#prettygoododds

500 words

Prompt - roar

Another Hollanov fic coming your way. I really spiced it up this challenge!

@10daysto1k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/82524266

snowbaz on ice

Thank you @facewithoutheart @roomwithanopenfire and @artsyunderstudy for the tags today.

I am loving all the new fics hitting my feed and email. There L’s a certain joy from all your favs updating all at once and the rush of catching up.

I’ve been working in a little bit of everything but most Questions We Don’t Ask. Thank you again @artsyunderstudy for putting that as a rec.

It’s funny to me, when I decided I wanted to make that Fic happen, I told my friend that this is one just for me. That I “knew” it wouldn’t go over well but that I had to get it out of my brain. I knew it was angsty. I knew it brought to light the parts of Simon and Baz that get glossed over. But I had to. So thank you to everyone who is reading that and leaving just the best comments ever. It means the world to me.

Here’s a little tease from part 3:

Then because he can’t go even a few moments without saying something that leaves me speechless,says, “You should get a cat.”

“Why?” I ask with a chuckle.

“Because you’re all alone. And you’re definitely not a dog person.”

“I’m not lonely.”

“I didn’t say you were lonely,” he says, once again looking at me like he sees through me. That even though he didn’t say it, he knows I am. But he doesn’t let the somber mood settle. He jumps up on his knees and leans over me to kiss me soundly. “Let’s go, I’m feeling restless.”

He leaps out of bed, picking up his clothes as he goes. I watch as his bare arse walks out of my room and laugh at the absurdity of my life.

Also, in case you missed it, @pidgelikethebird and I posted the first few chapters of our COBB submission, The Great War. I don’t know when the next chapter will go up, but here’s a snippet of a convo between Baz and Dev:

“I’m… surviving.”

“Barely,” he snorts.

“I’m doing my best,” I argue.

“Bet that doesn’t help,” he says, motioning with his chin towards the path that leads to the gardens.

There’s Simon, arm and arm with Lady Wellbelove, walking toward my mother’s gardens without a care in the world. Him smiling at her. Her laughing at something he whispered in her ear.

It’s like a stab to the heart.

Welp, that outta do it. Happy Wednesday everyone!

Tags: @ic3-que3n @dohrnaira @thewholelemon @imagineacoolusername @shemakesmeforget

@ivelovedhimthroughworse @wellbelesbian @rimeswithpurple @aristocratic-otter @cutestkilla

@blackberrysummerblog @nausikaaa @supercutedinosaurs @valeffelees @iamamythologicalcreature

@shrekgogurt @ileadacharmedlife @martsonmars @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @hushed-chorus

@youarenevertooold @noblecorgi @bookish-bogwitch @talentpiper11

Thank you @leithillustration @thewholelemon @nausikaaa @monbons and @artsyunderstudy for the tags today.

I am loving all the content today! Spring has sprung everyone into action it seems!

I did a fairly good job during the week this week of getting words onto paper (types on a screen). This weekend, on the other hand, was foiled by my determination to finish this:

And I did. Literally right before I got on here and saw all the things. I do not know what I’m going to do with this yet, but it’s DONE.

As for words, I’ve been mostly inspired to work on the Alan/Jack Power Unbound fic ( seriously, if you like Carry On, run don’t walk to read The Last Binding Series). Here’s a snippet of that ( please tell me if the innuendo lands, I was cracking up when I typed it but it was kinda late at night and now I’m second guessing):

Instead he turns and gets rewarded for his good behavior, “Ah, Mr. Ross, working for a more reputable paper these days I see.”

“Seems I got to be in someone's good favor,” Alan says with a sly smile, Jack has to suck on his cheeks to stop from returning it.

“Must be impressed by your diction,” Jack quips back with a raised eyebrow and a quick glance to Alan’s crotch. But he schools his face fast and with an air of being completely put out asks, “I suppose you prefer to do this in a more private setting? Your type wants to be able to misquote us with as few witnesses as possible.”

I’m also slowly working on Questions We Don’t Ask, but it’s putting up a fight. I feel like I’m just filling space and not making any headway in the direction it needs to go. But words were typed, even if I f do not know how many will stay. Here’s a sad, smoking Baz:

“I’m going to go have a smoke,” I say instead.

He tilts his head, examining me, eyes searching for something. My mind tells me I don’t want him to find it, whatever it is he’s looking for. That if he does I’ll never recover.

“Alright,” he says, but he doesn’t move. I’m trapped between him and the counter, legs bracketing his hips. “Dinner is almost done, so don’t mope out there too long.”

And as always I’ve been working on my COBB piece but I’m gonna keep that one to myself. But I will say @pidgelikethebird is doing an astounding job on the art front and I can’t wait for you all to see it.

It’s late, so these tags are more like hellos then actual tags: @dohrnaira @facewithoutheart @imagineacoolusername @shemakesmeforget @ivelovedhimthroughworse @wellbelesbian

@rimeswithpurple @aristocratic-otter @cutestkilla @blackberrysummerblog @supercutedinosaurs

@nightimedreamersworld @valeffelees @iamamythologicalcreature @shrekgogurt @ileadacharmedlife

@martsonmars @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @hushed-chorus @roomwithanopenfire @youarenevertooold

Thank you @nausikaaa for the tag

Still typing away on *checks notes* 4 open WIPs. I vaguely remember a time when I told myself only one project at a time. I know, I’m laughing too. I’m only going to share from one today and it’s the one I hope to post in the next 10 days to say I contributed to EGF:

“You smoke?” he asks, turning his dumb blues eyes toward me.

“No,” I reply dryly, blowing smoke out the side of my mouth toward him.

“Is that why you were always hiding out near the fucking catacombs?” I shrug and it’s as good as a yes.

Simon nods, and takes my cigarette as I lift my hand to take another puff. I think he’s going to toss it over the ledge, lecture me about the dangers of my one vice (other than him). Instead he puts it to his own mouth and takes a long, practice drag. Blowing it out his nose and lips and I have to remember how to breathe just watching the spectacle.

“Good as place as any, I suppose,” he continues. “Place gave everyone the creeps. No one would find you there.”

“You did,” I remind him.

“Yeah,” he says with a big grin and mischief twinkling in his eyes. “But I was looking.”

I did make more progress on my crochet buffalo and the little critter should be done by the end of the week (fingers crossed).

Hope everyone has a great Wednesday!

Tags: @ic3-que3n @dohrnaira @thewholelemon @facewithoutheart @artsyunderstudy

@imagineacoolusername @shemakesmeforget @ivelovedhimthroughworse @wellbelesbian @rimeswithpurple

@aristocratic-otter @cutestkilla @blackberrysummerblog @supercutedinosaurs @nightimedreamersworld

@valeffelees @iamamythologicalcreature @shrekgogurt @ileadacharmedlife @martsonmars

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @hushed-chorus @roomwithanopenfire @youarenevertooold

Our doggie never recovered from her back injury and we agonized over the decision we needed to make, but eventually her quality of life just sucked. She was depressed not being able to walk. She lost weight, slept all day. It was sad. So, we made the unthinkable decision to put her down and that day was an awful day. But she went out with 2 Happy Meals in her tummy and a handful of Hershey’s kisses. Before I get to the next part, a moment for Miss Sally May.

So, like I was saying. I’ve not been in a good place. The three weeks of taking care of an immobile dog really wear on a you and then grief is its own separate weight. I tried opening my laptop if few times and got so angry at… well, everything I just couldn’t fathom writing anything.

Prior to Sally’s accident, we’d been looking for another kitten. We put it on hold cuz, priorities. But I’ve kept an eye out. I’m a firm believer the right pet speaks to you. So while all kittens are cute, none of them were giving me strong feelings of “that’s my cat”. Until……

Yesterday I decided to look at what our local shelter had (mind you, I had planned to go there over the weekend, but saw nothing that called to me). But to my surprise, I saw my cat. No question. I filled out the application within minutes of seeing him and made an appointment for a meet and greet. And to top it all off, look at his name:

He obviously came home with us and just completely made himself at home within minutes of being let out of his box. He’s a snuggler and a major purrer.

Anywho, I actually opened my laptop and did some editing last night. He filled my cup in ways I haven’t been able to in a long time.

I hope this means I’ll have updates on any number of my outstanding fics. Thank you to everyone who tagged me on Wednesdays and Sundays. Don’t ever stop. I’ll always come back no matter how long I’m away.

Hello and thank you to @blackberrysummers and @monbons for the tags today.

Although I have other words I could share, I'm actively participating in the 10dayto1K Spooky Season Edition. And it being the first day, 100 words is maybe close to six sentences.

Please enjoy these 100 words

Thank you @martsonmars @thewholelemon @artsyunderstudy @angelsfalling16 @blackberrysummerblog @cutestkilla and @monbons

I haven’t done too much this week. The pupper is still immobile and I’m running in an average of 4 hrs of sleep a night. I’m cranky and sad and just not in a good headspace to write anything. But, she wagged her tail today and that Hasnt happened for over a week. Is it progress… I don’t know but at least she’s happy. Mr. Odds is calling the vet tomorrow, see if she’s in track or if she needs another visit.

That got a bit rambly, sorry. I do have a few more than six sentences today. It’s from me and @pidgelikethebird COBB submission The Great War. If my brain can remember, I’ll post the next chapter at the end of this week. Here’s a conversation between Simon and the King.

“I need you for this one Simon. I need you to get him to tell you who the girl is.”

I scratch the back of my neck, my hand comes away with sweat all over the palm, nearly dripping, “Uhh—We’re not exactly fond of each other. I think he’d rather see his lover dead than tell me anything.”

I’m not a good liar. I think that is one of the things the King likes most about me. I’m an open book and unable to deceive. But I hope for my sake, this one time, I’m able to convince him of this.

“Then beat it out of him,” he says, his eyes telling me that he’ll beat me if I don’t get this information, but he’d rather his hands stayed clean and I be his good little servant.

Also, in case you missed it, I updated Picket Fence Is Sharp As Knives. I think they’ll be one more chapter of that. Famous last words, right.

Oh! Also, I needed a crochet project I could finish in one sitting so I could feel some happiness… I made these:

Anywho, thanks for letting me ramble and de-stress a bit and for all the tags it was so exciting to see all the notifications.