Nov 18, 2025
Carl/Akram + kitty doodle requested by gettinbyi <3
doodles for ko-fi goal
seen from United States
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seen from France
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Sweden
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Macao SAR China
Carl/Akram + kitty doodle requested by gettinbyi <3
doodles for ko-fi goal
Qvember 2025
This November, we’re celebrating Qvember, a creative fandom challenge for Dept. Q on Netflix, and we’d love for you to join!
We have prompts for every day of November to spark your imagination. Whether you’re a writer, artist, editor, or otherwise creative mind, take a look at our prompt list below and see what inspires you. There’s no limit to what you can create or what medium you choose—anything goes.
There are no rules about where to post—share your work wherever you feel most at home: Tumblr, AO3, fanfiction.net, Bluesky, Instagram, TikTok, Dreamwidth, Pillowfort, Reddit, you name it. Just tag your creations with #Qvember so others can find and celebrate them too!
Whether you participate once or every day, we would love to have you! Let’s fill November with brooding, swearing, laughing, loving, kink, quirk and going doolally, one prompt at a time.
Text beneath the cut:
WIP Whenever
Tagged by the sensational @gettingbyi — this was originally meant to be for the Qvember prompt Hallucinations, but has been parked indefinitely. So less a WIP and more a WNIP.
The ceiling swims, then steadies. The pain in his shoulder pulses hot and insistent, but it’s background noise now. This— this has clarity. Akram says something that ends in a question. There’s a pause. Then a reply, too quiet to parse, followed by Akram again, firmer this time. Carl’s mouth goes dry. It isn’t the words. It’s the rhythm. The same clipped cadence he thought he heard in Leith Park through ringing ears and gunfire, the same calm certainty that followed violence. His brain supplies the missing meaning with ruthless efficiency. He’s confirming. He’s checking the address. He’s making sure I'm awake. Carl pushes himself up on the sofa inch by careful inch. The room tilts, but he rides it. He’s very good at functioning through pain; it’s practically a job requirement. The room feels longer than it should. Akram stands with his back to him, phone at his ear, one hand braced on the wall like he’s been there a while. Vulnerable, Carl thinks distantly. A terrible place to stand. Akram says Carl’s name. Just once. Quietly. Carl freezes. The phone call continues. He’s telling them where I am. Carl’s gaze drops to the kitchen. The knife block sits where it always does. He wants distance. He wants something real in his hand. He moves. The sound is small: bare feet on wood, the brush of his sleeve against the counter. The knife slides free with a soft, intimate whisper. Akram stops speaking mid-sentence. He turns. For a second they just look at each other. Carl’s chest is tight, breath coming shallow. “Who the fuck are you talking to?” Akram’s eyes flick to the knife. Back to Carl’s face. He lowers the phone slowly, thumb still resting on the screen. “Carl,” he says, voice steady, English now. “Put that down.”
The basement's finest... dead on target.
Inspired by the prompts 'most chaotic trio', 'colour coordinated' and 'most intense look' 😅 for @qvember.
I love "portraits" so this was a lot of fun!
Seven sentence Sunday
Currently preparing for QVember, here's a snippet of the first day :)
Jasper shouldn't be here. He shouldn't know the place, shouldn't navigate the frustrating labyrinth of white hallways better than the ones at school, shouldn't think of wound cleaning and silicone sheets when the nauseating smell of sterile environment hits him. He shouldn't know where the ED is without looking, he shouldn't remember the dark stain that covers the first a on Vascular Surgery on the main direction sign. He sure as heck shouldn't remember the path between buildings that optimizes both distance and time spent in the freezing cold. If anything, he should be the one being carried on a stretcher, under a survival blanket after a rough game, or for being stupid with alcohol, or even more stupid with a car. He shouldn't be the one who has to fucking worry about the differences in triage categories, trying to remember the last words he's said to his stepfather, because they were probably not nice, because they never have nice things anymore. Martin would probably tell him he shouldn't be angry either.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dept. Q (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Carl Morck/Akram Salim Characters: Carl Morck (Dept. Q), Akram Salim, Jasper Stewart Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, Sleepovers, Quiet Sex, Top Akram, Bottom Carl, Awkward Conversations, Teasing, Love Confessions, Kissing, Carl needs to be tenderly railed, Akram is secretly Fond, Porn with Feelings, Jasper is not going to be traumatized in this story don't worry, E rated but it's pretty soft focus tbh, Light Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:
Carl and Akram's knack for nonverbal communication is put to the test when they find themselves less alone in Carl's flat than they'd planned on.
(Qvember day 30, triple prompt: "Not a single word spoken," "Trapped," and "Fuck around and find out.")
In a plot twist nobody saw coming, I did, in fact, manage to finish and post the second (well, day 5, but whatever) in the Qvember/Dept Q writing challenge.
This is in fact very weird for me to be 1) on time and 2) not in the 10k range for words and MOSTLY doing fluff (or at least, not out and out angst/hurt/comfort/whump).
Look at me, being brave and branching out.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Title: Proven Techniques for Stress Management in Public Speaking Author: greenapricot Fandom: Dept Q Characters: Carl Morck, James Hardy Pairing: Carl Morck/James Hardy Rating: Explicit Word count: 2522 Warnings: None
The first of my Qvember fics. _____
His phone, when he finally finds it, is down by the foot of the bed under the pages containing the opening statements. A text from Hardy.
>> What are you wearing?
Carl frowns down at the screen. Trackies and an old jumper
>> Sexy >> What colour are they?
Navy blue
>> Are there any strategically placed holes in these trackies?
Carl shakes his head, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite himself. You’ve seen them a million times
>> You’re no fun
This is no fun
Proven Techniques for Stress Management in Public Speaking on Ao3
