#also ive noticed my fics are getting progressively longer

[ms--lobotomy]

I heard some of you were looking for Kyle. Who am I if not a provider?

Summary: Abbadon wants a companion for the night.

Word Count: 1461

Content Warnings: General 40kness, smut, once my Catholic guilt arc is over it’s over for all of you

Image Credit: @squishyowl

You looked out of the window of your cell. It was the one comfort you had here, and the view was almost beautiful. Silent columns of lightning stretched out between magenta clouds, churning away faster than they ever could on any planet. Iron bars marred the view somewhat, but you had to take what you could get in this strange land. The rest of your cell was pitifully dreary, with a curtain closing off what resembled a restroom and a slab of… something that resembled a bed. You chose not to look at those parts. At least, not now.

You heard footsteps coming down the hall. They were heavy and loud, announcing the presence of maybe two or three members of the Black Legion. You barely turned your head from the window before they fiddled with the keys to your cell, almost ripping the bars off of each other. You recognized one’s speech in Low Gothic, but it took you a few moments to really process it.

“The Despoiler wants a word with you.”

You tensed up. They surely couldn’t mean… No matter. You put one foot in front of the other and joined the three hulking men outside your cell. One of them started to walk off, and another prodded you with his chainsword.

“Move.”

You had no choice but to follow these strange men through the halls of the base. You lost track of where you were early on, going into new and uncharted areas of the base. Granted, you’d only ever seen the prison, so this was not a failing of your navigational skills. You hadn’t time to marvel at the interior despite being confined to your cell for what felt like weeks, you and your captors were walking too fast. You had to slightly jog to keep up with them.

Soon enough, you were upon a large door. You ran your fingers along the intricate woodwork, not having felt varnished wood in ages. Two of those strange men looked down at you as you lowered your hand. Another one turned on his vox machine.

“She’s here,” he said, stepping back from the door. The others did so as well, prompting you to do the same.

After a few moments, the door clicked open. You beheld a man taller than the three around you, the first without a helmet that you’d seen in a long while. He had a long top knot at the top of his head, and his eyes bored into you, unreadable. You immediately looked away, trying not to shake in your poorly put together shoes.

“Leave,” he said as the three behind you turned tail and left, muttering to one another.

He watched them as they left before turning his gaze back to you. “You can come in, you know.”

You looked up at him and slowly walked into the room. It must be his private chambers; it was filled with ornate things that you couldn’t have even dreamed of while in your cell. Your eyes darted from the paintings on the wall to the table and chairs built for someone his size. He walked towards the bed, sitting on it as it slightly gave way underneath him. “Come,” he said, scooting over slightly.

“Why do you bring me here?” you asked, rubbing your upper arm with your hand.

He smirked. “I just wanted a bit of company tonight.” He called your name. It was a bit strange on his lips, but it was the first time someone had referred to you by name instead of number.

Was it night? It was impossibly hard to tell in this space between space. You found yourself walking towards the bed and sitting on it next to him as he took his gauntlets off, then his pauldrons, then the rest of the armor adorning his arms. You couldn’t help but notice rippling muscles as your heart beat quicker in your chest.

“Not like I have a choice in the matter,” you said after a moment.

He chuckled. “If you do not wish to be here, I could grab another.”

“No-“ you interjected before you could stop yourself.

He continued taking off his armor, pulling his breastplate over his head before casting it aside. “Good,” he said. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and you tensed up yet again.

“I will not hurt you, unless that is something you desire.”

You looked up at him. He was looking down at you with… reverence, almost. You felt your face go warm as he took your chin in his hand. His grip was firm, but you could tell that he was holding back.

He let go and leaned down to take off his lower armor, and you watched intently as pieces fell to the floor, softly clanking against other pieces. He looked down at you and smirked once he was finished. It was then when he leaned in for a kiss, pressing against soft skin. You were taken aback for a minute before you reciprocated. He grabbed your hips and turned the rest of you to face him, your legs resting against his waist.

He brushed the sides of your shirt up, fabric gathering underneath his hands. You let out a soft moan before freezing, and he pulled away.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

You slowly nodded. He went in for a kiss again, this time biting your bottom lip. You squeaked, grasping for his body glove. You felt him chuckle against you, hands moving underneath your shirt up your back. He pulled away again, his hands moving to your thigh.

“Take it off,” he barked.

Without hesitation, you pulled your shirt over your head. He looked down at you for a moment, running a hand over your body.

“Good girl,” he said, pressing you down onto the bed before planting his teeth on your collarbone. It wasn’t enough to draw blood, but it was going to leave a mark. You let out another high-pitched squeak, and he made another mark even lower. When he had his fill, he went down to your breast and took your nipple in his teeth.

“Abbadon…” you moaned as he bit you there. That was also going to leave a mark.

“What is it?” he asked before moving to your other side to do the same thing. You yelped, your fingers pressing into his back as he trailed lower. He was kneeling before you when he made his way between your legs, pulling your shoes and pants off and parting your legs with ease. He began to feast, eliciting soft cries from you. He reached places you thought someone could never reach, and before long, you came hard on him.

He pulled away, fiddling with the zipper on his body glove before taking it all off. You looked at him in awe before he pinned you down again, your fingers interlocking with his. He planted a quick kiss to your lips before he rubbed himself against you and you looked up at him, pleading.

“You will have to beg for it,” he said, grazing himself against you.

“Please…” you murmured. “Please put yourself in me. I want you.”

“More than anything you’ve ever wanted?”

“More than anything I’ve ever wanted.”

He put himself in, and you cried out. “You are taking me so well,” he said as he slid in further. You couldn’t form any cohesive sentences in response, so you let yourself cry out. He slid himself in to the hilt and stayed there for a minute, watching your face scrunch up and listening to your little yelps before he pulled himself out to do it all again. He started to go faster, and you felt your eyes rolling back. Here you were, stark naked, stretched out over him.

You came a second time, much more loudly and violently than the first. Abbadon smirked above you, victorious. His hands moved to your wrists as he kept going, and soon you realized how much stamina was granted to an Astartes. He kept you up long into the night before he started to speed up one last time. You were loud, and he stuck a few fingers in your mouth. He grunted something in his Cthonian tongue before he shot his load into you, once, twice, then a third time.

Liquid leaked out of you as he pulled himself out of you for the last time and shifted you fully onto the bed. He held you close to him. You relaxed into his hold as he ran a hand through your hair.

“You will not have to spend another day rotting in that cell,” he said.

You closed your eyes and sleep soon took hold of you. You slept better than you had in weeks.

@kit-williams

#ezekyle abbadon x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #space marine x reader #reader insert #ezekyle abbadon #warhammer lobotomy #hes got a yee yee ass haircut but also nice abs so #I know the khan has the same but he wears it better #also ive noticed my fics are getting progressively longer #im gonna write a novel guys. Brb #mating press march

[asummersday]

@imdefnotvanessa

3. describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

starting off strong lmfao

uhm.

okay so for oneshots, i'll just come up with an idea and i just kinda go from there, no actual outline or plan. i prefer my fics to have a happy ending, so i do have the end in mind, and its basically just "it ends with comfort and/or cuddles".

honestly, i only come up with a vague idea of what i want to happen and let the fic do its own thing.

for some of my longer works (three-shots or oneshots that go over 10k and have a plot), i'll come up with a mental list of the things i want to happen, no real outlines to worry about there either.

regarding fics with more than 3 chapters: i havent written those since 2020 (which is. wild) so i only have one example for this (since my last longfic was zero outline, just a core concept, "fuck it we ball". i like the energy 16 y/o me brought to the table tbh). what i did for all the ashes in my wake was that i made an outline (just filled with the major plot points in the fic, bullet point style) just to have a general direction to take the fic in.

then i made a chapter by chapter outline (that i update everytime i veer off-track or introduce something i didnt originally intend to add in (*cough* big mama *cough*)). i just jot down the basic things that will happen, how its gonna end, plus some basic notes regarding the progress of the internal + external conflicts. stuff to keep in mind and the such.

(sorry if this one is a bit all over the place, it's hard to really describe my creative process other than just saying "chaos and dozens of sticky notes")

15. how do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?

i've never actually written any smut scene. first, i think i'd be very bad at it, but also i've just never really wanted to write anything smutty.

20. have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

i DO actually have a common setting for patrol scenes!! i like to set those in warehouses more often than not. not sure why, maybe because it's such a generic bad guy location, or because it's a location that doesn't require too much research. when in doubt on where to set your patrol/fight scene, put em in a warehouse!

other than that, i like to compare my characters feeling dizzy/about to pass out to feeling like they're underwater/everything feels muffled/murky

similarly, when a character wakes up after passing out/being knocked out, i like to write "it was like breaching the surface of a murky pond" or something like that

(i wish i could put more here, im just very bad at noticing my own writing patterns lmao.)

26. which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

my one and only crackfic ghosts? in front of MY salad? where duke thomas decides the best sibling bonding activity is trying to summon a ghost when he lives in gotham city. this was written in one sitting at 3 in the morning, and you can tell.

here's a little gem from this nonsensical fic:

“So,” Duke said nervously. “Does anyone know how to unsummon a ghost?” Another lamp was knocked off a cabinet and smashed on the ground. Alfred was really not gonna be happy.

55. of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

hm. for this fandom, my favorite to write for is Leo (i dont think ive been subtle about that LMFAO)

the choice wasn't really swayed by followers or readers, he's just so easy to write for me because i relate to him (and raph) the most, and we share a similar sense of humor which really makes writing internal dialogue and his pov chapters easy for me. and this is especially true for ataimw, but im the oldest and i saw a lot of myself in leo when he was arguing with raph in the movie and i quite literally went "oh so he is EXACTLY like me during arguments"

i do HC leo as the younger twin, so with me being the oldest sibling, you would THINK raph would be easier to write for me but nope!! apparently not!!

(maybe its bc i see leo as having adhd like me and going "i can write that. I CAN WRITE THAT")

thank you for the ask!! <33

get to know your fic writer

#ask game

[disaster-fruit]

could you tell us more about the brarg family au with the 3 babies and trans luci?

I definitely can! This au has been living rent free in my head since i started that drawing and I was actually sketching more stuff for the AU right before I got this ask so- I definitely can ramble more about it

This was supposed to be just a collection of a few hcs and now it’s a multi-pages word document the size of a fanfic so – Im really sorry.

I didn’t think a lot about their backstories tbh, though I have it in my mind that Luciano transition in his late teens and that he and martin either met after that or knew each other before luciano came out, lost all contact, and then met again after (and you can blame oxiosas fic for that yeah im not even subtle)

But I imagine them having some sort of meet cute and kinda progressing really fast in their relationship without realizing – yk, its just a fling, no big deal, yeah ive met his parents, yes I basically spend every weekend in his apartment, yeah I have a spare key now, ops I guess we’re adopting dogs and plants together- oh I think we’re married. Yeah. We’re married.

Ok but for real Luci does the proper proposal-with-a-ring-and-knelt-down-on-a-special-day thing and Martin is just bright red saying yes over and over again

It is Afonso (port) the first to be all WHERE ARE MY GRANDCHILDREN like… the night of their wedding.

They live in a house in a not too big city with two dogs, one cat, one parrot and all the birds that Luciano feeds and names that aren’t actually theirs. Still, they choose the house with two spare rooms because they always talked about having two kids.

In this AU they can buy a nice house and don’t have to worry about money and can raise kids like the world isn’t ending.

I think right after they got married they got in line for adoption. However, everything indicated that it would take a long long time so they started talking about the possibility of trying to have a biological kid. I think luci was the one to suggest it when he noticed martin had been thinking about it but not saying anything for a while.

Lots of boring doctor visits and confused doctors looking at luciano and trying to process it like the dumb cishets they are. Boring exams and all that, but everything is on track eventually, luci pauses his hrt and keeps his jockstrap on the drawer and they’re googling the best positions for fertility on those weird cishet sites and doing it like bunnies etc etc

Getting pregnant the natural way after years of testosterone is not the easiest thing in the world, so it takes a while. But eventually it works.

Both of them are kinda freaking out with this whole first pregnancy thing. Martin is the ultimate protective husband, and spends way too much time on the internet finding out what luciano can and can’t eat, what exercises he should do, and going to every single doctor visit. He’s very committed to it.

Luciano has to drink non-alcoholic beer and hates life. There’s a single teardrop shed every time he buys it. And drinks a lot of lemonade like it’s the same as caipirinha. Poor guy. Martin doesn’t help on that, life isn’t fair, he buys his own beer.

But he also has to drive absurd lengths to find the weirdest fruit or make the most hideous, blasphemous pizza toppings because Luciano is constantly craving absurd shit. But poor baby actually really NEEDS that chicken M&M pizza at 8am.

They’re super proud daddies though, and both their instagrams at this point are just baby belly pictures. Luci had top surgery on this au on my hc so also. Lots of shirtless pics. He looks like an old uncle with a beer belly and he’s PROUD. Just. Baby bellies all over.

Martin picks the entire baby layette. Because of course he does.

Their baby shower is a huge deal though. Their dads are there, Antonio brings an entire trunk filled with diapers and tells everyone how many tincho used to need when he was a baby, Afonso is cooking for everyone and talking about how he’s gonna be a grandfather (!!!). Iracema (pindorama) is scolding Luci about his bad habits while also quietly being a super proud grandma. Zola (angola) bought toys because she knows that’s what kids actually like, Samero (Mozão) keeps asking if they installed all the necessary security stuff in their house – we will, chill, we still have some months to go – Vera (Tomé) is teasing Simão (Timor) about him no longer being the family baby, Fatima (g.bissau) is another one who bought a huge amount of diapers, Rosinha (cabo verde) is taking pictures of everyone and everything, Sebas and Dani are discussing if the kid should speak Portuguese or Spanish, Maria brought a huge pink plushy as a gift, it’s quite a party.

Once they’re late in the pregnancy, Luciano mostly spends his time on Martin’s oversized t-shirts asking for foot rubs and not getting much sleep because the baby keeps moving. Martin on the other hand is a little nervous about being a dad, but absolutely loves feeling the little kicks and talking to the baby all the time, except when its 3am and he wants to sleep but Luci cant because of it so he just does his best to keep him company. He mostly ends up falling asleep on his chest though and doesn’t help much

I wrote all of this but I still don’t have a name for the girl lol Anyway, she’s finally born, and if martin was overprotective when Luciano was pregnant, he’s ten times more with his baby girl. Tbh theyre both kinda going crazy with this whole parenting thing, both are overprotective, tired, and have no idea what theyre doing.

Zola and Sebastian are the girl’s godparents. Sebastian isn’t very good with kids so when he takes care of his niece he either puts on a tv show and lets her eat whatever crap she wants, or relies on Daniel to do the actual taking care, since he is good with kids.

Luciano and Martin are very much neurotic first-timers and have all this schedule of what their girl can eat and when and when she has to sleep etc etc.

When Zola takes care of her, she just ignores it and does it her way. She helped raised Luci since he was a baby anyway, he survived just fine and even married and reproduced, she knows what to do better than both the dumbasses, and they never even find out.

Afonso on the other had follows everything when he’s with his granddaughter, determined to be a better grandfather than he was a father, and the baby loves him so he’s doing a good job.

They’re a very cute family yes yes

She grows up well and happy, a bit shy maybe but very smart and sweet, loves the dogs and her aunts and uncles and granddads (afonso more than antonio though)

By the way, Iracema is soft like butter with her granddaughter.

When she’s about four or five years old they start talking about having a second one, considering the age difference and all. So back to doctors, Luci stops the hrt again and they go back to trying, but again it’s not the easiest thing in the world to do it naturally after years of hrt.

But god listens to the prayers of such good catholic family, and right after they start thinking about a second child, they receive the news they will finally get to adopt a baby.

Luciano is the one to receive the news, he’s working at home when the social worker comes to tell him they can finally adopt. He’s extremely happy, he hugs the poor lady and is barely able to concentrate as she explains the paperwork that is left and the details of it because he can’t stop smiling.

He immediately texts martin saying something like “CALL ME RIGHT NOW WE NEED TO TALK” and it’s in happy caps but martin understands it wrong and thinks someone is dying or dead but then his phone is what dies so he gets home as fast as he can thinking all the worst scenarios just to find luciano jumping on him with a smile for ear to ear. It’s such a shock he takes a while to react but when he does you have two idiots so happy they can’t function.

It’s another girl, she has big brown eyes like her sister and it’s a few months old.

They quickly reassemble the crib and paint the second room to get everything ready in time to take her home, and the next week or so it’s nothing but all the family visiting to meet their new baby.

Since they managed to adopt, they decided to stop trying to have another kid. Luciano goes back to the doctor do some routine exams so that he can go back to testosterone and the doctor just awkwardly explains that, well, that won’t be exactly possible. Not for the next eight months, at least.

He’s quite shocked at that, and takes him a while to tell martin. They just got a new baby and do they even have space to raise three kids? Eventually it just escapes from him and martin is shocked as well, but ultimately both of them are just worried about their place being too small, and once they relax about that they can’t shut up about having another baby on the way to anyone.

Still, it’s not easy to manage, martin is just as worried as he was with their eldest, except that this time he’s simultaneously worried about their new baby and about Luci’s pregnancy. Poor dude needs a break asap. So he’s trying to do most of the work of caring for a little baby to spare luciano from the stress, while also taking care of him as well as he did the other time.

Luci is more chill about being pregnant, he’s done this before, he’s fine. He’s even a little too chill about it, as shown in the art, he still wants to carry their kid on his shoulder and having a few sips of martin’s beer is no big deal and honestly he’s fine, he can help with the baby, and Tincho just needs to relax and it will all be fine.

Again, poor tincho needs a break.

Some things don’t change though. Them being super proud daddies who do nothing but take pictures of their kids and Luci’s belly every chance they get. And they’re really happy and excited to have their house full and this big family.

Just a good cute family AU where nothing bad ever happens thank you very much.  Yet it took me almost 2k words to say it. I have no self control and I’m very sorry. However, if anyone has their own hcs to add about this whole au, I will be more than happy to hear and talk about this AU even more than I’ve already done.

[inyoursheets]

7, 17, and 27 for the fic asks!

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics? 

oh wow, i don’t even know. really depends on the story i guess? and my attention span varies lololol some days im more patient than others. i like to sink into longer fics but i can also sincerely enjoy short fics a lot

in conclusion give me all the fics

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback 

oh this varies, too. depends on the story i think? or, no, it depends on the writing process of the story. in some ways ive gotten worse w this. while also understanding why i do it more than before. it’s a work in progress. im really trying to stop caring too much about reactions bc while i do hope that people enjoy my writing, the point is not that. i used to publish and then bounce and take a shower before checking anything. but now i sometimes do somewhat obsessively refresh the page, unfortunately. i need to chill with that. i think what helps is that i often post in the evening, so i just fall asleep and then check in the morning, but sometimes i uncharacteristically manage to finish the final edits early enough to not do that, in which case i do need a proper distraction in place to prevent myself from checking for comments or whatever. so. pretty obsessively? i cant wait to grow past this phase lol

27. Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random?

hahaha, you tell me! i feel like with warm water i do occasionally rant about the writing process so im....somewhat transparent about what lies ahead? tho i do try to not spoil too much. the last line tag + that search word fic game sure made that hard haha. maybe i dont always give that much away about what’s gonna happen but i do think i give something of a head’s up that im about to publish a chapter? im pretty sure that’s easy to notice considering how much oversharing i do in the tags/complaining i do about editing

but then......i didn’t tell anyone that i was writing the grocery store manager!AU except @medievalraven so i guess that was me slapping you all in the face with content. i read this thing -- a tweet? an article? i dont remember -- about how with creative pursuits, it’s smart not to share the idea before you’ve actually created it, bc if you do, you will first get validation from people’s reactions to the idea but then get demotivated once that initial rush wears off bc you actually still have to do the work. whereas if you share once you’ve created it, there’s less of a chance you’ll lose your motivation??? i think that was the gist, idk for sure.

so that’s what i tried to do very deliberately with the grocery store manager!AU, to see how that works for me. also bc the idea was soooo self-indulgent and it was nice to just experiment with writing it just for me without anyone knowing about it so i wouldn’t on some level worry about expectations or about the reactions of other people. tho it was really nice to gush about it with lauren! bc it’s also fun to share excitement about what you’re writing! i very specifically intended that fic to be a palate cleanser for after i finished warm water, but then suddenly i wrote it very quickly and was too pleased with it not to share, haha. or, actually, i had a different pwp oneshot idea, but that one is growing beyond the low stakes thing i wanted to write first thing after finishing warm water.

to sum up, if i ever do slap you with content at random it is because i managed to have enough self-control to not already share the idea beforehand and to make the writing process a little bit easier for me! although i will say, i genuinely love hearing about other people’s fic ideas and unpublished WIPs and definitely see the appeal in that, too

thank you!!!!!!! fic writer ask game thingy!!!

#ask #ask games #sdktrs12 #my fic #i am one verbose woman #i cannot be stopped #you must all simply suffer through my long-winded responses to asks it is what it is

[pinesconessecrets]

Ice to Meet You

Merry Christmas @ladynightmare12 ! I hope you enjoy the fic!! <: I had a lot of fun with the soulmate AU, since it’s something I’ve always enjoyed. I combined it with the first meetings AU too. Have a great Christmas! <3

****

Wirt had given up on trying to find his soulmate when he was thirteen. He still remembered the conversation that came after he mentioned it to his mom. She had choked on her tea, wheezing until she’d managed to regain control of herself again. Then began the spiel about, “Oh, sweetie. You’ll meet her at some point in your life, don’t give up now!” and Wirt just sighed. Internally, of course. He didn’t want to upset his mom any further. A good bit of everyone in his grade had found their soulmate, leaving Wirt feeling terribly alone. Sara tried to comfort him, except she ran into her soulmate a few months later; it was some guy named Brian. That was a fun day.

He was a little more than relieved to graduate high school, which meant moving away to a college in a different state. A college in Oregon had caught his eye and he applied, half expecting to get denied. But lo and behold, the college actually accepted him and even had a full ride scholarship too.

Greg was against Wirt moving across the country when he broke the news. Wirt reassured him that he would call every day and keep in touch. He wouldn’t be left out just because Wirt didn’t live in the same house anymore.

Wirt enjoyed the trip to Oregon. His parents rented a small u-Haul for the stuff Wirt could take to put in his dorm. He was lucky enough to score a single person room, complete with his own bathroom. He didn’t think he could have managed if he had to share a dorm and a bathroom, much less having to suffer from public bathrooms.

They made the drive out to be like a mini vacation, taking their time since they left a few days early. Wirt’s nerves almost got the best of him a few times, the realization of him living somewhere that wasn’t with his mom and stepdad. Thankfully Greg managed to quickly distract him before he grew too anxious, eerily able to quickly figure out when his nerves were beginning to act up.

With the help of everyone, it didn’t take long before Wirt’s room was set up. He still had a few things to tweak here and there, like moving his desk closer to the window and hanging up his poems on the walls. He didn’t have much time to be particularly picky about how his room was set up with his parents and brother around.

They stayed in town for a few days, exploring the place with Wirt in tow. It definitely was a college town considering the absurd amount of fast food restaurants around. Like seriously, who needed this many fast food places? At least there were a few cafes for Wirt to hang out in. Cafes were pretty sweet places to chill at and they had a great effect on Wirt when it came to writing poetry. He was excited about that.

Tears were shed by his mom and Greg on the day they had to leave. Greg made Wirt promise to call him every day, and that was a rock fact. Wirt lingered in the parking lot for a bit longer than he intended, staring off into space before letting out a long sigh. He hoped he would be able to survive the semester before Christmas break. His next adventure in life had begun, only to bring challenges he had no way to prepare for.

Wirt got to studying diligently when the semester began. The majority of his classes were the core classes every freshman were required to take, including math. Thank god that he only needed to take two semesters of it due to his major in English. Math was one of his most detested classes; it was the worst. Maybe he was being overly dramatic, but Wirt would rather prefer to listen to someone scrape their nails on a chalkboard repeatedly for hours than be stuck in math class for even an hour. The entire point was above him, and the fact that other kids were majoring in math just blew his mind. They were to be feared.

The semester started out slow but picked up steam as the weeks went on. Midterms came and went, letting Wirt breathe a sigh of relief when his passing grades were posted.

He video called Greg before he went out trick or treating on Halloween, both happy and mortified that Greg decided to go as a garden gnome. Their trip to the Unknown was still very present in their minds years after it happened. At least now it was easier to deal with, and they didn’t have to worry about being sent into a fit of panic when winter rolled around anymore. Wirt admitted that Greg wore the outfit far better than he did, earning a protest of “No, you wore it better!” from Greg. They bickered back and forth until their mom told them to knock it out or else Greg wouldn’t be getting any candy that year. That shut Greg up and he hastily told Wirt goodbye and that he’d show him how much candy he got before going to bed.

Wirt found himself growing progressively more stressed as the end of the semester rolled around. His professors shoved study guides down their student’s throats and made it very clear that passing their finals would make or break their grades. Wirt found himself spending more and more time at his favorite cafe. He would have been surprised that he hadn’t drunk all of their tea if he wasn’t so stressed about passing his finals.

A week before finals, the unthinkable happened.

Wirt was on his way to the Jasmine Brew Cafe, lost in thought about his upcoming math final. It was the one he dreaded the most, and rightfully so. Other students in his class struggled as much as he did. The professor didn’t know how to break down the lesson so other kids could understand what he was trying to teach. Wirt barely managed to understand what the heck he was talking about most the time, and he hoped it would be enough.

Of course, the dork was so lost in thought that he wasn’t watching where he was walking. His foot made contact with frozen ice on the sidewalk, causing him to slip and fall down to the pavement. Wirt miraculously held onto his notebooks, laying on his back, winded from his fall.

Someone with unruly brown hair peered down at him with a look of mild concern. Wirt wished he could turn invisible because he knew that everyone around him saw what just happened.

“Hi there. It’s ice to meet you finally.” The other boy paused, before continuing. “I hope that’s not weird? I’ve seen you around campus before and I noticed you were always alone and I was going to say hi but I always got distracted and oh my god I’m sorry I’m kinda rambling. I tend to do that a lot and my sister always punches me and yep I’m gonna shut up now.”

Wirt’s wrist burned. That was what his stupid soulmate mark said. ‘Hi there, it’s ice to meet you finally.’

He wanted to say something witty back, but all that could come out of his mouth was, “Was that a motherfucking pun?” He rarely cussed, but dangit he was sleep deprived and angry that he was stupid enough to fall and slip on ice.

The other boy blanched, his extended hand frozen in shock. Wirt shuffled to his feet, clutching his notebooks to his chest. An awkward silence enveloped the two, only to be broken by the other boy.

“Do you want to go somewhere warm? Get some coffee or something?”

Wirt broke free of his surprise. “Uh, um, sure. I was heading to the Jasmine Brew Cafe to get some studying done. It’s right up the street here.”

“Cool. I’ve only been there once or twice, so lead the way.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, looking at Wirt expectantly.

“Right.” Wirt turned on his heels and began walking to the cafe, fidgeting with the spiral of a notebook. He knew that he was probably acting slightly like a jerk. Okay, a lot like a jerk. He had spent the majority of his teenage years resenting the idea of soulmates, knowing he’d never find his and that he’d live the rest of his life alone. But look what happened. He ran into his soulmate.

The rush of warm air made Wirt feel grateful for heating, heading to his usual spot by the wall. He sat with his back to the wall, and a large window to his left. Being able to look out into the street helped declutter his mind.

He almost relaxed, until the other boy - his soulmate - slid into the chair across from him. He looked as nervous as Wirt was.

“I’m Dipper, by the way. I don’t think I introduced myself yet.”

“Wirt. It’s um, nice to meet you, I guess,” he mumbled, his awkwardness hitting him like a fricking train. Now that the fact that yep, him finding his soulmate was a thing, was starting to sink in, a feeling of panic also begun to set in too.

“Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re freaking out there a little. I mean, I’m kinda freaking out too, but that’s because I’m super pumped to have finally run into my soulmate.” Dipper looked giddy almost.

Wirt chewed on a nail. “Y-yeah, I’m okay. It’s just… I gave up on finding my soulmate years ago, so I never thought I would actually run into them. I hope you don’t think I’m a jerk or anything because oh my god I feel so bad for being cold to you.”

When Dipper was silent, Wirt looked up to find him holding back a snicker. With the biggest shit eating grin, Dipper replied, “Was that a motherfucking pun?”

“Oh my god.” Wirt groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “Do not use my own words against me.”

“Kinda hard to considering they’re right here.” Dipper rolled his sleeve back, revealing the words scrawled across his arm. God, they were even in Wirt’s own handwriting. How crazy was that?

Wirt reached out to touch the words on Dipper’s arm, stopping short once he realized what he was about to do. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know it’s a lot to take in. But I don’t mind if you wanna take a closer look at them.” His voice was quiet.

Figuring that he may as well roll with the punches, Wirt pulled his own sleeve back, exposing Dipper’s godawful pun written on the inside of his forearm. Dipper didn’t hesitate before running his fingers over Wirt’s pale skin, tracing the scratchy letters of his own handwriting. It looked different from his own, his letters rushed and hurried versus the flowing loops of Wirt’s.

Wirt finally caved and traced the words on Dipper’s arm. The two dorks sat in silence, no words needing to be exchanged as they let the importance of the day truly sink in.

The corners of Dipper’s mouth quirked up in a grin after a while. “So, did you wanna get a coffee and chat? And maybe tell me how you’ve bean all these years.”

Wirt had a feeling the puns weren’t ever going to stop.

#Pinescone #Pinescone Secret Santa #Pinescone Secret Santa 2018 #Wirt #Dipper #OTGW #GF #submission

[scully-eats-sushi]

Shaken: A Pre-X-Files Fic

Shaken: A Pre-X-Files Fic

Author: scully-eats-sushi

Rating: PG  (but please don’t let that stop you from reading!)

A/N: I was inspired to write this by a request from @cryptidneet, referencing this post here, about a deleted scene from Demons (4x23): https://dunhamhairograpy.tumblr.com/post/168263757382/deleted-scene-demons-mrs-mulder-and-scully-that.  Also tagging @today-in-fic. This is a little bit on the sadder side. Angst is a really hard one for me to write, apparently.

Trigger warning (no pun intended) for epilepsy/seizure disorder.

i.  August 1970. 

"Fox, can you please help me build this? Fox?" Samantha glanced over at her older brother from her spot on the carpet, a pile of legos at her feet. He was ignoring her again. She poked him on the arm. "Fox! Please help me! Can you stop watching T.V. right now?...Fox! You always do this!" she huffed. The five-year-old sighed, hauling herself up onto her feet. She stormed off, walking through the kitchen and dining room before she found her mother in the salon, reading a ladies' magazine and sipping something that was light green in color and had ice cubes in it.

"Mommy, Fox is ignoring me again. He won't help me. And I asked nicely."

Without glancing up from her magazine, Teena Mulder replied, "Samantha, darling, sometimes boys can be like that. Especially with their little sisters." Or their wives. "Why don't you go outside and play instead?"

With a sad look on her face, Samantha replied, "But Mommy, I already played outside with Katherine today. I want to build the lego castle that I saw in that picture. I know I could do it with some help."

Trying to keep a look of annoyance off her face, her mother glanced up at her daughter. "So try asking Fox again. Or just do your best by yourself."

Dejected, Samantha returned to the family room. At hearing her footsteps, her brother looked up at her.

"Hey, Twerp. Where ya been?"

"Fox, I asked you to help me with my legos and you didn't say anything. You just stared at the T.V."

"No, you didn't, Sam. I didn't hear you say anything like that."

"Fo-ox, yes I did. Don't lie! Can you help me with that castle, please?”

"Okay, okay, fine, Squirt," he grumbled. Little sisters were so annoying. "Show me the picture." Sensing his disdain, she shot him a glare. But they silently agreed on a truce and both turned to their task. The lego castle was finished before they were called for dinner. ii.  March 1972.

Samantha sat chatting with her mother at dinner while her father, seated at the other end of the table, was occupied speaking to a tall man she had never seen before. She glanced to her right at the man, but quickly looked back toward her mother. She knew only that she did not like that man very much. There was something about his eyes and his mouth that made him look mean--no, sinister. She had just learned that word, and it seemed to fit him. Besides, he stunk like too many yucky cigarettes. Her father only really smoked cigars sometimes so he usually didn't smell like that man who was over for dinner. 

Samantha suddenly noticed that Fox was no longer speaking. He was currently staring at nothing as far as she could tell. She watched him, wondering why he was so quiet. He was usually very talkative, especially when there were other adults at the table. Sometimes he was so curious that it upset their father.

Her mother interrupted the little girl's thoughts. "Bill, can I have the casserole, please?" asked Teena Mulder.

Without looking up from his conversation, Bill Mulder picked up the casserole dish and held it out for his son to take. "Fox, pass this to your mother."

When there was no response and the dish hadn't been taken from his hand, Bill turned to his son. "Fox. Fox! Look at me, boy!"

By now all attention was on Fox, who sat motionless.

Teena glanced back toward the other side of the table, her eyes meeting those of the man seated there. She nervously bit her lip, then looked at her husband. 

"Maybe there's something wrong with him, Bill."

"There's nothing wrong with the boy, Teena. He's not paying attention. His teacher called to say that he has been staring off into space when he should be listening to her, didn't she?"

Samantha's attention returned to the strange man as he silently watched Fox.

She noticed that he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and brought it to his lips before he seemed to decide not to light it at the table. iii.  June 1973.

A scream echoed through the house. Teena Mulder hurried out of her bedroom and down the stairs to the family room, where she had earlier left her children reading. 

"Mommy, Mommy, Fox fell down. Look at him!"

Teena gasped at the sight of her son on the floor. His arms and legs were shaking and his eyes were blinking rapidly. "Fox, oh my baby. Fox, do you hear me?" She held him down, continuing to yell his name loudly. There was no response. Noticing the blood dripping down from the corner of his mouth, she screamed, "Samantha, call 911!"

Samantha ran to grab the phone off the kitchen wall and dialed. In her fear, she didn't remember what she told the woman on the phone. iv.  May 1997.

Mulder sat behind his desk, looking down at his file. He had only just returned to work. He felt her eyes on him, and looked up at his partner.

"What is it, Scully?" he asked gently.

"Mulder," she sighed. "When I spoke with your mother, she mentioned that you had had seizures as a child. Petit mal, what we call 'absence seizures' now. That's not in your medical file. Why didn't you tell me before?" 

"My parents and I didn't know I was having them until I actually had my first grand mal seizure and I was taken to the hospital. That was when my mother learned that I had been having other symptoms. I guess my mother didn't want to tell you that the seizures progressed. It's probably embarrassing to her."

Scully heard the note of irony and sarcasm in his voice.

"Anyway, it was getting worse that last year before...Sam." He looked up at the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. "They never came back, later. So I never said anything. It's not relevant."

He looked up to see the sad look in her eyes. He couldn't take her pity and didn't want her sympathy right now.

"Forget it, Scully. It's over." He looked up at her, the corner of his mouth turned up in a small, sad smile. "How are you feeling?" 

v.  January 2018.

Mulder helped Scully into her apartment, following her closely as she walked gingerly.  

"Do you need me to stay with you, Scully? Do you think that there's any danger for you? More seizures?"

The care in his eyes, in his voice, broke her. She turned into him and he held her while she cried.

"I guess now we have something else in common, Mulder. I now know what it feels like after having a seizure."

He kissed the top of her head. "Yes, but I was never in a car accident after one, Scully," he said, with a touch of dark humor. She let out a small laugh through her tears.

"Will you stay here tonight?"

"Of course I will," he responded. There was never any question. --

Additional author's notes (sorry, it's long): I don't know if the "extra-canon" idea of Mulder having epilepsy as a child has been explored before in fanfic; I haven't seen it before. In the original script for Demons, Mrs. Mulder mentions in an off-hand way to Scully that he had "petit mal seizures" as a child. Today, these are referred to as "absence seizures" and are characterized by symptoms such as staring off into space, subtle uncontrolled movements, and temporary loss of awareness/consciousness. I also chose to describe that young Mulder progressed to having "tonic-clonic seizures" (what was previously referred to as "grand mal seizures"). This is the type of epilepsy usually pictured when people think of seizures: convulsions, uncontrolled seizing up of the limbs, falling if they're upright, complete loss of consciousness followed by periods of sleep or lethargy, unconscious biting down on the ends of one's tongue leading to blood dribbling out of the mouth. I had to do a little bit of research on this topic, and I tried to make the family reaction realistic for the early 1970s, and for what we know of the Mulders. Nowadays, in many cases epilepsy can be controlled with medication, and many people like marijuana for epilepsy, of course. 

Note: I wrote that Teena Mulder held her son down. Please do not hold anyone down if they're having a seizure. Just make sure there is no immediate danger around them. If possible, move items away from them and do not move the victim. Make sure they don't fall into something, but aside from that, keep physical distance.

Why Mulder stopped having seizures after age 12 (again, that came from the original script) is an interesting thought to ponder... Sometimes that can just happen, but how much do we believe in coincidence?

The idea from Cryptidneet for this little story spoke to me, probably because (as a few of you know) one of my kids is epileptic and he has had a few instances of tonic-clonic seizure clusters, consisting of several long seizures over a period of a few hours, over the last 3.5 years. His epilepsy is generally well controlled on medication. However, his last set of seizures was in early June, and his doctor determined the dosage he had been on was too low. It happened on the eve of what would have been our black belt test, which made the experience doubly emotional and painful, not least because he's also autistic and he (we both) felt the disappointment very deeply for a long time. (The black belt test is now scheduled for one month from now, in early September.) I will never forget the kindness of a few friends who kept me virtual company while I was with him in the hospital and not able to speak with my husband, who was 3000 miles away and didn't know what was happening at the time.

@cryptidneet, I don’t know if this is at all what you were looking for. But I hope you like it, even though I’m by far not one of the best authors in this fandom.

P.S. I had another prompt from another lovely friend and I'm sorry that the writing for that just hasn't come to me yet! I will try my best to get my head around it at some point in the foreseeable future.

#my writing #my fic #TW: epilepsy #early Fox Mulder #angst #pre-TXF #original script #Demons #deleted scene #I don't know if this is what you wanted #but I hope you like it #Cryptidneet #prompt #also post-episode #for MSIII #I guess

[seenashwrite]

Changes for Nash

I'm going to be pulling back the time I spend on here in various ways, and if you'd like to know in what ways you can find the basic scoop below the cut.

To new followers - I hate that you've arrived just in time to see this, but I must hit “pause” and look after myself. Story-wise (and otherwise!) there's quite a bit of original content to peruse, so I hope this will satisfy you for the time being.

To all of the Nashooligans  - please understand this does not mean I won't still post things and queue things. I've got a ton of stuff in drafts (thank you notes, replies, feedback, etc.) that will get posted in due time. I'm not disappearing. I'm not dropping the friendships I've made and the chats we have/the things we share/etc., nor a couple of challenges I agreed to and the side-blog projects I’ve committed to work on with others.

For those of you who don't read further, I'll close for you with a heartfelt...

Much lurve - Nash.

What’s changing / stopping:

I've been doing some purging offline, and now have starting doing some purging online. As there are many of you I consider friends and as I have a good chunk of devoted readers/participants in my shenanigans around here, I feel I owed you the scoop on what's changing (at least for now). 

The TL;DR is that “major” original content (things that require great time investment) are not going to be making an appearance for the near future.

So, here are the things related to how I am choosing to spend my time in the context of my activity in the world of fanfic/SPN for the future/near future:

.

* Some projects are indefinitely on hold and some projects are cancelled altogether (see freshly updated Works In Progress post); I will fulfill my remaining challenge commitments as promised, and while perhaps it will be more abbreviated than normal, I will do my best not to kick out anything less than what y’all expect from me creativity-wise

* I've pulled everything from FF.net - the user end is too cumbersome, I'm tired of wasting time on it. I've left everything up on AO3, no plans to take it down from there. I've actually been going through the works there and editing formatting that slipped through the cracks. One thing I am doing is ceasing with adding cute images to stuff, simply not willing to spend the time on it; I may or may not remove the things for which images are necessary to understanding references in a story; we'll see

* Speaking of images - and videos and gifs and whatnots - no more any time soon; I promised one to someone and that’s already done, it’ll be stuck in the Q

* The Nail is on indefinite hold, very possibly will no longer happen; I may whip up an abbreviated version with the fics I had prepped for the next edition, or I'll individually reblog them - priority going to those with less than 100 notes - with brief versions of my usual in depth commentary as time permits; we'll see

* CASPN has been a commitment of mine each week > 1 year, minus the 3 weeks or so absence in the fall due to an injury that resulted in an unexpected hospital stay; I know this is a favorite weekly "break" for a good handful of you; I think I just need my own break. I know for sure I'm no longer able/willing to work on the decks, it is likely more of a time-suck than people realize to comb scripts, get the format for workable Qs and As right, maintain the whole shebang, etc.; bottom line: I just don't know. Like I say, I think I need a hiatus. Maybe until the season premiere. I'll keep thinking about it, let you know on Thursday where I'm at.

* The couple of side blog endeavors I’m pleased to be part of will still keep happening, I committed to it and I’m not gonna leave y’all in a lurch. Plus, that stuff’s fun, and not being in charge of ‘em means less stress and less time consumption

* Having said that, I won't be finishing up the substantial behind-the-scenes work I’ve already done on the SPN Theft Watch blog that is still in construction mode; I'm not deleting it, I'm just not willing to invest time in it right now. I still have several outstanding issues to deal with regarding the personal theft that came over to Tumblr and the reblogs that still have not been deleted. There are a few I still need to give a second notice to; the ones who have now ignored me after 2x, I'm reporting

* I won't be taking on "Dear Nash" things that ask for writing advice, offering up the "Dear Nash: Script Doctor Edition" option, re-blogging any of my writing tips; to the Nonners who asked for a complete master post of such, and the Nonners who asked for a post on how to give and accept critique, I'm putting those on the back burner as well; I also won't be passing along writing tips from professionals; basically nothing under the umbrella of “advice” [ETA: I have done this once since this post (months later) and it went okay. Will consider doing again]

ETA - Neglected to mention that I’ve had an idea for a gift for y’all when/if I hit 1K followers - the “materials” have been accumulating in a bookmark folder - and it’s unlike anything/any concept I’ve seen during my tenure in the fandom. It may take awhile, but I do still plan on doing it.

And if you care to know more scoop about the why... well, the “why” of the tipping point(s) that made me seriously ponder on what I’ve been feeling for awhile now... that’s on a page I made here. 

(Spoiler alert: I’m not angry, there’s no hurt fee-fees, it’s just realization about what I choose to spend my time on and what I get out of those things, how much joy it would bring me and how that’s shifted.)

#Nash Alerts The Populous #The Nashooligans #Nash Ponders #Nash Makes Changes #time management #life balance #perspective #priorities #Queueby Dooby Doo #Dad's on a blog post and #he hasn't been queued in a few days

[not-close-to-straight]

Monday Things

Ugh mega headaches today, kill me. 

Pirate’s Heart should be in today! (Or tomorrow) and I’m so excited! You guys are going to love them, and the bookmarks are so pretty with the book! 

I’m a little hit and miss with asks, sorry about that, literally spending every free minutes editing and re-formatting fics and I’m not really talking to anyone lol 

Thanks for everyone’s patience with orders, I’m trying to keep up with emails and keep all my numbers straight and my little order notebook is filling up quick! 

My Time Travel AU is getting MASSIVE and I can’t stop planning it. Save me from the words guys. 

Ive definitely noticed that my fics have been getting progressively longer. Like, My originals are only around 20k, then I do a jump up to about 40k and then all the sudden they are all 60k++?? AND THEN PIRATES HEART WAS OVER 230,000 and then BAM One Reason Why was over 130K?? Am I just doomed to write 100k fics now?? SAVE ME!!!

Also, getting close to 5000 followers! Its amazing!

Anyway, I hope you guys are having a good Monday. 

#ncts personal #books #time travel au #save me from the words

[drizzitwrites]

Football RPF Challenge - Day 8: Doing Something Cute

Today’s scene is from the fic I plan to write AFTER I finally get this WIP I’ve been working on since July done and published.

Based off of yesterday and how much time and energy I usually have on Thursdays, I fully expected that this would be yet another day of me trying to write new content, it falling flat, and me just ending up editing something from my current active WIP instead, since the whole thing starts off with some bits about Vincent trying to do super cute things for Christian.

BUT! This morning while brushing my teeth it occurred to me that I could also work on a scene from the next fic that has to get written (which, as always, could have been considered for both yesterday's theme of "doing something stupid" AND today's theme of "doing something cute" since with these two one is also usually the other, let's be real). Anyway, I'm going to attempt to write this new scene and we'll see how it goes. Ideally it will work since the being cute bits in the other fic have already rather been edited to death so I could only very marginally say "well I edited those other bits so I still made progress for today." You'd have to squint at it rather side-eyed in order for it to be plausible.

[POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR CURRENT WIP AND FOR THE NEXT FIC IN THE SERIES]

Today's scene--Vincent has decided to have surgery to fix an injury that's plagued him for nearly a year now. It's fairly minor and routine and he's perfectly capable of going through it himself and relying on the Spurs staff to get him situated since it's a weekday and Christian, et al have training.

Christian has other plans and manages to talk his way out of training to be there in hospital when Vincent wakes up.

What you need to know is that at this point the whole team (or 95% of it at least) knows about Christian and Vincent's relationship but Christian is still coming to terms with that and what it means and it's still not something he's keen to talk about widely (or at all).

Vincent blinked his eyes open into harsh white overhead lights shining daggers into his skull, then let out a groan and instinctively tried to raise his left arm to throw a hand over his eyes.

He immediately regretted everything about every single one of these actions as a sharp pain shot through his arm starting at the top of his hand and radiating upward all the way to his shoulder. This made him follow up the groan with a loud yelp and some highly uncomplimentary phrases in Dutch.

To his left, a far too cheerful voice tells him to "hold still, please. You'll rip out your IV," and he remembers...

Hospital. Surgery. To repair the foot he'd injured back in December and stubbornly decided to not do anything about until now.

He lay back, dropping his hand to the rough cotton of the sheet, and closed his eyes against the fluorescent lights. Around him, sounds started filtering back in--the hums and beeps of the machines surrounding his bed, clatter of carts and murmur of voices flowing past the open door to his room, rush and bustle of a busy London hospital.

Once more, the cheerful voice, and Vincent now remembered it as belonging to Asima, the anaesthesiologist who had prepped him for the procedure, her large, dark eyes kind as she held his hand and slipped the syringe into his IV.

Her face, round and expressive, framed by the deep green of her hijab, had been the last thing he'd seen before he'd drifted away into oblivious sleep.

"...alright?" she asked, and Vincent blinked his eyes open once more, this time holding them in a half-squint in an attempt to ward off some of the harsh white glare.

"Wat...?" Vincent asked, the word slipping out in Dutch instead of English.

This, for some reason, put him in a brief panic that oh, God, he might have forgotten how to speak English and here he was in England and getting ready for a hopeful move back to Turkey and he'd never be able to communicate with anyone ever again--before his brain kicked back into gear and he let out a laugh at the absurdity of that entire scenario.

That laugh led to another, then another, until he was giggling uncontrollably for absolutely no reason. Asima let it happen, going about her work as though a grown man laying in a hospital bed with tubes coming out of his hand and machines beeping out his vital signs laughing his head off about seemingly nothing was just another Monday afternoon for her. Maybe it was, who was Vincent to say?

"Is that..." A different voice, low and soft and strong; cut through with an undercurrent of concern that, for once, Christian didn't sound like he was even bothering to conceal. "Is everything okay?"

Vincent flicked his eyes open once more, then dropped his head to the right in the direction of Christian's voice. His eyes scanned past dull beige walls and gleaming metal fixtures, everything polished and sterile and clean. He twisted and shifted,  ignoring the prick of pain in his hand as the motion shifted the IV needle as his eyes finally landed on he familiar figure perched on the edge of one of the chairs slid into the corner of the room, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes fixed on Vincent.

"Christiaan," he said, the word coming out a bit raspy and breathless as though his voice hadn't been used in a few days, although in reality the surgery had only been scheduled for a few hours. "Je bent er nog steds."

Maybe he really had forgotten English.

Insistent pressure against his shoulder and Christian looked up, eyes focused above and behind Vincent's bed to where Asima still stood, pressing Vincent back down into the too hard mattress.

"Sit back, please," she said.

Vincent rolled his head back towards Asima, who once again stood over him, dark eyes staring down at him expectantly.

"Are you doing alright?"

"Ja," Vincent said and then "Godverdamme. Yes. I mean yes. I mean...I'm good, just...ugggghhhhhh."

He lifted his hands again, wanting nothing more than to scrub at his eyeballs in some vain attempt to wipe away the lingering fog still filling up his brain. His right hand lifted free, but he once again let out a yelp as the IV sent a stabbing pain shooting up his arm.

"Vincent?" Christian's voice again, closer this time and now laced with a vague panic. A familiar hand wrapped around Vincent's own, long fingers twining with his own, skin hot and damp with sweat.

"I'm fine, Lieveke," Vincent said, still speaking in Dutch, although this time less for a lack of capacity for English than out of habit. "Just..." He took a breath. "Trying to make my brain work in English."

The last bit, he actually managed to say in English, which he took as a good sign. He was probably on the road to recovery with no lasting damage. To his brain, at least. He had no idea what the state of his foot might be, except now that the anaesthetic was wearing off he was starting to notice the sharp pulsating throbs of pain radiating through his foot and his leg.

He squeezed Christian's hand tighter against the sensation, and Christian returned the grip.

"I am...good," Vincent repeated, this time for Asima's benefit. "Is everything...?"

"The surgery went well," she said. "Everything went according to plan. We need to keep you here for a bit longer for some observation and to make sure there aren't any unforeseen complications, but you should be ready to return home this evening."

Christian breathed out a sigh that it sounded like he'd been holding in for most of the day, then gave Vincent's hand another squeeze. "Good. That's good news. I can...oh--"

He trailed off, abruptly straightening up and stepping back from Vincent's bedside, although he didn't release his grasp on Vincent's hand. "Liefje, will you...I have to make a phone call or two. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"

"Oke," Vincent said, not letting go of Christian's hand. "But...where are you going?"

Christian brushed a hand across Vincent's forehead, sweeping back the sweat damp fringe of his hair that had fallen out of place. He leaned over the curved metal railing running the length of the bed and pressed a kiss to the centre of Vincent's forehead, his lips cool and dry against Vincent's skin.

"I'm going to make sure everything is perfect for when it's time to get you home. A few minutes, Liefje, I promise. I know you're fine, and I trust Asima here to take the best care of you, but I don't want to let you out of my sight for a minute longer than I have to."

Vincent shook his head and let out a low chuckle of a laugh. "You are ridiculous, you know that?"

Christian's eyes wide and Vincent could see a thousand emotions all flooding behind them--fear and helplessness and relief and apprehension and love--and Vincent knew that if the roles were reversed he wouldn't be keeping things together half as well as Christian was. The surgery had been minor and routine, and Vincent was in peak physical condition. But just because you knew, rationally, that everything was going to be okay, that didn't mean the non-rational parts of your brain would let you believe it.

"I'll be fine,Christiaan," Vincent said, unlinking his fingers from Christian's and pulling him back down for another kiss. This time, Vincent shifted, still mindful of the IV and assorted tubes running out of his left arm, and sliding upward in his bed until his lips met Christian's.

He wrapped a hand around the back of Christian's neck, pressing him in closer. Christian's lips parted, and Vincent took the opportunity to swipe his tongue against Christian's teeth. He was rewarded with a small gasp, and Christian opened his mouth wider, crushing his mouth harder against Vincent's. Slide of tongue against tongue, scent of Christian's cologne filling Vincent's nose and the faint hint of citrus and mint lingering on Christian's tongue.

From Vincent's left, Asima let out a small, deliberate cough. Christian all but leapt backwards, mouth still open, eyes wide, both hands in the air in front of him--as though he'd been caught in the middle of some sort of nefarious criminal activity.

"Sorry to...interrupt," Asima said. "It's just...I need to ask a few questions and check some of your vital signs. Plus, well..." Her bronze skin flushed pink and she cleared her throat again. "If your heart rate or pressures elevate too much I'd have to call in a medical team. So..."

"Oh, god," Christian gasped, his face nearly tomato red now, and Vincent couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, though he could feel the heat creeping into his own ears and cheeks.

"I'd better..." Christian said, holding up his phone. "Back soon."

He turned towards the door, not quite running towards the corridor, but walking with purpose as he jabbed at the screen of his mobile.

"Christiaan," Vincent called out just as he reached the doorway, and Christian stopped in his tracks and spun to face him, phone now dangling in a loose grip at his side as he focused all his attention on Vincent.

"Bedankt," Vincent said. "For being here. I really...it means a lot."

Christian shook his head and gave Vincent a warm smile. "Where else would I be, Liefje? Now listen to Asima and I'll be back soon."

Vincent nodded and returned Christian's smile, his whole body glowing with the warmth of Christian's affection. "Oke. Ik hou van je."

"Ik hou ook van jou. Zo veel." 

Christian flashed Vincent an awkward wave, then disappeared out the door and around the corner.

#football rpf #football rpf challenge #30-day football rpf challenge #30-day writing challenge #christian eriksen x vincent janssen #november writing #writing #drizzit writes #thoughts on writing and life

[rosyredlipstick]

You mentioned you loved YOI and read some good fanfic for it!! Would you mind recommending me some, maybe..?? :')

This took longer then I meant but im real serious bout my yoi fics. gets kinda long so under the cut! 

Okay currently the fics im obsessed with - 

Fics I rec:

The princess diaries au that has me SCREAMING WITH EVERY UPDATE OMG it has such an amazing aesthetic and plot and i ADORE all the characters and this victor???? Wow. amazing.

Seek those who fan your flames by @ebenroot

summary :

Yuuri gets hand-delivered a black-print T-shirt by one of his bodyguards on Friday. There’s a small sticky note attached to the collar in Victor’s handwriting that reads: ‘Our new band shirt! Logo is still a work in progress. Name too. But it’s a start! Let me know what you think after school. - Victor’

There’s a heart next to his name that is hastily scribbled out. Then another heart next to that one, like Victor decided to put it in anyways.

Yuuri thinks he’s in love.

–

in which Yuuri is a teenager that’s actually a prince, and Victor is a teenager with a band that just wants to listen to rock music with him

i love yurio here’s a fic with him prominently i love it

along with the popular fandom troupes of pining viktor and secretly caring yurio, there’s the troupe of yuuri being a beautiful idiot without realizing it i love them all

in wine we trust  by @fireblazie

summary:

Yuri peers into the expanse of the apartment and finds a single, flickering light in the kitchen. He stealthily tiptoes across the floor with the baseball bat clutched tightly in his fists, only to find that, what the hell, this bastard is actually fucking raiding his fridge.

“That’s my pirozhki, asshat!” he snarls, ready to swing his bat when the intruder turns around.

Shit, Yuri thinks. It’s Beautiful International Student Yuuri Katsuki.

IM A BITCH FOR OFFICE AUS. LIKE. OH MY GOD.

I seriously adore everyone in this fic. Omg. ive read it so many times at this point it’s unbelievable. Wow.

the season of the spirits by counterheist / @kixboxer

summary:

Yuuri wakes up to one hell of a headache, a tie he doesn’t recognize knotted around his wrist, and two fistfuls of banknotes cradled to his chest.

~

An AU about cubicles, and the people who work in them.

THIS IS CURRENTLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE FICS EVER IT’S A STAR TREK AU MY GOOOOOOD I LOVE IT!!!!

everything here is amazing omg captain viktor and first officer yuuri with heavy heavy pining omggggggg yaaaas

To Boldly Go by @xyloophones

summary:

“Yuuri!” Viktor calls. “I’ve come to rescue you!”

Yuuri stares at him blankly. He gestures to the various unconscious space pirates with his recently discharged phaser.

“Oh, Captain,” he deadpans. “Save me.”

Or:

A year in the life of badass science officer Yuuri Katsuki, Captain Viktor “Team Mom” Nikiforov, and simultaneously the best crew and worst crew in Starfleet history.

ok so this next fic isnt finished BUT it’s the funniest fic i’ve ever read in this fandom. omfg. i was laughing so hard at every chapter pls read. it’s a speed dating au AND IT’S HILARIOUS also there’s phichit\seung-gil in this which i didn’t even know was a thing\didn’t ship UNTIL THIS FIC IT’S JUST A SIDE PAIRING BUT I LOOOOVE IT AND BOTH OF THEM

Speed Dating (Let’s Take it Slow) by @apalettefullofyou

summary:

“Why like this?” Yuuri asks, breaking the silence.

Phichit grins. “Because desperate times call for desperate measures. And if you haven’t noticed, we’re desperate.“

Tired of watching Georgi mull over his recent breakup, Viktor and the gang take him speed dating, hoping one of the twenty-something strangers could help fill the hole in his heart.

Now if only he could stop crying.

u like royal au?????? am i bout to blow your MIND

this is THE royal fic. so so so good. gods. the characterization. the pining. the povs. everyone is written so well OH MY GOD ITS SO GOOD.

The Rules for Lovers by  @adreamingsongbird

Prince Yuuri Katsuki has a duty to his country, above all else (his desires, his dreams, and his happiness included), and he knows this alliance will help to ensure the safety of his people. That’s the only reason he accepts Prince Nikiforov’s hand in marriage. The pleasant surprise, of course, is the part where they fall in love along the way. The unpleasant one, well…

That’s a long story.

I went through a superheroes phase and this fandom is the best enabler. Pls check out this superhero series, like, even if you’re not that big of a fan. It’s so wonderful throughout and intriguing and god, the plot sucks you in so well. The characters and their powers are handled so well and tbh im so invested

The Yuuri!!! On fire series by @hinatella

Summary:

A detailed exposé of what working with an ex-villain is like, as told by a very distraught Yuuri Katsuki. (P.S.: it isn’t the fact that he’s an ex-villain that Yuuri is close to losing his mind.)

so! cute! domestic life after yuuri and viktor move back to russia!! so cute!!! omg!!!!

Safety Hazards in St. Petersburg by @lucycamui

summary:

In which Yuuri moves in with Victor in St. Petersburg and Victor discovers just how distracting living with him can be.

Alternatively titled, How Many Ways Can Victor Hurt Himself? or Idiots in Love

Authors I advise to immediately read everything they produce because fUCK

Ebenroot - they wrote the princess diaries fic above but jfc. Jfc. there’s so much more. They’re doing a fairy tale au that i scream into a pillow every time it updated. Everything they write is just so purely GOOD dear GODS

Xylophones i recced their star trek series above BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE! They did a halloween week of fics that im still obsessed with (GO READ MOONSTRUCK PLEASEEEE!!!) so there’s a ton more to check out!!!

Thehandsingsweapon / @handsingsweapon *opens coat* u want some wonderfully developed characters? Some of that good character development shit?? The best parents i’ve ever read for sir victor nikiforov?????? Literally please read these fics for the pure existence of victor’s wonderful lesbian mothers. God. its all i want in life and i have to live vicariously through these fics.

Spookyfoot / @spookyfoot if for some odd reason you dont have the time/will to read 30 wonderful yoi fics, for the love of god please read their spy/mistaken identity fic. God please. It’s been months since i got the notification email for it and i STILL LAUGH FROM THE THOUGHT OF IT. so good. im in love. 

okay okay, it’s sunday night and im using this to stall doing my homework but i should go now. let me know if you want anymore!! lol it might take awhile for me to finally answer the ask but ill get to it!!! 

#fic recs #yuri on ice #yoi #my asks #anon #rosy answers

[fenfyre]

Ive got a question! How do you manage to write continuously? Ive been struggling a lot in that area since I dont write that often, but when i do its 4k words. You seem to write pretty regularly. Do you have some tips for those who fail to do so? And how can my writing attract attention? when i post something and it only gets 2 likes and no reblogs its pretty unsatisfying... keep being awesome! and keep up the great work~ -a secret admirer who hopes that their english grammar didnt sound too bad

First of all thank you for your message and please don’t worry, your English is fine! I wouldn’t have known you’re not a native speaker if you hadn’t mentioned it (but maybe that’s cause I’m also not a native speaker, who knows).I am definitely no authority on good writing habits and there’s as many different ways to write as there’s writers out there. But you asked how I manage to write regularly so I’ll just tell you about my habits. Just keep in mind this is what works for me personally, you can tweak and change my tips however you want to make them fit for you!I think it’s important to mention that I don’t always manage to write as much as I do right now. That’s mostly because I have a lot of free time at the moment. When I’m stressed I write way less, maybe once or twice a week or not at all. Because then I’m tired and don’t have any motivation left after a long day at uni and let’s face it, writing is damn hard. But I also greatly enjoy it, creating something makes me feel good about myself and helps me cope in difficult situations. So when motivation is low and I feel like just crawling into bed instead of sitting down in front of the laptop I try to remind myself that writing is not some chore I need to get done but that it’s something I truly, deeply love and that I’ll feel so much better after getting a few words down.That’s one of the first steps for me. Making writing precious and part of my me time, thinking of it as a form of self-care. Maybe keeping a little writing journal can help with developing a positive attitude towards writing. Just jot down a few words about your mood before and after each writing session. If you’re similar to me you might notice a trend that looks like this “Before: tired, annoyed, anxious. After: proud, more relaxed and happy”Then I make sure to choose a time for my writing where I can be uninterrupted and focus just on the task on hand. Maybe that’s early in the morning before classes, in the afternoon after work or at night before bed, all depends on when I can make time to be productive for a bit. I get cozy, make myself some tea and get a few snacks, put on some music (I generally like instrumental or sometimes indie for the smuttier stuff) and get to work. Before I start I always have a certain goal in mind, usually to hit 750 words. That was the number to hit every day during a challenge I took part in years ago and that kind of stuck with me. I work in 25 minute intervals, taking small breaks to review my process and it usually only takes me two of those to hit my goal. See, I’m not a particularly fast writer, I average about 900-1000 words an hour and getting down 4k like you in a single setting would be near impossible for me, even on a good day where I do nothing but write. But that’s fine, everyone has their own style. I managed to build somewhat of a habit, 50 minutes of writing a day. 50 minutes of me time to reboot and refresh and that accumulates with time into longer stories.I also recently started using a free app to track my writing, where I can put in what projects I’m working on with overall and daily word count goals, a writing log and graphic charts to track my progress, reminders to write and all kinds of neat little gimmicks. It’s called Writeometer in the Playstore if you want to take a look. It also keeps track of your writing streak so there’s an extra nudge not to slack off when you’ve built a nice one. Definitely helps to keep the momentum going!Another big motivation for me is to post here, get a bit of feedback and feel like people are waiting for more. I’ve been really lucky with and so grateful for all my sweet followers who keep supporting me, reblogging my things and sending cute messages. But it’s hard to get out there and I understand the frustration of working hard on something, being proud of it, wanting to share it and not getting any feedback at all. I’ve been there. Still am a lot of the time, depending on what I’m working on. I’m not a big name myself and I deeply appreciate every note floating my way.It’s hard for writers on tumblr. Fics are so much harder to consume than fanart, you can’t tell by a single glance if you like them and want to share them, blobs of text don’t look cute on blogs and many people don’t take the time to work their way into a story when they’re just idly scrolling down their dash. That doesn’t mean artists don’t deserve every bit of the attention they’re getting! It just would be nice for writers to be recognized as well. But that’s not something we can really help so here’s a few things you can do:Get out there, make friends and have fun with them! Reach out inside your fandoms and see if you can get connected, maybe visit streams of artists you like to get to know people (shoutout to fabulous sintral, I still love you all very much I’m just a little shit!) or just beat down your anxiety enough to message someone whose blog you enjoy. Offer to fill prompts or write fic for fanart you adore. It’s insanely flattering to get art for your fics or fics for you art and if they brag and squee about it, that’s exposure. And you made someone happy! (This isn’t to say you should only try to make friends to get more notes on your work, that’s kind of a dick move. I’m just saying that getting connected is fun and will help get your stuff out there).It’s also helpful to not chill in mostly dead fandoms all the time (like me) (sorry snk fandom I heard there’s shit happening again soon. Hang in there). I got the most feedback on the Yuuri on Ice fics I wrote when the fandom was at it’s peak. So where there’s actually lots of people there’s more chances of being recognized. Though I also understand if your passion lies somewhere less crowded. Don’t force yourself to write something just because you think you might reach more people with it.Overall I’m not an expert on how to best attract attention. I think a lot of it is just luck and persistence. Keep writing, keep putting yourself out there, have a good time and in the end you’ll find cool people with similar interests. At least that worked for me?All the best to you, anon! And if there’s any more questions feel free to send me another message.

#anonymous #answered #nice things #fen gives advice #that's apparently a thing i do sometimes? #who knew #also this got long #i'm sorry #long post