#I have been getting them nonstop for days

[sexygayvampire]

okay. i must do this for vervain and emmrich immediately

1. pretty much at first sight, yeah. he is utterly disarmed by emmrich’s charm, whimsy, and skill at his craft. during that recruitment mission at the necropolis he falls hard and fast. no coming back from that.

2. seeing the way he fights for his cause. i imagine it’s during the double dragon fight that it hits emmrich, seeing vervain’s determination and passion at their strongest—for revenge for minrathous, for justice for treviso. vervain will stop at nothing until minrathous is free of venatori and treviso is cleared of blight, and witnessing his anger at full throttle and his sheer force of will makes emmrich weak in the knees.

3. longer than it should have. vervain flirts and teases incessantly, but he waits for emmrich to make the first move, and emmrich overthinks it. by the time he finally asks vervain if he can kiss him, taash is near murderous and bellara owes neve 20 gold.

4. vervain is deeply fascinated by the mourn watch and their practices. he loves visiting the necropolis and constantly asks emmrich questions about necromancy and spirits and nevarran culture. i think emmrich has a lot of respect and admiration for the shadow dragons and the work that they do, and he’s happy to lend a hand in vervain’s work where he can.

5. as above, vervain loves learning about emmrich’s culture and is always enthusiastic about partaking in rituals and whatnot. on the other end, he’s been teaching emmrich all the hidden-gem hole-in-the-wall spots in the city, how to spot a scam, cheating at wicked grace 101, and other dock town traditions. emmrich is eager to learn, if not a bit concerned at times.

6. they do a lot of reading in silence together. aside from that, emmrich has taught vervain to slow down and appreciate a walk in the garden or a cup of tea, and vervain brings emmrich on late nights out in dock town, whirlwinds of drinks and dancing that leave them both exhausted and laughing. vervain learns about art and architecture. emmrich learns dock town’s best back alleys to make out in. they spend hours talking about magic and history. i think if jigsaw puzzles existed in thedas they would become the most irritating people in the world.

7. extremely physically affectionate. emmrich always has a hand on vervain’s shoulder or waist. vervain loves pda and cannot go five minutes without kissing emmrich. they’re gushy and annoying and call each other pet names and taash has asked lucanis what his rates are for a hit

8. they don’t do a lot of formal dates, but they go on outings together a lot. tending to the flowers in the necropolis gardens every week. getting drinks with the shadows at the swan. vervain isn’t really one for formality, and emmrich finds his looser approach to a relationship exciting. when they do get a nice dinner or something, vervain usually lets emmrich plan. (he tried, once. a fight broke out and they wound up having to hunt down venatori late into the night. can’t have shit in dock town.)

9. constantly. they’re attached at the hip. in the early days, vervain spins some excuses about how “there could be a demon around any corner” and how he “needs a fade expert to follow solas’s trail,” but it’s pretty obviously bullshit. neve calls him on it immediately. they fight very well together (despite both being long-range staff mages, lol) and have excellent coordination and battlefield control. …though emmrich spends a lot of time healing vervain.

10. i mean, we all know how emmrich is. dearest, darling, my love, my dear, etc.—it’s nonstop and annoys everyone else and it always makes vervain’s heart flutter. vervain mostly just calls emmrich “em,” simple but effective in making him blush, but he breaks out a “love” or a “darling” every now and then.

11. vervain absolutely thinks it first. it’s probably before they’re even together. he doesn’t half-ass anything. he’s the one to say it first, too; a casual “maker, i love you” after emmrich rambles about some necromancy thing or another. emmrich freezes up, which causes vervain to realize what he’s said and start panicking, but emmrich calms him with an “i love you too, dearest” and a kiss.

12. a lot. mostly about specific academics that irritate emmrich who he rants about, and whenever anything goes wrong, it’s their fault. “my teacup got knocked over? fucking [insert scholar] again.” also vervain has been trying to get emmrich to say “fuck” for like, five months. at this point he must be holding out on purpose

13. (opens vervain’s 7 and a half hour playlist) (cracks knuckles) tunnel lights - chelsea wolfe. to die for - the birthday massacre. live 4ever - magdalena bay. bone marrow - mellowdrone. fly on the windscreen - depeche mode.

14. vervain loves to give gifts. he’s not very good with words, so he brings emmrich little trinkets like a weird cat. his favorite flowers, jewelry, books he thinks he might like, some fancy tea from antiva, just a constant stream of small gifts to show his affection. emmrich’s gift-giving is more of a grand gesture—he gives vervain one of his own bracelets, expensive wine, all rose petals and romance. both are extremely endeared to the other’s gifts and treasure everything they’ve exchanged.

15. emmrich was a mess. they left off after that argument about how emmrich would definitely die before vervain, and, well. he hadn’t thought about the alternative. he was not prepared to lose him. he hardly slept, he looked like shit, he holed himself away with bellara to work on that dagger and try to figure out how to get vervain back. lucanis had to remind him to eat. upon rescue, they somehow became even more inseparable. emmrich could not stop crying for like two hours. he was exhausted and overjoyed and experiencing every emotion and damn that argument, he swore to treasure every moment they would ever have together, no matter what was to happen at the end of it.

16. he was overwhelmed with guilt and anger for davrin and neve. he knew emmrich would be terrified for him and wanted nothing more than to soothe his pain. the self-reflection required by the fade prison was… difficult. he’s honestly still in disbelief that he was able to leave at all. but he absolutely refused to leave emmrich like that, without resolving their fight. his determination to make things right is what got him out in the end.

17. vervain absolutely adores how excited emmrich gets when talking about necromancy. emmrich admires vervain’s unwavering confidence and courage.

18. marriage is a certainty. it might not fly in tevinter, but they can do it in nevarra. vervain will not stop fighting until there are no venatori left alive or he dies trying to make that happen, so retirement isn’t exactly in the cards for him, but he will insist upon emmrich not working himself too hard as he grows older. as for children, they have manfred and that’s all they need. but maybe they could get a cat. manfred would love a cat.

Questions for your Rook and their partner:

Does your Rook fall for their partner at first sight? If not, what moment made your Rook realize they're in love with them?

When does the partner realize that they're in love with Rook?

How long does it take for them to officially get together? Did any of the other Lighthouse members have any suspicions beforehand?

Do your Rook and their partner share the same faction? If so, does that affect their relationship at all? If not, what is your Rook's opinion of their partner's faction? What is the partner's opinion of Rook's faction?

Do they have different cultural backgrounds (e.g. a Rook who was raised in Antiva with Harding who was raised in Ferelden)? If so, do they ever share parts of their culture with each other? If they're similar, how do they celebrate their culture together?

What is their favorite thing to do together? Do they share any hobbies? Does your Rook teach their partner their own hobbies? Does the partner teach Rook theirs?

Are they a physically affectionate couple? Are they fine displaying those affections in public or do they prefer to be in private? If they're not, how do they prefer to show their love instead?

What does their ideal date look like? Do they go on much?

Does your Rook bring them out often? How are they like on the battlefield? Do they banter much?

Do they have any nicknames for each other? Who uses terms of endearment more?

Who says "I love you" first? What is the other's reaction? Who thinks it first?

Any inside jokes?

What song(s) do you associate with them?

Does your Rook get their partner any other gifts (besides the one already in-game)? Does the partner get Rook any? Any gifts that are particularly special?

What was the partner's reaction to Rook being imprisoned in the Fade? How did they cope? How did they react upon seeing Rook again?

How did your Rook react to getting trapped in the Fade and separated from their partner?

What is your Rook's favorite thing about their partner? What is the partner's favorite thing about Rook?

When all is said and done, where would they like to retire together? Is marriage in the cards for them? Children? Pets?

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Which op yan do you think would be the most annoying texter in a modern au?? I think sanji would drive me insane, I know he'd be texting nonstop. I also think buggy would ask his romantic interest if they'd still love him as a worm. Many times.

Sanji would be so excessive. You have to put your phone on do not disturb just to have a moment's peace. It literally never ends.

Sanji: Good morning, my love! It's another beautiful day of being able to call you mine 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

*pic attached*

Sanji: Here's the breakfast I'm making you! I'll bring it over as soon as it's done 😋😘

-

*sends a pic of any two things next to each other*

Sanji: This is literally us 🥺

-

Sanji: I just wanted to say again how much I love you💞❤️🩷💕💞💓🩷💕💞 (he says this even though he saw you in person three minutes ago and said the exact same thing then)

-

Sanji: Where did you go???? Are you mad at me??????? Have you been kidnapped?????????

Sanji: Oh wait never mind I see you now

Sanji: I'm calling your name why are you running the other way?

Buggy is someone who needs constant reassurance, and he uses having your phone number as a means to constantly get that from you. But like he's also very dramatic about it.

Buggy: do u hate me now? say it to my face at least

You: literally what are you talking about?

Buggy: I asked you a question and you ignored me!

You: I was gone for like 2 minutes????

Buggy: AND???? Why were you gone???

You: I was ordering some food for us but nvm I'm gonna go home and eat it all myself 😒

Buggy: ...

Buggy: I'm sorry please don't hate me for real now 🥺🥺🥺 I love you so much baby please don't leave me 😭😭😭

Zoro is on the opposite end of the spectrum because he doesn't text excessively, but you are lucky to get more than a one word response out of him. You could send him a several paragraph long text spilling your guts to him and all you'll get from him is a "k" or "alright" or "👍". If you send more than two texts in a row, he'll tell you to just call him if you're going to yap that much.

Luffy doesn't text, he sends voice memos. Not only does he send an absurd amount of them, but they're also all stupidly long because he gets distracted and rambles to his heart's content. What was supposed to be a simple voice memo asking if his jacket is at your place comes to you with a 31:46 time on it because he saw a cool looking beetle outside and just had to tell you about it in the memo. Half the time he forgets that he isn't actually on the phone with you and will ask a question several times before he remembers.

Doflamingo sends a lot of texts, but all of them are voice to text and are almost entirely unintelligible. The voice to text function wasn't designed to interpret his weird inflections and maniacal laughter. He also has a tendency to talk to other people in the middle of sending a text to you, so you have a whole ass random conversation smack in the middle of the text. He then has the audacity to have an attitude with you when you didn't catch the important thing he told you.

With Ace, you're going to feel like you're communicating via hieroglyphics because of how many of his messages to you are just memes/reaction images. He won't elaborate and lets you figure out what they mean. Did he just find that meme funny, or is there a hidden message in it? Who knows.

And then you have all of the old men (Sengoku, Garp, Whitebeard, etc) who can't text for shit and will send a series of unintelligible and confused texts before sending a very defeated "please call me"

[sister-lucifer]

An Epoch of Horticulture: Chapter One

[Masterlist] 

Ticci Toby x Gender Neutral Reader 

Genre: Slow burn, fluff 

Summary: An odd figure slinks into your apothecary on a rainy day 

Content/warnings: Profanity, a bit of awkward conversation, my personal headcanons about Toby + his disabilities, I made up some magic fantasy plants for this so don’t think too hard about it, thankies 

This is not fully proofread, please let me know if you see any errors. 

Feedback is appreciated and encouraged. 

If you like this fic, please reblog! It’s free, takes two seconds, and it’s a great way to support writers.  

The rain has been falling nonstop since dawn. Not once has the endless patter of water on the roof of your apothecary ceased, or even slowed. Now and then you glance out the window at the stubborn clouds, willing them to move, but they refuse. 

You’ve busied yourself with menial tasks today; scrubbing the counter, reorganizing your tools, alphabetizing your seeds. Despite your silent hope, though, not one customer has come through. Bad weather means no foot traffic—you know that, but it’s still a fair bit disappointing. For the fifth time today, you debate closing up shop early. You can’t help feeling a bit dejected. It’s not easy running a small business like this, and every sale matters. 

Your little apothecary is quaint, but you’ve poured your heart and soul into making it exactly to your vision. On the front of the building is your hand-painted sign, the name “The Zenith” proudly proclaimed in a perfect forest green, and by the door sits your rainwater catchers. Inside, you’ve stacked the shelves full of anything that can be potted, and racks for drying herbs and flowers hang on either side of the shop. Behind your counter, on the furthest wall, are locked cabinets for keeping the more expensive wares, and you even have your own greenhouse through the back door. This place means so much to you—seeing it so empty is disheartening. 

You heave a heavy sigh as you trudge to the door, deciding to just give up for today. The rain shows no signs of stopping, and that means no one will be coming in. You can always try again tomorrow, right? 

You reach up to turn the sign on the door from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed.’ Just as your fingers touch the wood, though, you pause. An odd sound has caught your attention. You only recognize it as the sound of frantic footsteps on the wet cobblestone for a split second. 

In a flash, a dark figure appears from out of the gloom. You barely manage to move out of the way before the door swings open. You almost wince, worried it may come off the hinges, or perhaps knock the bell off its hook. 

A tall man rushes in, stumbling like a fawn on ice and nearly getting a bit too friendly with the ground. You watch him gain his bearings, not taking your eyes off him as you quickly shut the door back. He huffs as if he can’t catch his breath. 

Your eyes slowly scan him from the bottom up as you try to discern if you’ve seen him before. His thick, leather boots are clearly worn from use, and caked in mud that’s left a filthy trail on your floor. His baggy work pants are equally weathered, with patches of scrap fabric messily stitched on in random places. He wears a navy windbreaker half zipped over a ratty, brown hoodie, and when your gaze gets to the edge of his sleeve you can see that he’s wearing gloves. He pulls his hood down off his head—good heavens, he’s paler than death—and shakes out a curly thatch of brunette hair. You could liken him to a big dog shaking off its coat. 

He turns to face you, boots squelching in the small puddle he’s created around his feet. The bandage on his cheek crinkles as his face stretches with a crooked smile. Your attention is momentarily drawn to the one chipped tooth he keeps running his tongue over. 

“Not ex-exactly the bess-ss-t day to be— b-be—bop! Bopop!—out and about, h-huh— huh?” he says with a chuckle, followed by several clicks of his tongue in an odd rhythm. You nod in agreement, still a bit too startled by his sudden entrance to reply. One of his hazel eyes scans the shelves with curiosity; the other, you notice, struggles to follow it. 

After a second more of silence, you snap out of your surprise. 

“Oh, let me take your coat,” you say quickly, reaching up to take the windbreaker off him. He happily complies, pulling the striped sleeves of his hoodie free from the jacket. It continues to drip as you hook it on the rack. You make a mental note to do some good mopping later. 

You turn back to your guest, only to find him on the other side of the room. He’s crouched in front of a pot of sour brandy, eyeing it intensely. He leans in to sniff the opening of the pitcher-like flower. 

“You don’t wanna do that!” You call out, but you aren’t fast enough. He winces and groans in disgust, rising to his feet so fast he nearly falls. You have to choke back a laugh. 

“Sorry,” you say with a barely disguised giggle, “you might wanna avoid smelling random plants in here. That’s sour brandy.” 

You pick up a pamphlet from your counter and hold it out to him. 

“It’s known for its incredibly acerbic taste, and is usually used to, uh…expel irritants from the stomach. Here—this will tell you everything you need to know about that sort of thing.” 

He huffs, like he’s trying to push the smell out of his nose. He takes the pamphlet from you, but only flips through it for a few seconds before folding it in two and shoving it into his pocket. Well, okay then… 

“…Um, anyways,” you continue as you move behind your counter, “welcome to The Zenith. What can I get for you today?” 

He only stares back at you like you’ve just spoken another language. You’re about to repeat yourself when you’re interrupted by a sudden jerking of his neck. It pops in a way that surely must be painful, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. 

“Just a ss-second,” he replies, holding up one hand while the other pats around his pockets. One side of his face twitches as he digs into his hoodie. After a bit of searching, he pulls out a slip of paper, unfolding it and pushing it across the table towards you with a shaky hand. 

Some ink comes off on your fingers as you pick it up. The words are a bit smudged with raindrops, but it’s readable enough, even with the pompous cursive handwriting. You nearly scoff as you scan the list of plant names; it’s all high-end herbs and rare flowers, even a few species you need certain credentials to own. Fortunately, you do. 

“Looks like someone’s planning a party,” you comment absentmindedly. You rifle through the keys on your belt for a moment before grabbing the one you’re looking for. 

“Oh, uh, it-it’s not for me,” the man explains, suddenly looking sheepish as he watches you unlock one of the cabinets on the back wall of the store, “my, uh, mm-m-my bosses have—click! Clickick-ick! Fuck off!—h-have this big…thing—I dunno what it is, really—going on this-ss-s weekend.” 

You give a hum of acknowledgment without looking away from what you’re doing. Briefly, you run your eyes over the various pouches of herbs sitting on the cabinet shelves, then look back down at the list. You grab each bag one by one as you read the names. 

Sailor’s red, sunflick, vylar…they better know what the hell they’re doing. 

You let out a low whistle as you close up the cabinet. Talk about crazy rich people. This mix of stuff could lay you out flat for days. The man seems to notice your expression. 

“W-What’s wrong?” he stammers with a tilt of his head. 

“Hm? Oh, nothing,” you reply with a shrug, “just, uh, this stuff is more intense than I usually go for.  I sure hope your bosses know how to prepare this sort of thing, you can’t just be throwing this into your salad…” 

He laughs—it’s a scratchy sort of warble, and it makes you grin in return. He reaches up to itch the back of his neck, and he looks like he wants to say something, but he bites his tongue. 

You drop the pouches onto the counter before moving on to the next part of your list, and to one of your shelves. While you’ve several attractive flowering plants, you notice that the types requested are quite renowned for their beautiful blooms, and all in white and yellow. You also notice, though, that many of them are incredibly high maintenance, and will die within the week if not attended to with utmost care. 

For some reason, it’s a bit hard to conjure a flattering image of these people. 

You’re almost hesitant to let your darlings go when you know in your heart they won’t be properly loved. 

Despite your woes, you gather the pots all the same. When you turn to walk back to your counter, you catch eyes with the man for a split second. He nearly jumps out of his skin before quickly putting his head down and pretending to be very interested in his shoes. 

You’re not quite sure how that makes you feel. You brush it off for now, deciding it probably isn’t all that significant; he’s a rather awkward one, after all. 

You set the flowers down on the counter, then look back at the list. The last few items aren’t kept in the front of the shop. 

“Oh, I’ll be right back,” you tell the man with a polite smile, “I need to grab a few things out of the greenhouse for you.” 

“Huh?” he barks. He was looking right at you, but it seems he wasn’t really paying attention. 

“Uh, yeah, that—th-that’s okay,” he adds quickly, a few of his knuckles popping as they flex in an unnatural manner. He shoves his hands in his pockets and lets his eyes wander idly about the store. 

As you make your way back into the greenhouse, a nagging feeling in the back of your mind starts to bloom. The tall stranger has definitely caught your attention. He couldn’t be any older than 25, but he looks worked to the bone. Despite that, you think as you pluck a few fruits from a caerulem tree, he’s got the charm of an awkward teenager. He shambles about like his body is new, or perhaps like three raccoons pretending to be a person. The idea amuses you more than you’d like to admit. 

When you return to the shop, bag of assorted fruits in hand, the man has already found something else to be interested in. He’s gingerly toying with the cap of a spongy mushroom, occasionally glancing at the pamphlet you gave him earlier. Cross-referencing, presumably. He looks up like a deer in headlights when he hears you drop the bag on the counter. 

He shoves the pamphlet back into his pocket with even less care than last time before rushing over to you like an excited child. He puts his palms flat on the counter, leaning forward a bit more than is usually socially acceptable. 

“Didja get it?” he asks, lazy eye twitching and scrunching a bit. 

“Yessir,” you reply with a quick nod and wide eyes. He seems to realize he’s overstepped a bit, and pushes back. 

He starts searching around in his pockets again.

“So, uh, h-how much will—dammit! Goddammit!—will th-th-that be?” 

You take a moment to count up everything on the counter. It’s quite the haul, that’s for sure. Good news for you. 

“…An even 80,” you declare. 

He swiftly pulls something from his pocket and smacks it into the table. When he moves his hand away, you can see it’s a drawn note for…two hundred? 

You resist the urge to groan in frustration. You begrudgingly open your register to retrieve the man’s change, but he stops you. 

“T-They said to just let— l-let you keep the cheque!” he sputters as quickly as he can. 

That makes you quirk a brow. 

“Um…are you sure?” you ask, “This is over double what this stuff is worth.” 

The man shrugs and kicks at the ground. “They do that s-ss-sort of thing all th-the—shrrrk!—all the time. ‘s not like they can’t aff-aff-afford it, ‘n’ they wanna make sure the—t-the—go away! Go away!—make sure the sh-shhh-shopkeepers like them.” 

A beat of silence passes as you mull that over. 

“…I sh-shhhouldn’t have said that,” the man mumbles. His lips quirk up in an awkward grin. Of course, you naturally return the gesture, and mime zipping your lips. You could swear it makes his restless shoulders relax a bit. 

You put the cheque away before reaching for one of the pots. Just as you pick it up, the man’s hands come down on yours and hold them still. 

“Woah, hold on, w-what-what are you doing?” 

You stutter, not sure how to answer. 

“Uh…I was just gonna help you carry some of these. You walked here, right? Can’t be that far. Besides, it’s not like anyone else is gonna be coming in with this weather.”

He shakes his head vehemently, pulling the flower away from you. 

“No way, I-I got this-ss-s,” he insists with an admirable amount of confidence. 

You open your mouth to protest, but you’re too impressed by the display that follows to speak. You’re not sure how, but he manages to scoop everything up into his arms. You nearly jump over the counter just in case he falls. He’s like a tower of blocks struggling to keep its balance. 

By some miracle, he manages, and before you know it he’s headed to the door. You go to open it for him, but don’t get the chance. He lifts a boot and hooks it under the horizontal door handle to pull it open. You hold it open for him, but only really to feign helpfulness as he sprints out into the rain. 

“Have a good day!” you call, and he gives a reply you can’t understand through the rain. He quickly disappears into the gloom. 

You step back inside, alone in your shop once more.  

“…Nice guy,” you mutter to yourself. You turn to head back to your counter, but something catches your eye: 

His windbreaker is still hanging on the rack! 

Frantically pulling it from the hook, you rush out into the rain without thinking. You call out to nothing as you run in the direction you think he went, realizing you never got his name. There’s no sound but the rain on the concrete. 

You slow to a stop when it becomes clear your efforts are for naught.  

You look down at the jacket, watching as the rain rolls off of it. Briefly, you debate still running after him, but think better of it. Even if you did find him, he’d probably be weirded out that a stranger chased him down over a windbreaker. 

Well, you can’t stand in the rain forever. You sigh as you turn back around to head back to the shop. 

Surely, he’ll be back…right?

This is not fully proofread, please let me know if you see any errors. 

Feedback is appreciated and encouraged. 

If you liked this fic, please reblog! It’s free, takes two seconds, and it’s a great way to support writers.

[ahoysteviex]

WRITING COMMISSIONS OPEN‼️IN FINANCIAL DISTRESS

Hello everyone. I'm opening writing commissions because I am in dire financial distress right now. PLEASE consider hiring me or donating to me right now. My family NEEDS help.

MY SITUATION:

I am currently living with my family and we are living with relatives. My father has been nonstop searching for work and getting nothing in return. He will get interviewed sometimes and despite being more than qualified and the interview going well, he won't get the job. My mother is disabled and can only work part time but has also not had any luck getting part time work. I have a younger sister who has to be taken out of school and put into online school because we cannot afford gas to drive her to and from school every day. My mother just got discharged from the hospital two days ago after having surgery to have her thyroid removed because she had thyroid cancer. She's an amputee and cannot afford the supplies for her prosthesis. We have a phone bill to pay as well as a storage unit payment for a unit with all of our stuff in it that we'll lose if we cannot make the payment.

To make matters worse, my maternal grandparents are evil people (I can make a separate post explaining this situation further if need be) and had it out for my parents for months. They are emotionally and mentally abusive and manipulative people. Last month, they started a loud, heated argument, as is typical for them. It was relatively short, but eventually my father leaned over and slammed the bedroom door. Honestly, "slammed" even feels like a stretch. But my grandparents called the police and lied to them by saying my dad slammed my grandfather's hand in the door. The police arrested my dad over this despite there being little to no physical evidence and my mother, sister, and I all testifying that it was not true. This happened the weekend before Christmas. My great uncle was able to call in a friend and get my dad released from jail, but he's going to have to sign bonds papers tomorrow and we do not have the $350 they're asking for, so my father may be detained again. He is just getting his foot in the door at Wal-Mart and is waiting on them to call him to finish his onboarding process and this is throwing a wrench into all that.

We're trying desperately to get on our feet. We want to move in to a place of our own. But it's just one misfortune after another. We need money to pay for my mom's medical expenses, our storage unit, our phone service/Internet, gas, and now legal expenses to keep my dad with us. And that doesn't even touch on the car trouble.

MY WRITING:

These commissions are a desperate attempt to help myself and my family, as writing is my only real skill.

I have experience writing for OR would be able to write for the following fandoms:

Stranger Things

Arcane

Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Scream (1994)

Apex Legends

Overwatch

God of War (4 & 5)

Baulder's Gate 3

Dead by Daylight

Cyberpunk 2077

Disco Elysium

My Chemical Romance

Panic! at the Disco

Fall Out Boy

One Direction

I'm proficient in romance, angst, fluff, domestic/familial, and NSFW. I'll write basically anything as long as it isn't a NSFW situation involving minors or animals. I'll write Canon Character x Canon Character, Original Character x Canon Character, and Reader Insert. I'll even do those little head-canon posts. Anything, I just need commissions.

You can find examples of my work on Ao3 here, or under my "my writing" tag here on Tumblr.

I will also beta read for you!

Here is my ko-fi.

Please use that to buy a commission from me! You can also donate there without buying a commission if you want to do that too. And if you aren't in a position to help financially, PLEASE reblog this post to get more eyeballs on it so that other people are given the opportunity to help me.

Thank you for reading. ❤️‍🔥

[graciedollie]

Could you please do a like fluff/angst, with Grayson. like the reader has seizure, and Grayson has calms her down. 😌

Difficult Days

Pair: Grayson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve been working yourself to the bone. Not giving yourself the decency of a break, not even a small 5 minute one. Your wife has consistently been telling you to take a break, but you didn’t listen—nothing new. But stress piling on stress, something amongst was brewing.

Warnings: Reader has seizures (ofc), mention of epilepsy, overall nothing too bad, slight use of Y/N

A/N: I hope this is to your liking anon, i had to do lots and lots of research on like seizures, but I hope this is somewhat realistic???

It was a pretty stressful for you. The morning started off somewhat shitty. You received your usual kisses from your beloved wife, but then came the water spilling on your work clothes, dropping every little thing in your grasp and not to mention the pounding migraine you were having.

Yeah, it definitely wasn’t your day…or your entire week.

You’ve been working back to back, nonstop. It was tiring, yeah, but you had to keep going. You don’t even know why you didn’t take a break, maybe you’re an overachiever or something in that range. Either way, you were running yourself ragged—and that did not go unnoticed by Grayson.

The sun peeked through the glass of the window, casting a soft glow across the kitchen tiles as Grayson sat at the table, cup of tea in one hand while she was reading the news in one with her reading glasses. You shuffled lazily out of the bedroom, obviously not looking the best as you settled by the table with her, leaning against her with a huff.

“Sweetheart.”

“No. Already know what you’re gonna say..”

Grayson sighed lowly, placing her stuff down to wrap her arms around you as she pulled you closer—planting a warm kiss to your forehead. She couldn’t help, but be worried. I mean, you’ve been working. Non. Stop. You were hardheaded and you knew, but you couldn’t stop—you had to keep busy. “All I’m saying is just to take a break…”

“I will later—“

“You keep saying that, but you never do.” Her voice was stern and raspy, giving you ‘that’ look—knowing she wasn’t dealing with your bullshit, but you weren’t exactly at the best at staying still. You both knew that.

You rolled your eyes at her comment, pushing off from her to grab your stuff (though they kept falling out of your grasp over and over again). Though she was right, you felt the need to keep working and just staying busy in general, but she wasn’t having it at all.

“For Christ’s sake, just stay home for one day, alright? Just one is all I ask.” She was starting to get fully fed up with your stubbornness, always testing her patience—as usual. You couldn’t help, but grumble as she continued to go on and on about you overworking yourself. You weren’t really listening until she said something that really caught you.

“You’re gonna trigger a seizure, Y/N.”

You tensed up as she brought that up. You couldn’t even count how many times you felt this weird ‘aura’ surround you, signaling the brewing process seizing amongst. It wasn’t easy at all, but Grayson helped you along—with her being cautious and very attentive to you whenever she felt that you were a bit off.

“Grayson, I’m not..”

“You are.”

She gave you a glare that was filled with sternness and determination, though with obvious concern for your wellbeing—as she always worried. You looked away as you grasped your things tightly in your hand before setting them down on the counter, “Fine…I’ll stay home for the day.”

She was a bit surprised that you agreed this early in, though she definitely wasn’t complaining at all about it. With a small grunt , she got up from her chair and pulled you into a warm hug while her face was buried in your neck. “You know I only worry because I care and love you, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Good…”

Words couldn’t even describe how relieved she was when you finally gave in and stayed at home, though that didn’t stop you. One way or another, you were going to find something to do.

You were hardheaded and you knew that, but you didn’t care, honestly.

Of course you said you would stay home, but you never said you’d stay still and take a break—you didn’t feel that you had to. So, with you being you, you were up moving about—buzzing around the house with stuff to do. Piles of paperwork, clients ringing in here and there, and other piling things. Yes, it was tiring, but you just couldn’t stop.

You were currently sitting at your desk, brows knitted firmly together as you filed out some paperwork. Your back was killing you, headache was a bitch, muscles were tensed, and you could feel a strange sensation just brewing in you.

Shit. She was right.

Your thoughts were drifting away, further and further. You felt your eyelids getting progressively heavier and heavier as the seconds went by—hell, you could barely focus. There was this…this sense of doom that just slowly blanketed you, making your body tense rather quickly. God you hated this.

Meanwhile for Grayson, she was in the living room, doing her usual things. It was going fine until she felt strange. It was quiet. Too quiet. She swiftly made her way into the bedroom, seeing how your chest heaved heavily as your breathing was unsteady and difficult—quickly moving to your side as she gently pulled you out the chair and onto the floor away from everything.

You, on the other hand, was going through pure hell. Your body felt as if it wasn’t yours, doom was falling over you, your eyes locked on whatever was in front of you—though you could barely even make out what it was sense your vision was blurring gradually until..

You just blacked out. Unconscious.

It felt weird. Aftermath of seizures always felt weird and just like a fever dream, but you couldn’t really remember. You were at your desk, working on something and then BOOM. You’re on your side, coughing and spitting up, tired as hell, feeling disoriented and just downright confused. But what you definitely noticed is that you weren’t alone. She was there right alongside you—just as she always been.

Grayson leaned over to grab some tissue to wipe the waste off your cheek and lips, looking at you with concern and worry. You sighed heavily as you finally turned over to shuffled over to her warmth, which she immediately wrapped her arms around you, “It happened, hm?”

You couldn’t really talk as your tongue was hurting badly, most likely from gnawing on it excessively. A simple nod was all she needed as your eyes fluttered shut, feeling your body tingle with soreness, and your brain clouded. Seizures weren’t fun at all, but at least you had her through every step.

Always through thick and thin.

I hope you enjoyed this and again, i’m sorry if it wasn’t too good at describing with seizures and i only hope you find it to your liking <3

[amourtoken]

Need to get a cramp in my leg from having it stretched over Luke's shoulder x

I've been thinking abt this nonstop for fucking days and it's ruining me I can't focus on anything I need to get done bc my brain is so full of thoughts abt getting bred by Luke

I have sm shit in the drafts for him so I'll treat u shortly with them 👀

[crowcryptid]

“Influencer” marketing die

[conspicuous-clown-car]

if somebody has already done this PLEASE tell me bc i would love to read/indulge in anything like this

but like,,

dca x reader fic where reader is a prince/princess and sun and moon are the royal jesters and it’s a forbidden love type deal

could end in their love being accepted, could end in them running away together, or a secret third thing!

i’ve also been picturing sun and moon as animatronics still, idk how that would work but it could!

basically the whole idea boils down to

[spaceratprodigy]

*gulp* deacon/iris "please just kiss me" intimacy ask........ NYE party- (i am shot)

@oldworldwidgets — [ intimacy prompts ]

It's in the stars, it's been written in the scars on our hearts

We're not broken, just bent, and we can learn to love again

pose reference

[duahauuoplanh]

[toestalucia]

(doesnt wanna open my multi) arent they so great

[rosicheeks]

.

[im2tired4usernames]

Ugh I was excited for today until I found out I'd have to spend it with people that actively make me hate being alive hate the future and drain me off all energy physically mentally spiritually like a vampire I can't stand to be around her she is the definition of stupidity and even then that's generous as fuck this bitch has filled her brain with so much garbage I watch her brain cells die at alarming rates every single time she uses her vocal cords her giggles make me want to jam a sewing needle into my ear repeatedly so I can never have to hear it again its a friendly reminder that my parents decisions this time my dad's constantly makes me want to die

[thenightisland]

everything that runs on electricity has refused to cooperate this week. the self check out machine shut down as i was scanning things bc its cameras became convinced that i was trying to rob walmart of a two dollar bag of instant mashed potatoes while i was scanning them. IT installed a new computer in my office that i did not want nor ask for and naturally it's horrible and i spent hours messing with it to make it tolerable again. the program i use all day every day for work has had server issues so just keeps crashing or refusing to start and IT's response is a shrug emoji. the new computer does not like my printer and the whole thing had to be reinstalled. one of my apps was glitchy on my phone and nothing worked so i uninstalled and reinstalled it only to discover that i made that account under an email address that no longer exists so i lost my account and had to rebuild from scratch. my own laptop decided to update and i wasn't fast enough on the postpone update button and so spent an entire evening undoing all the AI and bloatware nonsense it installed. the update also fucked up my audio drivers so i've been trying to fucking fix those all night. i am so close to spending the rest of the week just reading by candlelight to avoid anything that runs on electricity right now.

[haunted-glassesgurl]

Reading on public transport is the worst!!

I want to finish reading, I want the subway to take ages to arrive, the bus to be caught in traffic, I want to arrive late everywhere because I. CAN'T. STOP. READING.

(Merlin and Arthur are my demise)

[privatelife]

y'all who actually have partners,, what is a text ice breaker to start conversation? im really bad at it 😭

it feels important to note that when we do talk, the conversation flows great we have a nice rapport and complimentary senses of humors it's just starting the conversation that is the problem i think we are both just painfully shy 😔 (and maybe traumatized .)