#and writing 1k fanfics in my head at work

[juliets-roller-derby-awesomeness]

i think i would be a much happier person if i could just watch this show for the first time again

[pretzel-box]

OMG THE LITTLE DRABBLE YOU WRITE FOR SEBASTIAN WHERE READER ACCIDENTALLY GAVE HIM A LOVE NOTE INSTEAD OF THE FILES HE WANTED WAS SO GOOD!! can you please try to recreate it as a fanfic ? Love your writing btw :3 (also can it please be fem!reader?)

Tags: Established Relationship [Marriage], Fluff, Comfort, Motivational Notes

Words: 1k

Sebastian spends most of his precious time reading files, listening to annoying human visitors and scavenging. The last name was something he enjoyed since it was so simple and relaxing.

On this particular scavenging run, things were different. He hadn’t come across anything remarkable for a while, letting him feel a wave of frustration run over him, but then, tucked away in an old storage room, he found a file cabinet half-buried under debris. It was unlocked, and inside were files, all marked as unimportant or abandoned.

He hesitated for a second, figuring it was nothing more than outdated reports or useless data. But something compelled him to grab a few of the folders and stash them in his pack. Who knows? Maybe he could find some clues about the facility’s history, or something he could use against Urbanshade.

After the long trek back to his shop, Sebastian settled in, tossing his gear aside and grabbing a drink before collapsing at his cluttered desk. He didn’t bother with the files at first, instead leaning back, glancing at the framed photo on his desk.

It was of you, standing by his side, beaming that radiant smile of yours. He traced a finger gently over the frame with a small, rare smile tugging at his lips. The two of you had been through hell together, but despite everything, here you were—still by his side, still the one constant in his life.

Sighing, he leaned forward, flipping open the first folder from the stack he’d brought back. But instead of the usual boring documents he expected, he found something else—a small, folded note.

"Seb, I know you're probably frustrated right now, but I just want you to know how much I love you. You’re stronger than you think, and you’ll get through whatever this is. Remember that, okay?"

Sebastian blinked, caught off guard. He stared at the note for a moment, his fingers brushing over the paper as a warmth spread through his chest. He recognized the handwriting instantly—it was yours. But what was it doing here?

He reached for the next file, flipping it open with more curiosity this time. Inside, he found another note:

"When you feel like the world is crashing down on you, remember that you’re the one who holds us together. You’ve always been my hero, and you always will be."

A chuckle escaped his lips as he read the words, shaking his head in disbelief. What were these doing here? He sifted through more of the files, each one containing more of the same—small, handwritten notes from you, each one filled with love, encouragement, and sweet little reminders of how much you believed in him.

"I know you’re tired, but don’t forget to take care of yourself. Drink some water, take a break. I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready to come home."

“You mean everything to me, Sebastian. Don’t ever forget that. Even on the days you feel lost, I’m right here beside you."

His heart swelled with every note he found, the exhaustion from the day’s work slowly melting away. He could practically hear your voice in his head, soft and comforting, as if you were sitting right next to him.

He laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief. Of course you’d do something like this. You always knew how to surprise him, even in the smallest ways. He could imagine you sneaking these notes into various places around the Blacksite, knowing full well that one day he’d find them. You were always thinking ahead, always finding ways to make him smile, even when he didn’t think he had the energy for it.

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. He couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, a little less burdened.

Grinning, he stood up and moved to the back of his shop, grabbing two mugs and setting them on some boxes that served as tables. He heard the soft patter of your feet as you came down the ladder that led to the small loft in his shop where you usually rested, and soon enough, there you were, walking into the room, rubbing your eyes from a nap you’d taken.

“Hey,” you said, smiling as you stretched your arms over your head, an action that he always loved to see you did it. “What’s with the grin?”

Sebastian just shook his head, watching you with a fondness he rarely showed anyone else. “I found your little scavenger hunt,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

You blinked, confused for a moment before realization dawned on your face. “Oh, you found them?” you asked, a playful glint in your eye. “Took you long enough.”

He walked over, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close, his forehead resting gently against yours. “You know,” he said softly, his voice full of affection, “you’re a pain in the ass sometimes.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. His body was cold as always, making you feel cooled down but his actions had a comforting warmth to it as if a weighted blanket was laid upon you. “Yeah, but you love me for it.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I really do.”

The two of you stood there for a while, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the world feeling a little less heavy in that moment. Eventually, you pulled away, glancing over at the files scattered on the table.

“So,” you teased, “how many did you find?”

“Enough to remind me I married a complete sap,” he replied with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, leaning up to kiss him, your lips meeting him and you could feel him lean closer. “Well, someone’s gotta keep you from brooding all the time.”

Sebastian chuckled, his arms tightening around you. “Guess I’m stuck with you then, huh?”

You smiled, resting your head on his chest. “Yeah,” you said softly. “You’re stuck with me.”

And for once, Sebastian didn’t mind being stuck at all.

[dipperscavern]

Lord dippy!! Congrats on 1k they're soooo well deserved <3 you're ensuring the safety and well-being of your people (stark men's wives) and keeping us warm and well-fed (writing tons of amazing stuff), without you we'd never manage to survive trough the unforgiving long winter (the lack of good fanfics & blurbs)...anyways :3 may I humbly ask for an angst/comfort blurb with Jon?? In my mind he never left Winterfell and was forever happy with his alive siblings and he never had to feel like a bastard outsider. he didn't deserve all dat

hi baby!! this was so sweet omg thank you so much :( i hope you enjoy <3 (spoiler alert i got carried away) (as per usual)

jon snow x gn!reader

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jon winces, a small noise emitting from his throat as pain seeps up his torso.

his cuts run deep; they’ll scar, melisandre says, but stannis’ closest thing to a maester insists on jon using a paste and bandages to allow them to heal. the paste certainly helps, but it still aggravates the skin when applied — no matter how soothing it was crafted to be.

the process is dreadful. it took minutes of him staring at the marks where he knows his blood left him, hesitation clawing up his throat before he worked up the ability to even begin. the open wounds have scabbed over, allowing the paste to coat them, but to jon, it doesn’t make the sight any prettier. he thinks the marred flesh a grisly spectacle.

memory of his fathers words echo in the back of his mind. lord eddard stark always appreciated scars on a man, saying it not only told a story, but spoke of how they survived it. a sick part of jon wishes there was no story of survival to tell.

a sharp intake of air passes through his lips as his hands shake, making his movements sloppy — accidentally pressing on the sensitive area more than he wished. he remembers when arrows pierced his skin, having a similar maintenance process as this; only these daggers wound unseen layers.

a knock on the door brings him out of his thoughts. it’s soft, tentative. he knows who it is before your honeyed voice rings from behind it. “Jon?”

he hums in question. “Can I come in?”

a second passes, a brief thought of covering himself enters his mind — a flash of insecurity pooling in his gut. it’s you, he reasons. but a different voice raises the question, would you reject the ugly parts of him?

his eyes flicker to his abdomen, another part of him now unworthy.

against his own better judgement, he hums in approval. he doesn’t turn to face you as the door opens; that small, aching part of him always wins one way or another.

he hears you turn the lock after you come in. he pretends not to know it’s because you realize he’s compromised, and you’re the only person he’d let see him like this. if he acknowledges it in full, he doubts his ability to keep his breathing steady — and these days his hands shake enough already.

another thumb-smooth of paste over a gash, another sharp ache. he grits his teeth in effort to conceal any noises that threaten to escape him. not in your company, not now. the atmosphere since his prominent death and return is tense as is.

unfortunately for him, you’re far too attentive to let it go unnoticed. a small turn of his head, and he sees your look of worry; the way your fingers grasp one another, no doubt in attempt to keep your qualms to yourself. it doesn’t work, it never has. not when it comes to jon, anyway.

“Jon, please let me help you.” a plea, a whisper of comfort you wish to offer him in the form of your saccharine hands. even as children, you insisted on bandaging his small cuts. putting cream on his bruises, dutifully checking on them until healed.

he stills. his voice a low, quiet rasp. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” your voice comes closer, and he feels you enter his space. what he wouldn’t give to make sure you never leave. “I want to. Can I?”

your hand wraps around his bicep, thumb moving slowly across his skin. a small, soothing touch that sends a warm feeling crawling up his spine. he’s lucky you don’t face him now, as you’d see the way his lashes have fluttered shut. such a seemingly simple thing you give him, and it makes his breath hitch all the same.

it doesn’t take much lately to set his emotions in disarray, and your touch is the only thing that helps. you seem to know this too, for your hands seek him now more than ever — and he would be a liar if he said he doesn’t cling to the respite you bring him like a lifeline.

his agreeance is nearly unheard, a small murmur accompanied by an even smaller nod. jon’s always had a hard time accepting help, especially it in the form of gentle touches and kind words; the kind he thinks himself undeserving of.

but you know jon. you know what he needs, even if he can’t bring himself to ask for it.

you press a small kiss to his bare shoulder, moving to stand in front of him. goosebumps trail his body at the feeling of your lips, and he bites back the want to close his eyes. he wants to savor the feeling, but he cherishes the moments gets to admire you even more.

your brows pinch ever so lightly when you see his abdomen, even with some of the severed skin already covered in paste. though you take the bowl harboring the medicine, a pang of embarrassment courses through him at your disdain. when your fingers reach to make contact, he expects pain, but none ever comes.

you touch him with a gentleness thats featherlight, and he subconsciously relaxes under your fingertips. he feels like his senses are on overdrive, feeling every touch, every breath. every unspoken word communicated through your treatment of him.

the silence is comforting, even as you frown. all of jon’s attention is on you, so much so that he doesn’t even feel the usual dull ache of torn skin healing itself. even so, you can’t seem to help yourself.

you whisper an apology, a hesitant confession. one that jon is caught off guard by. he almost doesn’t know what you mean, until he tears his gaze away from your expression enough to notice yours is trapped on the place where four daggers took his life. something clicks into place for him.

he stops your hand, his own wrapping around your wrist. not harshly, jon never is. “Hey,” he says. your eyes meet his. “You didn’t do this.”

though not directly said aloud, you know his true meaning. he doesn’t like when you apologize for things that aren’t your fault. even in his current state, he’s ever quick to reassure. “Y’ hear me?”

you nod, and while it’s not enough to remove the pity from your gaze, you don’t have that guilty look in your eye — like you did something wrong. jon knows you carry his death on your shoulders, even when the weight isn’t yours to bear.

he brings your wrist to his lips, kissing it before allowing you to continue. he can see the ghost of a smile grace your lips, and that’s enough for him.

minutes pass like that; you, tending to his wounds with the touch of embodied delicacy, and him, soaking up every piece of you he can. jons content to spend a lifetime in this very moment.

his wish isn’t granted, and soon, he’s reaching for fresh bandages. deja-vu of the arrows shot by a red archer lingers in the back of his mind, but the back is where it stays, as you’re forefront. always.

when he’s finished wrapping the white material, he turns to face you. “You don’t have to do that. Again.”

“Do you not want me to?” you’re sincere in your asking, and he knows you wouldn’t if he asked you not to — but he doesn’t, and his silence is telling.

you can’t help the small smile at his lack of words, and when you smile, jon can’t help but follow suit. mere days from being released from the strangers clutches, and you have him smiling. you’re a godsend. angelic. he’d tell you so if he could ever find the words.

but you’ve never relied on things only spoken. you step forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek and wrapping your arms around him; careful to avoid your torso touching his. jon’s appreciative of your effort, but he’s less hesitant, pulling you flush to him regardless. his head finds the crook of your shoulder, and he has no intent on letting you go anytime soon — unless there’s another knock on the door.

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[1800-fight-me]

The Wrong Guy

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Rating: M (As always- MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, non explicit sex

Word count: A little over 1k

Synopsis: Both you and Logan fight against the growing feelings for one another as your relationship deepens.

Author’s note: I am so in love with Wolverine my brain stopped working, please accept this humble offering! I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, the words rough and choked out as if he had to force himself to push the vile words past his teeth. 

“Like what?” you breathed out. 

“Like you see your future in my eyes,” he said. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach and your eyes began to water. 

“Because all I see when I look in yours is a past that broke me completely.” 

You reached your hand across the table and gently laid it atop his own. 

“Logan,” you whispered. 

He shook his head and pulled his hand away. You swore you could hear the sound of your heart cracking. 

“You don’t want this, sweetheart,” he practically growled as he gestured to himself and you couldn’t tell if he was trying to convince you or himself. 

“I can decide for myself,” you protested. 

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. You deserve better than to be shackled to someone like me,” he said, and now his hazel eyes shone with unshed tears- the same as yours. 

You glared at him, suddenly sick of all his self hatred bullshit. 

“Then why haven’t you told me to fuck off? You certainly have no problem pushing people away.” you snapped. 

“Because I can’t!” he said, voice raised. 

His breaths came hard and heavy and a part of you wanted to only offer him comfort, but your defenses were up from his harsh words. 

“Why?” you asked, voice flat. 

“It hurts to be near you, a constant reminder of my biggest failure, of everything I lost,” he said as he hung his head. 

This time the tears did begin to fall. 

You opened your mouth to speak but he continued. In a broken voice so unlike the powerful wolverine the world knew, he said, “And it hurts worse to be away from you.” 

If honesty was finally on the menu, you decided to say what had been on your mind as well. 

“When I look at you, I see the future I should have had. I see the life that should have been filled with love and the feeling of home rather than constant wandering and heartbreak.” 

He looked up at you and you ignored the impulse to smooth out the worried wrinkle between his brows with your thumb.  

“And that hurts too,” you said. 

He shook his head. “I’m not him, darlin’. I’m sorry you never met the Logan from your world, but I can’t be what you need from me.” 

“And I can’t be her,” you said, referring to the version of you that was once his wife. 

“I know,” he said, his voice heavy with pain and regret. 

He was your soulmate, but he wasn’t. A different version of the soulmate you were supposed to meet but never did. 

You were his soulmate, but you weren’t. A different version of the love of his life, his wife, the mother of his child, that was ripped from him violently and mercilessly. 

You were bound but doomed from the start. Both unable to walk away but also unable to stay. 

“Where does that leave us?” you asked in a voice so soft and tentative you didn’t even recognize it as your own. 

He sighed heavily, downed the rest of his whiskey, before he said, “I don’t fuckin’ know.” 

You sighed and stood up, ready to storm out of his apartment. 

“Wait,” he murmured, his large hand catching yours. 

You met his gaze and melted at the affection you saw there. 

You let him tug you back down to the couch, this time your body closer to his, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Close enough that the presence and scent of him was intoxicating. 

“Let me kiss you,” he said, voice low in a way that made your toes curl. 

You worried there were unspoken words he wasn’t willing to say, that he was really asking to kiss you one last time. 

This man had just ripped your heart out, but you could never say no to him. You could never deny him anything. 

“Logan,” you whimpered and he reached for your face, wiping your tears away before pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so tender you wondered if he was being honest before. You wondered if underneath the hurt that maybe he loved you. 

Your soul belonged to him. 

So you moved your lips in time with him, opening up at his prompting, and a soft whine came from the back of your throat as you tasted him, as your tongue slipped against his. 

A sound- something akin to a growl rumbled through his chest as he pulled you closer, kissed you harder, desperation evident in the way he consumed you. 

“Don’t wanna make you cry, baby,” he murmured against your skin as he trailed his lips across your jaw and throat. 

You whimpered as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“Let me make you feel good,” he said, and it was less of an order and more of a plea. 

You let him pull you onto his lap and make good on his promise to give you pleasure, the kind only he could provide. 

But the pain still sat heavy in your chest even as he kissed you gently, moved inside you, and helped you reach your peak as he stared into your eyes. 

This wasn’t anything like the other lust driven entanglements you had with Logan. No, this was him making love to you and baring his soul within the process. 

There were tears once again in both your eyes as he brought you over the edge with him. He held you against his sweat glistened chest and you listened to his slowing heartbeat as you traced patterns on his muscled torso. 

“What if we tried?” you asked softly. 

He hummed as his nose ran across your hair, breathing you in. 

“You’re it for me,” he said in agreement. 

You burrowed your face deeper into his chest and he held you tight. 

And when the morning came, you both tried to put the past and the future aside and just be together, to love each other.

You both tried. 

[0oolookitsme]

Sleepy Drunk

This is short, and bad. I've just been out of it and writing some angsty Klaus Mikaelson fanfics on my other blog, @aklaustaleteller (check it out if you're interested!) But I do think I'm getting back in my Harry groove, so wish me luck because I'm going to go and try to write a fic set in Hogwarts (and yes, I'm making Styles a Slytherin :))

Verse - Footballer!Harry x Art Director!Y/n

Word Count - I'm too tired to check but it's definitely less than 1k.

Warnings - Drunkenness ...*shrugs*

"C'mere," Hary mumbled, opening his arms for her.

She let a sloppy smile slip at that and lost her balance while getting up and slowly but surely staggering into his arms. Letting her body limp on him, she giggled when Harry walked backwards and dragged her into the bathroom.

"Sit," he asked of her as he washed his hands and once done, he turned and noticed that she had fallen asleep standing against the door.

Drying his hands, Harry placed his hands on her hips to move her. "C'mon, sit," he said but when she kept smiling at him, Harry sat her up himself.

"You really are a handful when you're drunk," he chuckled, shaking his head.

"No, I'm not," Y/n pouted, slapping his arm as he tied her hair up into a bun, at least close to one. "No, I'm not!" She protested once again as if he hadn't heard her.

"Okay, okay -- you aren't!" Harry surrendered, laughing and rubbing his wet hands on her face to get it wet. He then gently rubbed some cleanser on her face, watching in intrigue as her makeup started mixing up.

"Um -- I think I was supposed to wipe it off first," looking at her nervously, he trailed off.

"It's okay, I didn't have much on," she giggled, followed through by a hiccup.

With a smile on his mouth, Harry wiped off her face and began looking through serums when he heard her tell him that the toner was on the right end.

"Yes, yes," he mumbled to himself as he took the bottle out and sprayed some on her face from a little too far ...but it worked just fine.

Patting that into her skin, he went back to the serums and picked out the ones he's seen her apply the night before while he was brushing his teeth. Putting drops of each one, he massaged them in before putting the other ones on.

"Moisturizer, yes?" He asked, unsure whether it should be her eye cream instead.

She shook her head, her eyes closed and head resting against the mirror.

"Well, I can't seem to find your eye cream," Harry sighed, deciding to just skip it for a night.

He took out some of the moisturizer in his palm and put it on her face, proceeding to rub it in as gently as he could.

"I think that's it... we're skipping the eye cream and brushing tonight," he laughed boyishly, lifting her off of the counter and taking her to bed. "I can never perfect the art of changing your clothes," he shook his head, looking at the clothe she'd gone out in spilled everywhere in the room.

"I thought you'd change overtime but you're still that sleepy drunk that you were in uni," he chuckled, sliding the duvet over her as light snores began passing from her mouth again.

"Sleep tight, sleepy girl," he whispered, another smile creeping up his lips before he placed a kiss on her forehead.

[adnauseum11]

Misfire (John Price x Reader)

A little snippet of a scene came to me and made me laugh. John Price having a crush on a long time friend and finally working up the nerve to ask her out. Kinda.

less than 1k words

John Price x fem! reader

SFW

feedback welcome

I know almost nothing of CoD other than fanfic so go easy on me

I wouldn't know how to write shy and retiring if my life depended on it.

You’ve known John forever. Like, forever, forever. The friend group he originated from disintegrated years ago, but the two of you remained thick as thieves. He’s moved in and out of the country, and you’ve changed careers a few times, but through it all he’s been a reliable shoulder to lean on. He’s the first person you call when you need help moving for the millionth time, and he, good man that he is, turns up with beer and willing hands as soon as he’s available. If he grumbles about your proclivity for changing apartments so often you know it comes from a place of concerned affection. If anything, he’s pleased you’re closer to his bachelor pad now, negating the need to drive across town twice on game nights. God forbid you ride a bus for twenty-five minutes when he could deliver you to your doorstep in fifteen. He's retired from the Army, and still takes safety a little too seriously for your tastes. You indulge him though, because who actively chooses the bus when other, more pleasant options are available?

When he asks you to dinner, you agree without even blinking. You reason there must be a rugby game on or something he wants to see. You don’t even ask where to meet him, assuming, correctly, that he will pick you up. So, you are caught off guard when he turns up in your entrance way wearing a button-down shirt, suit jacket and dress pants. He too, is caught off guard. You look down at your outfit in unison. Bootcut jeans, well-worn Blundstone boots and a ratty but beloved faded t-shirt that cheerfully proclaims “IDAHO? No, you da ho” across the chest in cursive script. 

“Uh… what are you wearing?” He asks, cautiously.

“Me? What are YOU wearing?” Totally confused now, you can’t help but feel a little saucy about being put on your back foot.

“I asked you to dinner, didn’t I?”

John’s accent gets stronger when he’s caught up in strong emotions. That really should have been your first clue. But this is John. John. 

“Yeah, why are you all dressed up for beers? What game is on tonight anyways?” 

You throw him a look like he’s gone slow on the uptake as you reach for your coat. When you turn to look at him with your purse strap slung over your shoulder, he’s looking as confused as you feel. 

“Game? Love, who said anything about beers?”

“Wait, we aren’t going for beers?” Disappointment creeps into your voice and you can see you have managed to flummox the normally unflappable John. 

“Bleedin’ Jesus, I mean, we can have beers if ye want, sure. I just uh…” 

He lets the sentence hang, clearly uncertain.  

“You what?” You prompt, vaguely concerned at his out of character behaviour. 

“I made reservations at Stella del Mare.” He admits in a rush.

“You did what? This isn’t… beers? Is this… are we on a date?” The slow realization finally takes hold and a spiral of panic begins to descend through your body. “They won’t let me in like this!”

“Uh, no. No. They sure won’t.”

He agrees easily with the second half of your statement while staring at your chest and dodging the first. You narrow your eyes at him. This isn’t your first rodeo with John’s evasiveness. 

“How much time do I have?”

“Including travel time, or…?”

“John. If this is how you start all your first dates, I can see why you don’t have many second ones.”

“’Bout 15 minutes love.”

He answers seriously, properly chastised. 

You whip your purse over your head and slap it against his wide chest, catching him off guard. He holds it in place while you sling your coat off and dash upstairs again. 

He’s still in the same position when you return back down the steps, having swapped jeans for a black skirt and your (hilarious but wildly) inappropriate t-shirt for a silk, V-neck emerald blouse with cap sleeves. You’ve pulled your hair back into a simple bun and slicked on a light layer of neutral makeup and a deep red lip. John’s eyebrows climb as he catches a glimpse of you but he waits until you’re picking up your coat again before he speaks. 

“Listen, you look beautiful. I – “

“Can it, I’m still annoyed at you for the moment.” 

You take the purse out of his hands and slide the strap over your shoulder, smacking his big bicep playfully as you push him out the door and into the night. You resolve to question him thoroughly about his poor communication skills at dinner as you lock up. Wasn’t he in charge of people in the army? Christ. 

[radioregine]

WRITEBLR INTRO xx

hey, all! i’m n.k. :-)

i'm not new to tumblr (have had a few diff accounts since 2011/2012), but i'm new to interacting with writeblr proper. 

ABOUT ME

late 20s

black & queer & disabled 

lifelong writer/musician/creative (in both professional and hobbyist capacities)

finally finishing my degree in creative writing & english! 

ARTISTIC/THEMATIC INTERESTS 

literary fiction, horror, camp, kitsch, diversity, introspection, family/friend bonds (especially nontraditional ones), romance, art rock, nostalgia, technology, diy ethos 

GOALS

connect with the tumblr writing community at large! for a while i was unable to get excited about my non-work, non-fanfic related writing projects. over the past year or so, my passion’s been renewed, and i just wanna chatter with like-minded folks about my longform WIPs, my short stories, etc – and geek over other people’s work here too <3

WIPS 

Dagmar

there’s always something going down in dagmar, an insular coastal community straddling the delaware bay. pragmatic tech geek zeke omezie-fumudoh, 18, prefers to keep her head in her books and projects – deaths and disappearances were common in her parents’ home country, too, after all. when her best friend dodie dies, however, zeke has no choice but to start trying to connect the dots & face the potential supernatural forces at play. 

[this is finna be dark fantasy/horror, romance, mystery, and queer as hell! i got a lot of worldbuilding to do, but a few months ago the twist popped into my head 1st and i’ve been working backwards. i'm sooo excited abt figuring out the narrative path(s) i gotta take]

Dave & The Family Davenport

20-year-old twin musicians dorian & daria davenport are a little s club 7, a little sly stone, & a whole lotta spitfire. as the very first act signed to holliday records, 30-something producer & label founder dave levine considers it his duty to take the family davenport under his wing. they become his pet project – and eventually something more to him. 

[i’m taking this one in a literary/drama direction! thinking found family and music industry commentary vibes. idea came from revisiting big time rush and thinking ‘what would happen if you mix btr + the carpenters + prince + mtv’s making the band??’ (for the record, dave is 100% NOT meant to be a p. d*ddy analogue re: making the band, i'm mainly thinking of the aesthetics of the young artists of color featured on the show)]

Several fun essays about my personal fandom/shipping history (one is about all the diff sites i've used over 17+ years of reading/writing fanfic, another is an old-school livejournal-style ship manifesto that i plan to make into a video! etc etc)

SHORT FICTION 

blank [literary/drama, 300 wds]

fortune teller [literary/drama, 300 wds]

hothouse [horror, 500 wds]

a certain standard of care [horror-comedy/surreal/gross-out, 1k wds]

good bones (or, an exercise in letting go) [literary/dramedy, 1.3k wds]

[writing tag: scorpio the scribe]

hmu if you think we'd get along <3 i need more ppl to follow!

[ETA: i prefer to follow/be mutuals w/ ppl 18+ only, ty!]

[speedycoffeedelight]

An Animalistic Disaster

Masterlist

A.n : So I reached my main goal of the beginning!!!! 1k in both Wattpad and Ao3 !!! Lessgoo!!!!! ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

Thank you everyone who read and liked this story and gave votes and kudos!! You guys inspire me to keep on writing!!!

As for the promised QnA. I think I'll do that once all the harem characters have joined. This type of thing won't happen much after all.

Also I promise I'm working on the next chapter. (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) till it comes, here's some songs that goes with the story/ reminds me of them. Warning, I'm shit with love songs.

I'm not going to release the full playlist yet since it contains heavy spoilers. Same thing with the Oc's.

(Y/n)'s playlist

- Fictional by khloe rose.

(The feelings the reader had since she was little. Also the type of song that inspired me to write this self insert fanfic.)

- Rat by Penelope Scott

(This describes the relationship between the reader and her dad. How she feels deep inside. Also, I dunno if this counts much as a spoiler, but her dad is an engineer, so yeah. )

- W.I.T.C.H by Devon cole

(Wether someone calls her a witch or an ogre, she doesn't care. She can handle herself and that's all that matters.

And we stan a strong queen in this household)

Alastor x (Y/n)

-Never ever getting rid of me by Kimiko gleen

(You made him fall in love, so be prepared to deal with him 24/7.

Cause he ain't going anywhere honey)

Charlie x (Y/n)

- Adore by Mindy gleehill

( And here she goes, singing again. But this time it's directed towards the reader.

Poor girl can't control her heart around you. )

Vaggie x (Y/n)

- Boyfriend by Dove Cameron

(She knows she can treat you better then any man can.

And she's going to prove it )

Cherri Bomb x ( Y/n)

- Favourite by Isabel Larosa

(She's quite jealous of all the others stealing your attention. So can you really blame her for wanting to be your favourite?)

Pentious x (Y/n)

- Honeypie by Jawny

(He is determined to make you his and he won't stop till he does that.

He also can't get enough of your sweetness<3 )

Lucifer x (Y/n) [this is considering he gets chosen as a love interest]

- Checklist by Max

( What do you need? He's got it covered. He's going to spoil you rotten to have you all to himself.

The ruler of hell doesn't slack off in this area )

Husk x (Y/n)

- Older by lsabell Larosa

( I HAD to put this song here. Besides who wouldn't like an older man you could easily rely on?

This is basically reader's feelings about him.)

Angel x (Y/n)

- New side of me by Blake Roman

( He can't help but feel soft inside when he thinks about you. And it scares him.

He's never had anyone love him like you before.)

Niffty and (Y/n) [platonic]

- Sweet little psycho

(She's your very own sweet but psycho puppy.

Anyone disturbs you too much? Release her over them. :) )

Vox x (Y/n) [Will come in future]

-Criminal by Brittney spears

(He's our pathetic lovable criminal. You know you shouldn't fall for him, but what can you say?)

Adam x (Y/n) [ Will come in future]

- Genius by LSD

( Don't be fooled, he's no genius no matter what he might say. But he did make the correct call by falling for someone like you.

Someone who can manhandle and keep him in line.)

Lute x ( Y/n ) [Will come in future]

- Love like you

(She doesn't understand how she of all people managed to fall for you. This feeling should be a sin.

Yet, when she gets close to you, she can't regret it. )

An Animalistic Disaster playlist

- Can't sleep love by pentatonix

(I can just imagine the reader and Melody talking in phone like this. The reader can't decide what to do with all these feelings since all her fictional crushes have actually come to life AND living with her. She can't decide if she should act on it or not. Melody is already done with her shit and telling her to go back to sleep.)

- Bang bang by K'naan

( Okay, this is for my own brain rot. This is for everyone in the harem x reader. I can see the animation meme happening clearly in my head.

Every line is sang by different characters and when the 'bang' parts comes, a animal turns into human after getting hit by reader's love shot :)

Like-

She was walking around with a loaded shotgun - Angel

Ready to fire me a hot one - Cherri

It went- Charlie

*Sheep Charlie* BANG *human Charlie*

*Squirrel Cherri* BANG * Human Cherri*

*Deer Alastor* BANG * *Human Alastor*

Straight through my heart - Alastor

Maybe one day, if I learn to do animation.  I'll make something like this. )

Tag list: @legostars @glowinthedarkbones1150 @darifes @aria-tempest @rainbowcake1212 @luxylucylou

[schmem14]

It’s my birthday! Celebrate with me by reading my top favorite fanfic discoveries this past year. (Feel free to flail with me in DM’s!) I feel so lucky to have found so many wonderful talented friends and amazing stories! 

1. flour and flesh by foxglovetonic (nocturn) Hermione x Pansy, wc: 666 rating: M

(Mind the tags) This sapphic horror fic gripped my soul from the moment I read it and it lives rent-free in my head because of its amazing imagery and masterful use of unreliable narrator. I’ll be forever creeped out by carving pumpkins and pie (but in the BEST way, I swear!) This is the #1 reason Halloween is my fav. 

2. Usually by @lumosatnight Percy x Oliver, wc: 1k, rating: E

What’s not to love about banter, chess as foreplay, and stripping down until there’s nothing left but heart-pounding hot AF sex? This pairing is fantastic, and Lani’s writing is on point, as always, and I was incredibly impressed by the real live chess match taking place in the background. Read it, you won’t regret it! 

3. drink up, boys by @emilyrickman gen work featuring Parvati Patil, wc: 1.5k, rating: M

(Mind the tags) I URGE you give this gripping revenge story a chance! Between Parvati’s confidence and the absolute heartbreaking and empowering ode to sisterly love, this story gave me goosebumps. Emily is such a great writer, and I can’t stress enough how well the feels come through on this one. Also, give the song What It Means To Be a Girl by EMELINE a listen as you read, it will elevate the whole experience! 

4. One Woman’s Trash by @nanneramma Lavender x Hermione wc: 2k, rating: T

My friend Nan can do it all, and I don’t care that coffee shop AU has been done a thousand and one times before, THIS is the one to read! Lavender is to die for in this, and the fluff is pure, gourmet sweetness. It will have you kicking your feet and squealing by the end. 

5. Head Over Heels by @vdoshu Narcissa x Mrs. Zabini, wc: 575, Rating: M

This itty bitty fic is singlehandedly feeding my Narcissa Mommy delusion. I want her to step on me SO BAD! Ugh. Doshu packs a punch with every story, and the punchline of this one is sure to have you gasping like a beached fish. Please come scream at me about it if and when you know what I mean. 

6. Welcome, Peasants by @fluxweeed Draco x Ron x Harry, wc: 15k, Rating: E

It was nearly impossible for me to pick just ONE of my favorite fics from Dronarry fest this year, but I narrowed it down to two. Strap in for an hour and immerse yourself because the payoff is WORTH IT!  This one blends the juicy polyjuice trope with a healthy dollop of mistaken identity and a pinch of jealousy. Better yet is the twisty reveal and the absolutely smut-tastic finale that follows.

7. For I Have Found Salvation by @lumosatnight Severus x Harry, wc: 7k, Rating: E

Yes Lani, I couldn’t resist another! I feel like I have to preface this by saying I’m not usually a Snarry fan, but this filthy Priest AU fic is EVERYTHING. The dynamic of guilt and forbidden church sex (while church is IN SESSION) is so fucking delectable. I’m going to just say it and embarrass myself: Insta-Wank Bank. Yep. 

8. Nightswimming by @sweet-s0rr0w Draco x Ron (x Harry), wc: 5k, Rating: M

…Which brings me to my SECOND Dronarry fest pick from this year, and I love it so much because it’s all banter and hypotheticals. Draco and Harry are a couple, but Draco and Ron share a car ride where it comes out that maybe they’ve been considering a three-way with Ron. They don’t even fuck, but the tension of them just talking about it is too hot to handle. Bonus: There’s art at the end! 

9. Mistletoe Mojito by @amethystheart2421 Sybill x Severus, wc: 3k, Rating: E

This fic knocked me flat on my ass. This lust potion fueled one-night stand fic had me laughing and crying (from hilarity and absurdity and sadness) all at once. Such delightful writing, and the perfect example of crack taken seriously. 

10. All That Is Beautiful, Burns In The Making by @sailtomarina Narcissa x Bill, wc: 8k, Rating: E

Narcissa is hot. Bill is hot. We all know this from canon, but imagine they get together and how much hotter they are as a couple! This fic contains such delights as werewolf Bill, seduction, forbidden love, infidelity, knotting, endless refractory periods, voyeurism, rough sex, and mating. It’s not quite A/B/O but it has a lot of the elements that make it such a juicy AU.

11. A Perfect Answer by @p1013 Draco x Harry wc: 9k, Rating: E

Downton Abbey AU. Harry is Draco’s valet and the love is very much forbidden. Contains: pining, jealousy, decorum, emerald cufflinks that Draco favours, and BATHS. Something about it reminds me of Jane Eyre, though I know that’s a different time period and there’s no crazy wife in the attic. I loved this fic so much because it was a well-written AU and it brought a breath of fresh air to an old favorite otp. The angst is divine, and the ending is such a lovely payoff. Enjoy! 

[wikiangela]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @aroeddiediaz @underwaterninja13 @nmcggg @ladydorian05 thank you <33

How many works do you have on ao3?

right now it's 90! (57 of these are 911 lol)

What's your total ao3 word count?

535,450

What fandoms do you write for?

currently just 911, but I have some destiel and sambucky fics and who knows, I might get back to them at some point haha

Top 5 fics by kudos:

For a holiday (and forevermore)

I can't love you any more (than I do now)

I'd marry you with paper rings

the next best thing

There’s no way that it’s not going there (with the way that we’re looking at each other)

(they're all buddie and I just noticed that the top 4 are all over 1k kudos?? when did that happen lmao)

Do you respond to comments?

I do! sometimes it takes me a while bc i get lowkey overwhelmed lol but I always do!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

there's not a lot bc I prefer happy or hopeful endings, but I guess by post 6x10 fics? Fine and don't know what I'd do if your tomorrow never came idk lol

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

most of my fics have happy endings, but I guess I'd say For a holiday (and forevermore) 

Do you get hate on fics?

not really? got like one or two not very nice comments but generally no haha

Do you write smut?

yes I do 😁 not often and it always takes me forever but I do have two smut fics in the works (one buddie, one bucktommy lol)

Craziest crossover?

don't have any

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no, as far as I know

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

Have you co-written a fic before?

no

All time favorite ship?

buddie

(ngl, bucktommy is a veeeeery close second rn🙈)

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

there's two that have been fighting me for so long they're lowkey abandoned now and tbh I don't know if I still want to finish them? one is a 5+1 nicknames, and the other just a silly idea about eddie flirting with buck since they met but buck being veeeery oblivious lol

What are your writing strengths?

I think (usually) I'm pretty good at staying true to the characters and not making them too ooc (and I know when it's ooc, okay, I have one wip rn where I just don't give a fuck, I'm writing it anyway lol), and I can get into their heads pretty well. Also I think I'm good at the cute fluffy stuff lol idk

What are your writing weaknesses?

there's probably a lot lol - rn the one that comes to mind is descriptions probably, which is why writing fanfic where we have established characters and settings is so much easier than og stuff haha

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I don't mind it but I don't do it a lot aside from a pet name here and there bc I just don't wanna get anything wrong lol

First fandom you wrote in?

for tv shows supernatural, but before that I did write rpf which i just wanna forget about lol

Favorite fic you've written?

rn it's three:

we don't know where this is going now (don't be afraid of heights, let me open your heart wide) - my tommy pov fic <3

I'm comin' back, don't let me go - buck driving/breakdown fic

baby, you drive me wild - car smut - might not be my best but it's my fave smut lol

tags: @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @loserdiaz @evanbegins

@wildlife4life @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway

@spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks

@rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @exhuastedpigeon

@jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @theotherbuckley @daffi-990

@hoodie-buck @tizniz @bidisasterevankinard

[the-s1lly-corner]

Shut In (Eyeless Jack x reader oneshot!)

Basic plot: its really cold outside, and you urge Jack to stay in your home with you... he decides to stay despite knowing full well that he will be fine out in the freezing temperatures. You both decide to do things to pass the time and stay warm! Turns out Jack can make a mean cup of hot coco, too

Extra notes: I dont usually write fanfics, and the last one I've written was a personal one from late August... so to say I'm rusty and underexperienced is an understatement! I feel this one ended up a little.. weirdly paced imo but I think I'm still happy with the end result! Dialogue I feel I could have done better on but I'm going to be nice to myself since I mostly write hc posts so this is way out of my comfort zone.. Drafted on Tumblr then sent through google docs to pick up on some mistakes I missed, briefly reread no proper proof reading imo... lets hope this isnt a train wreck + it copied back to tumblr okay!! LMAO

Brief joke about pregnancy/making a pregnancy but its like one small snippet but I know that can make people uncomfortable + implies at least one of the characters is AFAB

Word Count: 2915

Extra Admin's note: I want to say again that I am so so happy about this blog hitting 1k followers, when I first started this blog I was originally going to use it to burn time and have something to do on the side, as well as having a place to put out my cringe ideas and hcs. I never thought this many people would be interested in my dumb thoughts, but here we are! I intend to keep writing this year, and perhaps even make more non-celebratory one shots this year? Maybe? I don't know I guess we'll see the reception on this fic!

It was the middle of the night, around the middle of January. Your boyfriend and you were holed up inside your apartment, you having locked the man up with you after seeing that it was below freezing out, as well as raining. You had to practically beg your boyfriend to stay with you for the night.

Your boyfriend, who also just so happened to be a man eating demon with tar dripping out of his hollowed out eye sockets. Your boyfriend, who was currently sitting still and staring forward, the only sound in the apartment coming from the dripping of your faucet. You had asked him to come visit you, it'd been a while... and he would never ever let you go to his cabin when it's this cold out. So here you both were now.

You pat the palms of your hands on your knees, sucking in one of your cheeks and working the flesh through your jaws for a moment. You were both technically stuck in the apartment now; you didn't want Jack to go out and risk getting sick, and Jack more than likely wouldn't want you to step out for the same reasons. So, you were both confined to what you already had within the space. You were about to open your mouth to speak but Jack broke the silence first. "You're shivering, do you want me to get some blankets?", blunt and almost robotic. He was never that expressive. "Or would you like to go to your room?" He added after a brief pause, his fangs poking just over his lip before he readjusted his mouth. You were both in the living room, sitting together on the couch; the front door to your left and a view of the kitchen to the right. You thought for a minute as your eyes lingered on the kitchen for a moment. You'd already eaten, before your partner arrived... but..

"That's fine, I'm probably going to make some hot coco," You pulled yourself up, stretching up. "Powdered stuff ooor..?" Jack mimicked you. You only shook your head, earning a disapproving look from him. "What?" You questioned, but he only dismissed you. "Why don't you get some blankets, I'll handle it," and he turned on his heel to make his way to the kitchen. "Maybe put on a movie, too, your choice." He added as his voice carried off. "Are you saying I can't cook?" You called back, following after him. No answer as he tugged out a pot. "I'll have you know-" you started once more

"Do you have half and half?" He was already opening your pantry to grab things.

"No, I don't,"

"Heavy cream? Whipping cream? Whatever it's called..." He mumbled as he placed various ingredients on the counter. Cocoa powder, vanilla, salt and sugar. You only nodded, and as he was about to begin working he paused. "Do you want anything else in it? Cinnamon? Nutmeg?" He paused and through gritted teeth, "Coffee?"

It was almost midnight, of course he would be opposed to you having caffeine so late.

"Cinnamon is fine," You watched him get to work. He measured everything out; even mixing the heavy cream with some milk to make a substitute for half and half.... was that really all it was? You weren't sure what you expected it to be, if it weren't..

He pulled his head up and stared at you. It was then that you noticed he had actually taken his mask off and set it at the end of the counter and out of the way. The black ooze dripping from his eyes was slow and posed little threat to dripping into your drink. He had a fistful of napkins on standby to dap his face dry should the flow quicken. "Aren't you going to get the blankets?"

You pat your hands on your thighs, pausing... watching him. His body had a warm glow on him from the old light bulb in the ceiling; it flickered every now and then. Under the yellowed light he almost looked healthy and alive, though there was no glint where his eyes should have been. His sharp nail tapping on the counter brought you back to the moment, blinking a few times. "Yeah.." you mumbled, defeated at the chance of making a drink for yourself stolen from you. But was that so bad?

You backed out of the kitchen, dragging your feet across the floor. Your apartment was.. a little on the smaller side so within a few steps you were in front of your bedroom door. You didn't really pay much attention to your surroundings as you shuffled through the blankets on the bed.. eventually you settled on just grabbing an arm full and waddling back to the living room, dumping everything you had grabbed onto the couch.

The house smelled of cinnamon and chocolate.. with a hint of vanilla.

Turning your gaze to the tv, your eyes scanned across the DVDs you had stacked messily. Nothing sounded good. "Is there anything you want specifically?" You called out as you settled yourself down criss cross in front of the tv and pulling all the cases onto the floor next to you. "Movie wise," You added as you pulled the first case into your hands. The DVD collection for Child's Play.. you had gotten it a few weeks ago, finding it on sale at your local store. You still hadn't popped it in to watch..

"I have.. Chucky, uhm..." You shuffled for the next case. "All the movies by the way.. I have that and.. most of the Friday the 13th movies," You called out. No answer, the only sound coming from the kitchen was the noise of a whisk gently being stirred. "I don't have Jason goes to hell... But!" You pulled out a third case with the Nightmare on Elm Street DVDs. "I DO have Freddy vs Jason," You mumbled and spread the three disks on the floor in front of you. Most of the disks you had, you noticed, were mostly older slasher movies. Still, Jack hadn't answered you. You pull yourself to your feet and trudge back into the kitchen. His back was to you, too preoccupied with the stove... He hadn't noticed you, not yet. An idea blossomed in your head, a smirk pulling itself across your lips. You steeled yourself, trying to force yourself to stop shivering.. Jack was always paying attention to his surroundings, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

You take a step forward and he still doesn't notice your approach.

Another step.

And another.

Jack wasn't the tallest, in fact if you wanted to you could rest your chin on his shoulder... and that's what you ended up doing, while wrapping your arms around his thick waist. You could feel his body seize up just a little bit against you, before relaxing. "You didn't answer, what sounds good?" You pulled your eyes down to look at the pot. Your drink was nearly finished. You view rocked as your boyfriend shrugged, still silent but the twitching of his pointed ears let you know he was listening.

"Anything's fine," Another shrug as he cuts the heat. "You're the one cooking for me, you get to pick the movie," You insisted. He paused mid-whisk, letting out a soft huff. Suddenly he spun around, his face just a few inches from yours. In the dimmed light his eye sockets seemed deeper, it's black ooze lazily dripping down his cheeks. You noticed the smudges on his face, from wiping the streaks. You briefly wondered what it was like to sleep with them, but your thoughts were cut short as he pulled a blackened and clawed hand to your hair; tucking a lock behind your ear. "How does...." He paused, sucking in his teeth. He looked almost embarrassed. "Bride of Chucky sound?"

"What? Want to study the characters again so we can dress up again this year for Halloween?" You tease. You had convinced him a few months ago to dress up with you. With him as Chucky, and you as Tiffany... It had taken some begging and convincing but you ultimately got him to agree. Although you didn't go out to get candy, you were both fine with staying inside watching movies together in costume. It was also that night you got him to watch the movies..

His ears darkened, before he scoffed. "No... actually this year I was thinking of..." He took a long pause, visibly scraping his brain for names of characters, before seemingly giving up. "Look I don't watch many movies I don't know any.. characters.." He grimaced, before gently pushing you off of him so he could turn his attention back to the hot cocoa. "We've still got nine months, more than enough time to come up with something..." You shrugged, then smirked. "Not enough time to make a Glen... or Glenda," You teased before turning on your heel. You held back a snicker as you heard Jack splutter, finally processing what you had just said to him.

"W-"

"I'm gonna go ahead and put in the disc, I'll leave it paused for you," You cut him off, still grinning to yourself as you kneeled down to do as you had said.

Soon enough Jack walked into the room with a mug, as well as a platter of cookies. "You didn't have to," You mumbled as you eyed the treats, but he only waved you off as he placed the plate and mug onto the coffee table. "You don't have to eat them, but I figured you might want a snack while watching the movie," He mumbled. You took the mug, and swirled the drink inside of it. "I hope I didn't put in too much cinnamon," Jack added as he watched you. He leaned over and started the movie.

You took a sip, smiling a little as the warmness crept in. "You did good, probably the best hot cocoa I've ever had." You offered a grin to him. "That has got to be the fakest compliment I've ever heard," Jack shot back, though you could see the corners of his mouth turning up just slightly. "Oh, I'm sorry! I believe this is the most decadent and satisfying beverage I've had ever been graced with in my life, and-" You began, only for Jack to hush you. "I'd rather you throw it on me, don't... say words like that again," He grumbled as readjusted himself into the couch. You took a sip and shrugged, "It's just absolutely immaculate," and he lightly smacked you on the arm. "I'm never making anything for you again," He snorted, before turning his attention to the movie.

You weren't going to lie, you felt a little bad treating yourself to the cookies, knowing Jack was unable to eat them without upsetting his stomach. Being a man-eating monster must really be hard. You purse your lips, and shoot a look at him from the corner of your eye. He must have been doing the same, because he turned his head to look at you. "Do you want to do something else?" He asked lightly, his grin from a few minutes ago already faded. "Do you ever miss eating.. food?" You asked before you could stop yourself. He didn't bother pausing the movie, instead he just fell silent and stared down, into the space between the two of you on the couch.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up, I know it's a touchy subject for you," You mumbled and put the mug on the table. You sucked in the air between your teeth, flicking your eyes up to the movie, before bringing them back down to your lap. It stayed like that for a minute before Jack broke the silence. "I mean... yeah, I do. But at least I don't have to eat every day like you do, means I can have more time to do what I want," He said. Clearly, he was still bothered, tip-toeing around the big.. thing about him. The air was still tense and thick, all of the previous joking gone now. It was nearly unbearable. Nearly.

"You know," Jack began after a few more seconds of silence when you didn't reply. "I've never tried cinnamon in hot cocoa, I didn't know that was a thing people did," He was changing the subject. "You haven't?" You asked, raising a brow. He eyed your mug, but you both knew there was no way he was going to take a sip.

"It's really good," You mumbled, and took the drink, "The combo, I mean," You added. He hummed, patting his knees lightly. You swirled the drink again, watching the... what was it called? Those lighter swirls in the drink.. Did that have a name?

"You've had hot cocoa before, right?" You asked. He hummed again, nodding his head. "Well.. the cinnamon makes it warm. Taste wise.. It makes it.." You took a sip and thought for a minute. "Richer, I guess? It's hard to explain," You muttered, then looked back at him. You tore your eyes back down when you saw he was looking right at you, totally hooked onto your words. "I hear nutmeg goes good in it, too.. but I've only tried nutmeg and chocolate together in baked goods," You shrugged. "You did really good with this, you know... not too much cinnamon.. not spicy, at least." You smiled. He nodded, before turning back to the movie.

"Woody, I hear people describe cinnamon like that," He leaned back into the couch, a dull pop came from his back.

"Woody," You repeated, then took a large sip of the hot cocoa. You put the mug down onto the table, and leaned into your boyfriend as the warmth crept and settled into your bones. You weren't even paying attention to the movie, your mind was now occupied with how tired you were. Your eyes slipped up to the clock on the wall, It was nearly one in the morning. Had it only been an hour since Jack walked himself into the kitchen?

You lean deeper into Jack, not caring about his body's natural chill. His clothing still smelled a little like the cocoa from earlier.. "Gotta invest in some cologne, you smell nice like this," You mumbled into his arm. "The cinnamon?" He asked, not looking down at you. "No.. the cocoa, I mean cinnamon would be a nice touch... but you don't seem like a sweet smelling guy, do you?" You muttered. "Are you already getting tired?" Jack asked, and he leaned over you to grab the remote, pausing the movie. You muttered, the heat of the hot cocoa doing way more than you expected on the tiredness you didn't notice you had. "A little," You shrugged, "But we can still try to finish the movie," You offered, but he shook his head. Of course he would, as much of a hard ass or party pooper he came off as, he was going to make sure you were going to get your rest.

You put your hand in his, the one that had the remote.. you unpaused the movie. He paused it, and you unpaused it again. It kind of kept up like this before Jack conceited and kept it playing, although he did lower the volume.. The subtitles were already on, though. "I win," You smirked up at him, before crawling into his lap. You placed your head on his chest, pausing when you felt him stiffen before relaxing against you. His heart beat for a moment before settling to its barely there rhythm. For a minute you thought about asking about his heart, as far as you knew he explained himself like he was becoming a walking corpse... how does that work?

You decided against it, you already asked about him earlier.. and besides, your mind was already beginning to blank as Jack reached to the side of the couch, and turned the lamp off.. It was dark now. It was still raining, you could more clearly hear the drops outside now that the movie was turned down. Plus, Jack was running his fingers through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp. It wouldn't be long until you finally gave in and fell asleep.

"Are you going to still be here in the morning?" You asked, melting into his chest as he hummed in response. "Plan on it, I still need to clean up the kitchen," He added as he curled your hair around his hand. "It'll still be cold in the morning," He added, "I need to make sure you bundle up before you go out for work," He added. "I'm not that dumb," You muttered and lightly slapped his arm. You swear, if he still had his eyes he would have rolled them.

"How do you see? I know you're not.. a normal person, but," You blurted out, lifting your head. He pushed your face back down, shushing you. "Sleep," He ordered, before loosening his hold on you a bit so you could get comfortable. It wasn't an order but it may as well have been with how your body started to loosen into him within the next few minutes, quickly snuffling out your curiosity and questions.

He'd still be here in the morning, you could pester him then. After all, it's what he signed up for when the two of you started to date one another..

[pedroscurls]

Always Here For You

Character(s): Frankie “Catfish” Morales and Reader (female, second person POV)  Summary: Frankie comforts you as you cope with your grief. Word Count: 1,193 Author's Note:  This is part of @pedrostories 1k celebration. Prompt quote is: “Alright baby, alright baby. Come on now.” and fanfic trope is Hurt/Comfort. I also just want to express my gratitude for allowing me to submit this even past the deadline. This was very cathartic and very close to home (with the recent loss I've experienced). I know I said I was taking a writing hiatus, but this was something that had been in the back of my mind for a little over a week now... Warning:  mentions of grief

Frankie knew that you were struggling with the recent loss of a loved one. The news came suddenly; you had gotten a call at four in the morning and when he heard the tone of your voice shift, he knew that something was wrong. He didn’t know how to comfort you, how to tell you that eventually, things will get better, because he didn’t know for sure. He had been more acquainted with loss and grief more than any person, but seeing you in this much pain… Frankie felt helpless. 

You barely ate. 

You barely slept. 

Every night, you cried into his arms. 

And every night, Frankie didn’t know what to do. He tried to make you smile, make you laugh, but nothing he did worked. He hated seeing you in so much pain and not being able to do anything about it. 

Grief was crippling, Frankie knew that. The fact that someone could be gone in a second and the world would continue on like nothing happened, it was frustrating. 

And you had always been so positive, always looking at the brighter side of things, even when it didn’t go your way. You were always a bright light in Frankie’s life, but the news of your loved one’s passing had dimmed that light. 

And tonight was no different. You were sitting on the couch in sweats and one of his hoodies that were obviously too big on you. The hood was over your head and you were mindlessly watching whatever was on the television. You hadn’t even turned your head to look in the direction of the front door opening. 

“Baby?” Frankie called out, removing his boots and his hat to set on the coffee table. 

You looked up at him and Frankie felt his heart break. Your eyes were red, puffy, and you were quietly sniffling. 

“Hey,” you whispered, stretching your arms out for him. Frankie bit the inside of his cheek before he sat next to you instead, pulling you onto his lap. His arms snaked around your waist as your arms moved to wrap around his shoulders. You buried your face against the side of his neck and felt tears building in your eyes once Frankie’s hand rubbed your back. 

“How was your day today, hermosa?” 

“Rough,” you whispered shakily. “I’m glad you’re home though.”

Frankie nodded and pressed a kiss to your temple. He continued to run his hand along your back in a comforting manner, which he found you leaning further into him. He could hear your quiet sniffling and could feel the tears begin to stain his shirt. 

“Did you eat today?”

You just shook your head.

“Baby,” Frankie said quietly. “How about I order us some pizza? We can have a movie night, eat some food, cuddle…”

“I’m not hungry,” you replied, but your stomach said otherwise. Both you and Frankie heard your stomach rumbling and you pulled back enough to look up at him with soft eyes, biting your lower lip. “Don’t listen to that.” 

“Sounds like you are, hermosa,” he said with a smile, gently poking your abdomen. “What about breadsticks?”

You shook your head. 

“French fries?” 

You didn’t respond, but instead just kept your eyes locked on his. 

“Oh, so French Fries might be something we can work with.” 

“And chicken nuggets?” you said with a hopeful tone. 

Frankie smiled, gently leaning in to peck your lips. “I’ll get you anything you want as long as you eat something, hermosa.” 

“Can I come with you?” you asked, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. 

Frankie’s eyes lit up. It had been a little over two weeks since you found out the news and since finding out, you didn’t want to leave the house, which Frankie understood. “You sure?” 

“As long as I’m with you, I’ll be okay.” 

Frankie smiled and moved a hand to cup your cheek, wiping away the fallen tears. He stared deeply into your eyes and leaned in to press a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. 

“You know I’m here for you, okay?” 

“I know,” you whispered shakily. “I know.”

“And no matter what, you don’t have to go through this alone, hermosa.” His thumb caressed your cheek and his eyes bore into your own. It was overwhelming, the amount of safety you felt just being in Frankie’s presence. 

“It’s just–” you whispered, tears beginning to pool around your eyes again. “I don’t know how to cope with this, or move on from this and I just–”

“The pain may never go away,” he said honestly. “And there’s no timeline for these things, so if you want to cry, you want to scream, you want to just let out your emotions, then do it, hermosa. I’m here” 

“But it just hurts so much and–” A breath caught in your throat and you brought a hand to wipe at your eyes, but Frankie moved both hands to cup your cheeks, wiping the tears from your cheeks. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “It’s okay, hermosa.” 

You looked into his eyes, searching for comfort in the depths of his brown orbs and immediately felt yourself breaking down all over again. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders tightly, burying your face against his neck as you let out a quiet sob. 

“Alright baby, alright baby,” he whispered, holding you tightly against him as well. “Come on now,” Frankie said. 

Frankie could feel your body trembling against his own, his shirt beginning to get wet with the stain of your tears. Your sobs filtered the living room and Frankie shut his own eyes, hoping and wishing the pain away. 

“I’m here, baby,” he said quietly. “I’m here.”

You continued to cry against him, taking comfort in his strong arms wrapped around you. The pain of losing a loved one was nothing like you ever experienced before; it was debilitating, crippling, and every time you thought about what happened, your heart just broke all over again. 

But Frankie was always there to pick up the pieces. 

To hold you.

To whisper sweet reassurances in your ear.

Frankie was your home, your safe place, and you didn’t realize how badly you needed that right now. 

When you felt yourself slowly begin to calm down, you pulled away to bring the sleeves of the hoodie to wipe away at your eyes. You looked over at Frankie and noticed him staring right back at you with soft eyes. 

“I love you,” you whispered.

Frankie let a small smile line his lips. He leaned in and pecked your lips, pulling back enough to rest his forehead against yours. “And I love you, hermosa.” 

Just as Frankie was going to say something, your stomach growled once more. Louder than earlier and he saw a small smile line your lips. He felt his heart soar at the sight and when he heard you let out a quiet giggle, Frankie finally felt like things were going in the right direction. 

“So, fries and nuggets?” he teased.

“And a milkshake?” you asked.

Frankie smiled. “Anything you want, baby. Let’s go.”

[ae-cow]

Hearts & Havoc

#1 of The University Series, Jake Sim/Sim Jaeyun

Warning: Swearing, possible spelling errors and I think that’s all, do tell me. NOT AN ACTUAL STORY THIS IS JUST AN IDEA OF MINE. These are all works of fiction with nothing to do with the idol's actual life. I do like some feedback. If you ever feel like "Hey this is very offensive." do tell me.

Pairing: Jake x fem! Oc

Summary: Jake writes an article on Why we put titles on Women and not Men? Well… it was mostly a write-up on how beautiful Noh-Hart Chanel is.

Word Count: 1k Words

A/N: This was so fun to write. Based on an old fanfic I wrote back in 2022 and also based on a YA Novel, Not Here to Be Liked. We love feminism!

Written: 4 July 2024

University Series Masterlist Here

Masterlist © ae-cow. Do not claim, steal or repost. All rights reserved

Noh-Hart Chanel is a Veterinary student who as soon as she stepped foot at HYBE University was dubbed Campus Beauty. A title that man no boys of HYBE decided to use to label her.

Noh-Hart Chanel, I mean come on, naming your Children after Brands like Versace Or Yves is honestly a good move. People will say how they like Versace and others will be like "The brand or Noh-Hart Versace."

Her parents also decided to have their surnames combined for their Children. Being a Wasian, her name not only stands out but also her facial features.

Literally, all her parents' good genes went to her, beautiful almond-shaped green eyes with Cupid's bow lips that looked like Cupid made a match made in heaven which he has. Long luscious dark hair that could slap me out of my senses and a model-like height from her dad.

I do think she's very very pretty there's no denying that but why is there a freaking competition on how girls look? You don't see boys having articles on their looks just maybe baseball.

Because of this article, the whole of Hybe Uni thinks Jake Shim, likes Chanel.

-

“URGH! I TALKED ABOUT WHY IS THIS A COMPETITION AND EVERYONE IGNORED IT AND JUST FOCUSED ON THE IRRELEVANT THING I WAS TALKING ABOUT,” Jake clumps his hair in frustration

"You do realize that you talk less of a quarter about the competition and more about Chanel?" Sunghoon points out as he stares at his friend

"I don't like Chanel, just think she's gorgeous, I call you gorgeous and no one thinks wrong.”

"That's because you went on to talk about her features as if you stare at her face every,” His friend said

"I have no choice I sit across her,” Jake said

Sunghoon chuckles "Your statement isn't defending you, it's more of proving other people's case that you have a fat crush on her."

He stood up abruptly "But I don't!"

"You don't have to proof it, it will go away I'm sure of it.”

-

"So... you wrote a whole article on me on HYPE with us?” Chanel questioned

"First of all, I did not post that, someone did! And I don't like you Chanel, I just wanted to clarify that,” Jake said

"You sure?" She tilts her head, She knows that this small move can make a man go feral especially when they find a girl attractive

He coughs "Y-" His voice cracks "Yeah, sure of it."

"But those words were written by you right?"

He sighs, nodding

"I think you're gorgeous, there's a reason why you're dubbed Campus Beauty though I do not support that the students here decided to call you that,” He explains

"However me finding you attractive does not mean I like you, I don't even know you aside from word of mouth."

-

Chanel feels frustrated by the superficial attention her looks receive rather than her academic achievements.

“I’m a veterinary student for fuck sake, I study animals, and microbiology and am even on the dean's list!”

“W-where is this even going?” Jake asked, confused

“Yet I am known for my looks, which has its perks like how a hallway full of students would see me and instantly move out of the way for me, or how I'd get free food,” Chanel continues

“Again where is this going??” He repeated himself

“I want to bring down the patriarchy!” Chanel suddenly stood up, gaining attention from others around

“If I'm campus beauty then who is campus handsome? If some girl gets called a slut then what about the guy? He’ll get complimented for getting it.”

“And I do too much, I'm asking for it and if you did too much people will try to give an excuse and I'm done with it!”

“Alright then!” Jake too stands up, extending his hand, for her to shake “LET'S BRING THE PATRIARCHY DOWN!”

-

Chanel and Jake were teaming up to host a campaign, it's a collaboration between both their clubs, The feminism group and HYBE with Us.

They are now in charge of painting the banner. Jake takes a chance as he sees Chanel concentrating on writing the words “BRING THIS HYBE HOUSE DOWN.”

“Jake what the fuck!” Chanel looks at Jake, angered

“What?” He pretends to be clueless

“You just put paint on my face, I look like a clown” Chanel said

“It's fine,” He said, continuing with his side

“Oh yeah I'm sure, my pretty face looks fine to you,” Chanel said

“Hey remember I wasn't the one who posted that,” Jake said “But I remember you were the one you typed that!”

“You!-“ and a peck appears on his cheek

Chanel laughs hard “That look on your face! You were about to kill me and then-“ Chanel stopped when she noticed how close he’d gotten, he was wiping her nose with a tissue

“And then what??” He looks into her eyes

“I- nothing, nothing,” She grabs the tissue, trying to ignore the blush plastered on his cheek

-

“People are going to talk, I, Chanel made out with Jake Sim, a guy, you won't get the same treatment, I'll get looks, disgusted looks while you will get proud looks as if you achieved something.”

Hello everyone, you might know me for that article I posted about Chanel the campus beauty, but her appeal goes beyond just her looks. She’s an advocate for gender equality and is involved in various feminist causes. She’s deeply passionate about bringing down patriarchal structures both within and outside the university. Chanel leads a campus organization focused on women’s rights and social justice, using her popularity and influence to drive change.

I've gravitated towards her compassion and would like to use this platform to show everyone that HYBE with Us and the feminist group will be teaming up to organize a campus-wide campaign aimed at raising awareness about gender inequality and promoting policy changes within the university.

Some of you might also be reading this after finding out what had happened between the two of us. But there's a reason why my typing this out. If Chanel gets called a slut and what does that make me? A slut too. I’ve gotten praise whereas Chanel got slut shamed. This is the point of why the word feminism was created. It is about gender equality.

-

[theskeletonprior]

Do you have Baldur’s Gate 3 brainrot? Do you love your OC so much and wonder why the fanfic isn’t writing itself? Do you like to support queer writers trying to make ends meet (that’s me!)? I got you, buddy.

My commissions are open, so come tell me about me your Tav! (And their love-interest/favored companion, et cetera. Bring me your unromanceables!) I especially like to write rare pairs, hurt/comfort, and polyamory. If you’d rather the tale be companions only, I’m also happy to do that. While I don’t mind writing intimate scenes, I don’t accept graphic NSFW requests, non-con, or underage. When in doubt, just check in with me before you donate! Pricing starts at $20 CAD for a tale of 1k words. (I have updated my prices. Pro-rates for writers is up to $0.08 per word, so this is still a steal!)

Price List (CAD)

1000 words for $20 1500 words for $35 2000 words for $45 Pro rate for writers these days is $0.08 per word, so my commission rates are an absolute steal. Our dollar is also a little bit trash here in the land of maple syrup and poutine or whatever, so if you happen to trade in eagle bux, even better for you! My commissions help me pay for things like sertraline, funding for my ongoing effort to be reunited with my beloved husband, the occasional good meal, and resources for my work as a professional Dungeon Master (I can’t believe that one either). So hire a dead guy, and help support a queer creative. I also donate any tips to Gaza Funds.

If you’re looking for a longer work, feel free shoot me an email at theskeletonprior@gmail.com and we’ll chat. Words are what I do.

Work Samples

You can read all my Tav Tales to date here on AO3, but here are some of the highlights.

To Live in Infamy (2k Durgetash)

The morning, Enver is lucky enough to have pants on. The Slayer snaps his chains as it comes screaming into the daylight, barrelling out of the bed. The force of Infamy’s awakening sends Enver rolling onto the floor, narrowly missing being crushed by the bedframe. He’s tangled in their sheets, and already lamenting that they’ll need to be replaced. This silk had come all the way from Waterdeep. That’s his first thought, even with his heart pounding in his ears. He struggles to free himself, but the Slayer isn’t coming for him. There’s the acrid smell of half-cast sorcery, and then the screaming starts. When something warm and wet splashes onto him, soaking through the sheets, Enver hopes it’s blood. The crunching of bones and the smell of bright copper gives him a little hope that it’s not something worse. It wouldn’t be the first time a would be assassin emptied their stomach or their bowels in terror before the Slayer. Enver unrolls himself at last, leaning back on his elbows to enjoy the show, even as the blood—and thank goodness it is blood—soaks through his nice sheets. The mess quite nearly defies description.

Callus (2k Tav/Astarion/Halsin)

“Oh, my dear, what a miserable turn of events.” Astarion kisses Lukan’s hair gently. “I could probably catch up with him, you know. Plenty of good alleyways in this end of town to drag him into, get him acquainted with my nice new boots. Sturdy enough to kick a man entirely to death.” “You got new boots?” Lukan can’t help a watery smile, desperate to redirect the conversation. He doesn’t want Thindulion killed. It had been bad enough to bury his mother, and as much as he wants to hate his father for abandoning them, he hates the thought of being orphaned even more. And now he knows he has a sister, and he couldn’t put her through that. “That’s beside the point,” Astarion says. “I’m asking if a little spot of patricide might cheer you up.” Lukan shakes his head. “It’s not like that,” he says. He wants to try to make light, to play along with Astarion’s flippant turn of phrase, but it’s just too heavy. It doesn’t go unnoticed. “I might have another idea, in that case,” Astarion tells him. “Why don’t you have a sit on the bed, get those boots off, and I’ll be back, having done precisely no murders, I promise.”

In the Spider’s Parlor (3.5k Tav/Kar'niss)

She peers over her shoulder at him and then rolls her head, exposing more of her neck. Suddenly his need, that wretched appetite, is not as hideous as it has been, he feels no disgust for what he wants, for the curse that makes him want it. There’s only this moment. He nips lightly, slipping his arms around her, embracing the warmth. He reaches out with his forelegs, feeling her, holding her securely as he had done that first time. He’s heard the sound she makes when letting blood, and now he knows it for what it is. Pleasure. His purr rumbles low in his chest, but he never bites, lapping softly at the thin rivulet of blood that wells from where he’s nipped her, one delectable drop at a time. Solinore reaches up, one hand tangling in his hair, relaxing in his grip. “What you ask of me, is yours,” Kar’niss says, applying pressure to the nick he’d made to stop what little bleeding he’d caused. “You sure?” she asks, playfully. “I could ask for another ride on your back. Or…” He knows what that smirk implies. “What you ask of me,” he says again, “is yours.”

[juiceastronaut]

Writing Commissions Open! (Dm for payment details.)

Hi everyone! Opening commissions for the first time, let's see how this goes! Any fandom is accepted, give me a character description and a dynamic and I'm off to the races. Word count for requested fanfic cannot exceed 5k words (I'm only just starting out and don't want to overload myself until I'm aware of my limits.)

Fandoms I've written for and are provided as some examples below include: Dungeon Meshi, Mob Psycho, Owl House, Helluva Boss, Fate Series, Castlevania.

More info under the read more:

The price will be sliding scale,

1k words: $15

2k words: $25

3k words: $30

4k words: $35

5k words: $40

Will Not Write: Any ship with minors/adults, minors in a sexual context, incest, rape/noncon (can be negotiated if its within the context of a BDSM scene), beastiality, and anything with bigoted language in a sexual context (ie. raceplay).

I reserve the right to refuse a commission if it makes me uncomfortable.

Special Interest Characters That If You Comission Me For I'll Be Super Happy: Kabru (of Utaya), Falin Touden, Laois Touden, Toshiro Nakamoto, Reigen Arataka, Serizawa Katsuya, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, Lancelot, Saber, Siegfried, Hunter Wittebane.

Some samples of my work (links to the fanfics will be below)

Example One:

He remembered…the first time he had a slice of cake. Standing at about three feet tall at five years old, the servants had fed him extremely basic, nutrition-dense meals, more interested in teaching him proper etiquette with spoon placement than cooking him good food. Then, as a demonstration of how to slice, divvy out, and eat dessert, they brought out a chocolate truffle cake, with coconut sprinkles on top. He had never seen anything like it before, the colors of the cake practically saturated in comparison to the glob he had been used to. And they let him eat it, the wonderful flavors practically melting on his tongue.

He wouldn’t eat his other food after that, throwing an absolute hissy fit on the floor, demanding the cake again, chucking the food back at the servants and sobbing his eyes out. His father actually had to be called for that one, and the chef was instructed to start cooking him more complex meals. “You jump started his palette, it’s to be expected that the Ars Goetia have refined tastes in food.” Only the most wonderful of meals graced his table from that moment forth, and his tantrums stopped, eating happily through his lessons once more. Stolas could not for the life of him figure out how those events produced the same feelings inside him.

Example Two:

This stupid bird. If it had just flown away when Hunter told it to. Found literally any other witch that wasn’t the nephew of the person explicitly hunting creatures like it. The wood of the box slightly darkening as droplets trickled from his face down onto it. He hated this stupid thing, hated how he’d grown to like it being around, its dumb chirps in the morning as it asked for breakfast, the way it listened to him when he talked to it about the books he’d been reading. He didn’t want to lose it.

He found himself already shaking his head.

Example Three:

“Gotta tell you Serizawa, this kind of gave me whiplash. I thought you were gonna list the fact I…well, I thought you were angry.” “I’m not angry. Well…I’m–” Serizawa sighed, the words failing him. “Woah, wait, are you upset? Look, I know it wasn’t the most lucrative pay in the world but it was legit all I can afford. I’m not paying much more to myself than–” Serizawa dipped Reigen, spinning him around, which succeeded in silencing him. He swung him back up again, trying not to notice the flush on his cheeks, “I know, I know…just…” Get it together, we’ll know and do better. “It’s not just–” It just don’t come natural to think…that you’d want me for me. “--This is just what I need to do right now,” Serizawa whispered. Reigen nodded, looking off to the side. I swear, I’m really trying. “No and I…I understand that, like I said…” Reigen looked back at him, smiling, “You don’t have to justify it to me. I knew I couldn’t keep you forever.” Oh I’m sorry, I promise, I’m doing my best. Serizawa looked into Reigen’s face, and felt in his grasp the slight shake of his frame. The song ended and Reigen attempted to push him away. But Serizawa caught the corner of his sleeve, pulling him back. His mouth gaped open and shut like a fish. This is how he knew that Reigen didn’t feel the same way about him, he would’ve been so much better at getting the words out than Serizawa. “I–” I just haven’t learned how to be human as you are yet.

Example Four:

Laois started looking around while Toshiro worked, Kabru going back into their cave to change into fresh clothes, picking up his rock again afterwards, going up to check on Toshiro. He looked up for a moment, then went back to work. Kabru laid down beside him, holding his rock up, watching the light bounce down his arms. He sighed and stretched out, putting the rock down, resting his eyes. “You two seemed to have fun,” Toshiro spoke. Kabru cracked an eye open, speaking through a yawn, “What do you mean?” Toshiro looked at him, then back at his journal, “I…forgive my forwardness, but you two left here fully clothed with armor and then you came back with no armor, half-undressed, and soaking wet.” Kabru held up his rock again, “We found these rocks while we were at the stream.” “I see…” “Why do you ask?” Toshiro shook his head, “No question, just an observation. I’m glad you two had fun.” Kabru tilted his head, feeling his brain trying to click into that, analyzing Toshiro’s response, trying to decipher its meaning. He decided against it, however, curling up on his side and closing his eyes again. “You should–” Kabru yawned, “--speak up more. No one's gonna bite you if you do.” Toshiro paused in his writing, “Oh?”

Example one, two ,three, four, and some more for good measure

Let me know if you're interested!

Edit: First commission finished! Read it here

[bakerstreethound]

Madness or Madly in Love?

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes x reader

Warnings: 18+ implied/slightly spicy times, slight angst, marking, and teasing

Summary: When Sherlock notices you refusing to give him affection for a couple of hours, he grows worried, knowing it’s because he forgot to let you know of his whereabouts the past week. Now, he has to pay his penance, asking for your forgiveness. 

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound​ (Do NOT claim, repost, copy or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 1k+

A/N: I haven’t written a spicy Sherlock in a hot minute, but it was nice to get my writing muscles working again and turning back to fanfic mode. Thank you all for sticking around with me, this semester has been rough to say the least. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Graphic by @firefly-graphics​ Comments and reblogs are most appreciated! 

Sherlock sighs, his cool demeanor faulting with your questioning eyes on him. He’d been bored, utterly bored considering you’ve ignored his need for a kiss or any affection for the past couple of hours. He knew it was foolish of him to act in such a manner, be reduced to almost begging your forgiveness.

Apparently not notifying you of his whereabouts had caused you to worry, but he supposed you did so as he was held at gunpoint and threatened, but you obviously didn’t need to know the other details. Mrs. Hudson had revealed too much to you regardless.

Now you stare at him, glaring daggers, watching him swallow as he turns toward you, pleading desperation in his eyes, asking forgiveness. However, the rest of his face is stoic, not matching the message in his eyes.  

I’m sorry. I should have known better. Stay.

The last request is hard to ignore. Of course you want to stay, you were glad it wasn’t him with his head on a pike delivered to your doorstep.

“Do you know how worried I’ve been?” Your voice cuts through the air like ice, frigid, hard, borderline unfeeling, yet filled with subtle desperation of your own. You take a step closer. How you want to cup his face in your hands, brush your thumb along his lips, rememorize him, make sure he is here, safe and sound.

He closes the distance, the rift between you smaller, your gaze locking on to his. You can’t look away too mesmerized already drowning in the depths of the emotion concealed there.

“Exactly how mad would you be if I kissed you?” A hand falls to your waist, and you find yourself falling, despite the anger, the worry the familiar rhythm of his heart beckons to you.

“Right now?”

He dips his head, breath hot along the shell of your ear, his smooth baritone beckoning. “Yes.”

“Extremely, utterly, devastati-” you don’t finish your sentence, can’t before his smell envelops you, bringing you in his captivating sphere, your hands reaching to cling to the lapels of his suit jacket his lips insistent in their quest. He doesn’t give you a moment to retaliate, tasting the soft desperation, a quiet whine escaped from your lips and he smirks, pulling you impossibly closer. You body responds in kind, aching from his absence. Here you feel at home, comforted, wanted, and needed.

How long had it been? Too long. Oh, far too long. The taste of his lips is an addiction you can’t find yourself breaking, falling over and over consumed by him. Your arms wrap around him, finding his curls tugging gently, causing him to gasp into the kiss, and you groan in kind when he grips your butt, before liftng you in his arms, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist while he pins you to the wall.

You groan at the contact his chest heaving, pressed against yours, curls messy and in disarray courtesy of you. You reach out, wrapping your hand around the naps of his neck, tugging the curls residing there gently as you kiss him desperately, pulling him impossibly closer as he adjusts, pushing his thigh between your legs, a soft whimper falling from your lips at the contact.

“Did you like that? Of course, you did, that’s right.” His rich baritone courses through you, setting you on fire, making you melt with each and every word.

You answer in kind, tugging his lips, letting your action speak and he responds, pulling you back to him with every kiss, setting your body and heart on fire with each gentle yet demanding touch. You let the feelings consume you, relearning the way your body molds into his as he picks you up once more, his lips not leaving yours as he strides down the hall before placing you on the edge of the bed. You feel the wake of his absence when he closes the door, needing him, an invisible thread tying you to him, unbreakable.

His eyes glide over your form, watching intently, his fingers working on the buttons of the forsaken button down shirt of his. It’s agonizing but you remain there, ever the attentive audience, your tongue gliding over your lower lip as his beautiful form is revealed to you.

You want to lavish his body in kisses, the planes of his chest littered with the marks only you can give. He will wear them with pride, whether he likes it or not. You are his alone to claim and you, his temptress can’t wait a moment longer.

“Come closer, Sherlock.”

“Impatient are we? I thought you were displeased with me.” He walks over to you, shirt long forgotten, your eyes utterly transfixed as he stops right in front of you letting you drink in the sight.

“Oh I am terribly mad at you, my boy. But perhaps you could change that…”

He chuckles, kissing your cheek, his hand caressing your jaw lovingly. “Let me make it up to you…please,” he hisses at your fingers running along the planes of his chest, down further to his hips tracing along the line of his trousers, a hint of promise tied in with a warning.

“Pay your penance then, my love for I enact a heavy toll.” Your lips brush along his, nipping softly before he crawls on top of you, pulling you to the center of the bed, stroking your sides, attacking your neck with fervent kisses.

He groans, moving against you, discarding your clothing as he continues worshipping your body. “Hell, been so long…”

You smirk, nibbling his lip after he finishes kissing along your body, sighing at the sensations. “”Got lots of catching up to do, yes,” you fall into him not caring the sounds you make. All there is is him. Nothing else matters or ever will.

When you break away panting, gasping for him, clinging to him your reason for living, the air you breath, you can’t help but beg for more, enjoying the sweet kisses he gives as he brings you to the precipice of pleasure, his eyes shimmering in both determination and adoration. Yes, this was a long awaited apology and you aren’t letting him go.

******