#I'm not entirely happy with this in general but it's been in my wips for a while and I just wanted to get it done hnngh

[starwarjotta]

kissy codywan (I'm a bit late but this is absolutely for @dontbelasagnax's codywan kissing agenda)

[planchettewrites]

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)/AFAB!Reader

DESCRIPTION: You find out about Bella Donna Boudreaux, and you are not happy about it.

CONTENT: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Threats of Breakup, Mentions Remy's Past (*Using the Original X-Men Animation Series as Ref.)

A/N: This is not my favorite Remy work I've done, but I think it's still pretty good. This is pretty heavy hurt/comfort, and the ending is a little rushed. TBH I wanted to just write this and get it over with. WIPs can only have such a long shelf life! I may eventually update this later.

848 words | Safe!

"Remy…" You walked cautiously into your and Remy's shared bedroom in his apartment near the school, anger bubbling inside you. In your hand, you held a letter from some woman named Bella Donna Boudreaux. The letter was old, at least five years old. You found it while cleaning out one of Remy's closets, finding it in a box on the top shelf when it came tumbling out of the closet. "What is this?"

Remy, who was reading, immediately shot up. His black and red eyes looked at you with so much shock. He looked like a man who got caught. “Ma chérie,” he started.

"What is this, Remy?" you shot, effectively cutting him off. "Who the fuck is Bella Donna Boudreaux?"

"Chérie, it's not what you think." Remy stood up from the bed and began slowly approaching you. 

You weren't stupid; you could read what the letter said, and that letter painted a rather different story than your current reality. "I think it's exactly what I think, Remy. What the hell does 'I'll forever be your wife' mean, then? Remy, we've been dating for three years, and this letter is five years old. Are you married?" you roared, your anger almost unmanageable. 

Your mind was racing with every possible answer that Remy could've given you, and none of them were positive explanations. Your relationship with Remy was the best you ever had; he was kind, generous, and giving, and overall, he was a spectacular partner who always put your needs first. You loved Remy more than you could fathom; this letter was heartbreaking.

Before he could answer, you began to read some of the letter to him. "Remy, mon amour, I miss you every day. Every day you are gone is like a stab in the heart. I still remember the day I last saw you; you looked handsome as ever, mon cœur." you stopped reading the letter and threw it on the bed. "What the fuck is this?"

"Darlin', that's all old history, Bella Donna is…"

"Your wife, apparently, Remy." you began to tear up. Nothing shattered your heart like reading that letter did. You had read through the entire thing before you confronted your boyfriend, and you knew a love letter when you read one. You started shaking your head, putting your palm up to your forehead. "I can't fucking believe this."

Without even noticing, he got closer, Remy turned you around and gently pulled your hand from your head. His face portrayed an emotion of hurt. As much as you wanted to scream at him, tear him apart, something in you knew that he had some proper explaining to do. "Darlin', listen to me. Please."

You sighed roughly, continuing to shake your head. "Fine. You better have a great explanation for this, Remy. Or I'm done."

He sighs. Remy knew this day would come eventually—whether it be when filing for marriage paperwork or when his past eventually bubbled up to the surface. If he was honest with himself, he completely forgot about that letter; it was shoved in that box with the rest of his past in the Thieves's Guild. Looking at you, his heart was breaking. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you. 

"Well, darlin', it starts back in New Orleans. The long and the short of it is that Bella Donna Boudreaux was a member of the Assassin's Guild, and I was a member of the Thieves's Guild. We were arranged to be married in an attempt to unite the guilds. Gambit didn't love her, so he walked away from the altar. Bella Donna wrote me that letter as a last-ditch effort to get me back. I don't know how she even found my address, but she sent it. I forgot that I even kept it. I promise I didn't marry her, mon amour. I don't love her. My heart does not belong to another; it only belongs to you." He held you steady in front of him, and he watched how the tears forming in your eyes began to roll down your cheeks. 

Remy pulled you into a tight hug as you cried. "Shh, don't cry, chérie, Gambit's right here."

"Don't ever fucking scare me like that." you cried. Right now, you hated yourself. There was no way you could deny what you read, but you trusted your boyfriend with every word he said. Remy wasn't one to tell you a lie. Ever since you began dating, he has been nothing but honest and upfront with all that he said. "M’sorry, Remy. I'm really sorry."

Gently letting go of you, Remy cupped your cheeks and placed a kiss on your forehead. "No reason to apologize, mon amour. You were scared, and that situation seemed nasty. I understand."

"I was just so worried that you were keeping something from me, especially something that would change our relationship."

"I know, chérie, I know." He cooed, pulling you back into the hug. 

You sighed, letting the anxiety go. “Please forgive me.”

He smiled. “Gambit forgives ya’, chérie. Of course I do.”

[upsidedownsmore]

ENTRIES CLOSED, reblogs turned off, thank you everyone for entering and sharing your wonderful works!!

A compilation of every entry piece can be found here!

The winner is @mugbearerscorner and the information has been confirmed in DMs!!

Roll proof:

A link to the full spreadsheet of entries can be found here!

I'm so so grateful to all the people who participated in this event!! I'm so happy with how well it turned out and I'm so so thankful to be able to host it!!! Love you all!! :) :) :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

GAUSS PRIME ACCESS GIVEAWAY!

* Provided by Digital Extremes! Info about the prime access here.

To enter, simply reblog with your art of ANY warframe giving a thumbs up!

Giveaway entries will close on FEBRUARY 10TH at 10:00pm CST

The post for the above drawing (with reference screenshot and wips) can be found here.

MORE INFO UNDER THE READ LINE, PLEASE READ IT IF YOU WANT TO ENTER

Notes:

This is not a contest! The winner will be decided entirely randomly, image quality will have no effect on chances of winning! Make whatever you can in any medium you want! (This can also include 3D mediums! The only thing I'm not including is unedited game screenshots/captura, though edited might be okay). Everyone can draw regardless of how good you think your own skills are!

Please submit your own drawing(s)!! Only one is necessary but you can make more if you want of course! Do not use any AI generation tools for your entry.

When reblogging it might be a good idea to enter some text either in the post or in the tags! It turns out reblogs with just an image and nothing else might not show up under the original post, which means I might miss your submission!

Only one entry per person, you will not get more entries for additional reblogs and/or drawings.

The goal of this is for the community to have a fun little gallery of warframe thumb ups in the reblogs, but again don't stress over how "good" your drawing is! As long as you have fun and submit something vaguely in line with the prompt you're good! (such as a wave instead of a thumbs up or an operator instead of a warframe, etc. Up to you how closely you want to follow the prompt!)

You DO NOT need to engage with me in any other way (likes, follows, etc.) to enter, just a reblog with a drawing loosely following the prompt!

This giveaway will only run here on Tumblr due to issues with bots and impersonation on Twitter. The issue of course is that the only way to submit images under a single post on Tumblr is through reblogs, but please know that I do not intend this to be a means of promotion. If people could submit images in the replies I would gladly take that option! If this post gets taken down I will look into other giveaway options.

As this is my first giveaway as a Warframe creator please let me know if I've made any mistakes!

Here are some example drawings that would all work, but of course whatever you want to make shouldn't be limited to this!

Inspired by @ritens, I will be assigning one unique number per individual and then throwing them into the random number generator on random.org. After the entries close and I roll the winner, I will update this post with the winner's name and a message saying that the giveaway is closed. Reblogs will also be turned off once the giveaway is closed, as I am only using reblogs as means of congregating drawing submissions under one post during the giveaway period.

Whoever's number get's chosen will be contacted via DMs here on Tumblr, so please make sure your DMs are open! I will be asking for your Warframe IGN and platform so DE can give send over your prize! If you have cross-save linked or merged then please tell me, though I will also be asking in DMs as well. If the winner doesn't respond within 48 hours or no longer wants the prime access pack, then I will roll a new winner with the same method but with the previous winner(s) number(s) taken out of the pool.

Topmost drawing without giveaway text:

Anyways good luck and most importantly have fun!!

[iliadicjasontodd]

Hello! 👋 I just wanted to know what your Tim Drake WIP was about if you'd like to yap. You had some thoughts on his character in general and I'd be happy to hear them! What are the issues in canon and what nuances you'd like other people to consider. Thank you!

Hi!! I've been thinking about this ask for days I'm thrilled with it tbh!!

So, from my notes on the WIP, tentatively entitled too much will cause damage:

keep the basis. the wealth, the parents, the genius intellect and the thrusting himself into the role of robin. he thinks little of it. jason in his memory is an unobtrusive, quiet, and mostly unremarkable- if disruptive due to others’ reactions to his class and race- when they crossed into each others’ vicinity in high society and in school, and jason served his purpose until he’d clearly fumbled and outlived it. because robin is a job and a role and tim simply believes he can fill it best. Bruce never entirely forgives this trespass and it weighs over their relationship and, assuming steph and cass and damian still come in in this verse, does colour his ability to trust that jason’s worth is not somehow being degraded by their presence and his ability to trust that he himself does not actually view children as somehow fulfilling a utilitarian role. anyway, tim is driven by a belief in his own self-worth and invulnerability and a fundamental desire to exercise that self-worth in order to mold what he can of the time he lives in in his own image; he has a gd complex, in other words. he wants to be robin because he desires more strength- he desires to be chosen (and so he will never truly be satisfied with having taken the role himself, even if he does get satisfaction from taking and winning things). i enjoy the idea of this cold and irritating and mostly uncompassionate child putting himself in a position that eventually does push him to gain a desire for selflessness, and a desire to not be the best but to be good, even though it never comes naturally to him. he learns from bruce, he learns from dick, and he learns from jason, who, while not literally, does haunt him throughout his robin run as tim learns about him in bits and pieces, at first on accident, and later on purpose. i would keep his mission to find bruce and his altercation with the league of assassins but just have him be absolutely bodied. just fucking destroyed, trying to fix something he doesn’t fix anyway: bruce comes back on his own, and in the course of this he learns the real manner of jason’s death, learns the fact that jason did not die from mistakes tim is simply better than him for not making, and when steph “dies” in part due to bruce and tim’s treatment of her, most of his beliefs about himself crumble under the weight of all of this, and he is forced to build himself back up, but he is never going to be the naturally nice, hopeful, altruistic Robin through his nature. so he puts in the effort to discard as much of himself to fit the role he so naïvely took, believing it was suited for him, that it was his when it wasn’t, but he made a commitment. basically, i want him to be a tragic figure. he will lose little externally- his parents won’t die, he gets the job of his dreams, friends and status- but internally he won’t be at all unscathed or unchanged. i want him striving for this very imperfect goodness, faltering, and then trying again anyway. i want a statement in inherited wealth and main character syndrome, and on the choice to be compassionate and selfless when that does not come easily and must be chosen again and again. i want him cold and egocentric and entitled enough that when he feels guilt, true guilt, it’s nearly, nearly a novel feeling, and it changes him. I want him to have come from a place of devaluing and stepping over the still-warm corpse of a dead boy and i want that to haunt his entire narrative inescapably like an original sin.

Very long. But basically the idea behind this was, for me, turning Tim into something that could be, for me, and for many of the people I know who take issue with him as he is, satisfactory. The goal is to span his Robin days through Jason's revival and Bruce's 'death'. I'm aware he will not fully or even very much resemble the canon Tim Drake because the idea is to take the groundwork and adjust. Because, tbh, the groundwork lain is something that I could find really interesting, but the way he is written and his existence in and of itself is something I find difficult to swallow.

under the cut because I got caught up in the joy of talking shit about Tim Drake:

You asked about my issues with Tim in canon and I have panels from his Robin run that I criticised him for in DMs and other panels saved here and there that I might reblog this and add later but it's almost 2 am now and I have class in like 8 hours, so for now we'll take my word. Basically, Tim was created to be the quintessential perfect unproblematic Robin after Jason was killed basically for-- existing while poor. For having poor parents, for coming from a poor area of Gotham, for having been homeless, for being traumatised by any of this. But not Tim, no. Tim can be equal to Bruce, of course, in a way Jason never could! Tim is everything Robin should be- he is wealthy, and he is white, and he has normal high school problems. Never mind that he cannot pack his own bag, that he has beef with an eleven year old, that he will eventually steal Jason's mantle- not Robin, but Red Robin. He's the best Robin! Tim is a genius and he is a disciplined hero and he goes to beat up Asian people in Paris.

I will admit, a lot of my annoyance with tim stems from his fanon interpretation, which betrays a lot of misogyny and classism, ableism and racism in the fandom, which obviously shouldn't be a surprise. But yeah, in short- in fanon, he often replaces Barbara as a coder or technological genius or genius point blank, often replaces Jason as having experienced homelessness, food insecurity, and even death or torture at the Joker's hands; the amount of fanfiction I have read in which some form of the phrase "Jason suffered, but Tim had it so much worse," has been unironically uttered- often by Jason himself!-in some fucked up trauma olympics that everyone will bend over backwards to have their favourite rich boy win somehow even though no one else was really trying to play is ludicrous. In these cases, Barbara's own Joker-related trauma is hardly ever even brought up. In every case, Jason must repent endlessly for the unforgivable sin- not of murder and desecration and attempted patricide or any of that, no, but of kind of beating up his sort-of brother that's like a year and a half younger than him at most. Tim was neglected, no one loved him, he is neurodivergent and a minor. He is a little helpless child with glass bones and paper skin.

Basically, I think Tim is a deeply flawed character who actually starts from a point in the narrative rich in potential: Bruce has just lost his son, Gotham is going darker by the issue, and the Batman symbol is more haunted than ever, and Robin is never meant to fly again- after all, it's difficult to use wings six feet under. Tim is positioned as different from Jason in every way, which canon used to turn him into some prejudiced cardboard cutout teenaged hero but could be used to make him effectively an extremely particular boy who, for all intents and purposes, is still rather singular to this moment, and could be used to examine being Robin and growing up through an entirely novel (to Batman, at this time) angle. Blood had to be spilled to make space for Tim in the story; I just want to see what happens if I take that and run with it.

[fountainpenguin]

So I was rereading your lore on witches in your riddledeep au and um.

Would this technically make Dev a witch??? lol. He also freebies a pizza across a digital title card that episode too.

😂 Y'know, it's funny you say that because for the past month, I've been wondering if anyone was going to ask me if Dale or Dev are witches. I don't know why I was wondering that, but it's been clinging to me. I couldn't think of a way to bring up "btw, they're not witches in my work" without it feeling weird.

My witch lore for context

Dale and Dev can specifically not be witches under my lore even if I wanted them to be, even if I were following a headcanon where the Dimmadomes get around the XYZ chromosome sterility through clones, because of something extremely specific that also exists in my lore that I cannot go back on.

Magic Colors

So, I have a whole magic system set up around the colors of magic. There are 6 possible colors in the OG series- 5 of which are represented on the Rainbow Bridge, 4 of which are represented on the Fairy Council, and 2 of which are extremely rare.

I gave the Fairy Elder (namedropped in "Timmy's Secret Wish") yellow robes, thus tying the Fairy Council together.

Each magic color has a meaning associated with the mood or thought pattern behind magic use. I drew my original inspiration from the colors Timmy's brain turns when Poof's controlling his body in "He Poofs, He Scores."

For those interested, my Colors of Magic post (From May 2016, but has screenshots) & my worldbuilding sideblog's post on magic colors (Cleaned-up lore with no pictures). Short version below:

Red is an extremely uncommon magic color, though we see it when Foop is fighting Cosmo and Wanda in "Playdate of Doom" and when Wanda jumpstarts Timmy's heart in "Yoo-Doo." It's the color I associate with life and death magic. So, y'know... Foop is very okay.

There's also indigo (used by Juandissimo in "Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary"), which I consider a subset of blue.

Green is also extremely rare. Notably, it's the color Foop's magic slowly starts to turn throughout "Scary Godcouple"- He started off with blue, but sours to green in one of the only appearances we see of green in the entire series.

But you know what commonplace color we don't see?

Orange.

In my lore, orange-haired magic users (both Fae and genies) are the equivalent of shiny Pokémon. Even two orange magic-users don't normally have orange offspring- They produce yellows and reds.

And the thing is... I've already set up Happy Peppy Gary to be the only orange witch in my lore. In fact, I have a WIP multi-chapter 'fic about Gary getting discovered by H.P. and Anti-Cosmo, who lose their minds when they realize what he is (Pink and Gray).

Shout-out to one of my favorite dialogue exchanges I've ever written, from H.P. trying to sus Gary out as genie-descended:

H.P. brought his hand up to fiddle with his glasses. "Okay. Completely random get-to-know-you question. By any chance, are you afraid of small spaces?" "Deathly. Why?"

And Dale is Gary's age - in the same city where the Pixies dropped Gary and Betty after taking them in - which means if he WAS an orange witch, he would've been clocked so hard, so fast. Also, since I'm going the route of H.P. being Dale's godfather, there's no way he wouldn't have noticed even though Dale was MIA for years.

Fun Fact! Gary and Juandissimo are "related!" Juandissimo was finger-snapped into existence by Gary's ancestor, Crimsona. He's arguably a great-great-great-great uncle (5 generations up from Gary). In Cloudlands AU, Gary's middle name is actually Juandissimo! That's because Juandissimo's been assigned to godparent to this family several times (We met Gary's dad and grandmother, Quincy and Eunice, in Baby, You're a Rich Man; Sanderson matches Eunice's name to Juandissimo's in Chapter 10 while looking through godkid files).

Anyway, I COULD have witch genes passed down through Dev's mom's side of the family (Leadlys in my headcanon), but that comes with its own issues: if Leadly had XYZ chromosomes, he can't have Hadley, and I'm not going back on that. I could make his wife a witch, but that STILL has issues.

In my 'fics I play Ed Leadly as a guy who's looking for magical creatures (hence him being willing to drop 17 million dollars on someone else's dog in "Dog Gone"). I have literally shown him onscreen holding a witch-detecting compass that points to Gary (in "Opportunity"). There is no way he would not have clocked his ex as a witch, sldkfj...

Closing Comments

Dale and Dev are some of the only characters in my universe who are absolutely confirmed to not be witches, despite how much I have actually wondered if it would be fun to portray them as such.

I don't have a lore reason for the visual gags in that episode- I sadly have to clock it up to random cartoon silliness akin to Jenkins exploding into pieces when Jasmine sings in "Fly" (or Hazel also falling apart or exploding when people expressed crushes on her in "Multiverse of Jenkins").

In my lore, I actually do have Gary set up to be able to pass his witch powers to people he kisses (Because I thought it would be funny if that's why Betty is taller in some scenes than others; yes, I am that pedantic and it makes Betty's "But I don't like you like that" line exponentially funnier), but I've established that only genie-descended witches can pass powers... That doesn't make sense for Dev in this episode either.

Technically all the fluids can pass magic, so a blood transfusion would make Dev "a permanent false witch" if I wanted to do that, but I'm not gonna bother when again, we have people exploding in this show as a gag. Cursed gags I cannot touch with lore 😔

If anyone else makes the Dimmadomes witches, I'd be totally down to read that. I think it would be extremely funny if Dale Dimm was also a witch despite sentencing Alden Bitterroot to 350+ years of clawing his way out of Dimmsdale's well for witch crimes, but my AUs have pretty firmly locked Dale and Dev out of that option.

Riddleverse Design Facts

Here's another fun fact for any new followers who don't know I do this: I draw witches with spirals in their hair! Pics under the cut due to length:

Crocker has his in the back and Kevin has his on top!

You could TOTALLY make an argument that Leadly's spiral is in his mustache

Also, it's a very good thing I do this- I joked in the past that Gary and Dev look eerily similar (even sharing lots of body language), so it's nice to have things like freckles and a hair spiral I can fall back on.

I'm VERY happy with my adult Dev design, but I definitely kept freckles and hair spirals away from him, haha. Sneak peek of him next to his mom:

Note- Spiral headcanon excludes H.P., who has a unique family cowlick I gave him before doing this for witches. Poof doesn't count either since he's under Fae Get Alphabet Hair rules:

Whistle and Anti-Whistle [Soren] (at the bottom) are some of my favorite designs... I can't get over his upside-down W hair sldkfj.

But Wanda and Anti-Wanda having completely different Ws is another favorite thing. I'm especially proud of Dusty's little D tuft.

I'm not sure why Smoky ended up with what looks like an F (unless it's a T since he was Talon before Talon was Talon), but I remember doing a lot of designs for him. Sometimes I don't commit to alphabet hair if letters are hard (Soren's top zigzag is meant to be an S, which is a very hard letter to incorporate, and I think I didn't want Smoky and Soren to have the same one). I've been wanting to redesign Smoky a bit, so I'll probably fix it then.

Goldie's is subtle and you can see it better in some drawings than others, but she has M hair because her full name is Marigold :)

I should probably re-add her middle tuft to her official sideblog art, whoops.

Also, if this is how someone is finding out Poof and Foop literally were designed with alphabet hair, I have wonderful news for you. Fun fact, the "Anti-Poof" storyboard portrays Foop with a square spiral instead! It was the final detail of his design.

[loneamaryllis]

Snarriet rec list - Small fics (under 30k)

Where Do We Go (When It's All Over)

by orphan_account. Rated E. 4k. Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Pregnancy Kink.

Their bond is a complicated thing that knots up in a shared understanding of the two men that had influenced their lives.

One dead by his hands, the other by hers.

-

Or: Harry learns of Snape's survival, chases him down and twists them up into something else entirely even as Snape does his best to show her that there's nothing worth wanting.

Why I rec it: Hot smut, an annoyed Snape who can't fight his attraction to Harry, and great banter while they're fucking.

Sharing my heart, it's tearing me apart

by @pensieveprose. Rated E. 9K, WIP. (Underage) Creature Severus Snape, Soul Bond, Mind Link.

A mistake during a summoning ritual results in a soul bond between Harrie and Severus.

As Harrie and Severus tries to navigate being bonded and hiding it from everyone else, they realize the most crucial thing. They may be able to hide the bond from others, but hiding secrets from your bond mate is destined to end in disaster.

Why I rec it: The concept is great! Harrie binding Snape to her in a botched ritual... now they have to live with the consequences. Bonus points for the image of Snape with horns.

Untamed

by sheswayout. Not rated. 4k. Smut, Bearded!Snape.

In which Harrie attends the ministry gala and Snape is set to receive an Order of Merlin. Oh and Ginny made a bet or two.

Why I rec it: Nice little oneshot with some gala glitter and sex on a desk.

Mistletoe

by spicedlantern. Rated M. 8k. Mutual Pining, Stubborn Snape, Weaponized Mistletoe (sort of).

The seventh year Slytherins just want their Head of House to be happy. Severus must live with the consequences of their actions.

Why I rec it: It's such a fun fic! Snape growing increasingly frustrated with his problem while the solution is right there...

Stone Rolling

by spicedlantern. Rated M. 16k. Succubus, Jealousy, Pining.

Inevitably, the unstoppable force will meet the immovable object.

Or: Severus Snape is in some of the deepest denial possible, but a good succubus will expose the truth of any man, even those most stubborn and secretive.

Why I rec it: Severus being confronted with a succubus taking Harriet's form to seduce him and him going 'well there's been a mistake, I don't want Harriet Potter in any way, shape or form, no, never in a million years' is just. chef's kiss.

Fortunate Misfortune

by @hirukochan. Rated E. 6k. (Underage) Dubious Consent, Fuck or Die, Harrie touching things she shouldn't.

Harrie gets into contact with a nasty lust potion in Snape's potion lab while snooping. Because she is a virgin she would die without Snape's intervention.

Why I rec it: Fuck or die Snarriet! Bratty Harriet arguing with Snape's while he's fucking her :D

Snape's cat

by @loneamaryllis. Rated E. 29k. Cat Animagus Harrie, Fluff, Secrets.

Harrie's Animagus form is a cat. Snape happens to like cats.

Or: the fic where an 'Accio cat' starts everything.

Why I rec it: It's a self-rec so I'm being a bit selfish here. I like the fluffy moments, the way Snape lowers his guard around Harrie when she's a cat, and Harrie as a cat in general.

Open Book

by spicedlantern. Rated M. 18k. Mind Reading, Humor, Sex in a closet.

On the Monday of the final week of the final term of her Hogwarts career, Harriet Potter is cursed in a corridor by Pansy Parkinson. The curse seemingly fails.

By Wednesday morning of that same week, Severus Snape is certain he's gone quite mad.

Why I rec it: Snape losing his mind because he can hear Harriet's thoughts while she's thirsting after him! It's hilarious, and the smut scene is sizzling hot.

Siren's Song

by @loneamaryllis. Rated E. 19k. Siren Harriet Potter, Stoic Snape, Bathtub Sex.

"Everyone loves you," Snape had once told her with a bitter sneer. What happens when it becomes true in a very literal sense?

Why I rec it: another self-rec. I loved the idea of Harriet making everyone fall in love with her unwittingly, except Snape who isn't affected by her siren power.

[bethpencilart]

Have some sketches I made the last couple of months since discovering Moral Orel

I did some doodles before this to learn how to draw Orel and this was my first attempt at drawing him in my style. I also drew Christina.

I love Stephanie, so I made a page dedicated to her. The flag is supposed to be the lesbian flag. I decided that I should also draw some of the other adult characters. From left to right: Bloberta, Clay, Reverend Putty, Miss Censordoll, Principal Fakey, and Miss Sculptham. I had a theme with the right page, the adults of Moralton that should be role models for Orel but constantly let him down /lh

Adult Swim canceling this show is my Roman Empire. They really canceled it before the main character could go through his entire arc. I made these design mainly to work on something else, but I'm happy to have made them. I have definitely been inspired by other designs fans have made, but I did try to be original. Also made one for Christina! She's kinda inspired by pastel goth cause I imagine her parents are more strict and wouldn't let her wear traditional goth attire. She's probably already pushing the line.

Finally, some OCs I made. I'm sorry. First two are friends for Christina, I wanted to do something more then make a female Doughy and I had fun making them. The second is an OC I designed for a fic that is currently a wip. Yes, I did have a fun time creating the punny names.

Laika Lyukanida is Christina's childhood best friend. She is a second-generation Russian-American, her grandfather defected the USSR and moved to the US. I wrote that he was KGB, but I'm thinking that him being a spy makes more sense. I thought it would be funny for her to quote her grandfather sometimes and it being obvious that the quote was about his previous work, but neither her or Christina recognize it.

She is more resistant to Christina's chaotic plans, but she always finds herself working on them anyway. She has an interest in science and is often sneaking in the library against her family's wishes. As she grows older, she probably becomes more agnostic but keeps it a secret. Her first name is mainly a reference to the claymation studio, but I imagine in universe she was named after the dog that made it to space. Her last name is a reference to an old stop motion film from Russia.

Komugi Nendo Jingorō is Christina's friend who has a friendly rivalry on who's the better Christian. She is unfortunately very aware of how much her and her family are outcasts due to being Japanese in a mostly white protestant town. Christina and Laika are her closest friends due to them being more accepting of her. Laika understands what it's like for her name to be constantly mispronounced and relates to her. Christina's parents, much like Orel's, are racist and she has to keep their friendship a secret from them.

Her first and middle name is a reference to flour clay. It's a type of clay that children play with, and I thought it would be a cute name for a kid character. Her last name is both a reference to an old Japanese artist known for working with clay, and a reference to a stop motion short film that is about the same guy.

Will Plasticine is a gay florist in Christina's hometown. He grew up there, and when he turned 18, he ran away from his parents to go to college out of state. He met Stephanie there and they immediately became friends due to them being able to relate with growing up closeted in a very religious environment. She made one of her first tattoos on him, a pink triangle on his upper arm. He opened a shop in his hometown once he finished college, but he still has contact with Stephanie and sometimes they visit each other.

His first name isn't a pun or a reference, his last name is a reference to material used for claymation, especially earlier on. I thought it would be funny to make him a florist to Stephanie's tattoo artist, ie the florist and tattoo artist au thing. Obviously it's not romantic, they're just good friend. I imagine he has a story that parallels the episode, "The Blessed Union", where Christina hears a sermon about how wives should treat their husbands and she becomes curious on what husbands should do for their wives and she ends up in his shop.

[kiwiana-writes]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks to @daisymae-12 @anincompletelist @suseagull04 for the tags! I'm having A Bit Of A Week so I decided to jump back into a doc I've been struggling with for a while but really love, aka Anastasia AU my beloved, and smash out a few new words for it. I'd apologise for it being so bloody long buuuuuuut turns out I'm not actually sorry!

“Age progression AI,” Nora says, and Alex nods as though this means anything to him. “Someone’s built one that they’re claiming will, quote, ‘change the game’ when it comes to missing person’s cases, but they don’t give a single fuck about the privacy concerns or the data usage implications, so I’m trying to pull it apart and prove it’s janky. Can’t rely on capitalism to do the moral thing, but I sure can trust corporations to recognise a bad investment.” Alex hums in agreement, leaning over her shoulder. “Is it good, though? Ethical quandaries aside?” “Unfortunately, yeah.” Nora reaches for the Red Bull next to her laptop, taking a long swig. “But everything I’m feeding it is already public domain—celebrities and stuff—so it’s hard to differentiate true AI generation from it scanning and returning older photos of the same person. So now I’m looking at people the internet doesn’t have photos of past a certain age, seeing what it spits out.” “Like… dead children?” He winces. “Dark.” “Dead or missing.” She minimises the window full of code, bringing up a side-by-side of two pictures instead. “Prince Henry. Disappeared the night we dissolved the monarchy, almost definitely dead, but his family still— Alex, are you okay?” It’s only when Nora says his name that Alex realises his head is spinning; he sucks in a breath, and the immediate relief he feels makes it clear that he hadn’t done so for longer than is strictly advisable. He can’t tear his eyes away from the picture on the right: the sharp blue eyes, the soft-looking golden hair, the imperious set to his jaw that drove Alex crazy for an entire semester. “That’s— you’re fucking with me, right?” “Alex, babe. I love that your brain runs a million miles a minute, but in this particular case, I think you’ve left me behind.”  Alex turns to look at her. He’s known Nora for years—biblically and otherwise—and he likes to think he can read her well enough. If he’s right, she’s not fucking with him, and somehow that’s worse. “Nora,” he says slowly, “I know this guy.”

Forever feeling feral for whatever y'all are up to, so tags below the cut and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

@affectionatelyrs @celaestis1 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @dumbpeachjuice @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @hypnostheory @iboatedhere @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @lilythesilly @myheartalivewrites @nontoxic-writes @orchidscript @rmd-writes @roseapothecary @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland 

[smaller-comfort]

wip wsunday, 2 modern au fragments and a bit of devotional. I *want* to post bits of my sanguinalia thing but I caaaan't. >:xxxxxx

------

can't stop, won't stop (modern au, aephorul/resh'an, college/post-grad years; call it the sequel to gotta start somewhere. probably counts as a kinktober thing; the boys go toy shopping.)

Devotional isn't the silliest thing in my wips. it's this. this gets absurd. there are costumes involved. it starts off fairly innocuously, though.

--

"Let me buy you something fun for my birthday." Aephorul sat down on the couch beside Resh'an and set his laptop on the coffee table.

Resh'an squinted at him. "That's not how birthday gifts work. And I know I'm bad with dates, but I'm pretty sure your birthday isn't for another three months." He frowned. "...it's not, right?"

"It was yesterday," he said gravely. "You didn't even wish me happy birthday. I was completely devastated. Absolutely bereft. Abandoned by my boyfriend-"

"You are such an asshole." Resh'an elbowed him sharply.

Aephorul managed to keep a straight face for half a second longer, and then lost it. "Your face! Oh my god-" He tried to fend off Resh'an's elbow again, but Resh'an nailed him in the solar plexus. "Oof- fuck- ow- this is abuse- motherfucker-"

He wasn't really sure what it said about either of them that this kind of thing ended up being foreplay at least 75% of the time. Not that he was complaining- well, maybe he was complaining a little. Resh'an fought dirty and his elbows were sharp.

--------

staycation: monday (modern au, aephorul/resh'an petplay)

this one is also very silly. most of the modern au is in aephorul's pov, so it's an interesting exercise to write resh'an's viewpoint, particularly when aephorul is being submissive.

I feel like I'm missing the point of petplay with this entirely, but I'm having fun with it.

--

"Sure you don't want a spoonful of peanut butter?" he asked while he loaded the dishwasher. "Because I kind of do. Maybe some fruit? The grapes are still good."

"Grapes," Aephorul said icily, "are poisonous to dogs."

"You're so obnoxious." Resh'an smiled fondly. "It's almost like you want to be muzzled."

Aephorul stared down at the floor and didn't say anything. He was trying to hide behind his hair, to disguise the fact that he was blushing hard enough for it to visibly darken his cheeks. Aephorul was teetering on the edge, and it wasn't going to take much of a push to put him all the way under.

But Resh'an wasn't going to push; he didn't need to. Aephorul would get there just fine, all on his own.

------

devotional ch 4 (barma'thazel/elysan'darelle)

why yes, this story has snowballed out of control, why do you ask? this chapter is probably just going to devolve into some good old fashioned monster fucking. who knows, though, maybe somebody will get pegged.

aephorul sends barma'thazel a gift basket after chapter 2.

--

"This is the problem," she hissed. "You're a general, not some common prostitute."

"I am our Master's servant," he corrected. He ate one of the chocolates; they'd been enchanted to survive the ambient heat of this place, but it melted into velvety richness on his tongue. He closed his eyes and ate another one; it was as decadently delicious as the first, and it had some sort of crunchy center. Amazing.

"You really should try one of these." He held out the box. "It might put you in a better mood."

She looked almost like she wanted to fling them back in his face. "This- it's demeaning. You deserve- mmf!"

He popped one of the chocolates into her open mouth and tilted her chin up, forcing her lips closed. For all her skills with sorcery, Barma'thazël still moved faster than she could react.

Elysan'darelle's eyes widened with fury, and then scrunched shut as the taste of the chocolate hit her. Her hands flew to her mouth, but not before her tiny moan of pleasure escaped. When she opened her eyes again, she shoved Barma'thazel away from her and stamped a hoof in frustration.

[boosmidnighthour]

Uh, happy pride month, by the way! I wish I was a faster writer or just planned things in advance; I don't have any fics that celebrate the month.

Instead, have another WIP before the month ends.

Fandom: Ninjago Working Title: Possession/Disbelief (definitely needs a different name whenever I actually post it) Rating: General

◇◇◇

Cole sighed as he made it over the last ledge. It felt good to be solid again. The gravel and dirt felt almost heavenly against his scraped palms. He had missed it all too much. He should really take up rock climbing again-

“Ugh, finally!” Jay started from where he was with his dragon. “Y'know, I was supposed to tag along with you, not the other way around…”

“What? I had to climb the mountain properly this time. It felt almost disrespectful not to,” he argued with a roll of his eyes, lifting himself up the rest of the way and dusting his hands off. “Plus, now that I'm no longer a ghost, I have to treat my body right.”

“You nearly ate an entire cake as soon as Zane pulled it out of the oven.”

“Treating my body right includes indulging in my ignored sweet tooth. And it smelled delicious; if Zane had brought anything else out, I would've eaten it just the same. His cooking is near godly.”

“Whatever you say, man,” he huffed. Then he clapped to get them both back on track. “Anyway, you're here to see into your future. Get to it. It's getting dark, and when it gets dark, it gets cold. I'd prefer to be in bed after a nice hot meal before that happens-”

“With the fire master.”

“What?”

“You'd ‘prefer to be in bed after a nice hot meal’... with the fire master,” Cole snickered, watching as Jay's cheeks turned bright red. “That's a pretty important detail to skip over-”

“Stop stalling and go look before I drag you back down this mountain,” he growled irritably, petting at Wisp's snout. If the dragon hadn't been there, it wouldn't have been as threatening.

“Okay, okay. I'm moving.” So what if he was still a bit of a wuss around dragons?

Cole made his way to the entrance, more hesitantly than he would have liked to admit. The crack in the earth was daunting, looming over him as if to scare him off. He wondered if he actually wanted to know the answer. How far into the future would this take him? What if it was the day before he died? What if it didn't show any future for him at all? What if-

Okay, he had to stop before he thought himself into a trap.

After having paused, he continued forward into the tunnel, feeling along the walls to keep himself steady and to push through his growing nerves. Maybe this was a waste of time, but… now that he was human again, he wanted to see if it had changed at all. As the walls turned to ice and his breath began to fog, he saw the light of the sky reflecting back to him.

The labyrinth, while absolutely freezing and without much else to look at, had beautifully smooth ice. Even with the people that have come and gone, it was still spotless. When the light shone on it at just the right angle, the ice looked like crystals, sparkling like glitter. He tried to remember if Zane had commented on it the first time they'd come here.

Before he looked at himself on any of the walls, he took a deep breath. “Okay, ice… show me something new,” he whispered in the quiet of the cavern. Then he steeled himself and looked towards his reflection.

For a moment, it didn't show him anything, and his heart sank. Maybe this had been a waste of a trip… Then there was a wavering image of… someone walking towards him. It seemed like the ice couldn't decide what to show him, the image wavering indecisively, and it only made it more clear to him that he should take whatever this thing told him with a huge grain of salt.

Finally, the image of this future Cole became clear, and it stood right before him. He looked… well, older, obviously. Maybe a good thirty or forty years ahead. He was nearly the spitting image of his father, which he didn't know how to feel about. A full beard had grown on his face, hair even longer in his bun than now, hairs growing gray with age. There were wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, his eyebags much more prominent, some smile lines at the corners of his mouth and nose. He looked happier than he ever had been.

Surprisingly, though, he wasn't wearing the ninja gi. Everyone else's reflections had, from what he could remember, but… why wasn't his? Instead, he wore some comfortable attire, looking as if he was enjoying a day off from work. He seemed to have gained a few scars, but they all looked rather old. His fit yet pudgy torso had thickened up a bit, but he still looked quite strong… did he still have his super strength? He couldn't tell. His hands looked even more calloused than they do now, though. He squinted more at his fingers, seeing something glint on one of them. He froze.

Was that… No, there's just no way. Who the hell would-

The Cole in his reflection turned away from him and gestured for someone to join him, and he suddenly felt like this was all too much. It was lying to him. He couldn't look away.

Zane made his way over to stand beside him, holding a small child in his arms, a teen walking just behind him. The nindroid was sporting a new skin, one as aged as he was. It was similar to how he had looked when they had first met, skin just as dark as he remembered. He still wore his ninja garbs, but he was also wearing a ring on his finger. There's no way Zane would wear a ring while still being a ninja; it was too easy to lose, it would be uncomfortable to wear while fighting, and if the press saw it, forget living any semblance of a peaceful life.

He couldn't help but yearn for such a lie.

There was no way any of this was real, but he wanted it to be. Maybe add a cat or two, and that would be the dream… No. No, no, no- it wasn't real! It was just the reflection telling him his dream life; it was just his brain projecting his hopes into the ice- none of that was possible. Not for him.

He tore himself away from the walls of ice and rushed out, his mind screaming at him to forget such scarring images.

◇◇◇

Only a snippet for y'all. I've gotten much farther on it than just this, but still have a long way to go. Yes, this has to do with that one episode where they saw their future in the ice or whatever. I haven't watched that episode (or that season) in a very long time, and I don't feel like going back to watch it, so we're gonna deal with some flawed memory and inaccuracy.

Yes, I did look up the dragon's names and ended up finding some fan-made ones.

Happy Pride Month!

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝? 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. | 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠

part three of do you feel my hand? it is there. | part one | part two | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

genre: veterinarian!minho (this includes a few of the skz members working in his clinic). client!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. strangers to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. minho is reader's vet. reader's childhood cat suddenly gets diagnosed with cancer, and she has to make a big decision about what to do. this fanfic includes heavy topics like: pet euthanasia, extreme loss/grief, depression, the problems with pet healthcare, and more. there will be some humor/fluff placed throughout, and also smut somewhere along the way. :))

18+ warnings: slight hints of masterbation. sexual fantasies.

word count: 4.2k

summary: dr. lee minho is known throughout your area as the city's hottest veterinarian, and he's also the very man that's been taking good care of your two cats for the past three years. but one day, you're thrown down a dark path of heartache when the cat that you've grown up with - nyx - is diagnosed with an acute form of bone cancer. burdened with the hardest decision of your entire life, you come at a crossroads of what to do. and throughout it all, minho is the single most person who continually stays by your side.

a/n: rewarding you guys with this update tonight as it's my birthday and i was feeling a little generous haha! 🥰 i am seriously SO overwhelmed by the positive response i've gotten on this little series of mine... it makes me incredibly happy to hear that a lot of you are enjoying this. i'm have about two-and-a-half draft chapters left to write to reach completion of this, and i'm excited for the big writing plans that i have in the future, so please look forward to that as well~ 💖

🐈‍⬛ - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

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. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

 The next six months passed in a blur of emotion and grief. Most days, it was hard to even force yourself out of bed. You just didn’t feel like doing anything - resulting in your dingy apartment growing filthy with uncleanliness. Boxes of takeout were sprawled across the kitchen counter, bottles of soju and wine - which you had been using to drown out your sorrows - were in every corner of the living room, and your bed was perpetually unmade. 

 You felt like you wore the same two outfits every single day - slacks and a blouse to work, and then baggy sweatpants and a hoodie as soon as you got home. But you couldn’t bring yourself to change - to clean, or to switch up your clothes. 

 It was even hard to eat. You felt nauseous most mornings, so you opted to skip breakfast and instead grab a quick snack at lunch which you forced down your dry throat. 

 Because fuck- was your throat dry. 

 It was mainly due to all of the crying, which would commence every time you would arrive home at night and walk into an apartment that was void of her. You saw Nyx in every corner, every surface of your place. The remnants of her life - of her memories - were hidden in the very fabric of your being and your grungy hovel that you called home. From the way that her food and water bowls were still right next to Taffy’s, how the comfy blanket she liked to curl up in was still positioned on the edge of your living room couch, and the box of her favorite treats that were still sitting atop your kitchen counter, opened long ago and left to grow stale from the chilly air. 

 Taffy was somewhat of a comfort, as she could no doubt sense your change in demeanor. Every time you’d break down into a fit of tears when you walked through your front door after a long, arduous day at work, she’d prance over to you and nuzzle her head into your folded-up legs. She’d lay beside you in bed late at night when the tears would finally stop falling but your heart squeezed and squeezed the life right out of you. 

 Because that’s what it felt like- 

 Like life was slipping right out of your hands, 

 From under your feet, you were slowly falling down that deep, dark hole. 

 But you just couldn’t seem to get yourself out of it, no matter how hard you tried. And try you did - as you forced yourself to go an entire week without breaking down. But then you saw an ad on tv that marketed a nearby cat cafe, and you ugly-cried for the next three days straight. 

 And through the worst of it all, you hated to ask for help. You knew that it was one of your biggest problems, the fact that you had a sort of inability to reach out to others when you needed a helping hand. 

 You all but shut down at work, resisting the invites of co-workers that were going to local clubs. You just sat down at your desk every day, forcing yourself to focus on your work before you could finally go home and sob the night away. 

 And the clinic- 

 Fuck, the clinic. 

 You hadn’t been back there since the day Nyx passed. 

 It just felt too depressing, to try and step foot in the place where she had been laid to rest. What once was a warm and comforting place now left a bitter taste in your mouth. You avoided the building at all costs, instead opting to walk side streets in case you ever needed to pass by it. 

 The pain was too real and raw for you to ever try visiting the clinic again, so you decided that you’d stop altogether and instead find a different place, that was just as close to your apartment but didn’t hold so many horrible memories for you. 

 After all, you’d probably die a slow death if something happened to Taffy because of your inability to take her to a vet. So at the six-month mark, you managed to find a nearby clinic that had relatively low prices. The veterinarian was nice enough, but she was quite serious and mainly only talked business with you. Thankfully, Taffy checked out in perfect health and the doctor recommended that you wait to bring her in until she hit her third birthday, which would be in about a year. 

 The doctor was amiable, but… 

Nothing like Dr. Lee. 

 And the thought of him was fresh in your mind the entire time that you visited the new clinic. The staff at Starry Skies also took up a lot of your focus, as you pondered on the gentleness they had all shown you during such a difficult time in your life. 

 But most of all, your previous local veterinarian kept stirring your heart the entire time that you sat in front of your new one. 

 And you couldn't help but compare her to him- 

 And how he’d always greet you with a warm smile and always laugh whenever you told him one of your stupid jokes. How he was so incredibly nice to everyone he came across, and how delicate he treated the animals at his clinic. But especially Nyx and Taffy… 

 He had had a special bond with your two cats, and you hated to take that away so suddenly. 

 However, the pain of going back there was just too much for you to endure. 

 So instead, you decided to work through your feelings about the old clinic - about Dr. Lee - and put everything to rest before you made a mistake that you knew you’d regret soon after… like dropping by the clinic late one night, unexpectedly. Like you had done that one time when Nyx had given you a big scare. 

 Even still, you caught yourself often pondering if he felt the same way… if he missed your presence at all, even a tiny bit. After all, you had been his client for over three years and had grown quite close throughout all of your visits. But the silence on his end was pretty blatant of his feelings on it all - that you were just another client who had lost touch with his services, and nothing more. Granted, the clinic’s front desk had tried to call you a few times after Nyx’s final day, but you had refused to answer any of the calls, and soon, they stopped altogether. 

 In the end, he was just your veterinarian. He wasn’t supposed to be anything else, anything more. The relationship there was supposed to remain stagnant and professional, no matter what. 

 So why, then, did you find it so hard to get over it all? 

 Your mind and heart were acting like the two of you had been dating for five fucking years. When in reality, you had only shared a platonic acquaintanceship for a few years because of your damn cats. It wasn’t like he thought of you any differently than before, nothing had changed… except for him calling you by your first name, and him touching you so many times and- 

 And yeah, 

 You’d admit that sometimes, after a long bout of successfully pushing him out of your thoughts, 

 You’d… treat yourself. 

 Late at night. 

 But only on very rare occasions… 

 When you were so exhausted from work and searching for a release, 

 When your fingers found that all-too-sensitive part of you, your mind drifting off to fantasizing about him. And what he’d feel like, doing such things to do. 

 Afterward, when you’d wake up the next day to face another grueling routine of mourning Nyx and work, you’d banish any pondering that you had about him, shoving all of that darkness into the very depths of your heart until you’d dredge them up again sometime later. 

 You continued to do such a routine for a long time, and slowly, as the months continued to pass, you realized that the pain… wasn’t so bad anymore. It was still there, and you still cried a few times a month about it. But it just didn’t feel as palpable and potent anymore. Things were different now, not like they had been right after Nyx's passing. It felt like a part of you was missing, and everything seemed a little bit darker. But you knew that with time, things would get better. You would keep Nyx's memory alive in my heart, and you would focus on the good times you shared. Life goes on, and you would do your best to honor Nyx's legacy by living your life to the fullest.

Gradually, you noticed a slight improvement in the mending of your heart. Piece by piece, you were putting it back together every day, by doing things that brought you joy. Recently, you picked up the hobby of cooking. And it felt good- to throw yourself into something that wasn’t work or chores or running errands. Already you had made a handful of dishes in your tiny apartment’s kitchen. Granted, they were nothing special and on the bland side of things, but you didn’t mind… it was, fun. And you liked seeing the finished product in the end. It was satisfying and made you feel proud of yourself, for the progress that you were making, little by little. 

 When you hit the one-year mark of Nyx being gone, you came to the sudden realization that in the wake of your grief, you had been ignoring your other cat, Taffy. And you began to notice how, after you’d arrive home from work, she’d no longer happily greet you at the door, and instead stay lounging on the living room's couch. 

 This opened a huge pit in your heart, as it pained you to acknowledge the fact that you had been so focused on Nyx and her leaving your side that you failed to see your other cat, who was suffering from loneliness. 

 Hence, you decided to take her to that nearby cat cafe that had recently opened up in your neighborhood. You had seen the ads for it on your tv, and you liked the idea of Taffy getting out of your small apartment and playing with other cats. She was a young thing, and quite rambunctious, so you were sure that she felt the absence of Nyx just as much as you.

 It wasn’t until Saturday rolled around that you were able to visit the new cafe, as that was one of your only days off from work. The place was quite busy for being so early in the morning, and as you stepped through the front doors, you were greeted with the cloying aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries. 

 The friendly-looking girl at the cash register welcomed you with a bright smile as you made your way up to the front counter. “Hi there! Welcome to Cats & Cupcakes! What can I get you this morning?” 

 You motioned to Taffy, who was quietly meowing in her carrier to be let out as soon as she glimpsed the other cats that were roaming around the area. She was such a social butterfly - quite the opposite of you. “Uhm- I brought my cat along with me, I hope that’s okay?” 

 The young girl’s smile only grew wider as she caught sight of Taffy. “Oh my gosh, yes! We always welcome a new kitty around here! Just make sure you keep an eye on her during your visit.” 

 “Okay, thanks… Taffy here really needs some social time with other cats,” you laughed nervously, as you bent down and unzipped her carrier. Immediately, she shot out of the small black thing, scurrying over to a few of her furry friends that were playing with a faux mouse just off to the right of you. You couldn’t help the wide grin that bloomed across your face at the sight of her lively personality coming out so quickly. 

 “Will you be ordering anything today?” The girl at the register asked you then, forcing your attention away from your cat and onto the menu board that was hung just above her head. 

 “Yeah- I’m going to have a… lemon meringue cupcake and an iced chamomile tea, please.” With it being so late in the spring, the weather was finally warm enough for you to start drinking cold beverages again, which was one of the few pleasures in your life. 

 In no time at all, you were picking up your order at the front counter and finding a nearby table that was tucked into the very corner of the cafe. As you settled into the comfy armchair, your eyes followed Taffy around the room, as she chased a grey-coated chubby Scottish Fold. 

 You sat back in your seat, taking a sip of your chamomile tea and basking in the sunlight that shone down on you through the window to your left. The cafe was relatively small but bustling with activity. It was decorated with bright colors of violets and yellows, which painted everything in a rather cheerful mood. And of course, the many cats roaming around also helped to add to the atmosphere of happiness. 

 As you studied your surroundings, your eyes landed on the figure of a man sitting in a chair similar to yours. He was by himself, his head turned downward, as he was immersed in a thick book. But he looked so… familiar. From the way that the light blue sweater he was wearing clung to his shoulders, to the way that his brown-rimmed glasses slipped down the sharp bridge of his nose, and the way that his raven-black locks were slightly tousled from the windy morning. A large white cat was lying across his lap, dozing happily as he stroked its back with a hand. The way that his slender fingers gently combed through the kitty's fur lit up a part of your heart with fuzzy warmth. 

 He looked like someone you knew well, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it…

 Just then, a young couple filed through the front doors of the cafe, the tiny bell jingling at the top of the door to signal their welcome. This serene noise prompted the man to peek up from his book and study the newcomers, his eyes landing on the sweet way that they were holding hands.

 And all at once, you completely froze in your place. 

 Spine going rigid, 

 Fingers clutching at your jeans, 

 Heart skipping over itself inside your chest. 

 Because holy fuck- there he was. 

 In all of his handsome, typical glory… 

 No wonder why you felt like you had recognized him. 

 Dr. Lee didn’t look any different from the last time you had seen him, which had already been over a year since Nyx had left your side on that fateful day. He still had that easiness about him, that gentle aura that radiated around him like a faint, glorious halo. 

 But before you could think about anything else, the fear was creeping up in your mind. About what he’d think of you, if he saw you here - at the cafe - after so long of ghosting him and his clinic, even after everything they had all done for you. You were scared that he’d be angry with you for not darkening the doorstep of Starry Skies ever since that past April. 

 And if you were honest, the sadness also played a role in your warring feelings. Seeing him reminded you of so many of your past emotions - of grief and depression and heartache. 

 Before you could do, or even think anything else, he was shifting in his chair again, his opaque, chestnut-brown eyes scanning the cafe around him lazily. 

 Then those expressive irises came across your face, jamming to a stop at the sight of you sitting there, all alone in the corner of the cafe. 

 And your heart sunk into the pit of your stomach. 

 From the way that remembrance automatically dawned on his face, 

 From the way that his eyes lightened in that way that you had been so used to before, 

 From the way that a slight grin cracked across his lips. 

 And suddenly, you couldn’t handle it anymore. 

 Not right then. 

 You didn’t want to face all of the sentiments of seeing him again - of having to talk to him, after everything that had happened in the past year.

 So in a hasty moment, you scooped up Taffy who had been playing near your feet, and gently put her in her carrier ignoring her meows of protest. Then all at once, you were shooting up from your seat and rushing out of the cafe, your shoulders brushing past a woman as she stepped in at the same time you were leaving.

 Since your apartment was fairly close to the cafe, you began to walk down the side street just outside of the restaurant, setting a quick pace. Ignoring the sounds of movement behind you. Trying to block out the sound of someone calling your name. 

 It wasn’t until you felt a hand clamp down on your forearm that you stopped in your tracks. With your back turned you could hear the distinct sound of heavy breathing. The air seemed to constrict and bend around you - shifting uncomfortably and turning irrevocably frigid at the oncoming dread that you expected to appear any second. 

 “Y/N.” 

 The way that he said your name- the way that it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly, compressed your heart in pain. Caused the blood to rush a little harder in your veins. Caused a zap of energy to coarse down the length of your spine, pooling deep in your belly. You felt everything at that moment - the painful heat of breath flowing from your form to the way that his touch against your covered arm burned like fire down to the very depths of your soul.

 “Why- why are you running away?” 

 And as much as you wanted to avoid the confrontation, as much as you didn’t want to talk to him again, you decided that there was no longer another option. Because he had you in his grasp, with his fingers pressing into your skin, stopping you right in your place. And as it would seem, it was quite impossible for you to ever try and fight him when he was clasping onto you so delicately.  

 “It’s… it’s too hard,” you began, voice quaking at the end of your words from the ache that squeezed at your heart. “Seeing you- it reminds me of everything.” You screwed your eyes shut, cringy inwardly at the confession.

 There was a few beats of silence then, and you wanted to turn around. At that moment, you wanted to see what he looked like as you spoke in that quiet, shaky tone of yours. You wanted to know what he was feeling, just by the way that his eyes would land on your face. 

 Then, he was speaking again, but this time, he was a lot quieter than before. “Is that why you stopped coming around?” 

 Coming around to the clinic. 

 Stopped visiting Starry Skies and using his services. 

 And yes- at the beginning, the reason for your absence was because of Nyx and your sorrow from losing her. But as the months stretched on, and you started to heal from the agony of her passing, you came to terms with the fact that it wasn’t just because of her.

 It was also the fact that upon your realization that you- 

 That you had feelings for Dr. Lee, 

 You were reminded of your lot in life, about your two opposite positions... that he was a rich doctor and you were just a poor woman barely scraping by with her 9-to-5 job. 

 Even still, that didn’t stop the feelings from bubbling up every time you randomly passed the clinic on your commute to run errands. That's why you decided to avoid it entirely after a while. 

 It was better that way- than trying to face and acknowledge the storm that had been brewing inside of you for so long, without you even realizing it was stirring in the first place. 

 You hadn’t noticed the warning signs until it was all too late, 

 And you were too head-over-heels for him. 

 For the man that was far too unreachable for you. 

“Yeah, that’s why.” You managed to lie, swallowing around the lump that was beginning to form in your throat. You clutched a little harder at the handle of Taffy’s carrier, and thankfully, she was quiet for the moment - she probably recognized the scent of him. Just like you did. 

 “Well, we all miss you at the clinic… the guys are always asking me when you’ll be back,” Dr. Lee started, still holding onto your arm. Like, if he let go, you’d disappear right before his eyes, never to be seen again. Like you had been doing for the past year. “I miss you… you were- one of my favorite clients.” 

 And there it was. 

 Your worst fear for why you never told him about your true feelings. 

 That he only thought of you as his client. 

 Simply a woman that came around every six months so that he could treat her cats. 

 Nothing more, and nothing less. 

 In an instant, you were suddenly glad that you hadn’t turned around - that he hadn’t forced you to. Because you didn’t want to see his face then. Not when he shoved you into the friend zone without even realizing it. Or maybe, he did realize it. Maybe, he had known about your feelings all along but had been ignoring them this whole time because he wanted to keep things professional. 

  Because he just didn’t feel the same way about you… 

 “Well, I should get going. Taffy here doesn’t like being cooped up in her carrier for too long.” 

 With that, you pulled your arm out of his hold. He hadn’t been gripping you harshly, so it was easy for you to release yourself. Almost like, he didn’t want to trap you at the moment. Like, if you didn’t like speaking to him, you’d easily be able to get away without any such fight having to be put up on your end. 

 As you took a few steps forward, Minho’s soothing voice graced your ears once more.“Y/N- wait.” This time, his tone was soft - possibly the gentlest you had ever heard it before. And it did something funny to your soul, caused a low-lit candle to burn in the chasms of your body. Like an ember that just couldn’t be put out. “I… we’re having a party at my place next Friday night to celebrate the clinic’s fourth anniversary of being open. It’s just gonna be me and the guys, and super chill and-”

 “I don’t know, Dr. Lee… I- I don’t want to invade your special time with your friends.” 

 “You wouldn’t be invading, Y/N.” 

 “Still- I just-”

 “Say you’ll come. Please.” 

 The slight desperation that dripped into his baritone caused a profound stir inside of you, igniting something dark and murky in the pit of your mind. It was confusing yet exhilarating all at once, as this high-caliber man practically begged you to come to his homey party. And yeah- it’d probably be awkward as fuck at first since you hadn’t seen everyone in so long. But… you were off of work, and… it was at his place. Which was somewhere you’d always been curious about, if you had to be honest with yourself. 

“Okay, okay- I’ll go.” You finally said, looking down at your feet to try and hide the smile that crept across your mouth at the thought of spending more time with him. Because even if it hurt you- even if he wasn’t the right one, maybe a single night of partying with him would quell the ache inside of you. Would douse the blaze that was alight in your very being just by the thought of him alone. 

 “Great, I’ll text you my address and the time to be there.” And you couldn’t help to notice how he sounded lighter than before - like he was happy to hear that you were coming. You, who had practically ghosted him and everyone else for the past year. You, who was broke beyond belief and barely surviving in the harsh world around you. 

 You held on a little tighter to Taffy’s carrier, feeling the creep of a smile on your lips at the thought of getting to see him again. At getting to face him, finally, without having your back turned in cowardliness. “Well… I’ll see you then, I guess.” 

 “Yeah, have a good night…” His words faded off into the distance, as you began to make the commute back to your quaint apartment. 

 The entire time you walked down the street, you could feel his eyes on you - practically searing two holes into your skin as he stared you down until you turned a corner and eventually grew out of his sight. 

 But it didn’t terrify you in the least bit, like how it usually did when a man looked at you so intently.

 Rather, it caused butterflies to erupt in the pit of your stomach, 

 Forced your heart to beat a little harder, 

 Urged you to walk a little faster, as you began to ponder on what the party would be like. 

 More importantly, you wondered what you were going to wear to it…  

To be continued...

taglist: want to be added onto my taglist? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can send me a msg and request to be added~

🌾 tags: @sleepyleeji :: @if-spearb :: @hyunes4ngel :: @drhsthl :: @seosalad :: @toomuchtellyneck :: @endzii23 :: @smally97 :: @ana-marais98

©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

[kale-theteaqueen]

Girl, I’m so happy about you writing for nesta week. I’m literally OBSESSED with all of your works. I would like to ask, if you have any snippets for to Pay a Debt for WIP Wednesday, it’s definitely one of my favorites nessian fanfics. Anyways, thank u for giving us the best of the best of what Nesta and Cassian truly deserve. You’re amazing 💗

I'm having so much fun this Nesta week!!!! I just started drafting the next debt chapter, so here's a tiny snippet:

WIP Wednesday

"What have you done?" Cassian snarled, siphons pulsing.

His voice was cold steel, deadly, and full of violent promise.

"What have I done?" Devlon countered, his own fury in his gaze. "Your mate put my family in danger."

The words boiled his blood, distorted his thinking. It didn't matter that this male had taught him everything he knew. It didn't matter that they were standing in Naomi's new cabin, nor that he would pay a high price for attacking the Lord of Windhaven. He was going to kill him-

"He's been here the whole time, General," Naomi said, voice cracking from her tears. "He would not betray me."

"So he claims."

Devlon's lip curled at the idea of such a crime, and Cassian's eyes tracked as the male angled his body in front of his sister, just so.

As if Cassian would ever-

"Enough," Rhys' voice called from the entry way. "It wasn't him."

Cassian turned his head, and the rage that gripped his entire conscience faltered, at the sight of his brother, and who he held in his arms.

"Mama!" Mellie cried, reaching out her arms.

Naomi let out a soft sound, desperate relief and fear wrapped into one, and moved around her brother to clutch her daughter to her chest.

"It wasn't him," Rhys repeated, holding Cassian's gaze, if only to keep him steady. "It was Iron Crest."

---

Stay tuned!!

[saintsenara]

I’m obsessed with your Percy/Rodolphus fic, so I just wanted to get some more of your thoughts on who you think the Lestrange brothers are/what they’re like. They’re often overlooked in this fandom but I personally love them. (PS your answer to my Frank/Rabastan question was amazing. Thank you!)

thank you so much, anon! this is a lovely ask and i'm so thrilled you've enjoyed subluxation.

i've been joking quite a lot while writing it that it’s tricked me into finding rodolphus and rabastan lestrange fascinating, having never cared about them before. but this is - it’s time to come clean - not strictly true... obviously, as a bellamort shipper, poor cuckolded roddy has had to take up some space in my brain, but also the family appears in quite a lot of my other writing and i have quite a lot of headcanon lore i appear to have ascribed to them…

most of this - unsurprisingly - surrounds the family’s relationship with voldemort. while the evidence of canon is that the malfoys are voldemort’s favourite accomplices - at least until lucius falls from grace after failing to retrieve the prophecy - i am much fonder of the idea that the lestranges are the dark lord’s most important death eaters and that the family has been in voldemort’s orbit since the second he arrived at hogwarts.

i do not - however - think that the lestrange originally ensnared is either rodolphus or rabastan. i know many people choose to interpret the mention in half-blood prince of a lestrange in the slug club alongside tom riddle as referring to rodolphus - and i do see the interesting things which can be done both with the idea of him as voldemort’s oldest friend [and, therefore, fully aware of his real name, appearance, and background, while his wife is not] and the idea of him as much older than bellatrix. but i much prefer the idea of voldemort having an impact which is distinct across three separate generations: you have the knights of walpurgis, who become the first death eaters, who know the proto-voldemort of the 1940s and 1950s, with all his messy human characteristics; then you have these men’s sons, who know the unassailable paramilitary kingpin of the 1970s, who seems to be a force of pure magic; then you have these men’s sons, who know the paranoid, monstrous voldemort of the 1990s and his single-minded obsession with harry potter. or, in other words, you have abraxas malfoy - then lucius malfoy - then draco malfoy, each trying to square the voldemort that’s in front of them with the voldemort they once knew.

hence my favourite original character: rodolphus and rabastan’s father, romulus augustulus lestrange. named for the last - and worst - roman emperor.

i am - as any good tomarry shipper - obsessed with the parallels between harry and voldemort, and i originally came up with romulus in order to provide voldemort with his very own ron weasley. the two meet on the hogwarts express when romulus sits in tom’s compartment, it’s romulus who acts as the insider to the magical world who helps tom adjust to his new life in the castle, and it’s romulus who convinces tom while they’re heading north that the only house worth being in is slytherin. i like him then remaining tom’s ride-or-die even through his teen edgelord days, his depressed retail-worker days, and his long sojourn on the continent.

[although readers of my tomarry wip one year in every ten will be aware that his relationship with the young voldemort is not entirely a happy one…]

i write rodolphus and rabastan as being born in 1949 and 1953 respectively and as having some sort of acquaintance with voldemort as children - indeed, one headcanon i use, if the story fits it, is that voldemort is both brothers’ godfather. this means that, when voldemort returns from albania in 1966, both are in their teens and - rodolphus especially - are all too susceptible to the revolutionary miracle voldemort is promising. i imagine that rodolphus - in conjunction with lucius malfoy - is the dark lord’s best recruiter of young pureblood men in the later 1960s and early 1970s, and that these men are much more interested in open violence than their fathers, who support voldemort as a political leader within the wizarding world’s established framework, rather than as a terrorist.

which means, of course, that i think that rodolphus is the person who recruits bellatrix.

while i like the potential of bellatrix and rodolphus’ canon vibe being caused by the gulf of a large age gap, i really like them as a clear illustration of the way in which pureblood society’s rigid gender roles stifle potential - and, therefore, think that they marry the second bellatrix finishes school, in an arranged marriage they both go through with because it’s what they think they ought to do [and i think that voldemort’s affair with her starts almost simultaneously - i think it’s important, when thinking about bellatrix’s radicalisation, that all the evidence of canon is that she’s groomed to be a terrorist when she’s barely out of her teens by a man old enough to be her father, and voldemort - who, when she’s 19, is 44 - being her only proper experience of a romantic or sexual relationship is quite a key part of that]. i am wedded to the idea that the marriage is profoundly unhappy - but not abusive or toxic - because neither bellatrix nor rodolphus really like each other - they get along cordially enough, but there’s no real passion or affection between them.

the only exception to this is their passion for voldemort and his terrorist organisation. the implication of canon is that bellatrix is the more zealous of the two - and that she is the ringleader of their attack on the longbottoms, while rodolphus and rabastan are just doing as they’re told - but i don’t buy it. i think rodolphus is a hardcore death eater, that he is entrusted with high-level missions throughout the 1970s, and that voldemort values him incredibly highly prior to 1996, when our evidence is that he’s also sent to azkaban having been caught in the department of mysteries alongside lucius malfoy.

[and one high-level thing i think he’s entrusted with is the knowledge of what - exactly - is in his vault…]

which means, i think, that he is probably slightly more disillusioned than bellatrix once he’s broken out of prison for a second time in july 1997. i am now convinced that the role he plays in subluxation - essentially pius thicknesse’s childminder - is one he agrees to because he thinks it’ll keep him safer than being at voldemort’s side as he grows more and more volatile - and i am also convinced [because, i hate to say, i’m a delphini truther] that he flees the battle of hogwarts the second harry springs out of hagrid’s arms and goes on the run with his dead wife and dead master’s lovechild.

rabastan - on the other hand - gets given up by lucius malfoy as part of his plea deal and shuffled off for life in azkaban.

indeed, i really like rabastan as… a bit of a flop. whereas i think rodolphus has a genuine capacity for sadism, i prefer rabastan in what we might call the draco malfoy vein - someone who is profoundly unpleasant and who believes wholeheartedly in blood-supremacy, but who doesn’t have the stomach to actually follow this through with violence. i like the idea of him as someone voldemort finds quite unimpressive, and i also like the idea that rodolphus - since awful people are never wholly awful, nor good ones wholly good - puts himself in considerable danger to protect his younger brother from the dark lord’s anger by fixing his mistakes and covering for his fuck-ups.

and i am now really, really into the concept of rabastan and frank longbottom!

the only other headcanons that i am absolutely set on when it comes to the lestranges are that their ancestral home is in brancaster, in norfolk [a very beautiful, but not not desolate place], and that romulus has a great love of flying horses which is passed down to both of his sons.

[rinachains]

OMFMFMFMFMDMFJF ONE OF MY FAVVVVVVVV CONCEPTS IS CANNIBALISM IN WRITING SO PLEASE KARINA TELL ME EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS WIP:

(i long to) tear you apart - no curses!au; small town setting; sukuna x cannibal!reader

THE FIC TITLE??? SMALL TOWN SETTINGS??? CANNIBAL!READER??? RAHHHHHH I’M ABOUT TO EAT THIS UP (NO PUN INTENDED) OKIE ILYSM LEGEND MWAHHHHHH <333 - @gothsuguru <333

so so happy that you asked about this one kairo, it's very dear to me bc i'm also a huuuge fan of cannibalism as a concept <3 (the way most of my sukuna drafts include cannibalism lmao, but he's just perfect for that)

generally, i want to portray cannibalism as a way of trying to keep someone, being afraid of losing them, done out of desperation, and idk if it makes sense, but I think once you read about reader's backstory in the finished fic it will make more sense

it's going to be a non-linear narrative, so with some flashbacks in between that show reader's backstory and how her cannibalism started, and also how her relationship with sukuna began and progressed

sukuna is actually going to be the 'normal' one here (more or less). i thought it would be interesting to make reader the fucked up one in this case, tho sukuna will still be sukuna yk

it will also focus on her relationships with the men in her life, like her father (with whom she has a very strained, distant relationship and who abandons her), her adoptive father (who ends up dying👀) and sukuna ofc

and she moves into this small town after some things happen in her home town (cannibalism😁)....and she meets sukuna who's been living there his entire life and wonders why someone, especially a young woman like her who'd usually be starting university or at least be trying to move into a big city, would suddenly move there

there are still some things i need to figure out, like what sukuna does and how he finds out about reader being a cannibalist...

it's going to be pretty gross and angsty, but also kind of sweet and romantic in its own way^^

I might even include some smut, not rlly sure about that tho👀

oh and I want it to have a southern gothic vibe yk

[regenderate-fic]

Let Me Spin and Excite You

Fandom: Doctor Who Ships: Fifteenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: Fifteenth Doctor, Rose Tyler Rating: General Word Count: 1,932 Other Tags: Reunions, Immortal Rose, Bad Wolf as Disability

Read on AO3

Summary: After years of looking for the Doctor, Rose meets a strange-but-familiar man at the club.

NOTES: i happened to finish this on esther's birthday so it's for him now. everyone say happy birthday @nounpolycule

anyway i have a ton of long wips that are going super slowly because of how grad school owns my entire soul now so this is my attempt to remind myself that i can write things that are short sometimes.

title from may i have this dance by francis and the lights. which has some of my favorite lyrics of any song and i'm forever mad at spotify for not telling me the version of it i first discovered is a cover (by meadowlark)

Rose leaned against the bar, drink in hand. 

The glass was full. Half an hour, and she hadn't even taken a sip. She'd meant to try and relax a bit, let loose, but it just wasn't happening. Her head hurt, her bones ached, and she felt the ever-present exhaustion hovering over her, threatening to take her out at the knees. 

Not to mention—ten years.

She'd been back in this universe for ten years. And she still hadn’t found the Doctor. 

She'd tried, of course. She'd looked for unusual happenings, bumps in the timeline, anything that might indicate the presence of a haphazardly landed time ship and its ridiculous occupant. She'd chased a million leads, ironed out as many of time’s odd little wrinkles as she could manage, followed timelines across millennia—running into the Doctor should've been inevitable, after all that. And yet she still hadn’t seen them. 

And now here she was, slumped against the wall, trying to convince herself that this was still the sort of thing she enjoyed. 

She sighed. Maybe it was time to go. She tipped what was left of her drink into her mouth and turned to leave. 

But just as she started for the door, a flurry of motion caught her eye. 

She disregarded it at first. It was coming from the dance floor, for goodness sake. Surely there was enough movement there to turn anyone’s head. But—no, this was an unexpected movement. Something out of time. 

Rose turned to look. 

Immediately, she was transfixed. 

The densely-packed crowd of dancers all but faded away around the dancer who'd caught her eye. 

Beautiful was the only word for him. He practically gleamed in the club lights—the sheen of sweat on his skin somehow made him more entrancing. He moved with a fluid ease, even as the moves themselves were unlike anything anyone else was doing. And there was something about him… Rose couldn't tear her eyes away. He just looked so joyful. 

Tears startled her at the corners of her eyes, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. She missed that sort of joy—that carefree movement, lost in a sea of people. 

To hell with it. One dance wouldn't kill her. Rose took a step towards the dance floor. 

Never mind. Maybe it would kill her, figuratively speaking. The bright lights and loud noises were doing nothing for her headache. Why had she come here again? She'd enjoyed nightclubs, once, but since then every cell in her body had surely changed, fallen away only to be wholly replaced. She could hardly expect to be the same person she was.

Still. It was nice to indulge the fantasy. 

The dancing man had his hands above his head, skirt fanning out as he twirled. As Rose watched, he came to a stop, and then—

Was he looking at her? 

Rose fiddled with the hem of her jacket. She probably looked out of place, in long pants and a full-on leather jacket, with barely any makeup. She hadn't minded, but now she'd been caught out, staring unabashedly at this man, and her usual armor wasn't quite right for the scenario.

The man stepped off the dance floor. He walked like he was still dancing, with graceful, deliberate steps. Rose forced her eyes to stay trained on the dance floor as he walked past her, presumably to the bar. 

She'd been standing for too long. If she wasn't going to leave the club, she needed to find a place to sit. She looked around. Most of the tables were completely full—but then she noticed a group of people getting up, and Rose hurried over to take their table before anyone else could claim it. She kept an idle eye on the dance floor. She wasn’t up for it now—but a hundred years ago, she would've been there, carefree and having the time of her life. 

There was movement in her periphery. She looked towards it only to see the man from earlier, now lowering himself into the chair next to her. He was holding two glasses. 

“This your drink?” he asked, offering one to her. 

Rose eyed him. “How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess.” He settled into the chair. “D’you come here a lot, then?”

Rose burst out laughing. “You're really opening with the oldest line in the book?”

“I didn't mean it like that.” He flashed a smile. “I'm not from around here. Don't know the scene.”

Rose hesitated. “It's not my usual haunt, no.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Where are you from, then?”

He waved a hand. “Here and there.”

“How specific.” Rose felt herself start to smile. “And, I have to ask. Why are you here?”

“What?”

Rose nodded at the dance floor. “You've got a whole club to talk to. What are you doing here?”

He pointed at her. “You were looking at me.”

“Can't imagine I'm the only one,” Rose said, and then she blushed. She hadn't meant to be flirting—but, well, why shouldn't she? It would be ludicrous to pretend she wasn't attracted. “Why me?”

“Why not you?” He raised his eyebrows. “Got a big old skeleton in your closet, have you?”

“I've barely got a closet,” Rose said, truthfully. She kept a small flat, but it wasn't really home to her. No need for closet space, not when she hadn't bought new clothes in four years. “No room for skeletons.”

“That's a shame.” The man grinned. “There's always under the bed, I suppose.”

The space under Rose’s bed was full of random bits of alien tech she hadn't gotten around to investigating. “Not my bed,” she said. “No room, what with all the doodads I've got.”

“That's a technical term, is it?” He was smiling. 

Rose smiled back. “Oh, yeah, definitely. I'm great with doodads.”

“How about thingamajigs?”

“Absolutely. One hundred percent. I'm there.” 

He and Rose grinned at each other, and suddenly Rose was sitting in a chippy just off the Powell Estate, her feet knocking against the Doctor’s as they laughed. 

She blinked. 

That feeling—the fizzy joy of an easy back-and-forth—it had been at least ten years since she’d felt that way. It was nearly alien to her now.

But… it was nice. And there was no harm in it, was there? If this frankly gorgeous man wanted to buy her a drink and have a bit of flirty banter—well, she wasn't exactly going to say no. 

The man gestured towards the dance floor with a flourish. “Would you like to dance?” 

Rose weighed her options. There was a reason she’d held back, before. But… this was different. Unwise as dancing may be, this man was very quickly beginning to seem worth the sacrifice.

“Yeah, all right,” she said. She smiled. “Show me your moves.”

The man’s face lit up. He held out a hand to Rose, and she took it, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. Before, when she was watching him, she’d felt like he reflected light outward, shining on the whole club, and now she shared in his glow, moving without care, lost in the light and sound, anchored entirely by this strange man’s hands at her waist. 

It was the most she’d been touched in years. She felt a bit intoxicated—or maybe that was the alcohol—a bit light-headed—or maybe she’d just been upright too long—a bit exhilarated—and there was no way to explain that away. 

The dance felt like it lasted forever, but both common sense and time sense told Rose it could've only been a few minutes before she started to feel out of breath. 

“You all right?” He had to yell in her ear to be heard. 

“Yeah, fine!” Rose hesitated. “D’you want to get out of here?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” His hand fit wonderfully around hers, and they stepped out onto the street together. The cool evening air was a welcome respite from the warm fervor of the club. Rose laughed to feel it on her face. 

“Where are we going?” she asked. 

The man gestured. “My place is just around the corner, if that's all right with you.”

Rose glanced at him. He was still grinning, still gorgeous, his face illuminated by the bright neon of the club’s sign. This night had been strange in the best way—she hardly objected to continuing it. “Lead the way, then.”

His grin grew, as if that was even possible, as if he had infinite capacity for joy. Together, they walked to the street corner—turned—

Rose felt it before she saw it. A rushing familiarity, a glorious sense of home, a giant weight lifted from her bones. She blinked. There it was: a wooden blue police box, innocently positioned in the center of a streetlight’s beam. 

The TARDIS. 

Her brain was short-circuiting. She'd stopped walking. She was staring. The TARDIS was here. The TARDIS was here, which meant the Doctor was here. The Doctor was—

She looked back at the man she was walking with. He was still grinning, his gaze fixed entirely, expectantly, on Rose. 

Rose gasped. Her body felt like it was on fire. She looked from him to the TARDIS—back to him—her lips parted—she breathed out—and on her breath there was a name. 

“Doctor?” 

The look in his eyes was so achingly tender she wanted to cry. When he said her name, it sounded the same as it always had—low, soft, with an echo of reverence. “Rose Tyler.”

She fell into him. Immediately, instinctively, his arms wrapped around her waist, and she closed her eyes. 

“Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”

She felt the vibrations in his chest when he laughed. 

“Thought it would be more fun if you figured it out for yourself. And I was right, if you were wondering.” 

He pulled back. His eyes met hers, and she stared, trying her hardest to take in the collection of features that made up this Doctor’s face. 

“Oh, I missed you,” he breathed. 

The words sank into Rose, settled into her bones.

“Not even going to ask how you got here,” he added. “Or how long it's been.”

“Dimension cannon,” Rose said. “And—hundred years?” 

“Oh! Because—”

“Bad wolf, yeah.” Rose grimaced. “Turns out looking into all of time has some side effects.”

“Oh, Rose, I'm so sorry. I should've known.”

Rose shook her head. “Water under the bridge. Don’t apologize for that.” She raised her eyebrows. “Apologize for being so bloody hard to find. Been looking for years, I have, and best I can manage is a chance encounter?”

“Ah, the TARDIS knew what she was doing, landing here.” 

“Typical. Blaming the TARDIS.” Rose scoffed. “Still haven’t forgotten about twelve months.”

“That was one time!” 

“Scotland? Queen Victoria? Where were we trying to go then?”

“Oi, I made it to Sheffield eventually—”

“Not with me you didn’t!”

Their eyes met, and suddenly they were both laughing, falling into each other, and the Doctor’s arm curled around Rose’s waist as he asked, “What do you say, then? Fancy a trip?”

Rose let her head fall against his side. “Fancy a good night’s sleep first.”

“Hey, I've got beds.”

Rose smiled. “I've missed that time machine of yours.”

“Just between you and me? I think she's missed you too.” The Doctor dropped his arm from Rose’s waist in favor of taking her hand, and as he entwined his fingers with hers, they stepped together in the direction of the TARDIS. 

[sundrop-writes]

Sunny's Post-Hiatus Fanfiction Schedule

So, I just finished another fic (but I am still in the living hell limbo of moving and I need the distraction) - and the 'Coming Soon' section of my pinned is getting way too long. So I'm gonna keep updating this post, and I'm gonna have this linked in my pinned as the general collection of my WIPs and things I have written during the hiatus. Also there will be more updates about WIPs and discussions about what I'm working on over on @tenpintsof-sundrop. And I will link the completed fics on this post when they are done and posted.

Again, if you want to see a preview for any fic that doesn't already have one, feel free to ask. When I get back from my hiatus officially, I will be posting a poll to determine which fic will be edited in order to be posted first, so when you read over this list, think of which fic you are looking forward to most so that you can have your answer. If you want to be tagged in any of these fics when they come out, info about taglists is right here.

Heaven’s Gate - Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader. Strangers to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Emotional Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Fluff. Set during Seasons 1-5. You and Daryl get seperated when the Prison falls, and both believe the other person to be dead. But you can't let go of the things your relationship taught you. Eventually, when you're reunited - it's like you never missed a moment apart. (17,100 words est.) - NOW POSTED

Untitled Daryl PWP - Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Set during Season 4. Daryl gets jealous, and takes it out on you. (2,300 words est.) - NOW POSTED

Some Kind Of Disaster - Gally (TMR) x Fem!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Emotional Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Smut. Set during The Death Cure. You had every reason to believe Gally was dead, so when a mysterious stranger pulls off his mask and reveals himself to be the one person you had been missing so badly - you are shocked. And then you show him just how badly you had been missing him. (6,800 words est.) - PREVIEW HERE

English Blood // American Heartache - Gally (TMR) x Fem!Reader x Newt (TMR). Established Monogamous Relationship to Polyamory. (Very slight) Emotional Angst and Smut. Set post Death Cure/Safe Haven Era. Newt Lives AU. (Sequel to the above fic.) When you get to the Safe Haven, you believe that you have everything you ever wanted, everything you ever needed. So why do you have a nagging feeling that something is missing? Turns out, that 'missing' thing was the addition of your best friend Newt to your bed, which your boyfriend Gally is more than happy to provide. (20,300 words est.)

Trouble Is - Thomas (TMR) x Fem!Reader. (Pining) Friends to Lovers. Smut/PWP. Sex Pollen. Set during The Scorch Trials. Just as the group finds safety outside of the Maze, you are separated off from everyone as the only girl, and not being able to see you slowly drives Thomas insane. Until one day, he's locked in a room with you - but there's nothing suspicious about that, right? (6,900 words est.) - PREVIEW HERE

BRAINWASHED - Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends/One-Sided Fantasies. Smut/PWP. Panty Stealing. Stiles has been in love with you for as long as he can remember, and since you both hit high school, that love has become perverted by hormones. But he can't help it. He also can't seem to help it when he steals a pair of your underwear that were seemingly laid out for him - but he can't get too caught up in the logistics when he has a hand around his cock. (6,900 words est.) - NOW POSTED

Stupid For You - Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends to Lovers. Smut/PWP. Sequel to the above fic. Stiles still has your underwear that he stole, and he accidentally drops them in the locker room - in front of the entire lacrosse team. He lies and says that he got them from a hook-up with you, and surprisingly - you cover for him? But only on the condition that you can turn his lie into the truth. (10,200 words est.)

Blood In The Water - Void!Stiles x Fem!Reader. (Pining) Best Friends to 'Lovers'. Pure Angst. Set during Season 3 (with flashbacks to Season 1). When Void takes control, you worry about the damage that he's inevitably doing to Stiles's body. So you make a deal with him - if he lets Stiles eat, then you'll feed Void with some of your pain. But it's not cuts or broken bones that he wants from you - it's your tears. (8,400 words est.) - FANFIC MOODBOARD HERE - NOW POSTED

Untitled Isaac Smut Blurb - Sub!Isaac Lahey x Dom!GN!Reader. Established FWB Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during Season 2. You tell Isaac that he needs to relax, and then you show him the perfect way to do just that. (2,100 words est.)  - NOW POSTED

Freak Like Me - Dom!Lydia Martin x Sub!GN!Reader. Established FWB Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during Season 2. Jackson may have broken up with Lydia, but his loss is absolutely your gain. (2,100 words est.)

Why Am I The One? - Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Smut. Set just post Season 3, Episode 4. After Issac is kicked out of Derek's apartment with no reasoning and nowhere to go, he comes through a rainstorm soaking wet and finds his way to you. Freezing, alone, and looking desperate and sad - will you turn him away after cheating on you, or will you forgive him like you always do? (13,000 words est.) - NOW POSTED