#kw23

[dawum-de]

Wochenrückblick über die Wahlumfragen der 23. Kalenderwoche 2026 ➤ https://dawum.de/Chronik/

[dawum-de]

[dawum-de]

[firstdegreefangirl]

Hey! I’ve been loving your Will Trent fanfic, especially given how few fics there are for the show. I just finished the season and I’m kind of obsessed now lol. Thanks for making my day!

Thank you, nonnie! Your ask made my day (and several other days, when I've come back in here and seen it again)!

I've been trying to hold onto this one until I had a new Will Trent fic ready to post, but the time and motivation just aren't lining up right to put the finishing touches in place. So just know that there's something exciting on the horizon (as soon as someone signs a note for my boss, granting me a month off work to finish all of my WIPs)

[kataracy]

Kataang Week DAY 3 // Confessions & Whispers

Wanna get out of here?

[kataracy]

Kataang Week DAY 2 // Injured

I like your hair

[firstdegreefangirl]

I'm loving your chenford stories ❤️ hitting me right in my feels so thank you! 😊

ahh, I've been sitting on this one for ages, but thank you!! I appreciate everyone who was along for the ride in Whumptober, and also just generally indulges my fanfic whims!

[firstdegreefangirl]

We Do Nice

There’s a knock at the door, then another right after. The first one is timid; enough to catch Ian’s attention, but not enough to pull him off of his sofa, away from his latest rewatch of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.

The second knock, he fears, might break down the door. If his compound weren’t so well fortified. Nobody is getting past his state-of-the-art security system. And even if they did, his top-notch defense system would stop them.

Still, he gets up and flings the door open, ignoring the full-color video doorbell screen displayed on the wall.

“Poppy?” He says, after they’ve stared at each other in silence for a long moment, once he processes that she’s standing on his doorstep. Her worn-in red hoodie is draped across her shoulders, pulled tightly across her front where she’s folded her arms with her hands in the pockets.

“Hey, Ian.” She tries to smile, he thinks, but it’s really only one corner of her mouth that twitches up a little bit.

“You’re ... uh, why are you here?” Something shifts in her posture, and he tries to backtrack. “Not that I don’t like you, but it’s Christmas night, and we already spent all day together. Was I expecting you?”

“No.” Poppy shakes her head, staring at her feet.

“Alright, so ...”

“My family hates me.” She rolls her eyes up to look at Ian. “Don’t they?”

Read the rest on ao3 here!