stomach. Feels like a bubble about to burts. You grab onto his beautiful brown locs pushing his head further in while trying to ride his face.
You feel your climax approaching very quickly. Your on the edge when you feel Daryl stick two fingers inside you. You let out an audible moan followed by a series of whimpers and you cum all over Daryls face and Fingers.
You start to giggle at the feeling of your release finally being released. Daryl comes to you face and kisses you passionately, while stroking his cock. "Yer ready f'me big girl?" He says lining his cock up with your entrance. You hastily shake your head whimpering, "Please Daryl. I wanna feel you Inside me!" you whimper out.
Daryl chuckles and begins penetrating you. You wince at the feeling considering how big he is but that pain soon forms into pleasure and you moan as he bottoms out. He slowly but roughly starts thrusting into you. His thrusts are rough aggressive and slow making you squirm under him whimpering and begging him to go faster.
"Please Daryl please go faster." You beg holding onto to his broad shoulders. "So Impatient sweet girl." Daryl teases. He listens to your pleas and proceeds to fuck you at a faster and rough pase showering you with praises.
"Look at ya baby, takin me so well."
"You keep squeezin me like tha and I won't last."
"Imma cum in this pretty, tight pussy."
"Oh yes daryl please come inside me!" You whine out feeling Daryl twitch inside. you. And with a few more rough, erratic thrusts, Daryl. shoots his load inside you. He rubs tight, rough circles on your clit making you cum in a matter of seconds. He fucks you through both of your highs. All that can be heard is your pants and giggles. You both cuddle up together as Daryl whispers sweet nothings in your ear while rubbing your thigh.
"I guess fucking an older guy is better." You say smiling. "Yer damn right it is!" Daryl grunts.
You two slowly drift off to sleep, awaiting for tomorrow in this suspicious place called Alexandria.
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TAGLIST: @carlsdarling @murdadixon @pandorxxx @number1gal @rickswh0r3 @sinsandsweetness @neteyamyawne @neytirishottie @darylscvmdumpster @rickydixky @dirtydixonsgirl @darklydixon
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wasabijean · 16 days
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‼️ART FOR DONATIONS TO PALESTINIAN FUNDRAISERS‼️
Hello! A few days ago I began kickstarting my own personal Art for Palestine Campaign on Twitter, and I’m bringing it over to Tumblr as well! By donating to the fundraisers linked below, I will draw you something!
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Details on how to help are here!!⬇️⬇️
First, send proof of donation to this google form (I require a screenshot of receipt with name, amount donated and who you donated to.)
After receiving your form, I will then DM you on Tumblr, to let you know your place in queue on trello, and the Estimated time of completion for your art! I will send WIPs if asked.
Here is what to expect based on how much you donate, example drawings are in the google form, or search #my-art tag on my blog.
$1 - traditional full page notebook sketches
$5 - digital messy sketch 
$10 - digital clean sketch black & white/monocolor shading
$15 - digital clean sketch with color
$30 - (2 people) digital clean sketch and color
($40 - Three people)
($50 - Four people)
$60 - Clean Rendered Portrait (simple background, bust up)
$100 - Clean Rendered Full body, full background, full color
5. And here is the list of fundraisers participating, please donate to ALL of them, not just one!
Aya & Mohammed - Both torn by the occupation, them and their families are trying to evacuate Gaza. Mohammed is a survivor of IOF imprisonment for 20 days without outside contact.
Farah & her family - A 20-year-old english translator studying at Al Azhar University, Farah is young and has already gone through much. She and her family are trying to cross the border in Rafah.
Mahmoud Mush - A Palestinian graduate with dreams of establishing his Bakery, all his work undone by the bombings. He is determined to rebuild and pursue his dream no matter what.
Dounia Tanani & her family - A Palestinian mother who graduated as a translator and has been left homeless like many others. She and her family are trying to evacuate Gaza and begin a new life to raise her child.
Ahmed Almofty & his family - He is a recent graduate in Gaza with a promising future, and now he has no home or possessions. Ahmed's future relies on rebuilding his families lives.
Sondos Maher & her family - She is a 27 year old mother of three children who runs a family vlogging channel and now is trying to get them out of Gaza.
Nagham & her family - She is a third year medical student in Gaza who hopes to escape to Canada where her Gaza-born brother, Yasmeen, resides. To start her life anew for her and her family, they need to be evacuated!
Issa & family - They are apart of a family of 6, two of which are college students, while their youngest child is 12 years old. They are trying to evacuate and continue their children's education!
Hafez & his daughters - He is a father two young and bright girls, Malak, a 5-year-old with a love for school and his baby Habiba, born during the occupation. Please donate so they stay healthy!
Mostfa and his family – A young Palestinian body builder who has broke many records and set a precedent for his community, he and his family suffers from the occupation and sickness caused by it.
I will add more fundraisers for those who would like to participate, just tell me and I will add on to this via reblog. Palestine will be free, and it starts with helping the people who need freeing.
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vastill · 1 year
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I'm sorry, I love you too
Melissa Schemmenti/fem!reader
warnings: hurt/comfort
words: 1300+
My requests are open!!
English is not my first language!!
A/N: you wanted more hurt/comfort and you shall receive... tbh it was hard for me to finish this WIP so it's a little rushed at the end but i hope you enjoy it! let me know what you think!!💚
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You were sitting in the restaurant for at least 20 minutes, waiting for her to show up. The restaurant was nice and cozy, you were sipping on a glass of wine, not ordering anything, maybe she will be late.
Maybe she didn’t forget this time.
The waitress came to your table, her eyes full of pity. You hated that, but you had some hope in your girlfriend.
“Can I get you something to eat? Or are we waiting for a little longer?” The waitress asked.
“Yeah, we wait but can I have some more wine?” You smiled at her and she quickly nodded. And you were left to your thoughts.
That was the third date in two weeks that you had planned. And the third one that she forgot about. Did she have so much work at school? Maybe another late meeting with Barbara?
Did she not want to be seen in public with you?
You two were dating for more than a year but everything was in secret. Melissa didn't want to go public, you understood her. You both were working at the school, she wanted to remain professional. Also, you were younger. She always assured you that wasn’t a problem and that she doesn’t care about what people think. But did she really?
Behind the closed door, she was the sweetest person you could ever imagine but as soon as you were out everything changed. She wasn't your girlfriend anymore.
Was that too much to ask for? For her to show up? You were only asking for one evening. One dinner at that place you two were talking about for ages. Only one night.
You shook your head, trying to get rid of the negative thoughts. You didn't want to jump to conclusions, but you couldn't help feeling hurt and frustrated.
You drank your glass of wine and decided to call it a night. You paid for everything and left the restaurant and drove to your house, not wanting to see Melissa tonight.
As you walked into your house, you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. You had been looking forward to that dinner with Melissa, and it seemed like she couldn't even be bothered to show up. You decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and wait for her to call or text, but after a few hours of silence, you realized that she wasn't going to.
You only send her a text that you can’t go with her to the Farmer’s Market tomorrow. You didn’t want to stand her up, even when she deserved it. You weren’t that petty.
You spent the rest of the night trying to distract yourself, but your mind kept wandering back to Melissa and what could be going on. You knew that you needed to talk to her about everything, but you didn't know if you were ready to hear what she had to say.
The next day you spend at home, slouching on the couch with ice cream, and your comfort show to make your mood better. To forget about yesterday's failure.
At lunchtime, you heard a knock on the door. Was your delivery guy that quick? You went to open the door.
Melissa stood there with a bag full of containers of food she cooked.
You were surprised to see her at your doorstep, but you couldn't help but feel a little relieved. Maybe there was a good explanation for her absence.
“Hiya hon, I wanted to make sure everything is okay and brought you some food, made your favorite. It’s all fresh bought it today.” She said with a smile on her face.
“Hey, oh thanks. Come in.” You let her in. A little confused that she didn’t bring up yesterday's dinner right away.
“So what’s up with you? Why didn’t you want to go today? Felling sick?” She asked as she was unpacking the food she brought.
“Are you really asking me that?” You said. You didn’t want to believe that she forgot. She couldn’t.
“What?” She asked clearly confused.
You let out a sigh. She forgot. It was clear now.
“We planned a date yesterday Melissa. I was waiting for you in that restaurant, hoping you show up. Hoping you didn’t forget the third time. Hoping I was important enough for you to remember.” You said looking at her. Your eyes held all the hurt and frustration you were feeling.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize...” Melissa trailed off, looking guilty. “Work has just been so busy lately, and I’ve been really scatterbrained.”
“It isn’t an excuse Melissa. It was the third time. The third time I had to sit and wait for my girlfriend to show up.” You said, your voice raising. You took a breath in to calm yourself. “I mean the first one, okay, I can understand. The second one was just a mistake. But the third time? Melissa, I feel like I’m not important to you. I understand that you're busy with work and everything, but that doesn't excuse repeatedly forgetting about our plans. I just want to know where I stand with you because I feel like you are avoiding being seen with me.” You sighed, your hands rubbing your face, waiting for her response.
Melissa looked at you with a pained expression on her face. “I'm so sorry,” she said softly. “I never wanted to make you feel that way. I’m so sorry. You are important to me, and I don't want you to feel like I'm avoiding being seen with you. I just don't want to make a big deal out of our relationship, especially at school, you know how it is.” She reached out to take your hand, hoping to convey her sincerity.
“Yes, I understand this. But it’s so hard when you are shutting me out as soon as we are in the open. We are in a year long relationship, don’t you think it’s serious enough to make us public?” You ask, nervous about what her answer could be.
Melissa looked down at her feet, clearly struggling with what to say. “I...I don't know,” she finally admitted. “It's just...it's complicated. I care about you so much, but I also don't want to risk our jobs. I know it's not fair to you, and I'm sorry. I just don't know what to do.” She looked back up at you.
“The staff at our job has the most understanding people that I have ever known. I really don’t think that will be a problem, especially when they find out that we were hiding this for that long.” You said looking at her with a soft smile. “And you know I don't care about reputation, I care about you more Melissa. I just want to show everyone how much I love you, how much I care about you.” Your eyes filled with a plea for understanding.
Melissa looked at you with tears in her eyes. “I'm sorry, I love you too.” She said, her voice shaking. “I didn't realize how much this was hurting you.” She leaned in to hug you, and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. “I think we should go public. Taking slow steps, I don’t want them to have a heart attack if we show up on Monday all lovey-dovey.” She said laughing softly.
Relief washed over you, you couldn’t help yourself and just grabbed her for a hug. You felt so happy hearing that she understood your point of view. Backing away a little you took her face in your hands. “I love you so much, Mel.” You kissed her hard and she quickly reciprocated.
You parted when your lungs needed air. You linked your foreheads.
“I love you more hon.” She said stealing another kiss from you. “We need to eat that food I made. We don’t want to waste it.” And you smiled, food. The best love language.
A/N: i'm working on other requests now and on some drabbles with Mel and Lila. i think some of it will be posted somewhere this week!💚
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sarahlizziewrites · 29 days
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WIP Intro: Chrissie's of London
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"So charmed to meet you. Oh me? I'm Mr Chrissie, and you can be forgiven for not knowing me, though my name is in big golden glittering letters on the side of the building. Cost a fortune, they do. I should know."
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1923 - Towering above the London skyline, on the side of the hotel they call the Jewel of the Strand, is the name on everyone’s lips: Chrissie’s of London.
Silas Chrissie is also - literally - on everyone’s lips, but his hedonistic lifestyle is thrown into turmoil when Amanda Suffolk checks into the hotel. She’s an American fashion model, hard to get, and is about to paint a target on the back of one of Silas’ cream suits. 
Chrissie is joined by his long-suffering accountant, Miss Cramps, and his old-friend-turned-shape-shifting-felon, Jacques, as he navigates magic, betrayal, a mountain of issues, and a love triangle that spans multiple dimensions.
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Themes/genres:
historical, surrealism, multiverse theory, lgbtqia+, adventure
Things I get excited about with this WIP:
Romance - Chrissie gets cursed and told he needs to find his 'true love' to break the curse. What the hell does that even mean, anyway? He's never been in love, but lately he's been developing complicated feelings for both his best friend and his accountant. Which one is he 'supposed' to fall for? Somewhere along the way - and almost too late - he realises there's room for both. My jazz age polycule live forever in my heart, born organically from how perfect they all are together.
The Inverse - a kind of fucked-up Wonderland, a mirror-world accessible only by magic (and portals, if you’ve got one going spare). A realm where outcasts and freaks reside and thrive. Silas ends up here, but can’t come and go as he pleases, just like how bi people often end up existing on the fringes of queer communities and engaging in comphet, because he doesn’t have magic.
The 20s - an era of blistering social change, where it's pretty difficult being in your 30s and trying to silently recover from having served in WW1, and being bisexual in an era where the world's out to punish you for it.
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"'If the name's on the hotel, then all is well,' Grandpapa would always say. And he should know, he built the place. Welcome, and we wish you a very pleasant stay at Chrissie's London."
Chrissie's of London taglist: @novel-emma, @tabswrites, @mrbexwrites, @hippiewrites, @vacantgodling, @imsoveryveryconfusedatlife (+/-)
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diazsdimples · 4 months
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Fic Writing Review 2023 🥳
Words and Fics
222,730 words published to AO3
1 fandom (9-1-1)
Most recent drop: sugar and spice and all that smells nice (Buddie | 6.3k | E)
Longest fic: Buck's Baby (By Accident) (Buddie | 119k | G)
Top Fics By Kudos
Buck's Baby By Accident (Buddie | 119k | G)
Fucking Finally (Finally Fucking) (Buddie | 3.9k | E)
Burning with Need (Buddie | 3.8k | E)
First Words (Buddie | 2k | G)
In sickness and in health (but mostly in sickness) (Buddie | 3.7k | G)
My Fandom Events in 2023
Didn't do any! I joined the fandom in June and didn't write anything until July 🙃
Upcoming Events and Projects for 2024
This all depends on how many babies need delivering next year ngl, and how much of the year I spend on call but here's the WIPs I have so far!
To finish/publish:
With you I'm home - I quoted 20 chapters for this because Buck's Baby was also 20 chapters but I am 100% playing this by air. In this fic, we see Buck and Eddie embarking on their first year of marriage. They have a 2 year old son (Aidan) and Christopher, who is 14. This fic will show them navigating parenting a boisterous toddler and a sassy teenager while they begin their journey to having a new baby.
Cat Fic!! - this has been sitting in my WIPs folder for months now and I haven't had the beans to write it recently! Buck has adopted a cat with a curious name that brings a whole load of feelings to the forefront of his brain (is he saying I love you to the wrong Eddie?) and also provides some excellent material to fuck with his friends.
AUs that live in my head rent free
GTA AU - Listen I know this sounds weird, BUT, Buck and Eddie are heads of rival motorcycle gangs and constantly engage in turf wars. They realise they have the same product dealer for their cocaine lockups, who has been selling them dodgy product, resulting in loss of revenue for both men. They come together to confront the man realise they work extremely well together and who knows, maybe rival MC gang members can fall in love!
Piano Teacher!Buck, Parent!Eddie and Student!Chris - this was inspired by my Musician AU Play me like a fiddle, and was vaguely encouraged on Ao3 by @theotherbuckley, and will be a oneshot of Eddie coming to Buck after being referred to him by Christopher's physical therapy. Buck is more than happy to take Christopher on as a student is fast delighted by his constant, bubbly optimism. Eddie watches as Buck teaches his son and watches Christopher's confidence in himself build and realises, fuck, he's slowly falling in love with his son's teacher.
His Dark Materials AU - Buck finds himself in possession of an alethiometer and the more questions he asks of it, trying to figure out it's true meaning, the more he finds himself being drawn towards a dark, mysterious man he's noticed hanging around the college lately. Buck's daemon is instantly drawn to Eddie's daemon and the two find themselves unlikely friends, embarking on a quest to discover what it is the alethiometer is trying to warn them about.
Single Parents AU - Buck is the single father of two daughters and has just joined the 118 and is struggling to find his place. He meets another single father at his daughter's school in the pick up line one day and Eddie reveals he's training at the LAFD but struggling with childcare while he does it. Buck suggests they combine childcare and offers to help Eddie train, and even gets him a position in the 118 when Eddie graduates. How long will they coparent their three kids before they realise they've got it bad for each other?
Misc. ideas that haven't quite developed into fics yet but exist!
Magic Au - Buck and Eddie both have the power to control their auras (which have a colour and scent specific only to them) and go through rigorous training to enable them to save the earth from the Elder Race threatening to take over (inspired by Michael Scott's Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel)
Detectives AU - I've been watching too many Scandinavian crime shows and want to write Buddie solving a grisly murder
Chances are I'll come up with more over the summer!
Tags and rules under the cut
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.
Tagged by @jesuisici33 and @hippolotamus thank you my loves!
(no pressure) tagging @malewifediaz @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @theotherbuckley @disasterbuckdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @callmenewbie @cal-daisies-and-briars @daffi-990 @monsterrae1 @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @rainbow-nerdss @wikiangela @steadfastsaturnsrings @spagheddiediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @loserdiaz @smilingbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks (ignore if you've already done it!)
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discordantwords · 4 months
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20 questions for fic writers
I was tagged by @khorazir and @raina-at. Thanks so much for tagging me!
1. How many works do you have on AO3? 47 (how is it that many?!) 29 for BBC Sherlock 18 for The X-Files
2. What's your total A03 word count? 897,533
3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently only BBC Sherlock
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea
White Knight
Incidents with Dogs, Curious and Otherwise
Another Auld Lang Syne
The Dead Detective
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to! I'm not always the best at keeping up, especially lately as my schedule has been erratic and I can only steal a few minutes here and there for fandom activities. But even when I don't have a chance to reply, I do read and treasure each and every comment.
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I guess maybe The Pillar upon which England Rests has the saddest ending of anything that I've ever written, but I don't really consider it a sad story. It's set immediately post Reichenbach, told mostly through flashbacks as Mrs Hudson shares the story of how she met Sherlock with John. Sherlock is still "dead" when the story comes to a close, and John and Mrs Hudson are both grieving, though we as the reader know their loss is temporary.
I have a few shorter fics with ambiguous endings that lean in the angsty direction:
Nothing Happened in Belarus deals with accidental time travel, with grief-stricken S4 Sherlock finding himself briefly in the care of S1 John. Alas, the reprieve is a short one, as neither Sherlock nor John become aware of what is happening in time to take advantage of the opportunity.
At the end of Leaves Sherlock and John have either triumphed over the hallucinogenic vines that have invaded 221B… or they haven't. (I have my own theory, but you are free to interpret the ending however you choose.)
In EXECUTE John inadvertently deletes Mary from existence. He gets his happy ending, but has to live with the uncomfortable knowledge of the choices he's made.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most of my fics have happy or at least hopeful endings. I like leaving the boys in a good place. I guess it depends on the flavor of happy you're looking for. But I'd say that these are probably the happiest:
(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea
Inscrutable to the Last
White Knight
Another Auld Lang Syne
Whirlwind
8. Do you get hate on fics? Thankfully, no. A few weird comments here and there, but nothing too bad. The vast majority of my interaction with others in the fandom has been absolutely wonderful.
9. Do you write smut? Most of my sex scenes stay in R rated territory. But I tend to roll with whatever the plot demands of me.
10. Do you write crossovers? I've done quite a few fusion fics, but not crossovers. Crossovers aren't usually my cup of tea.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Once, sort of, but I don't believe it was done maliciously and I don't wish to call attention to it.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! I'm always flattered by requests to translate my writing.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? A friend and I used to write together quite a bit in high school, but nothing that has made it out into the world.
14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Sherlock & John and Mulder & Scully.
15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Crime Writer is a Sherlock/Knight Rider fusion that ran out of steam a while back (although it was intended to be episodic and IMO doesn't feel too horribly unresolved where it ends, so don't let the unfinished nature of it put you off if you're inclined to read it).
I'm still optimistic about most of the WIPs in my WIP folder, heh. I guess we'll see what next year brings.
16. What are your writing strengths? I like to think I'm good at writing complicated people with complicated feelings that don't always resolve neatly.
17. What are your writing weaknesses? I don't think my smut is particularly inspired. And I have a very hard time writing fluff or domestic situations without having some angst to drive the plot.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I personally wouldn't attempt it. I'm not fluent in any other languages and there's far too much nuance to leave in the hands of Google Translate. :)
19. First fandom you wrote for? X-Files! (Unless you count unrefined and unposted scribblings from my younger years, I definitely went through a phase where I was trying to fix the Terminator time loop in a way that allowed Sarah Connor and Kyle Reese to live happily ever after.)
20. Favourite fic you've ever written? Oh, this is always such a hard question to answer. The Pillar upon Which England Rests is the first fic I wrote for the Sherlock fandom, so it has a special place in my heart. I'm really proud of the cases and complex plot in Out There. (Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea is the one that seems to resonate with the most people. And White Knight is the fic I'd most like to see turned into an episode of the show. :D
I'll tag @thetimemoves @insistentbass @lololollywrites @arwamachine @naefelldaurk @clueless-mp4 @totallysilvergirl and anyone else who would like to play along!
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ledalasombra · 9 months
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Hello everybody
As the AO3 is down I will put some WIP's of mine here. Hope you like it. As I said earlier, English is not my first language, so please let me know. Enjoy!
My not so normal little sister
Chapter 1
"What are you talking about 'if you cast the cure' ?" the person in front of her questioned "they will be dead if you don't do that!"
Ladybug scowled her expression to the man infront of her "If I cast the cure, you have to understand that all will be in the original place! I undestand the situation but you have to know that in the moment I cast the cure all the villains and weapons will be back in the same time! I am here for the last six hours and I am tired. All the others have to be either.... We need at least a plan to take care of the situation…"
She was cut off by a figure with slightly brown skin and dark blue hair who hugged her tightly " Maman! " The girl started crying on her shoulder while Ladybug opened her eyes in amazement, hugging the girl tightly…
Marinette woke up breathless, feeling the sun pass through the cracks in the curtain that partially closed the bedroom window. She took a deep breath trying to calm down, putting her arm over her eyes. It was the third time she'd had the same dream in the last few days, remembering the events that took place months ago when she was taken to the future by Bunnix. She sat up in bed, deciding she was going to make her day productive, placing both hands over her face and squeezing over her eyes. She grunted, getting up and heading to the bathroom to begin her daily routine, with a wake-up shower and wearing comfortable clothes. She made a very strong coffee as soon as she entered the kitchen, pulling out a croissant and reaching for a jar of cookies. She took everything to the office, already determined to finish all her pending tasks.
The sun had been in the sky for some time and Marinette had already finished her second cup of coffee. She adjusted her posture in her chair, stretching her back and spine slightly as she read again what she'd finished writing, taking a deep breath as she hit the save button for the email's automated reply. Now she wouldn't take any more work while she was away. She finished reading the second email she needed to send to the other clients warning that some commissions would be delayed or would not start until after her complete recovery. She sent a few more e-mails briefly explaining the reason for her departure, quickly shifting her attention to the portrait on her desk, smiling weakly. She ran her index finger over a photo of her parents laughing as they celebrated their last birthday a few months ago, still trying to understand what happened over 20 years ago and what she would do with what little information she had.
Marinette ran her hands through her hair in a clear sign of irritation and fear, feeling that she was going into a spiral of thoughts that she knew wouldn't come out so easily. Life should follow its normal flow, she couldn't interfere. She could do nothing but hope that the course of events would proceed in such a way that she would not have catastrophic complications in the future. The timeline in the future had already been altered and any acting on her part now would be much worse. The sound of the video call coming from the computer screen in front of her woke her from her trance and her thoughts. She smiled slightly seeing her friend's face appear on the screen.
" Hello Miss ' I'm too busy to talk to friends'. I was already getting worried with all this silence on your part. " the boy smiled, frowning a little at his friend's state. Dark circles under her eyes, a clear sign that she hadn't slept or rested in a while. She was downcast and the smile didn't reach her eyes as it always did when they spoke...
" Peter! How are things in New York sir “drama king”? " She smiled with the exaggeration of the friend in front of her. It was always refreshing to think about how optimistic he was. She was really in need of people like him right now. After the end of her three-year relationship it seemed like fate wanted her to go to the bottom as quickly as possible and surely Peter Parker would be one of those people who wouldn't allow that to happen. It was still amazing to her to think that the two of them had simply managed to carry on a friendship as quickly as theirs after literally bumping into each other and getting filthy from the coffee “bath” they were both carrying.
"Things are fine around here in the same rush waiting for you to grace us with your presence. Why haven't you been answering calls or at least returning?" He looked at her worriedly, his eyes moving trying to understand what was happening to her through her expression and body language. Marinette has always been a very expressive person and no matter how hard she tried, it was not possible to hide how she felt. At least not from him after so long of friendship.
"I think .... I needed some time to assimilate some things. Trying to occupy myself and not think about what was or is happening at the moment." She forced a smile looking at him trying to find courage and the best way to say what she needed, taking a deep breath to stop the tears from falling again, she didn't want to worry him, he was fresh air in her life. She didn't need anyone else telling her what to do and what not to do. She didn't need anyone else with that pitying look on her current situation.
" It was that asshole of your ex, wasn't it? " He replied, letting his easy smile go away, because he knew how much the end of the old relationship had affected her. It was days watching her light grow dimmer, until he convinced her to visit New York to get better. He was worried, but Peter didn't want to have to take any action before she authorized it. "Mars, I swear that if you allow it, I'll fix it quickly, he won't even know what hit him... I don't even need to be present for that little model to regret…"
"You're not going to do anything Peter! " She cut him off before he started with a long conversation about how much he deserved everything he intended to do. Marinette had already heard everything possible about what he thought. She gave a slight smile shaking her head " Well, let's leave him aside, there are two things I need to talk to you about. The first is that ... " she hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, already knowing the flood of questions that would arise "I'm going to have surgery next week... it's kind of delicate so... let's say I'm a little... nervous?"
Peter looked at her for a while trying to understand what she had just said. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to come up with a coherent sentence "How? Why? When? Where.... ?"
"Hey, calm down, otherwise I won't follow you…" She smiles slightly "I found out a few weeks ago that I have a benign brain tumor, but it's growing and causing some discomfort... " She threw her body against the chair" It's not a simple surgery Peter…" she felt the tears in her eyes, blinking fast to stop them from falling "But it's going to be alright, I don't want you to worry…"
"Mars, it's not a question of whether you want to or not… "he looked at her with a worried face, seeing her with red eyes trying to hold back tears "you know very well that things don't work that way. Let me know the date that will be the procedure I'm going to…"
"No, you won't come here…" she said imperatively, shaking her head and gesturing with her hands, pausing in her speech "I didn't want to make anyone else worried."
"Mari...."
"I need your help with something." She purposely cut him off so he wouldn't start with the same words she'd been hearing for the past few weeks. "When I went to do some tests, because of the surgery, I found out that my parents are not my biological parents…" she spoke each word slowly, still having a little difficulty understanding what was happening" We took the test in 2 different places and I don't know what to do or what to think. Peter, I'm so confused, but I need to know what happened. And my parents they were so devastated, you had to see them. They had just received the news that I was sick and suddenly they find out that I'm not even their real daughter…"
"Can you send me your birth certificate and the place where you were born? Hospital... anything... I'll try to find something out." He cut her off realizing that she started crying and was getting nervous. He wanted to let her talk, but he didn't know how it would affect her not knowing how her illness was, didn't want to make her more stressed than she already was.
"My parents said that I was born 1 month early and that I had to go to an incubator. I will email you my documents. They said they were in Gotham at the time. " She spoke while wiping her face from the tears that had flowed "There was an attack in the city with hostages, the hospitals were full and she shared a room with a couple who were also in labor. Maybe that will help...” he could hear her typing, visibly sending him the files.
"Hey... calm down, I'll see what I can do from here" he paused, seeing her start to cry again "Mari, everything will be fine. I'll sort things out around here and I'll find a way to be there with you... All right?"
"I…" She took a deep breath, with difficulty. After a few seconds she closed her eyes, throwing her head back trying to refocus on the present "thanks, I'm just… not sure what to do or think. What if my biological parents are alive? what if they don't want to see me? What if I don't want to see them? Will they want to know something about me? How will my parents be? And their biological daughter, will she want to come here?" She paused taking a deep breath when she realized she was saying everything she was afraid of. She looked down at her hands, realizing they were shaking, closing her eyes and pressing them together "I just sent you what you asked for. I think it has everything you need."
"I'm already looking here... But I called you to have news, so tell me, how are things and college? Did you get the transfer? Got any results?" He said trying to cheer her up while using the computer to search the hospital records for what he needed. He smiled slightly as he listened to her talk with some excitement about what had happened in the last few weeks they hadn't spoken, about how she'd managed to complete her transfer to college in New York. Marinette was a wonderful person and she didn't deserve all that had happened in the last few months. Even with everything that was happening, she managed to put a smile on her face and worry about other people.
"I found two things. "He said cutting the subject." Aunt Sabine stayed in the room with another family. The name of the woman who went into labor was Jannet Drake. She had a girl, dark hair, blue eyes... Same description as the girl her mother had. She was born healthy, 40 weeks old and without any physical problems, but died a few hours after delivery." Peter paused looking at his friend in front of him. "Apparently she had an older son named Timothy Drake. I'll send you a file on her along with the name of the nurse who took care of her and your mother. Maybe this can help you get an idea…"
Marinette smiled when she saw her friend on the screen. He was worried, it was visible in his eyes. "Thank you Peter. I don't know how to thank you for what you just did, this is already a start to understand what happened. I'll need to do some exams this week, but I should have the surgery in a maximum of 4 days... At the moment I'm finalizing some pending issues of the company, but everything should be ready by tomorrow."
"Shouldn't you be resting? Mars, I know you're a person who doesn't like to stop and works to not worry about problems, but you need to take care of yourself."
"I know, I'm just sending emails to get everything organized …" She looked at the time in her notebook and took a deep breath. "I need to hang up, I'm going to have lunch with my parents in a little while and get some things organized before the surgery. Can we talk later?"
"Whenever you want and need it! Tell your parents I sent my regards and that I will call later."
"Tell the others I sent a kiss to everyone out there too. Oh and Peter... please don't talk to anyone about the surgery...."
"You know it's impossible to hide these kinds of things from them, don't you? He smiled a little forcedly. "I’m not even going to tell them that I talked to you so as not to generate questions, although I find it very difficult to hide something from them…"
"I know, just don't bring it up. What I don't want is half of the tower members around here, that would be stressful." She smiled slightly "You know how they are... Take care out there and send me news…"
"Always Mars. Take care of yourself!"
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noyzinerd · 9 months
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My Sterek snippets-Part 2
As promised, two more, separate, but related, snippets from my wip "Pseudology" (that I have no idea how to connect).
*
"So, let me get this straight. You know that I like you?"
"Yes."
"And I now know that you like me?"
"Yes."
"But you and I aren't ever going to do anything about it?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Because we like each other too much…? And since getting together is only going to end badly for the both of us, we're not even going to try. Am I getting this right?" He couldn't help the exasperated, annoyed tone that came out with those words.
Even if he didn't outwardly show it in his words, Derek's tight lipped half smile was more than enough of an indicator that he understood Stiles' feelings way too well. "Exactly."
Stiles roughly scratched his short nails over his scalp, through his hair, at the mere thought of how close he had been to having Derek this whole time, to still being able to have him, if it weren't for the unbelievably aggravating cock-block that was their morals.
Derek liked him. He had liked him. Stiles was having a really hard time wrapping his head around this new revelation. Around the fact that Derek goddamn Hale had feelings for him. Moreover, it actually sounded like Derek was friggin' head over heels, over the fucking moon for Stiles! The guy had been for years! YEARS! At the same exact time Stiles had been pining over him too. He had had a chance and he hadn't even known it.
What was worse was that, not even 20 whole minutes after finding out this lost opportunity of a lifetime, Derek was telling him that 'they' weren't going to be a thing. 'They' were never going to be a thing, because Derek was scared that trying to 'keep' Stiles was going to make him lose him forever. Derek had come up with this crazy plan for them to ignore both of their feelings and pretend like they weren't attracted to each other. For the rest of their lives.
And that wasn't even the craziest part about all this.
No, the craziest thing was that Stiles had goddamn fucking agreed to this! Because his stupid, overwhelmingly noble set of principles knew that, no matter how easy it would be to just lean in and kiss some sense into Derek, Stiles could never force him to do something he was so opposed to. Derek's mind seemed pretty set on yearning for Stiles from a distance until they both either moved on or died.
Hence, their current predicament.
Both desperately wanting to be with each other.
And at the same time, also desperately wanting to be anything but with each other.
Wanting to always be there to protect each other.
But also wanting to be as far away from each other as possible. To protect each other. From each other.
So, basically they wanted each other, but they also didn't want to want each other, while also not wanting to not want wanting each other.
God, this was all making his head hurt.
The sigh that left his body took most of his fight with it as it blew out his mouth. Stiles took a second to clench his hand painfully in his hair with a muffled, frustrated "AAAARGH!!!" into the elbow of his sweater (slightly startling Derek in the process), before composing himself and making one of the hardest, stupidest decisions in his young life.
"Okay," he said resignedly.
Without looking over at the man next to him, Stiles stared ahead wearily towards the gently sloshing pool as he forced himself to take all of the feelings of hope he had ever felt for him and Derek and smush them like a firefly under a really heavy book. He imagined catching every 'what if' scenario floating in his head in a butterfly net, tying off the overstuffed net, and drowning them all in a big jar of water. No more thinking about their hands accidentally brushing in the Jeep. No more happy thoughts about what it might have felt like to lay on Derek's broad chest as they read a book together. No more thinking about what it might have been like to have strong arms hugging him from behind. Or what it might have been like to steal Derek's toast from out of his hand in the morning because Stiles was late for work. Or elbowing each other at the sink they shared as they fought to brush their teeth at the same time. Or hearing someone whisper tenderly in his ear 'I love you' and actually mean it for once.
As painful as it was, Stiles knew that it would be worse moving forward with the want of something more when he knew he and Derek weren't going to happen. He had to accept that. It would be unfair to keep pushing his expectations onto Derek, knowing that Derek couldn't give him that, and Stiles wasn't sure he would be able to survive another Lydia-esque type of relationship of desperately throwing himself at someone for ten years until he finally got deemed worthy enough for attention.
In the end, this was what would be the best for them.
It had to be.
Stiles couldn't afford to think otherwise.
*
"Okay, you know what? That's it." Stiles jumped to his feet, whirling angrily to stare down at Derek. The conviction in his eyes was eerily similar to the fed up, no-nonsense, 'here's how this is going to go' look Stiles had leveled him while 'harbouring his fugitive ass'. Derek had already known he wasn't going to win this argument the moment Stiles had opened his mouth. Even though Stiles hadn't laid into him yet, he knew he wouldn't stand a chance against all the well-thought out, overanalyzed points Stiles had probably gone over in his head thousands of times. Derek was going to lose and Stiles would end up being his boyfriend whether he liked it or not, and there was nothing he could do about it. A part of him was scared shitless at the idea, fully preparing to go down claws swinging.
Another part of him was on the edge of its seat with perked ears, desperate for Stiles to prove him wrong.
"I. Am. So. Done. You hear me? I'm tired, Derek. I'm tired of always being the responsible one. I'm tired of investigating glowing keys instead of making out with hot girls. I'm tired of studying werewolf migrations while Scott makes out with whatever girlfriend he happens to be with. I'm tired of stopping Alphas when I finally get first seat in lacrosse. I'm tired of driving the girl I've wanted for years to a dance to show up her ex. I'm tired of letting a girl work out her PTSD on my dick. I'm tired of getting carpal tunnel from writing six extra pages of notes for everybody in every class because being a werewolf apparently means never having time to study and dropping out of classes on a dime! More than anything, I'm tired of being miserable for the sake of everyone's happiness and then pretending I'm not miserable, because me having problems in my life would be inconvenient for everybody. Especially when an ID tag needs to be pickpocketed or blue prints need to be printed out. I've stepped aside for you and the rest of the pack for years and dammit if I can't get to have at least one thing that makes me happy. We're done doing what you want this time, Derek, alright?"
"Stiles, I'm not just going to go back on what I believe is best for us just because you find it unfair. You think I like teaming up with Peter every time Beacon Hills has a crisis? Do you think I like living with that son of a bitch? Sharing the same air as him? The bastard killed my sister! We all have to do things we don't want to do, put up with things we don't like, because we have to. Life is unfair. Some of us don't get to go to the Winter Formal, let alone take the girl of our dreams, because some of us no longer had a place to live. You want to complain about school, lacrosse, problems with your best friend? You're lucky to have had any of those at all! You have so much to be happy for. You don't need me to have that. In fact, you have more to lose being with me. So much. Being with me is just going to fuck it all up, Stiles. Why can't you see that?"
"Alright, Derek. Kid gloves are coming off. Wanna play hard ball? I'll play hard ball. You have three reasons why we can't be together. One: you think you'll get me hurt. Two: you think you're a bad relationship magnet. Three: you think all the terrible supernatural stuff that happens to me is your fault. Let's break 'em down. Number one: I'm going to get hurt with or without you. When you were here, we were attacked by the Kanima. When you left for South America, I was possessed by the Nogitsune. When you were here, I was attacked by Gerard Argent. When you were gone, I was attacked by a chimera and the ghost riders. Not everything is about you, Derek. I get hurt. The people of Beacon Hills are just in a hot spot of weird and that's not your fault. Number two: you're not the only one of us that's been in a string of awful relationships. They happen. But, you know what? That doesn't mean good relationships and good people don't exist. The moment you doubt the likelihood of your relationship, you're dooming it to fail. And finally, number three: if there's anyone to blame for not having a normal life, it's me. I was the one who dragged Scott into the woods because I was a dumb kid that wanted to see a dead body, which I can't even begin to apologize for, and who abandoned Scott in the woods to be attacked. I got him into this whole werewolf mess in the first place, not you. If you want to get technical, Peter was the one who bit him if you want to blame someone. My point is: all of your reasons are stupid and are just there to keep up your brooding aesthetic, so you're going to shut your trap, quit displaying your dominance over everything, and listen to what I have to say for once. When—not if, when—we get out of here, you, Derek Samson Hale, are going on a fucking date with me. You are going to hold my goddamn hand while we watch a movie on my couch, preferably Star Wars but I'm willing to haggle. We are getting greasy take-out food, going out for ice cream cones, and looking over some kind of sparkly body of water or bright star constellations or-or city lights from a cliff or whatever twinkly shit is romantic that night until it gets way too cold. And don't think I'm taking it easy on you either. Oh, no. I'm going to be the cutest, most charismatic motherfucker you've ever seen. I'm talking full head-on-shoulder action during the movie, nonstop little half-smiles all day long, dropping a shit-ton of quarters out of my wallet while trying to find a bill smaller than a 50, and if you think for one second that I'm not going to boop you on the nose with my ice cream when you least expect it before licking it off your face, you better think again. I fully intend on charming the pants off you. Whether or not that's literal is up to you. That all okay with you?"
It was scary and new and he felt vulnerable and raw and it hurt to hope, but Stiles—smart, beautiful, cunning Stiles—was finally ripping down all of his carefully crafted excuses and telling him that it was okay to chase after something that made him happy.
"Okay."
[Part 1 of snippets]
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raina-at · 4 months
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Fic writer 20 Questions
Thanks for the tag, @khorazir!
How many works do you have on AO3?
29 fics, three J2 RPS, 1 Supernatural, the rest is Sherlock.
What’s your total AO3 wordcount?
490,267 (though I have to add that a lot of my old fics aren’t on AO3, my overall word count must be well over a million.)
What fandoms do you write for?
In the past, Star Wars, Supernatural, Harry Potter, RPS. Right now it’s Sherlock, and has been for a while. And I don’t see that changing any time soon.
What are your top five fics by kudos?
Bakers with Benefits
Don’t Read the Last Page
Running Obliquely
Take Two
All I Want for Christmas (is Proof)
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I always respond to comments, or at least I try my best to. It’s only polite, people took time to give me feedback, the least I can do is to thank them for their time. 
 What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I don’t do angsty endings, my fics all end happily ;-)
What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Hm. Well. All my fics end on a happy note, but for me, it’s probably Spare Parts because that happy ending was the one I felt was the hardest won. But I do have a soft spot for the last chapter of Bakers with Benefits, because that was also a long road, both for Sherlock and for me.
Do you get hate on fics?
Hasn’t happened so far. Granted, I only posted one of my many, many Wincest stories, so maybe if I had more of them on AO3, but as it stands, I never got hate on one of my fics, and I hope it stays this way. The odd rude comment, but no hate.
Do you write smut?
Yup. But not a lot of it. I find the older I get the less smut I write, probably because it’s starting to feel repetitive. Which is funny, because I’ve written hundreds of love confessions and I never get tired of those. 
Do you write crossovers?
Not yet. If the inspiration strikes, I might yet write one, but so far I haven’t.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I’m aware of. I’m not on Wattpad and the likes, so there might be some stolen copies of my works out there, but who knows. Someone once told me about this person who plagiarized one of my J2 fics and re-wrote it as a Degrassi het fic, but the person had already deleted their account, so I couldn’t verify it. That was… bizarre. 
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes, several. Speak Now was translated into Spanish, Bakers with Benefits into French and Without Complexities or Pride into Russian.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
My darling wife @nuttersinc and I co-wrote thousands of words of fic. We hosted fests and LJ communities, ran an online RPG together and co-wrote a huge fic series that we abandoned when we both fell out of that fandom at the same time. We haven’t been in the same fandom since back in our Supernatural days, but we did just about everything fandom spouses can do together except host a podcast ;-)
14 .  What’s your all time favourite ship?
I mean… Johnlock just has The Dynamic down to a science. You can do so much with them. You can do anything. They’re so wonderfully perfect for each other in all their fucked-up, flawed, deeply human glory. But having said that, I have a weak spot deep in my heart for Mulder and Scully, because they were so important to me as a teenager, and they led me to fandom and fanfic. They’re the first ship that truly owned my soul. So a part of my heart will always belong to them.
(They also led me to my second favourite het ship of all time, Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane, because Mulder compared himself and Scully to Peter and Harriet in one of my favourite fics, so of course I had to go read the books, and man, that’s a Dynamic, right there. Two whip-smart, emotionally extremely vulnerable people both desperately wanting and being deadly scared of true intimacy. I eat that up with a spoon. Also love the ‘man totally besotted with the smart, independent woman cutting his ego down to size’ dynamic.)
15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Oh, so MANY. I never post WIPS because I want to feel free to abandon stories whenever, so I’m the only one haunted by my WIP folder, but there’s a few in there I would really like to come back to one of these days. But never say never, the first three pages of Nothing Gold Can Stay sat in there for MONTHS, gestating. You never know.
16. What are your writing strengths?
I can only say what I enjoy writing, I hope that joy translates itself to the page. I love writing dialogue and I think I’m pretty good at it. I think I’m good at pacing, and I think I’m good at making people Feel Things.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I sometimes lose patience with plot. Because I mostly use plot as a means for character development, I sometimes lose patience with my own plots. That mostly happens in the fics I don’t finish, and it’s mostly the reason I don’t finish the fic. I’m also not especially good at handling large casts of characters, many of my fics have very few characters.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic? 
Honestly, it hasn’t come up yet. I would only do it in German, because that’s my native language, otherwise I’d be too worried to get it wrong. I don’t generally like it when conversations aren’t translated. Othewise I have no strong feelings about it.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Wrote? X-Files. Posted? Roswell.
20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?
Oh, that’s hard. The ones I loved writing the most are probably Take Two and my J2 highschool AU. I wrote both very quickly in a sort of fugue state, and it just feels amazing when that happens. The one I enjoy re-visiting the most? Bakers with Benefits.
Tagging @keirgreeneyes @jrow @discordantwords @thetimemoves and anyone else who wants to do this.
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Don't Speak 20
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)
Character: librarian!Andy Barber
Note: Andrew is back.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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“I want you to take this,” Dr. Kemp turns back to you, holding a spiral notebook with black and white cover, “and I want you to use it.”
You stare, uncertain as he crosses the room. Use it? How?
“You can write down your feelings, you can make lists for yourself, you can track the days…” he explains, “but I want you to put something in it every day. Can you do that for me?”
You look at the notebook as he holds it out. You slowly take it with both hands, lowering it to your lap as you run your thumbs up and down the cover. It’s brand new. You can smell the freshness of the paper.
“Can I draw in it?” You ask.
“Sure, if that’s what works for you,” he affirms, “that’s for you. You can bring it with you to our next appointment, but you don’t need to show me anything. It’s just there so you can record your moods and anything that might be a trigger for you.
“Oh,” you look up at him shyly, meeting his bold blue eyes for only a second before dropping your head.
“This is a safe place, alright? I want you to think of it like that. Everything within these walls stays between us. Our little secret.”
“Okay,” you hug the notebook to your chest.
“And I want you to set yourself a little goal every day. Nothing big, alright? It could be a shower, it could be reading a chapter of a book, it could be as simple as walking around the house,” he continues, “but you can’t stay in bed all the time. You gotta take care of yourself. You have to give yourself love and those things are the best sort of love.”
You nod and rock slightly, “yes, doctor. Are we… done now?”
“Are we?” He bends and crosses his arms over the back of the empty chair, “that’s up to you.”
“I… I think. I don’t wanna waste any more of your time.”
“Waste? No. See? Don’t talk about yourself like that. You didn’t waste my time, you enriched it,” he smiles, you see only a glimpse of how it brightens his features. “I think you should go home and get some rest. You came all the way here and you did a really good job.”
He pushes himself straight, “I’ll have my receptionist schedule a follow-up.”
“Thank you, doctor,” you stand and pick at the corner of the notebook.
“You let Andy take care of you too, huh? He’s worried,” he extends his arm, directing you to the door, “he’s a good friend of mine.”
“Uh, alright,” you murmur as he walks with you to the door. He rests his hand on the handle and you smell his cologne, rich but overwhelming. 
“It was really nice meeting you,” he turns the handle slowly.
“You too,” you squeak.
“See ya around,” he opens the door, “and remember, take care of you.”
“Thanks,” you keep your chin down as you exit.
Andy sits in the waiting room at the edge of his seat. He grips his knees and stands swiftly as he sees you. He must’ve been waiting a very long time. That felt like it lasted forever. The tension in his forehead slackens as you approach.
“How was it, honey? You okay?” He asks, his tone slightly addled.
“Yes, er, maybe,” you answer, “I don’t know.”
“What’s that?” He taps the top of the notebook.
“Um, a journal.”
“Steve gave that to you?”
You nod.
“That’s very nice of him. Well, how about we stop and buy you some nice pens to write in it?”
“You don’t have to…”
“I have to grab a few things,” he interjects, “I kind of… fell behind. I haven’t been out of the house, you know? I couldn’t leave you, I was so worried.”
“Oh? What about work?” You wonder tremulously.
“I had some time banked, it’s really not a big deal, but I gotta grab some groceries and we can look at some cute pens…”
“Can’t… can’t you do it later?”
He doesn’t answer right away. He rubs his beard and exhales. “Well, I’d have to drop you off and then come all the way back–”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you blurt out as you hear his disappointment, “I’m sorry, no, we can go, I just… I’m tired, is all.”
“It’s okay, honey. We’ll try to be fast, how about that?”
You nod and hide behind your lashes. Your guilt flows over and chokes you tightly. He brought you all the way here and missed work and it’s all your fault. Because you’re broken and useless.
“I’ll… I’ll try to make dinner,” you suggest, “Dr. Kemp says I should set goals.”
“Alright, sounds good,” Andy softens, “we should get going before it’s too busy.”
🕊️
You sit in the car, fluttering through the blank pages as Andy drives. You should write about your appointment. Put down everything that Dr. Kemp said before you forget. That’s a good plan. He’s right, it’s easy to set small goals.
“Hey, uh, I uh, can I talk to you?” Andy turns down the music.
“Er sure,” you shrug.
“Right, um, I wasn’t sure when to– or how to– I don’t wanna upset you, you know that, right? That I wouldn’t hurt you?” He begins, fingers tapping on the steering wheel.
You blink and stare at the dashboard, “I know, Andy. You’ve… done a lot for me.”
“I wouldn’t put it like that. It’s not… I don’t consider it a task, but er, the other day, I wanted to say sorry,” he clears his throat, squirming in his seat, “I should’ve knocked.”
Your throat tightens and you sit back stiffly. Your whole body locks up as the memory enshrines you. The damp air, the hot water, him staring at you, at your naked body.
“No,” you utter, “no, I don’t want to talk about it.”
He’s quiet as he turns the wheel, “sorry, sweetie, like I said, I don’t want to upset you. I just want… I’m just sorry for bursting in like that. I never want you to feel unsafe. Especially with me.”
“I… don’t,” you sniff, “it was just… a mistake. Can we forget it?”
“Sure,” he accepts, “yeah, let’s just forget it.”
“Thanks,” you lean into the door, watching the traffic through the window. 
Your body is covered in goosebumps. You feel like he’s seeing it all again. Just talking about it makes you feel exposed. What he must have thought about you. Hideous and gross.
“Here we are,” Andy says as the blinker clicks loudly.
He steers into a large lot and you peer up at the mall marquee. What are you doing here? You thought he was going to the grocery store?
“I got coupons for the place in here,” he explains as if reading your mind, “they just opened it, put it where the Target was.”
“Oh… I… never come here…”
“I think you’ll like it. They have everything– damn, not a lot of spots left. We’ll have to walk a bit.” He rolls into a space, “might be good for you to stretch your legs. We can always sit if you need to.”
You don’t argue. You feel bad enough. You won’t get in his way again.
“Sure.”
You get out and leave the notebook on the seat. Andy waits for you by the bumper and you follow him up the row of cars. You stop and wait to cross to the nearest entrance. The place is vast and makes your heart pound. There’s so many people coming and going through the many doors.
Inside, you feel a greater sense of doom. Shoppers brushing too close, teens speaking loudly in large groups, children screaming and mothers with strollers. Unthinkingly you grab onto Andy’s arm, keeping close to him.
“Hey,” he looks down at you as he leads you through the wide walkway.
“Just… don’t wanna get lost,” you cling to him tighter at the thought.
“That’s alright,” he smiles and looks around, “oh, hey…” He pulls you over to a shop window, “look at that.”
He points to the dress on the mannequin. It’s a nice shade of blue with the silhouette of birds patterned across it. Very pretty but you don’t wear dresses.
“Cute, huh?”
“Yeah.”
He stares, unmoving. You glance around. Where is the grocery store? You just want to leave this place.
“Come on,” he tugs you towards the entrance of the shop, “we can see if they have it in your size.”
“What? No. Andy. That’s okay. I don’t… I don’t need a dress.”
He stops just inside, “maybe, but do you want it?”
You chew your cheek, “I don’t know…”
“Look, you really don’t have that many clothes. I didn’t want to embarrass you but I spoke with Steve and he said… maybe it would be good to get you some new things. Like a refresh. Start new–”
“You said. You said we came to get groceries.”
“We did, honey, but I left this out. I was trying to surprise you. I thought– I thought it was a nice surprise.”
You see his expression fall. Oh no. You feel awful. You’re not trying to complain or be ungrateful, you just hate crowds and all these strangers.
“I… okay, it is nice. Andy,” you let go of him, “really, it’s so nice. No one ever… Amber always got me handmedowns, but I never…” you put your hands behind you and bounce on your toes, “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine, I know it’s all very new. I wasn’t trying to upset you or scare you,” he says, “maybe we could just look online.”
It’s clear he’s disappointed, if not agitated. You feel rotten. You remind yourself of all that he’s done and every time, you just whine like a baby.
“No, we can look around…” you try to smile.
He gives you a thoughtful look then peeks around the shop, “alright… well, you wanna try the dress on?”
You wince. You typically didn’t try things on at the thrift shop. You just picked things that looked like they would fit. The idea of getting undressed here, even in a private stall, is scary. Don’t be a baby.
“Okay,” you acquiesce, “I could do that.”
“Great,” he says and claps his hands.
He spins on his heel and you trail him as he confidently weaves between the tables and other shoppers. He stops before the dresses hung behind the window and sifts through the hangers. He slips one of the blue ones off the rod and holds it up.
“I think this is your size? I’m not sure.”
“Looks like,” you mutter, “um, I’ll… try it.”
“We can look at a few other things,” he offers.
“Maybe after?”
“Alright,” he searches around and flags down one of the employees, “excuse me, she wants to try this one.”
“Wonderful,” the woman chimes and takes the hanger from him, “just the one?”
“For now,” Andy smiles.
“This way, sweetheart,” the woman says as she beckons you with her long acrylic nails.
You follow her and Andy brings up the rear. She takes you around the counter and through a doorway. A row of stalls line the wall and she unlocks one with a key, hanging the dress inside. She steps back and leaves the door open for you.
“It’s all yours. Let me know if I can get you anything else. My name’s Isa.”
“Thanks,” you murmur mousily and she grins before strutting off.
“I’ll be out here,” Andy says as he sits on the bench.
You enter the changing room and close the door, certain to slide the bar through the loop. You turn and see yourself in the mirror. You flinch. You look down at your feet, refusing to acknowledge your reflection.
You undress then grab the dress. You pull down the zipper and shimmy it on. You strain to pull the zipper back up and fix the skirt so it hangs down properly. The skirt ends above your knees.
“Everything okay?” Andy calls from outside.
“Good,” you squeak and turn to face the door. You grab the side of the skirt, holding it firmly as you slide open the lock. You open the door reluctantly and reveal yourself. You clutch the other seam, “I think it’s a bit short.”
Andy looks at you. His cheek twitches as he sits up and smiles, “really? Looks fine to me…” he stares, making you squirm, “looks really nice on you, dove.”
“I don’t know…”
He nods and bites his lower lip, “it’s whatever you want.”
There it is again. Disappointed. You look down. It’s not that short and it is pretty. You could put a sweater over it and maybe some leggings underneath.
“I’ll get it,” you raise your head, “thanks, Andy.”
“Of course,” he says brightly.
You retreat into the dressing room and change back into your own clothes. You slip the dress back onto the hanger and bring it out with you. He takes it from you and guides you back into the shop. He stops you at a rack of jewelry.
“Look,” he grabs a silver necklace with a bird charm, “it’ll go with the dress.”
“Oh, sure,” you agree. Whatever he wants, you’ll get. You’d hate to overstep and you don’t exactly have a good sense of style. “Very pretty.”
“Let’s just have a look around, you never know… maybe find some nice shoes too?”
You nod and let him lead the way. As you progress through the shop, he picks out more things; some skirts, a sweater, some shirts, more jewelry, even some belts. He has an armful by the time you approach the checkout. You wring your hands. That’s a whole lot of stuff.
“Someone’s birthday?” Isa asks as she greets you at the counter.
“Uh, no, just… shopping,” Andy answers, “she needed a few things.”
“A few?” Isa scoffs, “I wish I had a husband who would spoil me with just a few things.”
“Husband?” You blanch.
Andy chuckles, “she deserves it.”
You notice how he doesn’t correct her. Maybe he feels too awkward. Like you.
“Sir, would you like to buy one of our membership cards? It’ll get you twenty percent off today’s purchase.”
“Hmm, I don’t know,” he pulls out his wallet, “how much?”
“It’s twenty dollars annually, gets you ten percent off every purchase.”
“Not bad, sure, why not? We might be back.”
“Andy,” you say softly.
He ignores you as he gets his card free. You watch the total mount as Isa scans each item. Somehow, this doesn’t feel like a favour. It’s just another number to add to the tally of what you owe him.
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prettygoododds · 6 months
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20 Questions for fic writers
Thanks @wellbelesbian for tagging me. Such fun questions! Tags below the cut.
How many works do you have on AO3
68! Wow, I did not realize this.
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
134,335
3. What fandoms do you write for?
The Carry On Series aka Simon Snow fandom aka Snobaz
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
When the Ink Dries
Can I Change My Mind (this one blows my mind, how it continues to stay at the top)
Namaste Away
Every Lover Has A Little Dagger In Their Hand
We're So Starving
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or Why not?
I try to, but I'm very bad at it. It's something I need to work on.
6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
We Were Pity Sex, Nothing More and Nothing Less It doesn't even pretend to be kind.
Also, I'm Right Where You Left Me It's short, but cuts right to the bone.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Most of mine do have a happy ending (when I go sad, I go hard). If I had to choose a few, I suppose:
Where Did the Party Go?
Believe
Namaste Away
8. Do you get hate on fics?
No. Had a few recommendations on how to tag a few works, or to make it more user friendly but everyone has always been very kind with those suggestions. The Carry On fandom is a really good fandom.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I'm slowly dipping my toes in that water. I've posted a few works that have smut, but I'm still very tentative about it. I don't know what kind really. Regular?
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
I do not
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I'm aware of
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not to my knowledge
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I have not, but I'm not opposed to it.
14. What's your all time favorite ship?
Snobaz, hands down. It's the one I come back to every time. My comfort ship.
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I have 2 WIP currently and both of those will be finished. My other WIP not on AO3 are just sitting in my google docs, where no one can see them shivering in the corner, neglected.
16 What are your writing strengths?
Oof. I'd like to think I'm good at dialogue.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Descriptions and setting a scene. I'm working on it though, and that's the important bit I suppose *shrugs shoulders in Simon*
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
Not something I've attempted. I won't say I never will, but I will probably not unless I absolutely have to
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Somewhere, in the depths of fanfic.net are my abandoned Twilight fics. And that is where they will stay until the death of the planet.
20. Favorite fic you've written?
I have a few and when I'm questioning why I think I should be doing this at all, I read them to remember I started because I wanted to write the stories I wanted to read.
When The Ink Dries - I started this fic waaaaay before I ever posted it and it was the reason I decided to participate in my first Carry On Big Bang. It's my fic first born.
I'm Not A Pitch - This fic popped my AO3 cherry. I posted it before I could second guess myself. It's full of errors, but I wouldn't change anything about it.
Vibe Check - I wrote this in a few hours when I was feeling silly and it is still one of my favorites
Who Wants Ramen? - My friend and I giggled endlessly when I plotted this one out.
You Can Call Me Babe for the Weekend - I spend a lot of time listening to music and plotting out the story that a 3-4 minutes song can tell. 'Tis the Damn Season was an immediate movie in my head and as soon as I could plot it out and put it on paper (so to speak) I did.
And last but not least Sugar, We're Going Down Swingin - This is pure self indulgence. I got into hockey, I wanted the boys to be hockey players...bam, here's a fic with almost no hockey in it, but sometimes they talk about it.
I'm don't know who's already been tagged, so sorry if I double up:
@facewithoutheart @imagineacoolusername @artsyunderstudy @shemakesmeforget @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ionlydrinkhotwater @rimeswithpurple @aristocratic-otter @cutestkilla @blackberrysummerblog @nausikaaa @supercutedinosaurs @nightimedreamersworld @valeffelees @iamamythologicalcreature @shrekgogurt @ileadacharmedlife @martsonmars @you-remind-me-of-the-babe
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metalheadmickey · 3 months
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fic writer interview
i was tagged by the luminous @energievie & @suzy-queued to fill this bad boy out! i remember doing this last year too, how fun! 🩷
1. How many works do you have on AO3?  I've got 20 on there now!
2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 143,320
3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? kinda raw, float, cinematic, and i'm your warm receiver, watching. the four after kinda raw are all pretty close together in terms of kudos, but kinda raw has a lot more kudos than the one after it and i don't understand why. i have written better fics lmfao! y'all are just nasty. and honestly i appreciate that.
4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? i try to always respond, but sometimes it gets away from me! i just really appreciate people taking the time to leave a comment, and i want to show that appreciation.
5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? i don't think any of mine have been angsty!
6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? they're all happy, but it might be you outshined the best there was just because of the nature of the story. soft dads, seen from mickey's perspective as he grows into fatherhood over the course of a year, but also so, so plotless. soft!
7. Do you write crossovers? no and i doubt i ever will. one of my very favorite conversations though is when my husband and i insert characters from other media we like into star trek tng or ds9. it's so dumb and so funny. lmao what if i wrote it
8. Have you ever received hate on a fic? yeah! once, on one of my favorite fics, ligature. they told me i should sterilize myself because i'm glorifying abuse by writing bdsm, it's a good read
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i almost exclusively write smut! nasty and loving. i don't know how to describe it but whenever i think i've written something disgusting i inevitably get comments about how sweet it is. which, yeah, it's not like they're mutually exclusive ways to fuck. so yeah, sweet and dirty husbands
10. Have you ever had a fic stolen? i don't think so! i mean i hope not
11. Have you ever had a fic translated? nope!
12. Have you ever co-written a fic before? i haven't, but i've collaborated on a couple of projects with my dear friend @heymrspatel! i wrote and she made art for cinematic and honeycomb. cinematic was more julissa making art for parts i'd already written, but honeycomb especially was a collaborative process with the way that a bunch of what i wrote was based on things that julissa was visualizing for her art, so parts of it did feel like co-writing. it was the most fun i've had working on anything!
13. What’s your all-time favorite ship? don't make me choose between the angel who fell in love with a faithless man, and the closeted thug who fell in love with the kid who had it bad for him and ultimately had the most satisfying ending. destiel and gallavich are both such incredibly compelling ships!! aahhh!!
14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? if there's something i'm not going to finish, it's generally because it became something i didn't want to work on anymore.
15. What are your writing strengths? describing physical sensation and emotional impact, dialogue
16. What are your writing weaknesses? exposition
17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? i like evie's idea of just indicating that they've switched to another language without actually writing the language out
18. What was the first fandom you wrote for? gallavich
19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to? i really want to write destiel smut. i think the nonhuman element could be fun to play with. i've read a lot of grace sex and that shit is soooooo. hot. i want to try my hand at it.
20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? this changes so often! one i come back to a lot is chapter two of 2022's kinktober collection, the prompts were wax & "yeah, that's it baby, just like that" and i wrote some wax play and i suppose cockwarming although it's not tagged as such. i also really fucking love lush, it's inspired by one of julissa's pieces and it's drunk lovemaking and breathplay. i also need to shout out a newer one, beauty in simplicity from this year's kinktober collection. mickey getting his ass eaten on the kitchen table. there's three fics! i don't care!
tagging @howlinchickhowl @whatwouldmickeydo @whatthebodygraspsnot @gallawitchxx @ohkate @sam-loves-seb @sisitrip @crossmydna @thisdivorce @mmmichyyy @arrowflier if you guys feel like playing 🖤
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Hello, I was wondering if you have any prongsfoot fic recommendations?
I’m pretty new to the ship (and fan fiction) and it appears to overrun with literally ever other ship. So I hope you don’t mind my asking.
I appreciate any help you willing to give me.
💜💜💜
Hi hayati <3333 yes ofc with pleasure. fair warning: my taste in fic (and especially prongsfoot) is sometimes very questionable so check the tags before reading anything.
Pioneers (134k, complete) is like. one of the most popular legendary longfics in the fandom. if toxic/unhealthy codependent dynamics is your thing, it's a must-read. the atyd of j/s except its actually good
On Fire, But We Can't Feel A Thing (100k, 20/?) by @benjamin-ovich is my most re-read fic ever, i am obsessed with it. also a little unhealthy but they're trying lol. amnesia, getting back together, lots of pain for the soul, can not recommend this one enough, seriously. (make sure to subscribe bc i was promised that more fucked up prongsfoot is coming our way)
the ghost of you, it keeps me awake (50k, 12/?) by @gracelesslady23 is a james comes back au set during ootp that I really really love, it tackles all the important issues in this timeline.
Em also has another new wip called you'll see me in hindsight which is an age gap fic where Sirius accidentally time jumps 22 years forward when he is 18. and it's just. soul crushing and drool inducing all at once. mwah.
Anything at all by @padfootastic on the blog or AO3 because I'm obsessed with the way Pen writes them. Some personal favs of mine are i fall to pieces, we should be lovers instead, this unholy smut drabble that's still stuck in my head.
KaiSkitty (@roalinda) has a lot of great works, including the on-going Heaven fic, which is an age-gap, james-comes-back au with a really great premise and amazing worldbuilding.
@siriuslystarbucks's AO3 is an absolute goldmine for anything Prongsfoot, whatever you might want. I aspire to reach this level of dedication one day. The most recent one I've read is Just Come Home, with a s/omc toxic relationship and pining James and a happy ending.
@mycupofrum also posts amazing prongsfoot both here and on AO3. check out Bathe with me for some hot prefect bathroom smut.
@prongsfoot-microfic is an on-going event of daily j/s microfics.
And if I may humbly suggest :)) my own AO3 works as well. My most popular one is Benefits and my most fucked up favourite one is little do you know. + i have lots of things in progress for this month, so [pewdiepie voice] like and subscribe for more.
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thetimemoves · 4 months
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20 questions for fic writers
I was tagged by @raina-at @discordantwords and @totallysilvergirl, thank you!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
20
2. What's your total A03 word count?
57, 682. Not a lot for 20 works, but 10 of them are 221b ficlets. I only have one fic over 10k (it's just over 11.3k).
3. What fandoms do you write for?
BBC Sherlock
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
Never Trust to General Impressions
Abditory
Feel My Heart Banging Like a Gun
Out of Every Nowhere
Forth They Went Together
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Yes, I do. I'm so thrilled to get them and appreciate it when someone takes the time to leave a comment. It makes me giddy, it does!
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I like to end on a happy, or at least hopeful, note but occasionally angst comes out on top. I think it's probably a tie between these two: Paperweight, which is Sherlock's POV when Molly gives him John's letter at the end of TST; and With Regrets, which is John's POV as he says goodbye to Sherlock in the hospital after the beating in TLD.
Both are 221b ficlets, so at least it's a sharp punch of angst and not an extended bout? Not kidding about that punch, though (sorry not sorry).
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
This is a tough one, but I think these are probably the happiest:
bitter, sweet
Feel My Heart Banging Like a Gun
Abditory
8. Do you get hate on fics?
No, thankfully. Hopefully that continues.
9. Do you write smut?
I love me some good smut, but I don't write it (yet). Certain bits in Feel My Heart Banging Like a Gun and Steady as They Go are the closest I've come so far, but they're not smutty.
10. Do you write crossovers?
No. I don't. One of my WIPs is a Stand By Me/The Body (Stephen King) fusion, but I'm not interested in writing any crossovers right now.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I'm aware of.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes, which amazes me! Two have been translated into Russian.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
@splix71 and I began to plot out a Sherlock bounty hunter AU I had initially come up with back in 2019. We had so much fun coming up with names and theories and plot points, so much fun. Unfortunately, she had to step back due to health reasons (FUCK CANCER) and afterwards I couldn't bring myself to go back to it. I doubt I ever will, as clever as I think some of the things we came up with were. I don't know that there is a place anymore for Baker Street Bonds, Yarders Bail Service, or Reichenbach Bail, but I will always treasure the time we spent on it together (that she, a most amazing writer, wanted to write something with me, still blows my mind).
14. What's your all-time favourite ship?
Mulder/Scully and Sherlock/John.
15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I have a Sherlock/John hunt the Bogeyman fic I've been poking at for YEARS. I love a lot of what I've written, but I wrote myself into a corner and haven't quite figured out how to get out. At this point I despair of ever finishing it, but never say never.
16. What are your writing strengths?
221b ficlets. I think I've done well with these in conveying lots of emotion in little moments.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Clever case fic and complicated plots. I can also get a bit wordy in my beginnings sometimes (ironic, considering my ability to write a strong 221b ficlet) and need a gentle nudge to cut to the action.
Also, if I'm going to be brutally honest, I tend to walk away too quickly when I get stuck and don't make myself work out the problem right then. Hence my many languishing WIPs.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I've not done it yet and don't see it happening down the road either.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
For published fic, BBC Sherlock. There might be some self-insert stories with River Phoenix in my very distant past.
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
Ooof, this is a hard one because every finished fic is a victory for me. That said, I'll always have a soft spot for Abditory. I had been in love with Sherlock since 2011 and devoured fic at an unholy rate, but was never dared write my own until 2017, after the last series. Better late than never, right? I also really loved writing Never Trust to General Impressions, with its slice-of-life looks at Sherlock and John's evolving relationship in relation to canon (with a not-so-canon twist on TRF). Funnily enough, both are 5+1 fics.
This was fun! I have loved reading all of these from everyone too. I'm going to be That Person and tag everyone who wants to do this but hasn't been tagged yet. Please do share!
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