#another wip that i immensely enjoy

[maethologies]

hockey player xaden…

hockey player xaden.... aka the most self-indulgent thing i've ever written???? here you goooo:

an incomplete fight scene!

They circled each other, fists raised, gloves and helmets off. Xaden’s hair stuck to his forehead, and his smirk was obvious on the jumbotron. The other guy was bigger, taller, but Xaden looked cocky and arrogant, like he always did, as if he already knew the outcome of the fight.

Violet hated the way her breath caught when she looked at him. 

Fighting was stupid. She’d told him that, the first time she’d seen him fight, and she’d said she couldn’t understand why two relatively functioning adults could act as dumb as cavemen, but last time Xaden hadn’t been smirking like that, and he hadn’t crooked his fingers at the other guy to tell him to come closer, and he certainly hadn’t looked so alive.

God, he was so fucking hot.

[...]

His knuckles were bloodied. That was what Violet’s eyes decided to focus on, the red around his hands, the torn skin and the bruises already forming. 

Xaden flexed his hand, making the skin stretch against the knuckles, and Violet’s mouth went dry. She heard him chuckle, and when she managed to drag her eyes away from his hands to look at his face, she saw the world’s largest shit-eating grin, directed at her.

“Like what you see, Violence?” Xaden asked. He’d said it like he knew the answer already. 

That wouldn’t do. 

“I hope your hands hurt each time you try to grip your stick,” she said.

Xaden’s grin widened as he leaned back against the wall and gave her a look-over. “Maybe you could grip it for me,” he said, and his thighs parted slightly open. 

have some... banter???

“Unbelievable,” Violet huffed. “Do you have any idea what cocaine does to your brain?” 

Xaden raised a brow at her. “Do you have any idea what playing hockey does to your brain?”

[...]

“Frankly, I find hockey players to be rather appalling,” Violet said. She took a swig of beer. Then, she tilted her head, observing him, and grinned. “Appalling. Spell that.” 

Xaden rolled his eyes. “How stupid do you think I am?” he asked, but as he watched her open her mouth, he rushed to add, “Don’t answer that. It was a rhetorical question.” 

When Violet mouthed the word rhetorical back at him, widening her eyes in fake shock, Xaden sighed and tipped his head backwards to stare at the ceiling. His throat was exposed, and Violet couldn’t help herself from watching his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

and, because i'm me, smth about grief:

Her father had loved hockey. Everyone in her family loved hockey, liked the physicality of the game, the hits and the expertly timed hip-check, liked the sound of it, the ping of a puck hitting the crossbar, they liked the show, the flashes of brilliance, the sacrifice and the blood, too. Her father had loved all of that. 

But he’d also loved the crowds. The thousands of people coming together to yell and boo and cheer and sing. The ovations, the moments of silence, the moments when sports merged with politics and with culture.

Miracle on Ice and a rapturous crowd counting down the seconds while Al Michaels on the broadcast said, ‘Do you believe in miracles? Yes!’; Crosby’s Golden Goal on home soil; the Summit Series; the moments that mattered, as her father always told her, repeating these pieces of history to Violet over and over again, unusual bedtime stories that had her dreaming of ice and goal horns, yes, Violet’s father had loved hockey.

Even today, Violet couldn’t watch a hockey game without the crowd making her eyes fill with tears.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: Happy Monday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You can’t hear your father’s voice anymore. You stand at your door, listening for any sign of life. It’s not him you want to avoid, though he’s rarely happy to see you, but his company. You’re pretty sure they left but not entirely. You feel asleep working on your diamond art. 

You can’t wait much longer. You have to pee so bad that you can feel it in your throat. It’s late. You’re sure you’re alone. 

The door hinges scrape like they always do. You hate that noise. You tiptoe down the hall, towards the yellow blare of the kitchen light. You turn into the bathroom and shut the door. You sigh as finally you get your release. 

You flinch as you stand up and pull your elastic waistband over your hips. The hollow metal tink of a metal can sounds from outside. It could be your dad. That would make sense. He probably got up to get water or another can of beer. 

You wash your hands and go back out. You head towards your bedroom without a look in the other direction. The grizzly pronunciation of your name draws you back. Your eyes round as you scuff to a halt. 

You turn to face the burly man at the end of the hall. “Did I wake you?” Sy asks. 

You gulp and shake your head. He’s one of your dad’s coworkers from the shop. He comes over with a six-pack and they sit on the porch to enjoy it. Or they linger in the kitchen and play cards. 

As the shadows shroud him, he looks even bigger than usual. You’ve only ever seen him from a distance. Usually he’s sitting down. Maybe you just never noticed how gigantic he truly is. 

He flips on the hallway light and you blink. His dark beard adds to the squareness of his jaw and his shaved head has dark stubble in a deep peak on his forehead. His blue eyes sparkle despite his naturally fearsome posture. 

“I just got your daddy to bed,” he says. “He should be just fine. You check that he’s on his belly tomorrow morning.” 

You nod again. He does the same. He doesn’t appear frustrated as your father. He seems almost intrigued as he stays there, scratching above the collar of his tee. 

“You okay?” 

You nod. 

“Checkin’, ya know? It’s late. Dark can be scary, huh?” 

Yes, your head bobs in agreement. 

“Right, well, you have a good night. Let me know if ya need anything in the morning. I put my number on the fridge.” He taps on the door frame and turns away. 

Most of your dad’s friends or the same. They don’t pay you much mind. You prefer that. You’re not one for chatting. That fact irks your father to no end. You just stay out of his way, and his friends’, and hide in your room. 

You wait until you hear the front door. Then you go to lock it as Sy’s footsteps clamour on the porch. You stay there, his headlights shining through the window as his engine rumbles to life. The gravel crunches as he reverses out and steers off into the night. 

You go around and shut off the lights. You take your time in the kitchen tidying up the beer cans. You wipe the counters quickly and rinses the dregs off your fingers. You leave the light on so you can find your door. 

You shut yourself in and go back to bed. You leave the small lamp on next to it and turn your back to the glow. You yawn and close your eyes. 

Another night. It’s a bit sad that the best part of your day is going to sleep. Your waking hours aren’t very interesting. When you’re not doing the chores or the cooking, you’re in there, busying yourself with something meaningless. Nothing you do will ever make a difference; not for you or anyone else. 

That’s why your dad hates you so much. You can’t blame him. There’s no jobs out there for someone like you. You tried and all you got for it was embarrassment and a new slew of insults. 

You cross your arms over the top of the blankets and sigh. When you lay in your bed, you can be anything. Behind your eyelids, you can’t paint pictures more gleaming than those etched in the small plastic diamonds. You could be a princess or an actress or even just someone normal. 

What keeps you awake, isn’t your dreams. It’s the dread of the inevitable. Once you fall asleep, you’ll have to wake up again and face bitter reality. 

🩶

Your dad’s snoring rocks you through the walls. The house is small. You hear a lot more than you like. Often, you leave the old Casio radio playing on low to gloss over the cricks and cracks and groans. 

You get up, knowing better than to wait until he does first. If you have the coffee waiting, it will appease a fraction of his temper. With a hangover racking his skull, he won’t be in the best of moods. 

The dead heat of summer roils through the house. Your dad has an AC unit in his bedroom window but it’s not big enough to do much beyond his door. He keeps that closed most days anyways. On the cold days, he also keeps the small electric heater locked away with him. 

You change into a pair of loose linen capris and a plain tank top. You don’t go anywhere so you don’t dress for any occasion. Most of your clothes are akin to pajamas, or nothing more than. 

The machine is old and dingy. No matter how many times you descale it, it keeps that yellow stain in the plastic. You snap the lid shut and flip the red button so it lights up. Dad says once it stops turning on, he’ll waste money on a new one. 

You get yourself a glass of water and wait. It’s early still but his alarm won’t let him sleep in. As it goes off, you keep busy.  

There’s a slam and a grumble. Your dad stirs violently and his door hits the frame as he swings it open. He lumbers out as you pour him a mug. He belches and ignores you. You put it on the table as he turns down the hall and goes into the bathroom. He leaves the door open and you hear his stream piddle into the toilet. 

You ignore it and turn back to your task. Breakfast. It’s the same thing every day. You do his eggs, sunny side up, toasted Wonder bread, and six strips of bacon. The smell soon has your mouth watering. The chair scrapes the floor loudly as he drops into it heavily. 

He slurps loudly behind you as you put together his plate. You set it before him and he wiggles the empty mug at you. You take it and pour him another from the carafe. 

A car door snaps shut. You wince. You didn’t hear an engine, but you’d been too swept up in cooking. You give your dad his refill and go to check the front window. 

“Is it that mailman already?” He hollers. 

You shake your head, even knowing that he won’t see.  

“Don’t know why I fucking ask,” he snarls. 

You watch Sy jump out of his truck. While the axle is high, it isn’t very treacherous for a man his size. He kicks up gravel as he steps around the door and shuts it. You back away as he heads towards the house. 

He clomps up the steps, thump, thump, thump, and you jitter as he approaches the other side of the door. You wait until he knocks before you answer it. You peek out through a single inch of space. He grins. You don’t think he’s ever smiled at you. You assumed he never did at all. 

“How’s the old man?” He asks. 

You blink and let the door open a bit more and give thumbs up. As good as he’ll ever be.  

“That’s good,” he drawls. “So...” 

His eyes drift down, just a little. You squirm. Your shirt feels thinner as you stand there. Your nipple poke into the fabric and you hug yourself awkwardly. You remember you asked your father for a bra once. He laughed and you never brought it up again. You try to stick to loose clothing. 

You point over your shoulder then make a gesture as if you’re holding a fork and scooping. 

“Having breakfast, that’s nice.” 

You don’t have enough for him. You’ll wait until your dad’s at work before you sit and have your single slice of toast and peanut butter. 

“I already ate, in case ya worried,” he assures. “Was just comin’ to make sure I didn’t give him too much sauce.” 

He laughs. His booming humour makes your flinch. Your brows pop up and he quiets. 

“Sorry, I know, I’m a loud one, huh?” He snorts, “I don’t mean ta scare ya.” 

“I told ya, she don’t say shit,” your father growls into a yawn. You step back and the door opens all the way as you press yourself to the wall. He saunters forward in his boxers and tank top. “No point goin’ on like that when she probably don’t even understand.” 

“She understands me,” Sy avows confidently. “After a night with your drunk ass, it’s a breath of fresh air to have someone not yammer on.” 

“You’re the one brought me the piss,” your father retorts. 

“And you didn’t complain when I did,” he counters. “Wanted to see if ya were going to make it in today. Just in case I gotta finish up Dubeau’s clunker.” 

“I’ll be there,” your father sneers. “Why don’t you go and get it all warmed up for me?” 

“You’re a prick, Don,” Sy huffs. 

“What? No, you can’t see it,” your father covers his crotch and you blanch, looking away embarrassed. 

“Don,” Sy rebukes, “there’s a lady.” 

“It’s my daughter, dammit. She’s too stupid to get it,” he spits. “Hey, you, go on, kitchen’s a mess.” 

You nod and avoid looking at the other man out of embarrassment. Your father is crass, sometimes even at your expense. And he knows you can understand him. He must. You do everything he tells you too. 

“Well, then, I’ll see ya round,” Sy calls, though you only realise he’s talking to you as your dad changes the subject to some tail pipe. 

You stop and peek back. Sy watches you over your dad’s head. You give a wave, just a tilt of your hand, then continue into the kitchen. 

You can’t help but be thankful for the interruption. Sy’s boisterous intrusion offered a buffer between you and your dad’s hangover. You wash his plate, cutlery, and mug, before you move onto the pots and pans you used to cook. 

You can hear your dad barking outside at Sy. The other man responds with a deep rumble. Are they arguing? 

The front door swings open, “hey, girl,” you dad whistles, “more coffee. Bring some for this lump.” 

You take the order in stride. You don’t have enough for two cups, maybe half of one. You start a new pot and wait. When it’s finished, you dry your dad’s mug and pull out another. You carry both to the front door and elbow through. 

You hand one to each man as they stand by the porch railing. Your dad takes his gruffly, spilling some on your fingers, but Sy thanks you. 

“You didn’t even ask if he wanted sugar or cream,” your dad chides. You give him a startled look. He snorts. “How’d ya do that, huh? Maybe blink your eyes real big.” 

You frown at his mocking. Sy exhales and you back away. Now you have two men annoyed with you. You glance over at the bigger of the pair as he stares at you. You should’ve thought of you. Coffee is bitter, it’s why you don’t drink it. 

You point to his cup and he shakes his head, “coffee’s fine,” he insists, “I’ll have something sweet later.” You nod and retreat. You turn your back to them and step inside. Before you close the door, you hear Sy, “you know I take my coffee black, Don. No needa to give the girl a hard time.” 

You shut it before you can catch whatever snide remark your father tosses back. You know he won’t take kindly to being told what to do, especially if it’s to do with you. Or because of you. You’ll hear it all later, you’re sure. 

[thehauntedetheral]

Request-

Um, I don't know if you make requests, I'm sorry if you don't. But I've always been curious about, how would Yandere bafam react to a supernatural darling? Like, a demon.

You don't need to respond or anything, thank you for your attention.

Yandere Bruce x Maneater Demon Reader

Requests are open!

You and Bruce recently got married. It wasn't for love. It was an arranged marriage Bruce parents set before they died and as to respect them he decided to follow their decision.

Bruce and you were only married on papers and infront of public eye. You two were distant. Living in different rooms, rarely seeing each other which means seeing each other only while passing the corridors.

You came from a wealthy and educated family just like Bruce. You observed how he wasn't home at night and mostly out till morning.

You would ask alfred about it but got nothing. You were a curious cat and one day tried to follow Bruce but got lost in some shady dark place at middle of night due to his fast speed.

You were trying to find where you were and get back to home when you saw a drunk young men coming towards you.

"Well well what do we have here?" The drunk man said with a sick smile while laughing. There was no one around you other than this men. You were all alone in a shady place having no idea where the hell in Gotham City are you as you were from another city.

If this would have happened to you a few years ago you would have been shit scared praying to God for help but not now. Infact you were feeling sorry for the poor bastard.

"I suggest you to leave me alone for your own safety" you said in a calm voice. While he laughed like crazy at you. "For my safety? Are you insane bitch? Whatever I like insane women they are kinky" he said rubbing his hands together and coming towards you. That's it. This sick asshole deserve it. You thought.

When the man stands right infront of you. You tilt your head making your eyes starting turn red, making the man scared and screaming "What the fuck?"

"What happened? You liked insane women, right?" You said smiling sinister while your face and body started transforming into your demon form. You attacked the man and started tearing, rupturing him and eating him like the maneater you are while his blood drip down your neck and his screams feeling like a soft melody to your ears bringing you immense pleasure.

After devouring him up you look up and saw Batman standing infront of you a few metres apart looking at you with an intense look. You knew it was your husband Bruce. It was like you can identify Bruce in any costume. Might be one of your demonic advantages.

You turned back to your human form blood all spread over your mouth dripping down your neck while Batman/bruce looking at you with a shock confused look.

"Don't worry I won't eat you"you said wipping your lips with your hand then licking the blood on your fingers.

"I know" you heard his deep voice.

"And yeah he was a asshole. I only eat bad people and the one who annoy me" you said standing up blood covering your clothes.

"How?" You heard his deep voice.

"How I become this? Well long story hubby will tell you some day"you said going towards him. "He wasn't tasty" you said pouting generously hurt that he wasn't delicious.

You were a demon but why does Bruce feels like you are a goddess not demon. He should be scared but it only made him more fascinated by you. Well after all he was also a freak only of a different kind.

Requests are open!

A little Drabble About them :

For more yandere reading:

[vesanal]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊The 23rd Day of Writemas₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Holy crap, 23! 23(really 21) days that I stayed consistent on and delivered a new piece of writing to all of y’all. Wow! That’s absolutely crazy to think about. It’s truly a wonder that I even stuck to it after a week. I might’ve skipped a few days but I always delivered something, and I just think there's just something so beautiful about that. Like, I can't even right now. Once again, thank you so much to our amazing host of the event, @agirlandherquill!! This has been one of the most fun things I have done with my writing so far, thank you! Let’s get onto this! Here you can find the invitation post and here you can find the prompts for today! Now onto one of the last two writemasses for the year :(

Prompts used:

Dialogue: "One day, the purpose you serve shall be greater than this." + "Darkness exists without the light, but the light needs darkness to shine, light relies on another, but the dark stands alone."

Setting: The charm of a smile

I have missed Perci so much after the half a week(ish) that I haven’t written for him…so here he is back again! Genuinely, I enjoy writing in his POV a lot. Not that I pick favorites or anything. He’s just so interesting!!

Read about the WIP here!!

Hope y’all enjoy!

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

So many people. All in one room. Each head being another soldier shoved into the castle room. All were there for one purpose, hearing all about the announcement the glorious Queen had made to them. Every face was in complete shock at the horrors that were just revealed to them. It was official. He was back. The Bone-Binder was behind all of the disappearances and dead set in his way to get more, to get whatever he wanted. That part Perci did not know. But the numerous possible motives alone made his knees start to give out. He desperately tried to digest the information all at once without fainting.

Beside Perci, was a Queensman, the one that he had been placed under, referred to only by his title and family name. The man stood tall and firm over him, solemnly Based on his lack of reaction to the news, Perci knew that he had already been debriefed on the news beforehand. Way before any of the younger and much more lower ranked soldiers in the Queen’s army got wind of this.

Perci turned all the way around to face the imposing man to ask him a question, trying to keep loud and clear to not reveal his immense fear that wracked his brain, “Sir, what’s going to happen? I thought we were at peace? What happened to the covenant? Are we doomed?”

The Queensman shifted his gaze down from his mighty, armor-clad self and looked at Perci right between the scarlet eyes placed on his panicked face to speak to him, "The man was not put out by the covenant, unfortunately. Darkness exists without the light, but the light needs darkness to shine, light relies on another, but the dark stands alone. That is why he is back."

”What do you mean, Queensman Hyde, sir? How much danger are we in? How much danger is Pytharios in? You must know, sir!” Perci fumbled out of his mouth, more fearful in this moment than ever before.

“I cannot speak everything I know. Nor can I know everything to speak on. But, danger is always present, even if we cannot see it always. But, it is more present now, more than ever before. We must do what we have to do to stop the darkness from taking over the land. And before it takes all of the good people who just want to survive. Even if we can’t prevent it all. We must fight like we don’t have a home to go back to, with tooth and nail, because if we don’t there won't be.” 

Perci swallowed his response. He was right. There was no point in refuting it. It was all said and done, they were the ones who had to protect the people. He had to do what he must, and use his talents for the greater benefit of Pytharios, to outshine the darkness. Even if he…Perci closed his eyes and shook the thought out of his head. He must not think about such things right now. 

"One day, the purpose you serve shall be greater than this." Perci whispered under his breath to himself, not really ever knowing when and if it’ll ever come. If only there was another way to have his talents be heard and used, and not just in some war.

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

(PLEASE tell me if you wanna get added to a tag list here because I genuinely don't know who to tag lol. I'll edit this and add you in!! <3 )

TAGLIST SO FAR: @sunflowerrosy @seastarblue

@thebookishkiwi @viridis-icithus @corinneglass

Our wonderful host <3 → @agirlandherquill Have a lovely day everyone!!

[butyou-callmewhenyourebored]

Reading & Leeds AU Imagine

Summary: You meet four teenage lads at Leeds Fest in 2007 who change your life forever.

Warnings: Swearing. Vulgar language. Small shite section of smut. One use of y/n near the end. I nearly used my own name but then you can just imagine your own x

Author's Note: Here is the Leeds Fest AU that I've been going on about since the idea popped into my head the morning after I went to Leeds nearly two months ago. I don't think it's very good, definitely not my best work but it's finished I don't have to think about it anymore! But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Now got to find motivation to finish my other WIPS that I've abandoned!

Word Count: 6.4K Words

You thought you knew what proud was; there were many moments in your life that you could recall where you felt immense proudness for the four men that made up your best friends. The day they rang you to tell you they had signed their record deal, the day their first EP was released, the day their debut album went to number one, when they sold out Madison Square Garden, the day they first played Reading and Leeds, the first time they headlined Reading and Leeds. The list was endless.

But there was something about the way you felt today that surpassed all of that. Here you were at the side of the main stage at Leeds Festival about to watch your boys headline the festival that started it all. The 1975 was ringing out across the field, the kids were screaming and your heart was hammering in your chest in time with George’s drums as he kicked off The City to the delight of the crowd.

A celebration of the album that they dreamed of making when you met them. A celebration of the album that soundtracked not only the lives of their fans but yours and theirs too. A celebration of the band and every beautiful thing they had achieved in the past ten years surrounded by those they loved and those who loved them the most.

You had told Matty that you were unsure you’d make it today due to a work situation that had popped up which had sent him into a tizzy this morning because you had never missed a performance of theirs at Leeds, despite being at Reading with them just the night before but you couldn’t cancel this important meeting in London called by your manager late last night when you returned from Reading and you weren’t sure if you’d make it in time to see them back up North.

“But you have to be there darling. This is our thing!”He had huffed, as you reached for him and pulling him into your arms as you went to say goodbye.“Leeds is ours! Not Reading. Leeds! You have to be there.” He huffed.

He made your heart hurt as his lip quivered as he watched you hug the other boys and the thought of him being upset made you even more determined to make sure you were side of that stage in time for the opening bars of The City.

You watched as he ran about the stage, singing his little heart out. The kids screaming the words to The City back at the band. George had already sent you a smirk from his seat behind the box knowing fine well Matty would lose his shit when he clocked eyes on you. You looked out towards the audience; the excitement on their faces as they sung every word before turning to look back at your boys. Your hand immediately reaching to touch  your box tattoo that sat on your thumb (matching with your friend behind the drum kit) as your heart soared with happiness for them. 

When you looked up you found Ross with his eyes on you. A soft smile on his handsome face, your eyes locked on to one another for a brief moment that was abruptly interrupted by the roar of applause from the fans when the first song came to an end. 

Bringing your hands to your mouth you cheered as loudly as you could; your laugh a sound Matty would recognise anywhere had him snapping his head in your direction. The moment he clapped eyes on you; he was beaming! His eyes bright and his smile even brighter knowing his best friend had made it. Pointing at you with a cheeky grin, he pulled the mic to his mouth quickly so you could hear him.

“Fucking knew you’d make it darling! This one is for you!” He announced as the intro to M.O.N.E.Y (one of your favourites) started up to more roars of noise.  

2007

Leeds Festival was directly sewn into the DNA of your friendship with the group of teenage boys who went on to be the band The 1975. Having being the place you had met all those many moons ago when headlining the festival was only a dream for them. Now they were about to headline the festival for the third time in four years and proud didn’t even cut it for how you felt for those boys.

You weren’t sure how your life would have turned out if you hadn’t met them the summer of 2007 or if you had simply set up your tent next to somebody else but you were forever grateful for your cousin and “friends" (at the time) for dragging you along because your life was enriched in every aspect because of them.

Trekking through the fields to find your camp sight was proving difficult when your cousin and his mates were pissing about and collectively had about two braincells between them. So you took it upon yourself to march ahead and find the nearest available space and dumping your tent and rucksack on the ground to reserve the spot.

“Oi dickheads! Over here!” You shouted towards the direction of your idiot cousin.

Waiting for him; his two mates and the girlfriends of said friends, who I guess you could call your friends too to make their way over. You took a look around at your neighbours for the next four days. Next to you was a group of teenage boys who were setting up their tents, the one setting up their little camping stove looked up at you at your outburst. God he was pretty you thought as you took in his casual appearance.

“You mind if we grab this spot?”

“Not at all love. Matty.” He held out his hand as he introduced himself.

Shaking his hand; you introduced yourself with a polite smile before shimmying your tent out of it’s bag as your cousin and his pals all appeared, dumped their stuff on the floor before announcing they were going to explore. Therefore leaving you to look after their shit and to attempt to put up your tent by yourself. After ten minutes, several failed attempts and numerous curses towards your absent cousin when the rest of your neighbours appeared.

The tall, dark and handsome one introduced himself first.

“Hi, I’m Ross. You need a hand with that?” 

When you turned to look at him; he was wearing jeans and a hoodie and a soft smile on his face. Nodding at his offer, you explained about your useless cousin and that you didn’t have great hopes for the weekend given that he had already fucked off.

“Don’t worry you can chill with us. They’re pretty useless too but we get by!” He chuckled; nodding in the direction of his mates. “That’s Adam, but we call him Hann and that’s George.” He grinned as you waved at his equally cute mates.

It was as simple as that. You barely spoke to your cousin that weekend. Just let your friendly neighbours cart you around the festival, getting drunk with them and letting them hoist you up on their shoulders as you watched multiple acts that weekend. During your down time, you sat around the campfire and got to know one another. You found out they were from not far from you in Manchester, they were all around the same age, they were all single apart from Hann. And they found out that you really did hate your cousin’s mates and you were newly single after your boyfriend of two years cheated on you and that you were hoping to go to uni to study music.

Giddily telling you that they were all in a band together as you revealed this information; you listened to Matty ramble on about what he wanted to do with his best friends and where he wanted the band to go in terms of their career and you couldn’t help but watch him earnestly as he spoke so passionately about it. Leaning on your knees; you rested your face in the palm of your hands as you listened intently, wrapped up in the jumper Ross had leant you as the evening grew cold with a smile on your face.

It was refreshing to listen to a teenage boy talk with so much passion about something instead whatever shit your cousin and his mates were chatting shite about, you couldn’t even stand to converse with the girlfriends it was that bad. You think you’d have let him pull you around this muddy park and talk your ear off all night that’s how much you enjoyed his company.

The last night of the festival; off the back of the giddiness of watching the Red Hot Chilli Peppers with the boys and screaming your favourite lyrics back at the band from your spot upon George’s shoulders. You giddily jumped into Matty’s arms when you dismounted the drummer and let him slip his hand in yours as you all made your way back towards your campsite.

You lost the rest of the boys at some point within the masses of people; so you took your time making your way back, swinging your arms between one another and spinning each other round. You were so happy! You arrived three days ago in a bit of a mood if you were being honest that your brother hadn’t been able to come with you and you were stuck with those imbeciles but the boys in your neighbouring tents truly had made your entire experience worth it.

So when Matty pulled you to a stop as you neared your respective tents; George’s laugh could be heard from where you had stopped and swept a piece of fallen hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek in his hand with a soft mutter of, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” Before leaning down and closing the gap between the two of you. You melted into him.

When his lips connected with yours; you immediately reciprocated his actions, allowing him to pull you in close and kiss you like you were the air he needed to breath. You weren’t entirely sure how long you were kissing in the middle of the campsite though but you pulled away giggling, beaming brightly when you saw Matty grinning back at you. Feeling brave you pushed yourself up to peck his lips again before pulling him towards your destination, past all his friends who were hooted and hollered when they caught onto to where you guys were off to but you didn’t care because you wanted reckless, you wanted to feel something, you wanted fun.

And ohhhh was Matty fun!

He was gentle in the way he brushed your hair from your face as you kissed down his stomach before pulling his already hard cock out. His grip tight in holding your hair in a ponytail so it was away from your face as you kissed the tip before licking a stripe underneath all the way from his balls until you enveloped the tip in your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks you took him in as he groaned underneath you, his moans encouraging you to continue as you let him continuously hit the back of your throat.

It wasn’t long before his grip tightened in your hair and he was cumming in your mouth; swallowing everything he gave you, you pulled off his cock with a pop before he was attacking your mouth with his own as he dived on top of you.

“God going to be thinking about your mouth for years sweetheart.” He mumbled against your skin before returning the favour.

2013

It had been a good several years since your last visit to Leeds Festival but thankfully it hadn’t been that long since you last saw the boys you met in the neighbouring tent during your first time there. After you packed up your tents the next morning you vowed to stay in touch with them, exchanging numbers with all the boys and promises of drinks when you were both home etc not really expecting much of it because they were teenage boys.

A hour after you returned home, your phone buzzed as messages flooded your inbox from Matty and George, Ross & Adam respectively although they weren’t as persistent as Matthew. You met up with Matty the next weekend, he drove up to see you in Manchester and you made out in the back of his car like the horny teenagers you were. You never slept with Matty during your brief time together but you both got very acquainted with one another on the couple of occasions you did meet up alone.

It wasn’t long after that you decided you were better off as friends and you didn’t mix business with pleasure again! Much to Matty’s disappoint after all he was a man and they only think with their cocks anyway. You continued being friends, you went to their gigs (even when you were the only one there), they visited you at uni, they celebrated your first big writing gig, you celebrated the release of their EPs. You celebrated everything together no matter how big or small.

You truly were the best of friends so when they rang you one afternoon whilst you were in the studio writing, you couldn’t even get out a “Guys you’re on a speaker, I’m just in the studio” before they were all screaming down the phone about their news that they had been asked to play at Leeds.

“That’s fucking insane! I’m so proud of you. Congratulations!”  

“You have to be there babe! We can’t do this without you!” Matty screamed down the phone.

“Yeah we can’t play Leeds without our number one girl can we?” Ross’ voice could be heard next, at a normal decibel, obviously.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Is what you told them and you stuck to your word as you watched Matty pace nervously before they were about to step onstage to a large crowd of people eager to see them perform.

“Matty.” You called out for him as he chewed his thumb nail, ignoring you. “Matthew!” You  raised your voice loud enough to get his attention finally on you, “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been buzzing all week to finally perform at Leeds. What’s changed?”

“Nervous.”

Your heart stopped as you took your friend’s nervous appearance in as you stopped in front of him and grabbing both his hands in your own. “I’ve never known you to be nervous ever. These people are here to see you, they’ve chosen you over any other tent or stage. They want to see my four best friends because you’re fucking brilliant, okay?” You told him firmly, squeezing his hands supportively, hoping to get through to him.

“Okay.” He smiled softly at you.

“Now what can I do to help with these nerves of yours?”

You asked innocently (of course) but Matty’s eyes lit up; a smirk dancing across his pretty features before lowing his gaze to his crotch. Pulling your hands from his in disgust you looked at him disapprovingly. “Eww gross. I’m not blowing you!”

“Baby please.” He whined; nipping at your waist as he attempted to pull your body into his own and holding you against him.

Looking over your shoulder; you cast glance at the other boys who were watching the interaction. Hann rolled his eyes at you, Ross was shaking his head as he sunk back his beer. George merely smirked; shrugging his shoulders as if to say it wasn’t a bad idea.

“If it takes care of the nerves.” George spoke.

“Ohh I’ll blow all of you then shall I?” You sassed back.

“If you’re offering?” George grinned.

“G don’t be fucking gross. I’m not touching any of you!” You laughed shortly. “Just do some tequila and get out there before I leave before you get the chance to even pick up a pair of drumsticks!”  You threatened.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stood side of stage and watched as the boys were belting out the tunes to an enthusiastically drunk crowd who were loving life. Ross turned to look at you during chocolate; a look of pure disbelief that the hundreds strong crowd knew every single word. You shook your head with a chuckle, teary eyes and a bright smile because you absolutely could believe they would know every single word because your boys were fucking brilliant and they deserved every single second of it.

As the set came to a close to a rapturous applause; Matty turned to catch your eye with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen before running towards you and jumping into your arms and gripping you so tight, you thought you’d be catapulted backwards if it wasn’t for Ross holding on to both of you. A high squeal leaving your lips as Matty assaulted your face with kisses like an excited puppy dog before pressing his lips to your own. 

You were so proud of him you didn’t have it in you to scold him for it.

2019

The noise that came out of your mouth when the boys told you they had been asked to headline Leeds Fest 2019 can only be described as unhinged! Probably wishing they had told you over face time, Adam the unlucky sod who happened to be stood next to you the moment you found out and nearly had his arm ripped out the socket as you jumped up and down with pure excitement before pulling him into the biggest hug you could muster before jumping a top of George and pressing a lingering kiss to Ross’ cheek before you launched yourself at Matty and squeezing him so tight like it would be the last thing you ever did.

You partied hard that night, celebrating everything they had achieved in order to get to headlining that one place that you all held so dear to your hearts. They say people hold sentimental places that remind you of loved ones close to them, it just so happened that; that muddy field just outside of Leeds was what meant the most to the five of you because it’s where you found one another. It’s where you finally felt whole once they stumbled into your life.

So when Matty drunkly proclaimed “We’ve got to have you with us sweetheart! It’s tradition. You’re our good luck charm!” Loudly down your ear, whilst draping himself over your shoulder in an attempt to stay standing.

Not that you would say no but who were you to ever deny your best friend’s wishes. Especially when they were finally getting to do the one thing they told you they wanted to do together when you first met them all those years ago and the fact they wanted you by their side meant more than anything. 

And here you were backstage at Leeds fest waiting for your best friends in the entire world to go and blow the socks off the festival. You were stood next to Matty who was fidgeting so much it was starting to concern you how nervous he actually was about the headlining slot. Slipping your spare hand into his; your other was wrapped around Ross’ as he conversed with Hann, you pulled away from the bassist so you could talk with the singer more privately.

Pulling Matty away from their crew; you took his hand softly, rubbing your thumb back and forth across the back of it in hopes of soothing his nerves. Matty didn’t say a word but he couldn’t stand still. You pulled on his hand tighter and towards you so you were in each other’s personal space.

“Darling what’s wrong?”

“Just fucking nervous. A lot of people out there.” His nervous chuckle reaching your ears before he started chewing on his thumb nail. 

Slapping his hand away from his mouth, you pulled on both of his hands tightly and made sure that he was looking right at you as spoke.

“When has that ever stopped you going out their and being brilliant before, ehh? You have wanted this for so so long. For as long as I’ve known you. You deserve this so much babe, more than anyone else I know. Do you want to know a little secret?” You watched his curls bounce as he nodded at your words. “When I met you, you told me all about your plans for the band. Told me you were going to headline Leeds Fest one day and in that moment I knew that I liked the shit of you! Thought it was so hot that you were so driven and so passionate about something. And look at you now. Three number one albums. Biggest band in the world and about to do the one thing you told me you were going do when we met twelve years ago. All those people out there choose to come and see you because they love you. I love you.”

“You think I’m hot?”

“That’s what you took from that?” You rolled your eyes.

“It’s what I do best!” He shrugged; pulling you into his arms. “So you going to blow me after this too?” He whispered saying in your ear; as he hugged you tightly.

“You’re so fucking annoying!” You pulled out of his embrace, “You’d be fucking lucky Healy! I’m more likely to blow Hann than you again babe!” You threw him a smirk; so he knew you were joking about his best mate.

“Wait, who’s blowing Hann?” George asked; appearing with Ross and Hann with what could only be impeccable timing.

“Me! Told Healy I’m more likely to blow Hann after your performance than go near his cock again!” You told them casually with a shrug and throwing Adam a wink as the guitarist shook his head with an embarrassed chuckle. “Just a little pep talk and Matthew was being Matthew about the situation!”

“Well if you’re offering up blowies! I’m always down!” George threw his hand up like he was volunteering with a massive grin on his face as he nudged Adam in the ribs who also had a stupidly large grin on his face as they teased you.

“You’re all so fucking annoying which is why the only person I’d be considering to blow is Ross because currently he’s the only one with manners! Now fuck off and blow the socks off the fans!”  You grinned; shoving them in the direction of the stage. Throwing your own arm around Ross’ waist, Matthew’s around your own as you all ascended on the stage, your heart pounding as you watched them walk out to rapturous applause. The feral screams growing louder between each song and you knew that you had never been prouder of anyone in your life than your best friend’s living their dreams.

2023

You had never loved George Daniel more than the day he turned round and introduced you to his new girlfriend because you gained a best for life in the absolutely wonderful and insanely beautiful Charli XCX. You loved her plain and simple! Never was a more selfless girl; you needed anything and she was by your side and offering you her hand, you needed a hype man she was the girl for the job or you just needed a little retail therapy and a bottle of wine, Charli would be at your door ready to go so when it was announced that she was going to be playing Leeds Festival just as the boys were about to embark on their new era. You knew you would be by her side cheering her on and going an absolute feral for that babe of woman! And when the boys were announced as the replacement headliners you could have burst!

Charli was set to perform her set just before the lads were so you knew your evening was going to be chaotic but you couldn’t wait but when she asked you to be by her side and during your favourite song. As flabbergasted as you were by the offer, you couldn’t really say no. When would you ever get the chance to perform at Leeds Festival again? Never!

But it was the way your best friends eyed you from side of stage; clad in an identical leather outfit to Charli’s that left nothing to the imagination. You felt a large calloused hand weave it’s way into your own and squeeze tightly, whispering a soft; “You’ve got this darling.” Before pressing a kiss to your temple just as Charli announced your entrance just as Rina’s verse of Beg For You was about to start.

“I want to introduce you to my best friend to the stage for the next song. She’s a bit shy so please be nice but she’s fucking incredible. Welcome to the stage y/n!”

What happened after you stepped on stage was all some sort of blur, you couldn’t really remember all that much apart from the video that Matty (and the rest of the band) recorded of you from the side of stage, the boys all screaming as you ran off stage and jumping into the nearest pair of arms, which just so happened to be Ross’. The adrenaline that coursed through you then seeped into watching the boys’ set and into the after party. Where you and Charli were necking back the tequila like it was water and had you dancing on the tables and grinding on anyone you could get your hands on. 

Nobody was safe from you and Charli’s feral behaviour that evening as you celebrated your friend’s wins and that included your best friend who you had taken to making out with, pulling him into a several kisses that seemed to get more erotic as the night went on much to the shock and then immediate thrill of your friends as they squealed and cheered on your behaviour every single time like you weren’t potentially jeopardising fifteen years of friendship with Ross just because you were on a high and feeling a little giddy. 

You were also a woman with eyes!

Something nobody was doing the morning after as you all travelled back to London with your tail between your legs and pounding headaches. Attempting to sleep it off on the drive home, you rested your head against Hann’s shoulder and tried to block out Matty’s talking, something that you were usually quite good at but to no avail when you felt like you were in about to slip into a tequila induced coma. 

By the time you got back to London and to your respective locations; you felt yourself being nudged awake before being gently pulled away from Hann who sweetly pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as Ross got out of the van before pulling you sleepily into your apartment building. No words were exchanged between the two of you as he unlocked your shared apartment or whilst he made you both a cuppa. You couldn’t decide if it was because he was just as horrifically hungover as you or because of what transpired between the two of you the night before and didn’t know how to act around you now because you had well and truly fucked everything up.

You never spoke about it. Just carried on as normal just as you and Matty did fifteen years prior and you thought you had done a pretty good job at acting normal too. You carried on sharing your flat and cohabiting as if it didn’t happen and then he went off to America for the start of At Their Very Best. Then once you were reunited on his return home from tour you thought that everything would be fine but it seemed that your emotions or seemingly your hormones were supercharged and all the lingering touches and sweet exchanges that usually came with your relationship had all come to a head about two weeks before they were due to headline Leeds fest again.

Whilst the boys had been on tour and doing the festival circuit during the summer you had taken to dating again. You use the term dating very loosely you had been on a handful of dates with one guy, a producer friend of Charli’s. It had been a few weeks since you had seen him due to the busy nature of your careers but you were supposed to be heading on another date with him tomorrow and you were ready to take it to the next level. 

Stood in front of your full length mirror you admired the intricate white lace of the lingerie that donned your tanned skin wondering if Patrick would like it or not when your bedroom door burst open. Not hearing his heavy footsteps approach as you stood in next to nothing; you jumped in fright, as an also topless Ross was now looking at you with a startled expression on his handsome face.

“Babe have you seen my favourite ju … jumper” He stuttered as he stopped and drunk in your appearance. “Ehhh why are you? Why ehhh? I mean why?” He was gesturing towards your lingerie clad body.

“I have a date tomorrow.” Your voice quiet but Ross heard it; your eyes just as wide as his when you took in his own appearance. Grey joggers, bare chest, hair tied up in a bun and the bastard cursive tattoo of your initial, that still makes your stomach flip every time you see it, etched into the skin near his left collarbone.

Ross simply nodded in response, not knowing what else to say. Noting that as his eyes travelled up your legs, over the tiny bit of delicate fabric that was covering your modesty, up to how your tits sat gloriously in the white lace, he noticed it. He noticed as you stood in the best set of lingerie he’d ever seen on anyone ever, that right there balancing in between your tits on a dainty gold chain was the necklace with a small ‘R’ on it. 

Without another word said between the pair of you; he turned with a curt nod of his head without getting his answer knowing fine well that it would be somewhere in your room. But he had plenty of other jumpers he could wear. He just needed to just get out of there before he made a tit of himself. Heading straight back to his room across the hall, he paced his bedroom floor in hopes of getting the image of you stood in your underwear out of his head before he got a problem, not knowing that across the hall you were staring at his retreating figure unsure of what to do.

Picking up your phone you sent an apologetic text to Patrick to let him know the date was cancelled before chucking your phone amongst your pillows and marching across the hallway. Just as you reached up your arm to knock; Ross’ bedroom door was ripped off its hinges and stalling you, both of your chests heaving as you came face to face. Neither of you choosing to cover yourselves up in the moments you were apart.

Looking up at him; you caught sight of the gold chain he’d been wearing recently sitting against the chest hair that littered his toned chest before your eyes drifted to the left. Your heart tripling in speed knowing you were etched on his skin forever. Ross’s eyes immediately went back to your tits, not in a weird way even if they did look glorious in the white lace but the golden ‘R’ that sat between them.

Returning your gaze to his face; you weren’t entirely sure how long you were staring at each other before you surged towards one another in a flurry of pent up tension as you pawed at one another. Your hands immediately gripping at his hair at the nape of his neck, causing him to groan into your mouth. His hands gripping your ass as he pulls you flushed against him. Your mouths pressed together as you snogged like it was the last thing you guys would ever do before Ross was slamming his bedroom door and throwing you on the bed and staring at you like you were the best thing he had ever seen. And you were.

Your night of passion with Ross happened two weeks ago and whilst he had gone back to work leaving you at home and to do your own job. You hadn’t stopped thinking about it. It was affecting your studio time and you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself. You brushed past one another briefly whilst he nipped home to quickly put a wash on in between packing again before heading to Reading and Leeds. But you didn’t speak to one another in the van on the way down. Opting to talk with George about a new track idea he had been thinking about and he wanted your opinion on how to set it up lyrically.

When you got to Reading. The boys were rushed off for a quick sound check whilst you milled about backstage, getting drinks and greeting over artists you knew from work so you didn’t really get the chance to to talk to him. Then they were on stage. Then it was the after party. Then you were hungover and telling a sad looking Matty that you weren’t sure you could make it due to a work thing and sending them all on their way as you tried not to cry at the sadness in your best friend’s eyes as he looked at you like a sad puppy from the car window with pout on his face.

As you were sat in your meeting about an important contract working with an incredible artist on her next album. You caught yourself completely zoned out and thinking about him again. Over the course of all the the times you found yourself thinking about your night with Ross over the past week; you tried to figure out if it was because it was just because the tension had finally snapped with living under close quarters again after your multiple kisses or because it quite literally the best sex you’ve ever had or because under all of that, it was your Ross.

Your Ross. Your sweet best friend who helped you out any and every situation that you found yourself in, the person who hyped you up and celebrated your wins with you, the person who surprised you with your initial tattooed onto his skin because he just loved you so much he wanted you with him forever. Who then turned round and told you he never wanted you to feel pressured to do the same so gifted you the most beautiful gold necklace with his own on, you’ve never taken it off.

The person who when he come home from tour; buys you flowers as a welcome home surprise and displays them on your dining room table. The person who buys you little nicknacks when he’s abroad because it reminds him of you and thinks you’d love it. As you let your brain mull over this information whilst your manager went over the boring bits of the deal, you realised he was your person and you needed to get Leeds and you needed to get up North to him now. Pulling the ‘emergency’ card, you left your manger to to take any important notes and you darted out of the building, texting your driver to meet you out the front asap before you were speeding out of London and heading to the place that started it all.

You raced up North to get to the festival and just about managing to get there in one piece. Flinging your weekend bag in their green room; you went to run back out when something caught your eye, Ross’ hoodie from the last night. Pulling it over your head; a complete dress on you and covering your own outfit, you quickly untucked you necklace so it proudly displayed on top, you ran towards the main stage as you heard end of your song as George’s launched into to The City. You had just about made it; as you weaved in and out of the crowds of people to get to the side of stage at lightening speed.

Squeezing through the bodies of the crew who were littered backstage you fell into step with Jamie who was filming the boys. Their manager quickly wrapped you up in a side hug with a large grin and a happy “Glad you could make it!” Before turning his attention back to the band.

George was the first person to notice you, sending you a quick wink as you blew him a kiss with a beaming smile. Ross was the next person to spot you; his eyes softening as he took in your appearance before Matty was excitedly shouting you out.

“Fucking knew you’d make it darling! This one is for you!” He announced as the intro to M.O.N.E.Y started up to more roars of noise.

It might have been pure accidental that you ended up next to a rowdy group of teenage boys on that August weekend in 2007. But my god are you happy you did! Not because they were the biggest band in the world but because the five of you had seen every single one of your wins and your losses, they championed you on every new endeavour and had your back through thick and thin. You didn’t care about Matty writing songs about your blowjob skills because you were happily screaming the words back to him now. You cared that he was happy, that they all were and they knew they were fucking loved.

Which you finally realised you did. You fucking loved your best friend and as Ross turned to look at you whilst doing his little two step whilst Matty serenaded the crowd with I’m in Love with You, he really took in your appearance. Thigh high boots and his black hoodie he wore to Reading last night that covered you like a dress and the bastard golden R that was sitting over the top of the neck of the jumper, your hand pressed over the top as you made eye contact with him and beaming brightly at him, he felt his heart skip and triple in speed. He needed to tell you and he needed to tell you now.

So the second About You finished and he had said goodbye to the crowd. He was throwing his bass at Joel and was marching straight towards you, grabbing you by the jaw and smashing his mouth against your own. Melting into his touch you kissed the bassist back as the rest of friends joined you.

“I love you.”  Ross breathed out in between kisses.

“Ohhh thank fuck because I really fucking love you too!”  You told him; pulling him back to your lips as you gripped on to hair at the bottom of his bun tightly as your boys hollered around you.

[ramona-quinn]

WIP Wednesday - Period Pains

Request by @yourneurodivergentlady

TW: Period blood, mention of nausea, mention of Valentino, drugs, and alcohol

Plot: Crymini gets her period in the middle of the night and regresses.

Crymini woke up at around two in the morning, and her body felt like it was instantly struck by a double… no, triple… wait, scratch that. Her body felt like the aftermath of being hit by a quadruple-decker bus. Her stomach and legs were in immense pain. She felt like she was going to throw up, and her head was throbbing. She wanted to get up, but her body was in so much agony that it felt like it was anchored to the mattress. That’s when Crymini’s headspace slipped. She wanted her mommy and papa to comfort her, and she did the only thing that she could physically do: cry.

———

Husk was sleeping when he woke up to Crymini’s crying through the baby monitor that rested on his nightstand.

“Crymini?” Husk muttered, his voice lingered with tiredness and concern. He got up out of his bed and walked over down the hallway. He then spotted Angel heading to Crymini’s door.

“You heard her crying, too?”

“Yeah, I can check to see if she’s okay,” Angel offered, yawning.

“Val kept you up for the past few nights, you need sleep,” Husk said.

“I know, but I really like helping you out with Crymini when’s she little.”

Husk knew Angel was right. He loved looking after little Crymini. It helped him get his mind off of drinking, taking drugs, and his boss at work. Plus, the hyena really enjoyed her mama’s company whenever she was tiny, a stark contrast to whenever she was big.

“Well, okay,” Husk smiled a bit. “I’ll get the nursery ready for her while you check out what’s wrong.”

“Thanks, Whiskers,” Angel smiled back.

Husk walked back to his room while Angel gave a couple of soft knocks on Crymini’s door.

“Mini, what’s wrong, baby?” Angel asked. He opened the door and his heart dropped when he saw Crymini upset. “What’s wrong, baby? Did you have a bad dream?”

The hyena’s sobs simmered down as Angel walked over to her and helped her out of bed. When he did, he saw that her sheets were stained with blood.

“Aw, baby, are you on your time of the month?”

Crymini whined tearfully, trying her hardest not to cry again. She didn’t mean to have an accident, especially during the middle of the night.

“Shhh, princess, it’s okay,” Angel soothed as he gave Crymini a hug. “Mama’s not mad at you. Periods happen when you least expect it. We’ll get you and your sheets cleaned up, and you can sleep in Papa’s room.”

Angel removed the sheets from Crymini’s bed and put them in the hamper. He then guided her to the bathroom and washed his hands while she sadly fussed from the pain she was sustaining.

“I know, Mini, I know,” the spider cooed as he kissed Crymini’s forehead and gently rubbed her hands.

“I’m sorry,” Crymini hiccuped.

“What are you sorry for?”

“Making a mess an’ wa’in’ you up.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetie. Everybody makes messes and mistakes from time to time. That doesn’t make me and Papa love you any less.”

Angel gave Crymini another forehead kiss.

“I’m just gonna give Papa a text so he can help us out.”

“I’m in t’ouble?” Crymini sniffled.

“No, baby, of course not,” Angel reassured. “He’s just gonna help me make you feel all better.”

Angel began texting Husk.

🩷🕷️: “Mini’s on her period”

❤️🐈‍⬛: "Damn, that’s gotta suck :("

🩷🕷️: "She had an accident, so I’m gonna give her a bath. Can you get the changing station ready?”

❤️🐈‍⬛: “Yeah, I’ll get everything ready for the baby.”

❤️🐈‍⬛️: "I can get her some pain relieving medicine and make a bottle for her if you want me to. And my door's open so you can change her after her bath."

🩷🕷️: “Thanks, Husk! She would love a bottle! Love you ^3^”

❤️🐈‍⬛: "Love you, too, honey"

Angel turned on the bath and adjusted the knobs so warm water will fill the tub up. Once he tested the temperature of said water, he got Crymini undressed and gently placed her in the tub. He gently scrubbed her body as he hummed and planted gentle forehead kisses every now and then. Crymini felt a lot more calm as Angel bathed her. She felt her tears dry and she began taking deep breaths.

“There we go, Mini. You’re doing a good job at calming down, I’m proud of you,” Angel praised.

After Crymini was bathed, Angel helped her out of the tub and dried her off with a fluffy, warm towel. He wrapped it around her and carried her to Husk’s room.

“Where’s Papa?” The hyena asked.

“He’s getting you some medicine and something to drink,” Angel said as he laid Crymini down on the changing pad that rested on top of Husk’s dresser. He changed her into a diaper and a pair of fuzzy pajamas with an anglerfish design on the shirt.

“There you go,” Angel said as he picked Crymini up and wrapped her in a hug. “You feelin’ better, sweet girl?”

Crymini nodded, but groaned once her legs and stomach started hurting again. Angel kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back, shushing her softly. Husk arrived on cue with two Midol pills and a baby bottle filled with chocolate milk.

Not so fun fact from the author: I get leg cramps every time I get my period. Why? Because God hates me /hj

[lizardperson]

lizardwriting wrapped 2024

because this whole thing deserves a little yearly review too...

after not writing anything for the public in sooo many years, i actually wrote quite a lot this year. only had to overcome the initial feeling of "cringe omg i can't post that 😬", and now have lost all shame and am enjoying myself immensely, subjecting the world to my bullshit. i think i actually improved quite a bit over the whole year.

AO3 STATS [link]

28 works 48,102 words total 18x ocworld: 17 short bits + 5 chapters Dark Lights, Shine Loud 7x fallout: 6 of those Courier Mika including 20 oneshot chapters Come All Sufferers (#fnv au) 2x star trek disco

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SPOTLIGHT some points stolen from this list

.characters i thought most about: mika - light of my life, bane of my existence. the ultimate blorbo from my brain, bouncing around in there 24/7. she's terrible and i love her so much. (#mika tag) gabriel - grew SO MUCH this year, mostly thanks to the silly little fallout au. i have a lot of thoughts but not enough words. i love him so much. (#gabriel tag) special mention: fiona - what started out as daria's nameless dead backstorywife somehow turned into an actual character that has been living in my brain now extensively. little miss tortured poet. i love her. (#fiona tag)

.favorite title And there are days like this, too because it's the perfect throwback to the kinda-first part 4261 days. and i wasn't even the one who came up with it, that was @voidthing special mention: The Hills Have Eyebots. because it's just funny.

.favorite opening line

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Mika cursed when her can of energy drink let out the familiar hiss of danger. Despite her best efforts and a few quick sips, she still managed to spill some of it on herself and the couch. Great, another point for Nic's long list of things to be pissed about. As if the general mood in this apartment hadn't been shitty enough those last few weeks. Oh well, let her bitch then. [Dark Lights, Shine Loud]

is it my best line? nah, far from it. is it the perfect introduction to Mika? hell yea - cursing, consuming caffeine, and making a mess. what more do you need to know lmao. i just really like that one, still. the whole first chapter, actually.

.favorite piece of dialogue

"You didn't answer my question - you think we're doing the right thing here?" "Yes." There was not a bit of doubt in his voice. "You believe in our stupid plan?" "I believe in you." [Doing The Right Thing]

just sums up the whole fallout au and their dynamic so well, and also *clutches chest*

special shoutout to the close second, the "I'm not a lesbian" bit in In Whiskey Veritas

and another special shoutout to the last bit of Left My Heart In The Sierra Madre because. T_T

.favorite ending line

Falling in love with her best friend was such a bad idea, July thought, and yet she didn't know how not to. [Viola sororia]

it's so sappy. but 🥺🥺🥺

close second for a completely different vibe:

Freud would probably have something to say about distracting yourself from your shitty mother by sleeping with a woman roughly that same age. Good thing Freud was dead. [Mommy issues]

.favorite text overall 4261 days i still think this is the best thing i've written. for someone who does not have particularly much experience with grief in general, i really really like writing a lot about it somehow...

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OUTLOOK 2025

the big multi chapter thingies are very far up my to do list, but yknow how it is with adhd brains - ohhh lets do that quick short text first, and that one, and that one *procrastinates the big ones*

BUT that is the plan:

. finally getting some more chapters into Dark Lights, Shine Loud. there are a bunch lying around as first drafts, but they still need some work. soonTM

. continuing the way-too-ambition plotheavy heistthing What Happens In Reno, Stays In Reno after those first few intro chapters. this requires an extensive brainstorming session to get the actual plot hammered together.

. the shiny new wip that i am itching for (because shiny and new), because it's gonna be a bit different in various ways so that makes it excitingTM

....and of course just continuing to write, overall. gonna keep my #fff streak up.

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SPECIAL THANKS

@voidthing for basically being my secret co-author. always improves the quality by SO MUCH and is the bestest anyway 💕💕💕

the whole @flashfictionfridayofficial community - turns out a regular thing is really good to get a habit going, and also y'all are so nice and cool and just 💕💕💕

everybody who reads my stuff of course :D yes, i mostly write for myself, but of course it's always awesome if someone else likes my bullshit 🙏

[devdevlin]

hi devdevlin!! love ur work!! ur the one who brought me back into tomione after i couldn't find any works i rlly liked for a while lol. i also love verso and peremo hehe~

with that said, do u mind recommending a list of works that u personally liked or felt like were similar to ur writing style and/or characterization? 😁 i srsly need smth to kill the time as i wait for ur brilliant mind to churn out continuations of the existing masterpieces (or more, always welcome :)))

Hello, ahhh thank you so much! I’m so glad you’ve returned and that you enjoyed my messes hehehehe 🖤🖤

Hmm well I wouldn’t exactly say I think they’re similar to mine, but here are some must-reads with excellent characterisations that I have enjoyed immensely! (This list is non-exhaustive, is not ranked or in any order; they’re just a bunch of ones that I enjoyed very much that sprung to mind):

- Infinite Spin by Seollem (WIP)

- The Itch by Seollem (Completed)

- Sin Bin — wait, actually, just everything by Seollem

- Romantic Idealism by Meowmers (Completed)

- Shared Flame by LadyMiya (Completed) (this one was a a major inspiration for me when I was just starting posting my own stuff)

- Somewhere in Time by SerpentInRed (Completed) (another big influence)

- antiobscurants by tomioness (Completed)

- Synchronicity by Foolishlywandwaving (WIP)

- Nothing Like the Sun by orphan_account (orphaned WIP - absolutely worth the read though)

- Murky Waters by Nekositting (Completed)

- and literally anything else by Nekositting too!

Bonus fics (not Tomione):

- Ouroboros by Metalomagnetic (Tom/Voldemort) (Completed)

- Either must die at the hand of the other by Metalomagnetic (Harry/Voldemort) (Completed)

- Mine + Hauntingly by ObsidianPen (Harry/Voldemort) (Completed)

[yukipri]

YukiPri's February Valentine's Patreon Promotion is live!❣️💖💗💘

I'm running another promotion on Patreon this month, and to no one's surprise, it's Valentine's Day themed❣️

This event will only run till the end of this month, February 2024.

In addition to access to my regular exclusive/early access art, WIPs, and personal rambles, patrons on the $20+ Tiers will also receive physical print rewards!

$20+ patrons get a jumbo "Valentine's Chaos" postcard print, as well as two standard postcard prints "Sugar" and "Spice," which I'm working on for this year's Valentine's Day!

Valentine's Chaos was my Valentine's Day art for 2023, though this will be my first time printing it! You can see my public post with the art HERE.

Sugar & Spice public versions will be posted on Valentine's Day when they're completed, but if you sign up for my Patreon now, you can see my WIPs✨Spoiler alert: they're two separate ships, each one a different clone x Obi-Wan! Can you guess who?? UPDATE: art posted here!

This is currently the only way to get these prints, and they will not be available again once this event ends.

Ends February 29, 2024 EST!

(Also, I am currently without a day job, making Patreon my primary source of income. If you enjoy my work, any support is immensely appreciated and lets me focus on healing myself and creating more art🙏)

Important links:

Detailed info about this promotion

My Patreon FAQ

Really excited to be sending folks these prints, and I hope some of you will join us!

And here's a link to my usual pinned Masterpost, since this post will be replacing it as my pinned post for the month!

[youcouldmakealife]

Hi Taylor! Question from an aspiring writer... how do you track your words written per month? Is it the words you actually publish or do you have a spreadsheet? Just curious!

I use a few methods, because I a) lose things (I lost a whole ass writing journal after a year of steady use, and had to start another after tearing my house apart. I'll probably find it the day I move). b) really really like tracking metrics, and get a sense of satisfaction from them that's almost like accomplishment, but for most of the time I've been writing the 'verse, I've used simple monthly spread sheets.

Like this:

Typically, I have a set writing goal for the day (1250 right now) and only update the 'Min' when I'm finished, so I can see where I am for my monthly goal. I absolutely need to separate out projects for my own sanity, but you don't need to. At the bottom of the month are my totals for each project.

All my WIPs are titled to include the POV char or prompt, the part number if it's a series, and the current word count. So if I start the day on James 25 (850), and at the end of the day it's at, say, 1250, then Hold'em (Cards on the Table) gets updated with 400 words. If I worked on Holden as well, I just add 'em up, I don't mind that. Go with what makes your brain happy.

I'm just going to say straight up that this has been something I've trialled and errored for literally a decade now, and it's something that's worked for me, but I've also used:

a literal piece of paper that happened to be within reach

a notebook (and still do, updating it with a handwritten version of the above, along with what's been posted, and a 'fill in a square every 250 words' in which each project gets a different colour, which I find immensely satisfying, and helpful for seeing trends.

~estimation (or yeah, adding up word counts, though then you don't get to log anything you cut and that's no fun)

A fancy tracker that gives me ~graphs~

But at the end of the day, I can't rely on my enjoying a thing forever, and I'm pretty decent at keeping up the spreadsheet. But I should note that I like data analysis and I like spreadsheets, and if spreadsheets make you break out in a cold sweat, they're not going to work for you.

Whatever is easy enough to consistently keep up with, do that one, because it sucks when you have a big data gap because you hit a rough patch and couldn't be bothered to keep your system up. For me, that's the spreadsheet. For you it could be a little notebook, or in a planner, or numbers in a calendar box, or a habit tracker, or an email draft you update at the end of the day and send yourself every once in awhile. Whatever you'll be fucked to do when you don't have many fucks to give.

(I have...also done all of those at some point.)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You've had a crush on your best friend for years, but you're slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: nice to see ya again!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Thor makes himself as permanent as the layers of sediment. Whether you’re in the dirt or looking over the charts and maps, making notes or sorting through your findings, he appears. Knowing he’ll be there keeps you coming yourself. Despite the short nights and long drives, thinking of him finding an empty site deters you from a day off, even against Sam’s pleas. 

The night before was filled with similar chiding from your friend. Sam is as persistent as ever. He always has a new account of his antics with Bucky and never forgets to tell you to take a break. You can’t stop though. You know if you do, you’ll have to think about everything you’re denying. 

The time away has given you time to breathe but it’s suffocated you in new ways. Along with that weight on your chest that has a name, there’s another you can’t quite understand. The one that sees you spending your spare hours alone and your working hours longing for anything but. You’re desperate to get out but terrified of the very same. 

When he arrives that day, you’re ready to give up. The tension in the air is giving you a headache and the dampness makes your skin feel sticky. You just feel gross. 

“Ah, I didn’t think you’d brave the weather today,” he muses as Thunder hops around his feet. You don’t look up, in a mood as grim as the sky. “You’d do well to stay in tomorrow. Trust me.” 

He’s always right about the weather. It must be the familiarity and yet it’s almost eerie how accurate he is. You might take his advice. You don’t like being wet and you’re starting to go cross-eyed from the hours and hours of concentration. 

Thunder yipes as you use your gloves to brush away clumps of dirt. Thor’s footsteps mulch patches of grass that sparsely carpet the dirt. He hums as his shadows looms in your peripheral. 

“Yes, my darling, I believe you’ve found the perfect spot,” he praises. 

You look over curiously. What is he talking about? You only notice then that he has more than the tiny dog with him. He has a basket on his elbow and a blanket under his arm. You sit up and watch him place down the former and shake out the latter.  

He spreads the blanket over the dirt and Thunder jumps onto it, rolling around on the fabric, digging her nose into the patched quilt as she wiggles across it. You clap off your hands and watch him as he gets down to his knees and flips open one side of the basket. He lays out several containers and two thermos’; one is the very same he brought you tea in.  

“I thought you could use a nice lunch before the weather turns,” he stands and nears the fence, “summer doesn’t last long here. You may as well enjoy it.” 

“Lunch?” You utter. 

“Brunch?” He suggest coyly. “Surely you can take a break. You are only human, you need to eat.” 

“You...” you lean to see around him, “you brought me lunch?” 

“I know it isn’t the most elaborate picnic but I thought it might be a pleasant surprise. I must confess I’ve been rather bored these days,” he admits, “so?” 

“Thor, that’s so... sweet,” you frown, “but...” 

“Work, work, work. Surely they can’t expect you to work yourself to the bone, pardon the pun,” he insists, “it will only be a bit.” 

“Yes, but...” you leave the sentence to hang. You don’t have a good excuse. You don’t know. It just makes you nervous. It’s a whole lot of effort for just you.  

“Oh, I don’t mind if you would rather stay over there. Only mean more for, eh, Thunder?” He asks the canine tramping around the blanket. “More than happy to sit here and enjoy my jelly cookies and hot coffee. 

“Coffee?” Your brows raise. 

“Freshly brewed. Promise, There’s nothing pickled. Though I don’t mind a nice herring,” he grins. 

Thunder bounces over and barks at you. She stands on her hind legs as she paws at the barrier between you. Now, how can you deny her? 

You stand and shed your gloves. You carry them over to the table beneath the tent and grab a wet wipe from the back. You come back under the open sky as you wipe your hands. 

“Sorry about all the dirt,” you scoff as you cross the dirt. 

“I don’t mind,” he assures you. He pulls apart the panels of the fence to let you through. It isn’t something you could ever forget but you can’t help but be stricken again by his sheer size. 

You bend to pet Thunder as she gets between your feet. She licks your fingers and you giggle. She’s cute. 

“Go on, pick her up,” Thor goads, “she loves it.” 

You scoop up the dog and stand. She squirms as she wags her tail incessantly. She swipes your chin with her tongue and you scrunch up your face. You carry her to the blanket and look over the spread. A leafy salad, pasta salad, sandwiches, cookies... There’s so much. Your protein bars and peanut butter and jelly can’t compare. 

“Oh gosh, this... a lot.” 

“Is it? Isn’t too much. We’re friends, yes?” 

“Friends?” You face him as you pet Thunder’s soft head. 

“Perhaps it is rather one-sided. You are obligated to be here, I just sort of haunt this place,” he chuckles. 

“No, no, friends,” you smile, “that sounds about right.” 

You turn away and lower yourself onto the blanket, sure to keep your boots off of it, as you hide your face. There’s a tinge of disappointment. You hear a far off echo in your head. How many times did Steve say the same; we’re friends, just friends, you’re such a good friend. Well, that’s all this is. No need to be so sensitive. 

“Do you ever take time off?” He asks as he gets to his knees. 

You look at him as you put Thunder down. He barely keeps her from chomping down on a rye crust. He lifts her easily and she kicks her legs. 

“Eh, you beast,” he points a finger at her snout, “be good.” 

He sets her back on her paws and she obeys. He tells her to sit and she does so. Her eyes continue to hungrily rove over the food. How can he resist them? 

“Like you said, the weather won’t last. Should get done what I can before the ground gets cold.” 

“Ah, yes, that is a concern,” he tuts, “how would you deal with that?” 

“Heat lamps, tiger torch... jackhammer if I really need but I’d have to put in a request for that...” you hadn’t thought too much into the inevitability of winter.  

“Ah, that’s...” he smirks, “I’m sorry but the idea of you with a jackhammer,” he snorts. 

“Hey,” you pout. 

“It isn’t to be mean but... you’re so gentle. When you dig, you’re so delicate about it.” 

“Am I?” You wonder. 

“Mm, is it a bit weird to say so?” He wonders aloud. “Yes, you are very precise, very cautious.” He takes out a set of plates and offers you one, “please, help yourself.” 

“It must be boring watching. Really, I’m the one digging and it gets dull,” you accept and pluck out one of the sandwiches. Salmon, you think. 

“You make it interesting,” he muses. “You talk to the bones.” 

“I talk to the bones?” You repeat, “what?” 

“Yes, I suppose you’re not aware of it. But your lips move when you’re focused. As if you’re chatting up the dirt,” he chuckles, “sometimes a few words do slip out.” 

“They do?” You blanch before you can help yourself to the salad. 

“You don’t say much. Usually something about the dishes, I’m not too sure.” 

“You never mentioned,” you look away shyly. 

“It’s... cute,” he shrugs. 

“You mean crazy,” you shake your head. 

“I say what I mean,” he counters. “No use in not. We can’t be happy if we’re not honest, not least of all with ourselves.” 

You’re quiet as you turn your attention to your plate. His words feel sharp despite his placid tone. You know it’s only because they’re true, especially for you. If you’d just accepted everything sooner, if you hadn’t been so dumb, if you hadn’t been so emotional, it would never have gotten so bad. No, if you’d just been honest. 

“I hope... I hope that didn’t come off wrong,” he says. 

“No, no, I’m... this all looks so good and I’m starving,” you assure him as you sit back with your plate. “Thank you again. This is... great.” 

“Well, I was thinking, you must miss your friends. I might be a paltry substitute but I thought i might fill that gap, even just for an hour.” 

“It’s really...” your eyes tingle but you push away the tinge of sadness, “it’s really nice.” 

“So tell me,” he scoops up salad onto his plate, “tell me about home.” 

“I...” you begin, surprised by the prompt. “It’s just home. New York. It’s busy and loud. Not like here.” 

“No, not that. Your friends. I want to know all about them. If I’m ever going to come up standards, I’ve got to know the competition.” 

You laugh. He speaks as if he needs to impress you. It’s nice to be somewhere where no one knows you’re not that special. You take a bite of the sandwich and chew, thinking out your question.  

You swallow, “well, my friend Sam, he calls every night to bitch at me. He’s great. Supportive but pushy. He likes to terrorise Bucky. He’s the strong and silent type, you know? Grumpy to boot but they’re... they’re awesome.” You smile without thinking, “before I left, they took me to this cocktail bar...” you blow out between your lips and roll your eyes, “real girly stuff.” 

“Ooh, cocktails. I’ve been known to indulge. I love finding new recipes.” 

“Really?” 

“Oh, yes, I love the sweet ones. I’ve only just perfected my blueberry basil concoction. I’m afraid I can’t share the secret ingredient unfortunately.” 

“Blueberry?” You ponder the flavour, “sounds yummy.” 

“Perhaps one day you can try it,” he suggest. 

“Maybe,” you say evasively. “Anyway, yeah, Sam and Bucky are... characters.” 

“They sound like it. How’d you meet?” 

“Oh, it’s boring. What about you?” 

“It’s not my turn,” he deflects, “tell me.” 

You don’t know why he cares. It’s as confounding as everything else about him. You still don’t get why he’s here watching you sit in the dirt. It sounds as grueling as watching a golfing tournament, in your opinion. Yet here he is, a man who looks like that, staring at you in your mud-stained khakis. 

“College. We met through a mutual friend,” you explain vaguely. 

“Ah, so you’ve been friends for some time. Yes, I see, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he hums thoughtfully as he toys with the braid that hangs loose by his face, the rest of his hair twisted back as always. 

“Steve,” you say without thinking, your eyes drifting off into the distance, “he was my best friend. We met in art history. We spent almost every day together. Studying, whatever. He was more of a partier than me but... fifteen years, more than, and we saw each other...” You choke on your words and scoff darkly, “sorry, that’s... I’m homesick, I think.” 

You bat away the glaze in your eyes and focus on your food. You take a few bites as he sits quietly. Thunder stands up cautiously and crosses the blanket. She settles against your leg, leaning her head on your thigh. It’s comforting. 

“Yes, I think I would be very homesick as well. I lived in the city for a while but mother and father, they need me. And I love this mountain. It’s home. There was nothing in Oslo for me. I can work from here.” 

“Work? What exactly do you do?” You ask, happy to divert from your own painful past. “Oo, are you like a farmer? Or a shepherd. There must be sheep up here or something.” 

He laughs, “there are some sheep, yes, but those are protected by the government. We’ve not much of a choice where they settle. No, I’m not so savvy as all that.” 

“Hm, you... oh, what could do you here?” You look around, “on a mountain... oh, tours? Do you give tours?” 

He laughs, “it’s not a bad idea, but no. I’m a business owner.” 

“A business. You must sell fitness or something.” 

“Must I?” He narrows his eyes, “and what else do you assume about me?” 

“Oh, it’s only you’re so...” you cringe as you eke out the word, “big?” 

“Genetics,” he affirms, “not that but close, in a matter of looking at it. You recall that tea I brought you, with the cloudberry?” 

“Uh, yeah, it was sweet. Yummy.” 

“I’m happy you enjoyed it,” he smiles proudly, “I make superblends. All Nordic ingredients. There is a demand for wellness and organic products. I found the right niche and I’ve not done too badly.” 

“Must not if you can live all the way up here,” you remark. 

“Yes, but... it’s a reason I moved back. Business is a lonely venture. Now I’ve got it all figured out, I have my managers and my business plan, I break even, I realise how much I put to the side,” he mulls his sandwich and takes a glum bite. It’s the first time you’ve seen him anything but bright and beaming, “I feel like I’ve fallen behind. Like I’m playing catch up.” 

His words sink in and storm inside of you. You crunch on the crisp lettuce and gulp. You wipe your mouth with a napkin and clear your throat. 

“I know exactly what you mean,” you say breathily. 

“Do you? You’re out here, on an adventure all you’re own, how brave,” his voice is wistful and his gray blue eyes reminds you of the clouds above. 

“Yes, I know,” you say, “better than you. Trust me.” 

You smile, a bittersweet tug in your cheeks, and he stares back at you. Your eyes cling to each other and you feel as if the world is moving around you. He smiles and a glimmer of something unfurls in your chest. You make yourself look away. 

“Well,” you push the salad around your plate, “what about you? You must have friends, aside from the girl in the dirt.” 

He hums and scrapes up a bite of the pasta salad. He takes his time chewing before he answers. You scratch Thunder’s nose as she sniffs at your plate. 

“Yes, if you ever come to sample my cocktails, you might meet a few,” he coaxes, “I think you’d get along. Hogan and Vol, and Fandy. All good company. Sif’s not around so often when my brother’s around but he’s as fleeting as the sun.” He tuts, “I would call Loki a friend as well but he does scowl at the very thought.” 

“Loki?” 

“My brother of course,” he explains with , “yes, he is quite the dour one. He might get along with that Bucky.” 

[isiaiowin]

Tagged by @cheeseplants

How many works do you have on ao3? 11

What's your total ao3 word count? It's 69.589 if you include the BOOB OMENS crack fic, my own works are 66.934

What fandoms do you write for? Only Good Omens

Top five fics by kudos:

Saucy Saucers:

After a few days inside the bedroom, Aziraphale gets peckish. Then finds out a certain demon has been perverting his porcelain.

As I place this crown upon thee...:

Crowley meets up with Aziraphale at the crowning of Napoleon Bonaparte. It inspires him to make a grand gesture of his own.

Marshmallow Cat:

Aziraphale finds a Miaowing box on the doorstep of the cottage.

Happy Holidays Furfur:

Furfur finds a strange box on his desk. Short fluffy holiday fic.

Leave me broken on the leather, bring me home on satin sheets:

Ferdinand Fur, a top-tier investment banker, had asked Dominatrix Shax Stork to set up a special scenario. Nervous yet excited at work, he awaited the moment she would kidnap him and break him apart in her dungeon. Trusting her completely; his Mistress, his oxygen, his life, to give him the relief he so desperately craved.

Shax had been initially surprised by this request but had quickly warmed to the idea and couldn’t wait to give him what he needed. She enjoyed playing with him immensely, loved indulging herself with his body, loved him; her slave, her heart. Wrapped in the mantle of decades of experience, she would take him over the edge, into a free fall of emotions, just so she could catch him safely at the bottom and put him back together with care.

Do you respond to comments? Yes always, they really make my day!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hmm my Stag and the Scale longfic that only needs the last half of the last chapter is currently angsty.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? It must be Infernal Tango Shax and Furfur dancing back to the party together melts my heart.

Do you get hate on fics? I was hit by bots, but that is fixed now.

Do you write smut? I do! Never thought I would but now I'm even working on a dopplebanginging fic and oof... I really enjoyed writing the BDSM AU with dominatrix Shax and Furfur, just pure love in an unconventional way.

Craziest crossover: can it be collab? It must be the crack fic we wrote for the modcast over at @goodomensafterdark

Have you ever had a fic stolen? I hope not, do not think so I'm a way to small writer.

Have you ever had a fic translated? No.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, crack fics and birthday collabs and have some more (serious) fics planned for the future.

All time favorite ship? Shax/Furfur otherwise known as Shafur. I love writing them, they have my heart and soul. It's a rare pair so it doesn't get the 'clicks' but I don't care I'll keep writing the carmine empress together with her emerald stag.

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

Hmm let me see, a songfic with Crowley needing to leave before he does something that would disturb his friendship with Aziraphale. Aziraphale makes it very hard for him not to kiss him right there and then.

What are your writing strengths? Love? Pure love? I can't make it not 'sweet' It has to be LOVE.

What are your writing weaknesses? As English is not my native language, I had to learn how to properly punctuate and write in UK English. I sometimes lack the vocabulary but it is fun to see the growth over the last few months.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? Why not? If you add a translation in character so everyone can understand it.

First fandom you wrote in? Good Omens. Only started with a micro fic last November, then really started writing and posting since the beginning of March this year.

Favorite fic you've written? Leave me broken on the leather, bring me home on satin sheets. Written for the kink event in GOAD, this fic is very close to my heart. I wanted to show the Domme side of a BDSM relationship and Shax was perfect for it. Plus the dynamic between Furfur and Shax really worked for this idea (in my headcanon)

I tag: @aidaran-alha @yes-its-unholy @theonewiththeshippinggoogles @mightyshax

[musewrangler]

🦋 🌸 🐠 🌷 🍄 for the writer ask game, please?

As ever, lovely friend, you are so kind. ;D Absolutely!!

my current WIP-----as you know, at any given time I usually have about 3-5 xD. However, I'm so glad YOU in particular asked this because it was you who gave me the Piett as a Jedi AU five facts. And um----guess what happened. I am currently plunging through chapter three of what is likely going to be a MUCH longer story than I anticipated, but I am not complaining, no sir. I've never written Piett this way and I am enjoying the development of this story in my brain. My poor boy has to go through a lot of suffering first, but the upshot is this---rejected by his family and sold, it is Plo Koon who saves him and raises him. He ends up stationed on Coruscant as the Clone Wars break out and it is here that he not only befriends Padme and Bail, but also a very overworked Commander Fox. While they are not able to completely keep Order 66 from happening, they manage to put a dent in it [because Fox gets a Jedi in this story ;D] and go on to fight this corrupt Empire with far more living Jedi and clones than we were left with in Revenge of the Sith.

WIP I've been working on the longest---again it is timely that you ask this. xD xD I am HOPING to finish Stiffen Up the Sinews today, which is the latest installment of the Empire Reimagined series. I've been at it for over a year which is fairly slow for me, but I totally blame the muse rugby team. You know how they are. xD

Author who inspires me----I'll give a two pronged answer here. First is the published author and while I could name so many, I am going with Dorothy Sayers. I ADORE her Lord Peter Wimsey series----she is a deft hand at both rich character development and in describing a scene. I owe a lot of my writing voice to her I think. Second, in fanfic land, there are once again a good number I could name, but I shall go with Osheen Nevoy. This is the author who wrote The Adventures Of Darth Vader and who really shaped my ideas about Piett. We have been communicating and it has been a true delight.

Writing achievement I want to brag about---- Well normally I'm happy not to do this. ;D But...I am really thrilled to say that I've started work with a friend on an original fic. I've been dabbling a bit in original work lately, but this is the first serious full blown work I've attempted in years. It has been immensely satisfying and I'm stoked to see where we take it.

Name a song that represents my main character----Ooh wow. This is actually a tough one. I can think of a number to represent Firmus. I'm Still Standing would be one. ;D Here Comes the General is another. But I think I really like The Fire by The Roots and John Legend. Great lyrics for our Admiral. ;D

[s4pphic-sh3nan1gans]

Welp I just re-read Zame, si čisti dopamin because of your WIP post even though it ends on a cliffhanger and I shouldn't do that to myself😭😭😭 please tell me Bojan ends up kissing him

awwww thank you so much for re-reading!!! I know cliffhangers kinda make me wanna tear my hair out, so I'm immensely sorry for leaving it on one for so long aksjsksh 😭

so, I had a dive deep into my notes app and I realised that I actually wrote a decent amount of the final chapter?! like... over 1000 words?!?! which I was NOT expecting at all. it just makes me wonder why I lost motivation, usually if I have a big chunk of something done it just makes me want to finish it even more but gosh, idk 😭 sooooo perhaps I should finally finish it after all these months? 👀 it seems like a tragedy to leave it as is.

anyways, for your commendable bravery of reading an unfinished fic, I now gift to youuuuu (drumroll pleeeeease) the start of the final chapter, so far unseen... until now! enjoy 😌

Chapter 5 - Have I ever told you?

The next couple of days raced by for Bojan. Of course, he spent most of his time simply with Jere enjoying his company, but also getting to know his friends and being taken sightseeing around Finland.

If he was being perfectly honest with himself, a solid (and embarrassing) 70% of the time was spent over-thinking every single interaction and wondering if his sentiments were returned, and how he would even begin to bring it up.

(And if the other 30% was spent stealing glances and touches whenever he could... well. That was no one else's business but his.)

The day of the Tavastia concert was finally upon them, and Bojan had never felt so much anticipation in all his life. He simply could not wait for the atmosphere that he knew would feel like liquid electricity injected straight into his veins, heightened even more when he would step out onto stage with Jere, to a crowd not expecting him.

And yet... something was nagging at the back of Bojan's mind. Because as much as he was looking forward to sharing a stage with Jere - with Käärijä - it was also tainted by the fact he knew that he wore his heart on his sleeve and was as easy to read as a book. Maybe not by Jere himself, (because that man had proved himself to be clueless even at the best of times) but by the hundreds of people watching, and the countless thousands more inevitably watching videos online afterwards.

He knew that the fans were perceptive, and he knew that he didn't trust himself enough to keep his reactions and his goddamn smiles under control whenever he's around Jere, and as much as he might try, he knew there would be absolutely nothing he could do about it. To his eternal annoyance, he was in way too deep.

However, despite his worrying, a part of him really didn't care. It was highly likely that any embarrassing, lovesick moments on his part would be seen as a performance, simply fan-service and nothing more... but that simultaneously filled another part of him with dread and nausea, as he feared that is how Jere himself would view their antics. Playing it up for the crowd. Evoking reactions. Getting people talking.

"Bojan?"

He jumped. Jere was looking straight at him and... oh. He was shirtless. Clearly, Bojan had been too inside his own head to even notice him losing an item of clothing. Great, and now he was staring.

ask me about one of my wips!

[tadpolesonalgae]

Hi!

I just wanted to say, your fanfictions have made me stay up an extra hour on a work day. Trying to read your work whilst necking down a tesco meal deal in the staff room. Silently begging for another chapter/crumb of whatever you are creating. Please know that out here we appreciate your work immensely. I was an oldschool tumblr user back in the early 2010s. You and the amazing creators in the ACOTAR realm have managed to drag me back in like a giggling girl. Thank you. Lots of love ❤️ 😍 💖 ❣️ 💕 xxxxx

Oh my goodness I think sugar is leaking from my eyes!!!!! (Crying with happiness—since that’s a weird way to put it 🤦) This is such a sweet thing to say and thank you so much!!!!

I’m working on a good many things at the moment—I’ll put a short list below of my wips so anyone can have a nose at what’s possibly in store for you 🧡💛 I also hope you continue to enjoy your tumblr time now that you’ve graced us with your return 😌🧡💛🫂

Alrighty, a (incomplete—can’t ruin all my secrets) list of some wips I have:

1. Sweater Weather — Az x reader on a rainy day, fluff (request, from a while ago)

2. please… parts 5 & 6 — slowly piecing scenes together for both parts…feat. reader reporting on Kier’s darkbringers possibly making an unannounced trip to Velaris

3. Porcelain Princess — dark!rhys x Illyrian reader—their parents were friends and Rhys fell in love with her but she doesn’t trust him at all (a request)

4. I’ll be here…waiting — reader gets stood up by Az when he forgets their anniversary (this was inspired by another fic I saw, which I’ll link in the completed story when it’s ready 🧡💛)

5. Bring You Down — an addition to the Safeword series feat. mean dom Az dealing with a bratty reader, courtesy of a lovely request I received 🧡💛

6. Salt On My Tongue — Dark Az x Vanserra!reader, another request <3 (Eris bargained for her safety under the mountain, and Azriel can’t decide whether he wants to ruin her or love her—ultimately a bit of both)

7. IGEIMWIWHSMA — Azriel x reader where reader makes Azriel fall in love with her to get something, but ends up kind of falling in love with him back (and is conflicted over whether to continue with the betrayal or not—pretty angsty)

[shewhowas39]

wip friday

thank you for the tag @kittenintheden!

this is from a future chapter of Juniper & Starlight. like, seeral chapters away. but hopefully it's a nice sneak peek.

only context: this is late act 1. June is the dark urge and is having a Bad Time. she has been sleeping with Astarion for a bit now. but on this night, things feel different...

cw: emotionally driven smut

***

Astarion catches her face before she can turn away, cupping both of her cheeks and sliding his thumbs beneath her eyes, gently wiping at her tears. “And you let me off the hook too easily, love. I’ve done plenty of depraved things that Cazador didn’t demand of me. Some of them I enjoyed immensely.” He smiles. The dangerous one he knows she likes, with a flash of white fangs. “I can tell you about it sometime, if you ever want to be truly scandalized.”

He’s teasing now. Trying to tug her back to the realm of flirtation and levity they usually occupy together. Even so, his hands don’t leave her face, his thumbs continuing their slow, gentle paths across her damp cheekbones. June knows she must look a mess right now, with her mascara smeared and running, as it often is these days. She knows this likely isn’t the sexy private afterparty he’d anticipated. But Astarion doesn’t seem fazed by any of it. His eyes are soft and steady on June’s. Watching to see where these turbulent emotions take her next.

June opens her mouth to say something, but there are no words on her tongue. She closes it again and swallows.

“What is it?” he whispers. “Tell me what you need, darling?”

But she can’t. She doesn’t know what she’s feeling right now, let alone how to express it. She’s sad and scared and so, so grateful that he’s here, even if she doesn’t understand why.

She’s kissing him before she realizes what she’s doing. Her hands are on his chest while he continue to cup her face. It’s a gentle brush of lips at first, perhaps meant to be a small, unspoken thank you. But then he’s tilting her head slightly, his tongue tentatively coaxing her lips apart. Like he knows what she needs before she does.

Because what June needs right now is to be touched. To be held. To be grounded in this time and this place. What she needs is to feel real.

They don’t speak as they slowly undress one another, pausing to exchange soft kisses after the removal of each garment. They only fully disentangle when Astarion stands to remove his trousers. June watches him from where she remains kneeling, naked in the grass. His pale skin almost seems to shimmer against the deep blue of the night sky. 

“Stacivae,” she murmurs. Starlight. It’s a word she has thought so many times while looking at him. He’s so beautiful that the common word for it doesn’t even feel like it does him justice. Only Elvish can come close.

Astarion looks down at her. “What was that?”

June shakes her head and reaches for him. He’s already been away from her too long, and with each moment he’s not touching her, she fears the world will slip away again. That she’ll find herself somewhere dark and terrifying, the way she often does. But as long as he’s touching her, she can stay here. 

Astarion kneels in front of her again, and June wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close. She kisses him more desperately this time. It’s shamefully needy, especially when she knows he doesn’t feel the way for her that she feels for him. But right now, as he’s gently sucking on her lower lip, his hands moving to the small of her back and the nape of her so he can carefully lay her down in the soft grass, she doesn’t care. She’ll feel the sting of it tomorrow. But, in this moment, she’s just glad to be here. With him.

They lay entwined on the ground for a while, their kisses long and languid, hands slowly caressing bare skin. It’s the most tenderly he’s ever touched her. The most tenderly anyone has touched her, that she can remember. 

When he pushes himself onto his elbows to hover over her and begins trailing kisses down her throat, her breasts, and moving lower - she lets out a pleading cry. 

“No.”

Astarion freezes and looks up at her, clearly surprised. 

June shakes her head and reaches for him yet again. “Stay,” she says, her voice shaky with emotion and need. “Stay close. Please.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, but he does as he’s asked. He crawls back up her body, pushing loose curls from her face before kissing her again. She feels the slide of his knee, pushing beneath her thigh, and she sighs as she hooks her leg around his hip, grateful for the additional points of contact. 

Astarion settles into the cradle of her thighs and rotates his hips slightly, a wordless question that makes June break their kiss with a gasp. 

“Yeah…yes,” she whimpers, her arms tightening around him, desperate to pull him closer. She rolls her head to the side, baring her neck to him. “Please.”

Astarion’s lips descend to the vulnerable flesh, softly kissing and sucking on the skin as he positions his hardened length at her entrance. He pushes into her at the same time that his fangs sink into her neck. June cries out, overwhelmed by the dual forms of intimacy. He pulses inside of her just as her blood flows into him. They both share and take in equal parts, and the thought alone leaves her trembling and clinging desperately to him.

***

absolutely no pressure. but i'll toss a tag over to @avalost and @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate