#Wip tag game

[roguishcat]

WIP Monday

Thank you so much for tagging me @anacdoce! Your snippet is just lovely! 💖

Here's more of my Halsin x Reader (Durge) story. This takes place just after Bhaal's temple part.

You woke with a start, finding yourself nestled against Halsin's chest. Not a bad way to wake up, considering you should not have woken at all.

You were in his tent, your head on a pillow with a soft blanket cocooning the two of you. Seeing as Halsin never bothered with one before, it was probably there for your benefit. It was so sweet that he worried about you getting cold that you wanted to bite him. Not hard enough to draw blood, just a little.

Now, there was another little detail about Halsin. You knew for a fact, and how you knew that was not important, that Halsin slept in the nude.

Moving hurt so much you almost passed out, but you needed to know. Still disoriented but very much a woman on a mission, you were delighted to feel your nose brush against the skin of his very much naked chest. You wiggled your fingers and toes ever so discreetly. Nope, definitely pants on. How disappointing.

Tilting your head up, you felt your cheeks heat a little as you realised that Halsin was looking at you all this time.

You gulped.

“How are you feeling?” he said softly, as if afraid that he would startle you.

“Like the god of murder chewed me up and spat me out, but fine otherwise.��

Shit.

Why couldn’t you say something flirty and normal? Astarion would know what to say. He really needed to write a book on how to talk to potential lovers. That smooth silver-tongued bastard would make a fortune. You would buy two copies.

Strangely enough, you felt a rumble of laughter as Halsin’s chest rose and fell under your cheek. It was the most beautiful sound you've ever heard.

No pressure tags: @clazberryk, @funniestbitchinfaerun, @xxnashiraxx,

@verbenaa, @lanafofana, @fangbangerghoul, @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @kalmiaphlox,

@khywren, @silent-words and anyone else who wants to share!

[ominouspuff]

ooooh can i see something from "the one about gentleness"?

This one is a large/ambitious image, but here is a section. The idea behind it is “gentleness is a choice” — a major hc of mine for Cody in the RepGA fix-it AU, right alongside the “Cody as a military prodigy that could be (and occasionally is) terrifying”.

@lunaemoth @thepatchycat, since you wanted to see this one too (I’ll also address your second choice options, just wanted to include you here as well.)

[alistarascendance]

❝𝐈 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨, 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧—𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧?��

— in which, fabled legend Alistar returns from the Chasm decades after their descent, only to find themself faced with an issue: humanity, in their absence, has created a world of suffering, dilapidated by greed, and Alistar’s presence only continues to fuel their selfishness, as a living legend must kill… or be killed.

Alistar: Ascendance is a cyberpunk, dystopian romance interactive fiction that was originally intended to simply be a story, before its writer (me) decided to be impulsive and turn it into an IF.

DISCLAIMERS

this story will contain depictions of alcohol, smoking, blood, violence, profanity, mild gore, yandere behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive themes, discrimination, self-hatred, mentions of emotional and physical abuse, suicidal thoughts, an oppressive government, fictional languages and religions, real world philosophies/religions including but not limited to: cynicism, nihilism and atheism; a corrupt world, discussion of morals and human conscience, as well as other mature themes. this list will be updated as the story is written.

please keep all of this in mind while reading!

A gender-selectable MC, who you choose the name, personality, sexuality, appearance, and morals of.

A wide variety of choices to choose from that will impact your story, and the need to keep your MC sane (or just go batshit insane. That works, too).

5 male love interests + 1 secret RO, all of whom you can maintain a simply platonic relationship with if you wish, or you can just continue to flirt with them endlessly (+ a FWB relationship for some).

An enriching world and story, set in a cyberpunk dystopia (we know all of you are here for the romance though).

A powerful MC 😔😔

ROs (romance options, also referred to as LIs or love interests).

THE SURFACE DWELLER:

Seven. 21, Chaotic Good. Mechanic.

“The HIVE needs to fall. There are no exceptions—not even for you.”

The first person you meet once you arrive on the Surface, you and Seven have a unique bond. He’s got a reputation in the slums and Neon for being great at parties, but his friendliness can easily be read as something more.

Is it something more? Further observations will have to be made…

THE SURVIVOR

Saturn. 23, Lawful Evil. Bartender.

“Keep your head down, and you’ll survive.”

The quiet bartender has a curious perspective on things. He seems to have no problem with the HIVE members patrolling his bar, even serving them drinks like they’re normal customers, despite their heavy armor and edges that are too sharp to be humane.

He also doesn’t seem to be particularly interested in you in the slightest. Why’s that?

THE DIPLOMAT

“Is it better to live in quiet solitude, your voice stripped and taken—or would you rather have died, knowing your voice was the loudest amongst them all?”

Chain. 23, alignment unclear. Current occupation unknown.

He’s someone to keep an eye out for. While he hasn’t practiced his craft in years, he may still prove to be dangerous. Just as friendly as Seven, but far more difficult to truly befriend.

Obtain new information as soon as possible…

THE PUPPET

Judge me if you must. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m up here, and you’re down there.

Orion. 25, Lawful Neutral. HIVE operative.

The HIVE member patrolling Saturn’s bar. Part of something greater than he is, but he’s a part of it, regardless. Keep him around…

OTHER ENTITIES

Argos: Neutral Good. Age unknown. The deity whose spear you brandished, after his passing. He was a good man, but the fact only makes your sins rest heavier in your heart.

Teacher: True Neutral. Around ~200 years old. The chasm-dwelling shadow who taught you all you know of the Chasm and its residents.

Alistar: alignment unknown. Around ~200 years old. That’s you! You’re Alistar. At least, that’s what the world has been calling you ever since you ended the war and revitalized humanity, so that is what you will be referred to as throughout the entirety of the story. However, if you’d like to change your name (as Alistar is the default) you may!

As I am primarily an author (as in I literally have done nothing else with my life) I am new to coding (I took ONE coding club in fourth grade) and am trying to write out and perfect a chapter before converting it into typical IF form.

Once I manage to get things situated, I’ll started to code. I’m currently almost done writing chapter 4, so I’ll start working on coding once I finish it.

If anyone wants to read the chapters I’ve written until now, just shoot me an ask or message :)) I’d be happy to show you. otherwise, here are the ones I’ve posted so far:

CHAPTERS

CHAPTER ONE: COURTING DEATH CHAPTER TWO: THOSE WHO REMAIN CHAPTER THREE: TARNISHED DREAMS

asked to be tagged for new chapters!

[honeyedmiller]

wip wednesday

tysm for the tag my bby @joelsgreys <3

This is something I’ve been working on, slowly but surely. It’s almost done, and it was going to be a surprise drop but honestly I miss being on here and I miss writing. Life has just been so busy. Anyway, here’s a snippet of “Pretty Little Thing”

Hope I can get this up soon along with part four of ABD. Thank you all for being so patient with me as I try to get back into the swing of things.

no pressure tags: @punkshort @endlessthxxghts @ozarkthedog @ilovepedro @javierpena-inatacvest @joeloverture

[zepskies]

Sleepless Nights?

Hey Beka! Hope you're doing well on this chill Saturday. 💜

Ooh yeah, re: the WIP Tag Game, I'll tell you about this upcoming little one-shot! Thanks so much for asking. 🥰

Sleepless Nights

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: After a tryst you instigated in the backseat of his Baby, you and Dean have started something new. He’s just not sure that you’re as “all in” as you claimed to be.

This one is a request from one of my patrons on Patreon (coming out tomorrow there!). It's basically a sequel to Maybe More Than Enough, though it can be read as a stand-alone.

Sneak Peek:

Blearily he cracked his eyes open, unearthed an arm from where it was tucked under his pillow, and carefully raised his phone to check the time, trying not to let the light from the screen burn his retinas in the still dark room.

4:00 a.m.

He groaned. Goddamn it.

He turned over onto his other side to face where you should’ve been lying next to him. He frowned when he saw nothing but the sheets pulled back and a dented, empty pillow.

No matter how he fought it down, a small tinge of worry, and the beginnings of disappointment churned in his gut. His brows furrowed.

Did you regret it already?

Coming soon on 11/14!

[issylra]

Last Line Tag Game! ✨

tagged by @valeriianz ❤️

using this as an excuse to post a snip from the second chapter of distraction (reaction)! please ignore any typos because I haven't edited yet:

It is not Dream's intention to intrude, but he finds himself intruding nonetheless, frozen as he is at the threshold of Hob's washroom door. The scent of lavender tickles his nose, carried across the quiet flat by heavy, humid air.  "You can come in. Got enough bubbles here to protect my modesty," Hob says, after Dream has spent several minutes mulling over an appropriate greeting. He sounds almost fond, and Dream allows himself to take a step through the door, eyes trained steadfastly at the wall above Hob's head. "Not that there's much modesty left after those photos." "It was not my intention to—" "I know," Hob cuts him off, something like amusement coloring the tone of his voice. "Like I said before, I'm not ashamed." Dream doesn't respond, Matthew's words a distracting mantra in his head. Tell him, boss. Truthfully, Dream does not even know where to begin. He dares a look downward, and it's another in a long list of Hob Gadling related mistakes.  Hob is wet, errant bubbles sticking to the skin of his chest. Dream watches the drops of water as they trickle down from the hollow of his throat, leaving goosebumps in their wake until they eventually disappear back into murky bath water.

I feel like everyone has been tagged, so apologies in advance for any duplicates: @tharkuun @hardly-an-escape @lenreli @reallyintoscience and whoever might want to do it! also, no pressure because I'm not sure who's writing anymore.

[sentientcave]

WAIT WAIT WAIT i need to hear about the 141 paranormal investigators omg???

OKAY SO

Basically it's like, a non-military AU where they have a youtube channel and investigate haunted places and look for cryptids and junk. Ghost is the camera/editing guy, Gaz and Johnny handle social media and are the primary faces, and John is a professor of Mythology and Folklore on extended leave that became a permanent fixture after they interviewed him too many times. They're on an American road trip, and they chance upon a hidden town full of actual supernatural people and creatures. Cue shenanigans while the townspeople try not to get caught on camera. Also they meet a hot witch who runs the B&B (the only place to stay in town).

Here's some of all this silliness:

“Relax, Soap.” Price used his stern teaching voice, the one that could command a rowdy hall of college students (most of whom were only taking his class because they thought it would be an easy credit) to be quiet and pay attention. “If we get lost you’ll get to gloat about bein’ right, how about that?”

“Rather no’ get lost, but Ah suppose it’ll do.”

Simon and Gaz exchanged a look, both of them trying not to laugh. They were an odd bunch, by any metric. Gaz had started a youtube channel reviewing local businesses around Manchester while he was attending university, which is where he had met Simon (Or Ghost, as he had introduced himself back then), who had been the butcher at a shop Gaz wanted to review. Ghost had been told to give Gaz a tour, so he had, reluctantly, and Gaz had gone home later that week to find Ghost sitting in front of his computer, editing the video.

“You do shite work,” he’d said, the only explanation he had offered for his presence in Ga’s apartment. “Fine substance, but terrible camera an’ editin’.”

And well, Ghost’s video had done a lot better than any of Gaz’s previous ones, so he’d asked him to continue. Ghost suggested moving on to different content as well, to exploring some of the spookier sites around Manchester (Of which Ghost seemed to be intimately familiar, unnervingly enough), and they had interviewed Price a few times to give the videos an air of legitimacy, since he was a professor of mythology and folklore at Gaz’s university.

Johnny had been their missing link, however. They’d gone to do a video in Glasgow, and kept running into him everywhere they went. He’d provided some useful local knowledge, and had a channel of his own, where he mostly blew stuff up and did parkour around the city. The Glasgow videos all went viral, and the channel suddenly became something they could potentially throw themselves into doing on a more full time basis.

Price, chafing at the routine of teaching, asked to join them on a more permanent basis as well. And since he had the two things that the rest of them lacked (A car and a savings account), they agreed. That had been four years ago. And somehow, it was working. They weren’t exactly making a lot of money, but they were getting by, and Price had written and published two new books, using their travel and research to pad out what might have otherwise been dry, academic work.

Simon flicked the radio back on, the van filling with the sharp sound of static. They’d lost their last station somewhere along the drive. He fiddled with the tuner until an upbeat, overly patriotic country song came in clear.

Gaz made a disgruntled sound in the backseat. He’d made his disdain for country music clear somewhere back in California.

“Just tryin’ to get a traffic report. Untwist your knickers, Gaz.”

“If we’d stayed on the main road we’d no’ need a report.” Johnny could never stop himself from throwing in his two pence. “We’d be in it.”

Price reached over for the volume, and turned up the music, drowning them out as one song switched to the next.

[luckydeuce]

last line(s) / WIP tag

Warning: I'm exhausted and busy with work (sob) and so, so under the weather it's just a massive shit show. And I've been struggling to write but some wonderful, wonderful souls tagged me recently (I'm talking about you @happy-days19 and @soliloquy-dawn and @onyxsboxes and @weimarweekly and @reallylilyreally and @amiserableseriesofevents) and I swear I didn't ignore it!!!

This is collective for @london-cowboy and this account because there's more than 1 me. Here we go.

John takes a small sip of his whiskey. It isn’t Macallan. It must be The Dalmore, the 18-Year-Old, or something similar: deep and spicy—burnt black coffee and marmalade. It’s wonderful. But it’s also— “Not what I wanted, Buck.” Buck has been just raising his glass to his lips. He stops, mid-gesture. “Pardon?” Oh, pardon my ass, frat boy, thinks John. This is perfect, fucking perfect. A wonderful opportunity to start. He hates that it is happening. “They didn’t have Macallan?” Buck looks confused, eyes darting between John’s lips and the £400-a-bottle liquid in John’s glass. “They did, but—” The thing is, John knows. He knows they did, just as he knows Buck was trying to impress him. Win him, please him. In any other circumstances, it would have worked, nice and simple. But nice and simple isn’t really what Buck wants from John.   “Then bring me what I wanted,” John says. He doesn’t blink, doesn’t smile; equally, he doesn’t frown. “Please.”

Tagging @stereobone , @whirlpool-blogs , @feyd-meowtha and @wayrad , only if you'd like to (but adding a Dom John Egan kind of please).

[onboardsorasora]

Ripe cherries??????

It's my maxiel medieval omegaverse fic that's been tabled for like 6 months now but I opened the doc today🥹

“King Jos and Prince Max, your Majesty.” The self-important man bowed at the waist to another man, seated behind a desk– working. Said man stood and his richly dyed doublet caught the light coming through the high windows of the room. His face was handsome in a chiseled, rugged way and Max understood why when this trip was announced, the omega of the palace were awash with whispers of the alpha King Mark of the South.

“Jos, welcome.” Mark smiled broadly and clasped forearms with Jos who smiled equally widely. Both kingdoms served to gain from this arrangement. The South would gain a very powerful ally and the North would gain an omega princess to give their kingdom alpha heirs.

Max thought it was all silly, there was no guarantee that an omega would produce alpha children. Just because one was royal didn’t make them any more likely than a peasant. If anything, King Nico of the West would no doubt be the first to broach the topic what with his bevy of omega children. They were all lovely and no less fit to lead because of their designations. But that was an argument for a different day. Max’s purpose here was to meet, wed and bed a royal omega.

He peered around the room quietly as the Kings spoke, noting the absence of said omega. King Mark’s youngest brother, Daniel. He is said to be quite beautiful and joyful. As if reading his thoughts, Jos peaked around the room, noticing the obvious lack as well.

“Where is your brother? No doubt he will want to meet his new alpha.” Jos’ proud smile coloured his words when talking about Max.

The self-important man left the room quietly. Assumingly to fetch the wayward omega. The doors to the room opened again and a slender man walked in, his dark doublet and trousers were of the practical fabrics used by those that worked in the castle, Max recognized from their short trek through the grand halls.

Mark suppressed a sigh but he didn’t suppress the way his eyes rolled as he took in the curly head that lowered into a skillful curtsey before them. Max watched curiously, Jos’ lip turned up in a half sneer before he seemed to catch himself.

“Many apologies brother, Jetty needed help in the infirmary and I lost track of time.” The apology was demure and Max watched as Mark bit his tongue– for what reason, he didn’t understand.

“It is fine, brother. Please rise and meet King Jos and your betrothed Prince Max. Gentlemen, my brother Princess Daniel.”

The newly introduced Princess Daniel stood and Max was taken in by his gorgeously bright brown eyes. He was lithe, with messy curls that have all but escaped the comb seemingly placed for that purpose. He smiled serenely at them and Max couldn’t look away.

[lgwilt]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks @loki-is-my-kink-awakening for the tag!

—

“Mobius speaks every language on the timeline. We all do.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Loki argued, trying to ignore the flutter of panic in his chest. “You can’t possibly speak every language on the timeline. Your minds would…” He gestured extravagantly.

“Explode?” B-15 suggested, the corners of her mouth twitching.

“Well… yes.”

“The Time Keepers program us with the basics. ‘Hello,’ ‘excuse me,’ ‘we’re arresting you in the name of the Time Variance Authority for crimes against the timeline’—that sort of thing.” B-15 paused, eyeing Loki contemplatively. “Mobius, on the other hand… it’s like he actually enjoys it. He’s fluent in Asgardian; never shuts up about what a beautiful language it is.”

Loki slumped in his chair. It was bad enough finding out that Mobius had apparently understood every single frustrated outburst and muttered aside (of which there had been plenty over the past… well, however long he’d been at the TVA) without B-15 taking such obvious delight in his discomfort.

“So this morning when I...” He trailed off, unwilling to repeat the words out loud.

“Oh, that? Yeah. We all heard that.” B-15 suddenly looked more serious. “You should probably apologise.”

—

I’m in “rediscovering my shamefully neglected wips” mode at the moment. A snippet from a draft kiss prompt fill, “as an apology”. Set in early season 1.

Tagging @insert-witty-user-name-here @dewdropreader @starport-seven-five @blackbirdofasgard @mirilyawrites and anyone else who see this (for this week or any other week 💚)

[forgetmenotsassenach17]

WIP Tag Game

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

Thanks to my love @flyinghome-againstthewind for the tag! Here is a fun/silly bit of a future chapter of Time Comes in Roses 🌹:

“Sassenach?”  “Hmmm?” Claire contentedly, sleepily inquired. “Ye ken how I’ve been keeping a few spare items of clothing at yer place like ye’ve been doing at mine?” “Mmhmm,” Claire hummed in acknowledgement that she knew what he was talking about.  “Weel, ye see, when I went tae grab a dry shirt from yer dresser earlier, I couldna help but notice my favorite rugby shirt was hiding at the bottom of the drawer.”

Claire’s body stiffened just slightly, and even though he could not see her face, he knew a blush was spreading across her cheeks.  “Really?” Claire’s voice feigned ignorance. “How did it get there?” “That’s a good question, lass. Ye see, I distinctly remember ye trying tae slip it in tae yer laundry basket a few weeks ago when we were doing our washing. Trying tae steal my favorite shirt right underneath my nose. And when I caught ye, ye grudgingly gave it back. I even remember putting it away in my closet.” “Can’t be much of a favorite shirt if you haven’t realized it is missing for nearly a month,” Claire muttered. Jamie maneuvered them so Claire was on her back, with him hovering above her. “Sae ye admit tae stealing my shirt, Sassenach?” Jamie asked, his lips ever so lightly brushing hers with the question.  “No comment,” Claire replied, unable to keep the smirk off of her face or her lips from kissing his.

[ominouspuff]

obviously i’m gonna ask about “A Day In The Life Of A Corrie” 👀 while also bracing myself~

@lesquatrechevrons, here you are! I’ll be tagging you in the other WIP as well.

This one’s an atmospheric study - another slice from the RepGA AU. There are quite a few scenes I’m omitting for spoilers.

In the AU, the Corries don’t stay isolated in the senate for long after they arrive. Fox and co. soon realize they’re working with selective information, and proceed to intel-gather like they’re in enemy territory, building infrastructure and hunting through the lower levels until they hit places most governing bodies have purposefully forgotten about or made completely automated.

Along the way they compete (and negotiate) with criminal syndicates, mostly-forgotten isolated slums, shipping markets, understaffed policing forces, media and news groups, and eventually establishing themselves as a multifaceted shadow-group growing like a foreign, invasive weed under M.C. Fox’s direct command.

It’s a grey war of information, subtle seizure of power, and ugly dilemmas.

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

WIP Tag Game

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

Tagged by @philtstone, thank you so much!

From the next chapter of Seaside, which promises to be a nice long one!

Before she could turn to check on Faith, a door opened down the hall and Faith appeared, her eyes still heavy-lidded from sleep as she smiled sweetly and twined her arms around Claire’s waist before burying her head in Claire’s belly.  There were many things she mourned to have missed in both Fergus and Faith’s early years, but these years with them held their own treasures for which Claire was grateful to see, like Faith’s sleepy sweetness first thing in the mornings.  Claire brushed Faith’s hair out of the girl’s face. “Come with me. I’ll make us some tea and we can sit in the parlor.”  With Faith’s help, she found her way around Lallybroch’s kitchen, and the two of them snuck quietly to the parlor. They squeezed into a padded window seat together, taking in the morning sunlight across Lallybroch’s fields with quiet contentment.  “Faith, do you remember when you taught me what ‘my darling’ is in Gaelic?”  “Aye, when I was sick.”  “Yes.” Claire felt her heartbeat quicken, as though what she was about to do was illicit in some way. “Do you know… Do you know what mugrye means?” “Mo ghraidh?” Faith repeated, matching Jamie’s articulation. Claire could only nod. “Grannie says it means ‘my love.’”

no-pressure tagging my buds @walkinginland @theawkwardterrier @frasers-of-my-heart @forgetmenotsassenach17 and anyone else who has something to share!

[honeyedmiller]

wip wednesday

ty for the tag bby @joelsgreys <3

-

And… you couldn’t help yourself. You kept staring at it, perfectly wrapped around his thick thigh. The leather was a parcel of fine craftsmanship, made to fit him like a glove. The gun in the holster was the cherry on top as it sat flush against his jean-clad thigh.

You just couldn’t stop fucking staring.

This thick, broad and delicious man was waiting for you to pounce—challenging you, mocking you. He quirked his eyebrow up at you as he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the frame of your bedroom door.

“Sweet girl,” Joel can’t hold back his groan, “Keep starin’ at me n’ my thigh holster like that n’ I might just have to choke you out with it.”

-

idk what this is tbh. new kink unlocked mayhaps? sunshine x grump trope where sunshine goes a lil feral mayhaps? lmaooo

no pressure tags: @ozarkthedog @punkshort @ovaryacted @javierpena-inatacvest @endlessthxxghts @jolapeno @sugarcoated-lame

[roguishcat]

WIP (not) Wednesday

Thank you for tagging me @obsessedwhyyes! 💖 I loved reading your 🔥🔥🔥WIP.

Here is more of Halsin x Reader (Durge) fic where Durge is hopelessly pining for the bear. Inspired by the playthrough where Halsin romance just wouldn’t trigger.

Your dagger was out of your hand and flying into the Absolutist's side before he had the opportunity to land another blow. You appeared beside the cultist moments later, your fingers squeezing his throat hard.

That bitch had another thing coming if he thought you would allow anyone to harm your darling bear! His reluctance to bed you aside, Halsin was perfect in every way!

The man went slack, you tossing the body aside carelessly. You crouched at the bear's side, his eyes wild as he snarled when your hand almost touched the wound.

"Now, there is no need to take that tone with me!" you huffed and swatted his paw out of your way. "We need to get you patched up. Plenty more of them to kill!"

You uncorked a potion, offering it to Halsin. The bear eyed you with an expression you couldn’t quite understand. Him being a bear and all.

"What? Can't turn back? How about this then," you poured some potion onto your palm, cupping your hand so it wouldn’t spill.

This seemed to be better, as Halsin started lapping it up with quick licks. You had your eyes trained on the ground, lest your mind would once again happily go to the gutter. You felt a rush of magic and a humanoid hand grasped yours firmly.

"Thank you for your aid."

Ooh, his voice. That slightly raspy, lovely baritone, the star of your dreams.

"Don't mention it. I would do anything to y- FOR you!"

Shit.

Real smooth there. And you wondered why he chose not to come by your tent.

Luckily, the battle raged on, so you had a great excuse to get away from that disaster of a chat and busy yourself with massacring a few dozen cultists. It was quite considerate of them to choose tonight for an attack. You wondered if Gortash had anything to do with it. A way to tell you to hurry the fuck up and deal with Orin.

No pressure tags: @clazberryk, @inkymoonbunny, @funniestbitchinfaerun,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae, @anacdoce,

@verbenaa, @khywren, @busy-baker

anyone else who wants to share! 💖

[almostfoxglove]

Hi!! I’m curious about more than letters. It made me really curious the bit you put on your poll. I hope you’re having a nice day!❤️

HI WYM! tysm for sending this ahh :,)

more than letters is about sweet frankie, and is based off this mootboard made for me by @yopossum! I saw those postcards and thought ooooooooooo yes. pen pals!

basically, reader and frankie were paired up as pen pals in elementary school (they lived across the country from each other!) but ended up writing to each other well into high school. eventually they decided to give a long distance relationship a go in college, and they travelled back and forth to meet and see each other, but they had a falling out and broke up, and haven't been in touch since.

(side note: did anyone else get paired up with a pen pal in elementary school? because this was definitely a thing when I was a kid!!)

jump to: present day, more than a decade after college graduation, reader's mom calls to say she received a letter for her from frankie at reader's childhood home, and forwards it to reader. if you want a peek at the opening (currently a work in progress), here's a peek :,)

🚧 ask me about my wips!