#bee’s st fics

[mmunson86]

“Just want you to be nothing but a mess for me.”

Safe Word

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: After a long day at work you just want to relax but the night has something else in store for you.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), angst, some fluff at the end, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, hair pulling, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, use of safe word, eddie feeling guilty, comforting

WC: 2.3

(first thing writing something like this, hope you enjoy!)

Remember to reblog and support the author!

It was a rough day at work and all you wanted to do was come home and relax. You were overworked and every part of your body was so sore. That all changed once you plopped on Eddie’s living room couch and he walked in with a mischievous smile plastered on his face. 

“Hey, baby.” He sat beside you and put your legs in your lap, rubbing them softly. “I’ve got a little idea for us.” 

Even though you were tired, your interest peaked. “Oh, an idea?” You sat up closer to him, your head resting on his broad shoulder. “Are you gonna tell me or keep me guessing?” The look he gave you sent a chill down your spine, his eyes were growing darker by the second. 

“Well,” his fingers traced up your thighs, barely grazing where they met your hips, “I watched porn earlier and..”

Eddie’s voice trailed off, almost as if he didn’t want to say what was on his mind. “I-I wanna get you to squirt for me.”

You choked on air, your face immediately becoming heated. All the things he could have possibly said and you would have never guessed that it would be this. By the time you had barely nodded, just taking in his words, Eddie had already thrown you over his shoulders. “Eddie! Put me down.” You gently smacked his back as he just laughed at you. 

His hand came down and smacked your ass, making you whimper just a bit. “I saw you nod, it’s fair game now.” Eddie laid you down on his bed, hovering over you for a moment? “Are you positive you want to try this? I won’t hold it against you if you decide not to.”

Thinking about it for a quick second, you nodded again. “I’m sure, Eddie.” Your hand came up to cup his cheek before you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his soft and plump lips. “I trust you, and if this is something you want to do then so do I.” 

Quickly, his lips pressed back to yours, peppering kisses across your cheeks and then working down to your neck. You leaned your neck to the side, giving him more access as you brought your hands up to tangle in his curls. You gave them a tug and smirked to yourself when you heard a groan and his breath fanned across your neck. 

“I promise to make you feel so good,” Eddie nibbles along your neck, leaving small hickeys here and there. “Just want you to be nothing but a mess for me.”

“I’m always a mess for you,” you gave him a small wink when he looked up at you. “Just your mess.”

Eddie’s cold hands slipped under your shirt, earning him a small gasp. He pulled his lips away long enough to slip the shirt over your head, but once off, his lips were right back to attacking your skin. They trailed kisses down your neck to your boobs, nibbling over the soft skin. His thumb traced over your clothed nipple, smirking to himself as he got harder with each small touch. You were already putty in his hands and you were sure he was going to have his way with you. 

When you arched forward, Eddie’s hands snaked behind your back and reached for the clasp of your bra. “Let’s get this off you, yeah?” He quickly went to work, easily undoing the clasp and sliding the straps down your shoulders, his lips following them. “Look at you,” his tongue poked out and swiped over one of your hardened nipples. “Just so ready for me, aren’t you?”

You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging just a bit. “So ready, Eddie.” Your hips wiggle against his leg more, dousing a small whimper to escape you. “Want you to make me squirt, Eddie.” 

”I’ll do just that, baby,” his fingers popped the button of your pants before pulling them and your panties down your legs in one swift mood. His eyes found your soaked pussy, watching just how glistening wet you really were. “Fuck, I’m going to devour every bit of you.”

The second his tongue swiped across your swollen clit, his name left your lips. His plump lips wrapped around and suckled at it, making an obscene sound as he did so. “That’s it, baby.” Eddie pinned your legs back, your thighs resting against your boobs, “make those pretty noises for me.” 

This new position allowed him to pump his tongue in and out of you so deeply, you could already feel your first orgasm of the night building up. “Oh my god, yes.” You bucked your hips against his tongue as he pulled it out and flattened it against your clit. “P-please don’t stop.”

Eddie didn’t answer you, instead he sucked on your clit more; harder than the time before. He shook his head side to side, gently pulling and nibbling at it. Your body couldn’t take it any longer and before you knew it, you were cumming against his tongue. “Y-yes!.” You ground your hips, riding out your orgasm for as long as you could before Eddie pulled his face away, it being covered in nothing but your cum and his spit.

“Hope you don’t think we’re done yet,” Eddie stood up from the bed and stripped himself of his clothes. His hard cock sprung up and made a wet sound, precum leaking from the slit. “We’re gonna make you cum until you’re squirting all over this bed.”

You barely had time to recover from the first orgasm before you felt the hard tip of Eddie’s cock rub against your clit. “You ready?” All you had to do was nod your head before Eddie was slowly sliding in, giving you a chance to feel every part of his throbbing cock inside your very soaked pussy. “God, such a perfect pussy for me. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Uhuh, it’s your perfect pussy.” You looked down at where the two of you were connected, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy at the right pace.

Eddie’s rough hands grabbed at your hips, his thumbs running over the soft skin before pulling you against his cock. Each thrust of his hips meeting yours was sending his cock into your g-spot repeatedly. Your mind goes to mush between his thrusts and dirty talk. 

The sound of skin slapping and wetness could be heard echoing off the walls of the small room, adding to the pleasure just a bit. “Yeah, you hear that, baby?” His thumb finds your clit, rubbing at it in time with his thrusts. “That’s all you.”

You reach down and squeeze your boobs together, pulling and pinching your sensitive nipples. “Feels s-so good, Eddie.” The words you spoke came out barely coherent, you were too focused on the pleasure. You were already so close, your second orgasm quickly creeping up on you. “Wanna cum on your cock, please!”

“Let me hear you beg better than that,” his hand ran up your body, stopping to get a good grip on your neck. “And maybe I’ll think about it.” He smirked down at you, knowing that you could beg a lot better than you already have. 

“Eddie, god, please! I’ll do anything you want, I promise.” To make matters worse, Eddie’s thumb had added more pressure to your clit, adding to the pleasure inside you. “Baby… please.” 

“Anything? C’mon baby, cum all over my cock.” 

That was all you needed to hear. Your thighs shook around Eddie as your second orgasm tore through every nerve of your body. A silent moan left you as Eddie fucked you through the orgasm, the squelching sound between you two growing louder by the second. 

“That’s it, cream on my cock, baby.” Eddie’s hips slowly stilled as your body began to recover and stop shaking. He pulled out long enough to flip you over and slide right back into you. “Your cum is making it even more easy to slide so deep inside you.”

Your head fell against the pillows below you and Eddie didn’t like that. He raked your hand through your hair and pulled your head up by your hair, “no, no. I wanna hear those moans, baby.” His hips smacked into yours rough, his heavy balls slapping against your clit. 

“E-Eddie, yes. Right fucking there.” 

“Yeah? Right here?” Eddie thrusted again right into your g-spot causing your body to jolt. “Keep clenching around my cock, baby. You’re gonna make me cum.” His body leaned over yours, his tongue licking up your spine. “Want me to cum in your pussy? Want me to fill you full and get you pregnant?” Eddie moved your hair from your face and kissed your neck. 

“Oh, f-fuck yes! Please cum in me.” Your hips bucked back against Eddie’s cock and clenched around him. He groaned right by your ear, your body shaking in response. “Want it to leak out of me.” You whined, feeling his cock start to pulse inside you. 

“I-I’m cumming, shit.” Eddie’s one hand on your hip gripped at you harder, sure enough to leave bruises for you to see tomorrow morning. “Cum with me baby, I know you want to.” 

Eddie’s hand left your hair and found your clit, rubbing at a vigorous pace before he felt you clench around his cock. You felt yourself cum around it, your body going limp and falling forward against the mattress. “H-holy fuck.”

When Eddie pulled out, you could feel your mixed cum drip out of you and down your shaking thighs. “Look at that, just a leaking little slut.” He kissed the globe of your ass before shoving the cum back in with two of his fingers. “Don’t want this going to waste, do we?”

Your whole body was sensitive, every nerve on your body felt like it was on fire. 

“I know you got more in you, baby.” Eddie’s free hand smacked against your ass. You yelped in pleasure and Eddie took that opportunity to slide another finger inside your pussy, crooking them perfectly. “Want you to squirt for me, baby. Want you to give me everything you got.” 

Each thrust of your body quickly turned from pleasure to something else. You felt bubbling up inside your stomach, but instead of the feeling to cum it was becoming painful. You tried your hardest to push it to the back of your mind, but when Eddie added his thumb to the mix, you had to let out a gasp. 

“I-I can’t,” you pushed away a little, but Eddie only finger fucked you harder. 

Eddie tutted at you, smacking at your clit with your other hand. “I know you can, just let go for me.” 

You shook your head, gripping the sheets below you. The pain became way too much to handle and before you could realize what was happening, you blurred out your safe word. “R-red, red!”

Eddie stopped his movements, quickly pulling his fingers out of you and away from your body. The whole room went quiet, so quiet that you could hear a pen drop from the other side of the room. Tears pricked out of your eyes and slowly fell down your cheeks and Eddie’s face immediately softened. You could see the fear in his eyes; the fear that he hurt you. 

“Baby, I-, fuck.” He moved from the bottom of the bed to sit beside you, pulling your body flush against his. “I’m so fucking sorry, I just thought..” 

Eddie tried to rub your thigh soothingly, but you scooted away. Any touch head your pussy was too much for you, your whole body feeling off. 

“I just wanted to try something new and I-,” Eddie tried his best to apologize but he felt so bad that he didn’t have any idea of what to say. “Do you need anything? I can get you some water, or? Are you okay? Do you need me to leave?” He went to get out of the bed, but you reached a shaky hand from him, beckoning him to stay in bed with you. “I’ll stay, okay?”  

Eddie’s mind was rushing a mile a minute. He never thought this would happen and he felt so stupid for pushing too far. He knew that he should’ve never brought up squirting to you because now you were too overstimulated. Eddie never meant for this to happen. 

You nuzzled your head against Eddie’s chest and sniffled, wiping the stray tears away. “Baby, I’m so fucking sorry.” He rubbed your head and kissed your cheek, wiping some tears that you missed. 

“No, no. I’m sorry, I should’ve kept going or-,” Eddie immediately stopped you, shaking his head. This wasn’t your fault and he wasn’t about to have you apologize for something that he did. 

“God, no. This is far from your fault, you did nothing wrong, okay?” He pulled away to look into your eyes, looking for an answer that you understood. “Never think that this was your fault, I pushed too far.” 

Eddie’s fingers traced shapes against your skin as he felt you heart slow to a normal rate against his chest. You had finally calmed down and he was thankful that you did. He wouldn’t be able to leave with himself if he actually hurt you or pushed you away too far. 

“Maybe next time we take it slow?” You wrapped your hand around his and played with his rings absentmindedly. “Neither of us take the blame for this and learn from this?” When you looked into Eddie’s eyes, you saw a bit of hope behind him. You didn’t want him to think that you two would never have sex again or anything, you just needed some time. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he kissed your forehead and pulled a cover over the both of you. “I’m still so sorry… I’m just glad you spoke up. Don’t want you to ever feel like you have to endure anything for me.” 

You gave him a soft smile, your body finally feeling normal again. “I love you too, Eddie.”

tagging: @onehotgreasymechanic @dixontardis @thefreakofhawkins86 @hellfire-isnt-it @wroteclassicaly @magnoliabutters @corrodedcorpsess @trashmouth-richie @sherrylyn628

[hollypies]

New on left, old on right !! Two year difference babbbyyyyyy!!!!!!

Anyway I decided to redraw an old Hollow Cells au wip that I never finished lol . My anatomy has gotten better yippee ! They are picking yummy berries

[bumblingbabooshka]

Thinking about hologram T’pel, when Tuvok was giving Tom specifications about her personality and body to make the holoprogram… I wonder how detailed he got lol and if VOY wasn’t pg what else Tuvok would’ve complained that Tom took “artistic license” on besides her ears 😶‍🌫️ (also thinking about Tom Paris being obsessive about Tuvok’s relationship with his wife lol) (I’m assuming that’s how Tom got the info so I could be wrong but still)

If he finds out that she's gone up a cup size it's OVER for you, Tom!!

[streamafterlaughter]

Bee's Diary | Soundtrack to Disaster

XI: Sun. Oct. 20

fic masterlist | diary masterlist

7:19 PM

I feel like every time I pick up this diary lately, it's some absolute fuck shit. Today was no different. Something must be wrong with e. I'm seeking him out. Voluntarily spending my time with him. Alone. I think I'm looking for proof that I didn't make the biggest mistake of my life.

He took me to skull rock today. Well, kinda. There's this really pretty clearing a mile or so west. It looks like he's really made it his own, with old tarps draped over precariously stacked logs. He plated me a song he's working on, something he said he hasn't even shown the band. Claimed I had inspired it, or some shit.

Diary, I'm really glad you can't talk. No offense, I just know you'd be so fucking tired of me talking about Eddie. I haven't been this insufferable since... well, probably since the day Chris was sentenced.

Anyway, I really wanna tell Rob about the shit Eddie said to me. It's playing on a loop in my brain, making me feel fucking fuzzy. "I bet I could make you come with my mouth." Who just SAYS shit like that?! And, selfishly, I wanna know if there's any truth to it.. UGH, what am I even saying?! Who am I?!

But if I tell Robin, I need to prepare for Steve to know. But... Steve's friends with Eddie, and that would turn into a whole thing. But it's not like I can tell my mom, and DEFINITELY not Chris. So. Something will have to give, and soon before I ruin another perfectly good pair of underwear.

[bees-writting]

SOMEONE GIVE ME JOHN ALLERDYCE X READER FF- IT DOESNT EVEN HAVE TO BE MLM AT THIS POINT

[laiqualaurelote]

Making a masterlist of my Dead Boy Detectives fics, which I will be locking on AO3 soon.

in this city there's a thousand things I want to say to you (E, 4.9k)

post-canon fic in which Edwin has a sexual awakening courtesy of the Cat King and it blows Charles' mind, among other things (nicking this summary from @adventures-in-mangaland); seems to have accidentally manifested S2's First Adult Experience.

the saviour of the broken, the beaten, and the damned (T, 8.5k)

the time travel fic in which Edwin dies over and over again in multiple AUs as Niko tries to find him and stop time from collapsing, ft. Noir!Edwin, JazzAge!Edwin, Professor!Edwin, at least two different war Edwins, and the Niko-is-the-Principal conspiracy theory manifested through Apollo's Gift of Prophecy Dodgeball.

gig officially gigged (T, 13.8k)

the rock band AU ft. punk drummer Charles, classically-trained virtuoso guitarist Edwin, kawaii metal bassist Niko, and disgraced child pop star Crystal over the course of one epic gig; plus the prequel meetcute in which Edwin plays Welcome To The Black Parade on the King's Cross St Pancras piano for Charles.

The Katabasis Job (M, 23.6k)

heist AU! instead of becoming detectives, Charles and Edwin embark on an afterlife of crime. When the long arm of the Lost & Found Department catches up with them, they are made an offer they can't refuse: earn their freedom by stealing from Hell itself. (I cannot believe I planned a whole heist around Dante's Inferno. This fandom has made me do crazy things.)

season of mists (T, 9k)

the bookshop/coffeeshop AU, Edwin is a bookseller, Charles is a barista, it's October, I'd make a joke about 'no time like fall to fall in love' except in the UK one says 'autumn' so I resolutely refuse to make fall puns. This is the cosiest goddamn thing I've ever written and @dont-offend-the-bees made the most beautiful art for it, some of which I append below!

still my heartbeat with your bare hands (M, 4.8k)

Bruv, tell me we still know how to speak of heroes! this is a Beowulf AU. (And I thought the Inferno heist was bad.) Charles is looking for a hall to belong to, even if that means slaying a monster to secure his place. Edwin has some noise complaints.

also here is a tiny workplace comedy AU where Charles and Edwin are co-workers in the Afterlife department. It was meant to be enemies-to-lovers but tbh the enemies part lasted like five seconds

I did not expect to be in fandom this year, and this whole thing has taken me by surprise - but oh, it's given me so much joy and solace to be here.

[starberrybrunch]

Gracelynn “Gracie” Marie Taylor | “The hard part of being a star is only getting to shine when the sun’s gone away.”

☆☆☆ i really didn’t think the teenage soccer players turned c*nn*b*l*st*c cult pipeline program i started watching during college snow days was going to be what pulled me out of a 4.5 year writing hiatus- but here we are!! truth be told y’all i’ve been lurking in the van palmer reader fics and it gave me an itch to ✨write✨

pre-crash 🪽 knowledge

portrayed by dianna agron

☁️ Gracelyn “Gracie” Taylor, living infamously to strive for the same level of belovedness as her twin sister, Jackie. Cheer captain, top of her graduating class, volunteering on the weekends- but nothing could quite fill that sense of empty on the inside. the void that you aren’t really supposed to talk about with anyone that’s not your own train of thought alone in bed at night or in the shower. the kind you pretend doesn’t consume you.

☁️ I mean sure, Gracie’s always had Jackie- they were twin’s for God’s sake, it’s almost like they were destined to exist together. Moon and Sun, Bee and Butterfly, all those things, they’d only ever know life living in comparison to the other. Gracie lacked so much of what Jackie had, the jocky boyfriend, the team of adoring friends- and it was a constant pressure sitting in the pit of her stomach through every match cheering her on, every ride home from another Yellowjackets party- even boarding that plane to nationals for emotional support.

more to come soon……

[strangerthingsfanworkrecs]

Artist Highlight: Jo-Harrington

This week, we're highlighting @jo-harrington! All recs this week will be for her work. @jo-harrington writes for the Stranger Things Fandom, with a special focus on xOC, and xReader fics. She's also a great beta-editor and design all the graphics for her fics! We're highlighting Jo for her incredible world building and strong OCs.

You should check out her Store Manager Verse fics for some great fluff and top-tier retail angst Jo answered some questions about her creative process and her work under the cut

Why Stranger Things?

I’ve been an avid ST Fan since the beginning. My old Store Manager and I watched the first episode in the backroom of our store while folding t-shirts and rest was history. Fic-wise, a certain Metalhead Dungeon Master brought me out of a fanfiction posting hiatus and I haven’t looked back since.

What's your favorite ship (platonic or romantic) to create for?

Platonic is always going to be the Hellfire Club boys. I love writing their adventures. Their friendship is epic and deserves to be explored and celebrated. Romantic…EddiexOC or EddiexReader. I mean, I’ve been an xOC girl since my first fandom. xReader is new for me but it’s almost an extension of xOC. I always joke that I’m allowed ONE epic borbo obsession love of my life per decade and I’ll give them one canon pairing but the rest are OCs.

What's your typical writing process like?

I have an idea, I write it down, I get sick of working on a chapter, I don’t edit, I post. (Which is funny because when I beta, I am a lot more detailed. But for my own work I just need it out of my head.) It might not be the best. It could probably read better or have less typos or mistakes. But it’s always from the heart.

How do you come up with your OCs?

I sit there for a long time and figure out how I can put a part of myself into a story. Oops was I not supposed to say that? Sometimes you think of a character that you just can’t help but want to write. But even if they aren’t a manifestation of your physical self or your personality, they almost always end up being an extension of you in some ways, or something you aspire to be. You also need to add some attributes you hate into them, so that they’re not too perfect and you can throttle them around and make them suffer and not feel too bad/let it become a self hatred thing.

What has been your favorite project so far? Why?

Store Manager Verse. (EMxReader) Retail is who I am and who I’ve always been. I had a mall romance irl that went south. So it was a way to rewrite my past with my comfort character…and also give said comfort character a happy ending as well.

What has been your hardest project so far? Why?

As Above, So Below. (EMxOC) It is a passion project, it is a beast, every chapter takes an emotional toll on me and it takes a month—if not more—to recover. But it has been the single most fulfilling project that I’ve worked on in the 20 years I’ve been writing fanfiction. I've been working on it for about 2 years now. 3 more chapters til the end…I’m gonna be very sad when it’s over.

Have you ever had a creative block? How did you get over it?

My brain is just a beehive that I shake every now and again to get the bees angry. Honestly, the bigger block I get into is self-doubt. I have no problem finding the words, it’s the courage to put them to paper I struggle with at times.

Is there a big source of inspiration for you? Books? Art? Games?

Yes all of the above. But in all seriousness, life experience is the best inspiration. There’s only so much research you can do. Truly for me, the canon characters are the source of inspiration. Then I take from things I’ve done, things I’ve read, places I’ve been in order to take an idea to a fully formed plot.

Is there an upcoming project you're particularly excited about?

Eddie Munson Big Bang. I know you’re gonna hear that a lot. I love creating really ambitious AUs and I think this one is really testing my abilities as a writer. It's a crossover fic, in a way, but with a lot of original plot folded in. I hope I do both fandoms/universes justice.

Is there anything we didn't ask that you'd like to add?

I’m from the Midwest, so thank you for listening to all of my long-winded answers. Haha.

[swamp-adder]

Like many fans I've always had issues with Holmes' retirement in canon... not just the separation from Watson but the fact that he always loved detective work so much and it's just hard for me to think of a non-depressing reason why he decided to retire so early in life, move away from everything he loves and focus all his time on some random new hobby that we've never heard about before. I mean even though he's a solitary guy I just have a hard time believing Holmes would actually want to move out to the middle of nowhere where he can't easily go and see concerts whenever he wants.

I know some fic writers try to make sense of it by positing that he had a transformative experience during the Hiatus where he learned how to relax and find true happiness and emotional fulfillment by living a peaceful life appreciating nature instead of doing morbid stuff like obsessing over murders and risking his life all the time, but I dunno... it's not exactly that I find this unbelievable and more that the idea of Sherlock Holmes as a zen nature lover who couldn't be truly happy until he quit being a detective just doesn't appeal to me very much lol.

So how about this alternative theory:

Holmes is sick of being famous and having people hassle him all the time for interviews/autographs/etc (THAT part I can definitely believe). Around 1903 he gets fed up and decides to leave Baker St and secretly move to another location in London, possibly even under the thin façade of an assumed name to keep the neighbors from asking too many questions. (Maybe Mrs. Hudson also retired from landladying around this time and that was part of the impetus for him to leave.) For a while he'll go back to being primarily a "consulting" detective, taking cases from a few Scotland Yard inspectors or government officials who can be trusted with his new address. He had previously banned Watson from publishing any more stories about him, precisely to avoid growing his fame even further; but now he says, "You can publish more stories, but only on the condition that you tell them I'm retired and not living in London anymore." Then Watson is like "How should I say you're spending your retirement?" and Holmes is like "IDK, keeping bees?" as like a random joke. Either that or Watson made up all the "peaceful life of a country beekeeper" stuff to twit Holmes because it's the complete opposite of what he actually enjoys.

Of course eventually people will start piecing together the truth, so Watson writes "The Lion's Mane" to further push the story (and/or as another joke, making it deliberately ridiculous to see if people will still buy it).

Eventually, sometime after the war, Holmes does retire for real; but he stays in London (maybe at still a third address, to shake off the people who managed to track him down last time). He spends his days doing chemical work and writing his book on detection and going out to concerts every night. Watson may or may not live with him, but in any case he's also still in London and they see each other all the time. The end.

[toasttt11]

ophelia brielle st. james

summary: opehlia was used to being all alone and relying only on herself but that might all change when she gets drafted to the vancouver canucks

thoughts

ophelia st. james

introducing ophelia

ophelia

instagram

ophelia’s style

facts and favorites

ophelia x hughes

summer

blurbs

use to it

pats

bronze

regina

gold

pancakes

gossip

fics

just us

sick

not leaving

memories

alone

funeral

will

free

second and fifth

cooking lessons

draft

development camp

ELC

meeting

morning

bee

boat day

country club

full house

braid

not alone

shopping

living

umich

vegas

vegas->seattle->vancouver

training cam

dinner

staying

dogs

debut

calls

ottawa

calgary

bad

random

four nations

beginning

team

rely

close

love interest ?

upcoming

introducing

comfortable

first

ridiculous

shopping

bee

ophelia

best

duck

bracelets

episode

[bumblingbabooshka]

Doodles of trans T'Pel bc I was writing a trans T'Pel fic She works as a supervisor of some sort...

[streamafterlaughter]

Bee’s Diary | Soundtrack to Disaster

VIII: Sun. Oct. 13

fic masterlist | diary masterlist

10:42 AM

Well, I did it. I texted Eddie. To hang out. Just the two of us. No buffer. Terrified doesn't even begin to cover how I'm feeling. I can't like myself out now though, I'm not a coward. Kinda wish I was, though.

10:00 PM

That was a lot easier than I had expected. It felt like picking up where we left off. It was natural, like we had been friends this whole time. I lost him for 6 years, and now it's like it never happened. It doesn't add up. Or I'm paranoid, but can ya blame me? I'll be continuing this investigation tomorrow with my next person of interest, Steve. Who, apparently, has taken a page out of Robin's book and [told] Eddie my personal business! He told Eddie I missed him! And I told him that in confidence YEARS ago. I don't know why that's even relevant anymore! I may have to interrogate him. And I am more than willing to do that.

—

disclaimer: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. THIS WORK IS BEING REPOSTED TO MY NEW AO3! Feel free to check it out! Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. I am satiated by reblogs and comments, so please! Interact with my work! It motivates me to write more, and it helps to know someone out there is reading.

[anatomic-girl]

Shaking himself, Crowley said, “I understand your concern. It would certainly put us all in a bad place if we discovered after marrying that our living arrangement was untenable. When is the deadline?”

“My forty-fifth birthday. March 28th.”

“That gives us about two and a half months, like Ana said. Probably closer to six weeks if we don’t want it to look suspicious with a last second union.”

Aziraphale laughed. “I imagine it’s going to look suspicious regardless.”

“We’ll have to get all our ducks in a row.” His eyes lit up. “We can say an old friend introduced us, and on our first date, we fed the ducks at St James!”

“Wouldn’t our first ‘date’ have been at that godawful pub?”

Crowley waved that away. “No, that’s where our friend introduced us! Tomorrow, we’ll go on a proper date to St James. I’ll bring peas, and we’ll feed the ducks. Then, if you’d like, I can take you to meet Bee and the cats. We can work out the details, and maybe we’ll have a trial move-in. Spend some time living together, make sure it’s not an utter disaster, before the actual wedding.”

“You want to take me on a date?” Aziraphale’s heart was fluttering, and he wasn’t sure if it was due to nerves, excitement, or confusion.

“A friend-date,” Crowley said with a shrug. “We don’t have to tell anyone that part.”

***** Chapter 5 (Meet the Family) of Dead Right is up! Crowley tells Aziraphale all about his big, crazy family, interrupted partway through by a not-so-nice phone call from Aziraphale’s dad.

Fic notes: Angst-free, complete tooth-rotting fluff, fake marriage, pining-while-married AU, rated E (but all spicy sections will be skippable).

***** Thank you to my wonderful betas @beerok23 and @unicornbeck, as well as to all you lovely people who give me no end of support! 💕

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 26

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 4.1k

IMPORTANT a/n: Hi... I said that if the Celtics won I'd post tonight so ya know! Here it is hehe. LETS GO CELTICS

Finally used the scene in Season 1 episode 5 of Narcos of Javi and Murphy in the car. There's a lot of perspective change in this one, this section will be like this most the time just because are characters are so far apart!

Ok bye enjoy

New Orleans 1988

“Do you remember being sixteen?”

You cackle, playing with the golden bee at your lobe, looking up at your student Chiron. He had been eating his lunch in your classroom for about two months since, the cafeterias ac is shit, his words. You dig into the cake your students bought you, they thought you would cancel their monday practice quiz with a little birthday celebration. They were greatly mistaken. 

Today you're twenty-four. Everytime you think of it your brain freezes.

 You remember being sixteen like it’s yesterday. You nod, washing down the store bought dry red velvety mess with water. “Yes. It sucked.”

Chiron laughs just the same, opening the pink milk box on his tray. “When were you sixteen? In 1950?”

You stare at him with your most deadpan look, shaking your head. “I turned sixteen in 1980. I was living in Laredo, Texas and I spent my birthday alone. I received flowers from my… friend and my mom took me dress shopping two days later. What was yours like?” 

You and Chiron talk every day. You know he lives in a group home, you know he gets excited when he gets asked about his own life and even more excited when someone shares stories about theirs. He reminds you everyday that you want to have a son one day, you guess you’ll tell him when he's older. Hopefully then you could introduce your son to him and have a laugh about it. 

Teaching has given you a purpose. Being away from home has given you a purpose. Knowing no one has given you a purpose. You tell him stories all the time, you’re going to sob when he walks across that stage in May. 

“I went to the arcade with Teresa.” Teresa has been his girlfriend since the ninth grade, she went to St. Mary’s. They met doing community service and Chiron knows that they're going to be married. “She bought me this chain with her paycheck from Rouses. Are you doing anything for your birthday?”

You look at the picture of your little sister and niece sat up on her desk. Little three year old Sol holding Frankies babygirl Annie. “I still don’t know anyone out here but my coworkers so I’ll probably order in, watch Dirty Dancing and wait for a call from my brother.” You think of Javier for a moment, wondering if he knows today's your birthday. 

You wonder if you have crossed his mind. 

You saw him in the paper when you went home for christmas, you didn't visit your mother. 

You went home to simply spoil the babies at Frankie's house. You drove right back to your third floor apartment in Nola. Cried into your pillow until you slept and did it all over again for three more nights. Chiron nods, you have told him small stories about your life because he loves to listen. You’re weary of sharing too much, only offering bits you know will make him feel seen. You let him cry when he said he tried to meet his father during Christmas break and he didn’t show. That's when you decided to tell him about your first trip to New Orleans. 

Chiron frowns and sips his milk. He just got a haircut, flat top style, he had been growing his hair out the whole year for it. “Do you think Javier will call you?”

You smile at Chiron. He had been trying to pry information about your former lover for weeks. It all started after Christmas break when he cried about his father. You told him that family can be found anywhere, that your only family for a bit was your best friend who happened to be your boyfriend. 

“Do you live with Javier now?”

You shook your head, “He moved away for work.” Nearly a lie, you didn’t feel it was appropriate to tell your seventeen year old student the painful details of your life. 

Chiron went quiet for a few seconds, his face going inward. Eyes shy and sad, it happens every time he’s asked about his parents.

“So who is your family now?”

Andrea drops her keys on her kitchen counter being greeted by tiny tweets. She grins from ear to ear, placing her purse down on the couch. Walking to her cage, the two birds chirped.

 “Are you singing Happy Birthday to me?” She gets on her tiptoes, offering her fingers to the babies, they take the chance. “Thank you, mommy’s going to watch Dirty Dancing because she’s lonely. Okay?”

She brings Jewel to her face in a phantom kiss while Harvey finds sanctuary on her shoulder. 

She always wanted pets but her mother never allowed it. The second Andrea put down her deposit for her apartment, she hopped in her car and bought two blue budgies. They nipped and scurried away from her each time she approached them but after two months of persistence they finally warmed up to her. They’re now her best friends. She’s become a crazy bird lady. Just in September she left a date abruptly because she realized she hadn't fed them in a day and a half. Its safe to say she didn’t get a call back from Mr. Henning.

She sits on her couch after loading the VHS and yawning. Her birdies flying back to their cage. 

That was the summer of 1963 - when everybody called me Baby, and it didn't occur to me to mind.

At 6pm she receives a call. Her heart sinks and for a moment she thinks, maybe.

But ultimately she knows not to be so silly, she knows she needs to be angry with him but she doesn’t have it in her anymore. She unravels herself from the nest she’s made on her couch and tip toes on the hardwood floor to her home phone. 

She spoke to Genie this morning, receiving a happy birthday song from her brother and their baby’s incoherent babbles. They say little Annie is upset that Tia Andrea lives so far. 

“Hello?” Andrea shushes her birds, they love to chirp when she’s on the phone. 

“Happy Birthday Andrea,”

 And she knows Don Chuchos voice anywhere. 

Andrea closes her eyes at the sound. She knew she couldn’t avoid him forever and she’s riddled with grief at the sound of his voice after nearly two years. 

“Thank you Chucho.” Andrea remembers the way he looked at her when she sat in the blistering heat on Javier’s wedding day. He looked at her knowingly, he could see that beyond the made up face she was on the brink of a breakdown. “How’s everything back home?” 

“You would know if you stopped by to see me last month.”

She winces. When Andrea came home for Christmas she made it her business to be seen by no one. Especially anyone who knew anything about Javi. 

She was finally feeling better. 

Everything was out in the open now, everyone knew their business. The scandal blew through town, she had to leave.

“I know, I'm sorry. I’m just still working through everything that happened. I knew if I stopped by your house it would bring up old memories.” Since Andrea moved to New Orleans she has gone back to Laredo five times. Two of the times she visited her mother, every other time was a straight shot to Frankie’s home. Calling him to make sure he takes Sol for the day so Andrea could see her too. She would spend two lovely nights on their plush couch and drive home the next day. 

Through the crackle of the receiver Chucho hums in understanding. 

In a twisted way Andrea always wanted him to be her father. She loved the idea of marrying Javier for more reasons than one. She wanted to officially be a part of his tiny family she loved so deeply. 

“Would this be a bad time to talk about him?” 

Andrea, the despondent girl. A girl alone, leaning against her lonely walls, a girl belonging to no one. Is a girl who cannot resist hearing about the one she loved. 

Loves. 

“Yes.” She allows it. He complies because she knows he must have no one to talk to about this. 

“He told me last week that he’s seeing a specialist—therapist, once a week.”

She smiles. She remembers the last time they had sex they talked about reaching out for help. She supposes it’s her turn. 

“That’s- I'm relieved to hear that. Is he doing okay out there?” 

Andrea has a reoccurring nightmare. She’s walking to work, the heat is brutal and her hands are full of groceries. In her nightmare, one of the bags rip open, fruit falling on the concrete. Every time, she follows an apple that rolls until it hits a news stand. And there—there she sees his face. There she reads his public obituary, the slain American agent. There she dissolves to nothing and wakes up crying harder than she ever has. She cried until she felt like dissolving into nothing. 

“He spares me details that would send me into a stroke but you know. It’s very dangerous work but he’ll make it back home in one piece. He’s too stubborn to die young.” 

Her eyes flicker to the ground and her chin quivers at his words. “Do you miss him?” Is all she can mutter. She cannot be alone in this feeling. She doesn’t like to feel this way. She liked to believe that she gets along without him well, but sometimes the wind blows and it reminds her of summer nights in his bed and she isn’t sure she could go on lying to herself.

Chucho sighs, “He misses you.” He doesn’t answer your question. He knows what you wanted to ask. “He doesn’t tell me because he’s afraid, but every conversation I can hear it in his voice. He is still grieving being away from you, still grieving being deceived. I know you are too. But I wanted to call to tell you that he is okay. I want you to be okay too, Andrea.”

January 1988 Bogota, Colombia

There isn't much work being done. Scoping out for a sicario in a hundred degree weather wasn't ideal but it left some time for beers and ramblings. Murphy dug his hand into the cup holder for another sip of Club Colombiano. “So what year was this?” Murphy looks over to Javi. It had been almost a week since he last saw Hertz. His next session is in two days. He found himself walking with less weight. He even finally told Murphy the name of the girl whose picture is taped on the corner of his desk.

“1986” Javier rasps. “I was driving to the church. I was with my buddy Frankie. He was my best man.” He nearly whispers the last bit. “We were late. It was fucking blazing, 110 degrees. The whole bridal party was there sweating their balls off I’m sure. Frankie is shaking like a leaf next to me, like he’s fucking getting married. Looking for a lighter for a joint he rolled. Mind you, we're been in my bride's car since she arrived in a limousine.”

“Don’t tell me you left her at the altar.”

Javier deadpans, “Let me finish my story.” Murphy chuckles, pressing the cold beer to his neck. “He opens the glove compartment and some papers fall into his lap. And boom, we hit a traffic jam. Frankie, my best man, being the nosy fuck he his opens up the papers. He goes, three months pregnant as of June 6th, can't believe we’re both having kids. I swear to god–”

“No!” Murphy gasps.

“Yeah, Lorraine, the bride, and I hadn’t had sex since February of that year. She was showing a lot, I never thought twice when she told me she was five months along.” Murphy is staring at him like this was the juiciest television worthy story ever told. Javier looks blankly into the rolling hills of Colombia wondering why this happened to him. “I had dropped everything in my life to rush into a loveless marriage for the convenience of a family that wasn't even mine.” His eyes cast low and he feels sick. “So I turned the car around. And Andrea was there waiting to watch me marry someone else. In the heat.”

Murphy rarely knew who Andrea was other than the pretty ex-girlfriend whose picture is taped on his desk; he didn’t tell him too much. The story is enticing, he supposes. Exhilarating from the outside.

Murphy grins, “Well, you saved her a lifetime of hell.” 

He knows it’s true, his inner monologue being spat right back in his face yet he can’t seem to swallow that reality. He's a weak man, he hoped that Murphy would tell him he was wrong, that he needed to get up on a plane this instant and find his girl.

He’s silent for a moment. “Yeah, she never spoke to me again, Andrea I mean. She’ll probably be married to a-a stock broker or some shit when I come home.” If I come home, he intends to say but decides maybe this wasn’t the moment. “Trust me, she’s better off.”

“I told my partner, Steve Murphy, about the wedding.”

“That's amazing, Javier.” She sits back down in her brown leather chair, sipping her tea from her small yellow thermo. “How did you feel afterward?” Javier went home to drink himself to sleep. He decides to keep that detail to himself, before reaching forward to sip water instead of fulfilling his urge to light up.

“I felt like I’ve taken some sort of step forward. Then I remembered how it was telling Andrea. Then I felt like I regressed once again, I didn't wake up for work the next morning. This Tuesday I mean.” She’s taking it all in, yet something i n her twinkles. He sees her satisfaction, she knows this is a shy way of telling her he’s ready to talk about it again. Things are changing for him so quickly.

“We were cut for time last week.”

“We were.”

“So,”

“So.” Javier's eyes jet to the plush rug below him. “I walked to her house the night I agreed to marry Lorraine.”

June 18th 1986

He stopped by The Tap before strolling his way into your neighborhood. Sitting on a barstool like he would do back in High School, eyes peeled to the door wondering if his mother would miraculously walk in. This time he doesn’t drink so much, he pushes three beers back and feels sad enough to see you. Sad enough to break your heart. Liquid courage? Is that what they call it? He feels a buzz in his spine.

Somehow he ends up at your door. 

 “Javi, are you alright? It's late.” You whisper, closing the front door behind you. It reminds him of the time he walked to your house after getting wasted. Catching you in Cabaret makeup, you turning bright red under white paint. 

This time you’re bare faced and so much more of a woman. Javier studies you in a buzzed haze, you’re concerned and it’s pissing him off. There you are, barefoot on your porch. Caught off guard and still the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. You step down one step. He wants to drop to his knees and apologize. 

You sense his sorrow so you step back up to be near to his height, placing your hands on his face. Holding his face, “Baby, are you okay?” He knows your worried little face, he knows that somehow in that brain of yours—you’re conspiring what you could have done wrong. Yet it’s never you, it’s always him. You’ve never done wrong.

“Hey…” You whisper, attempting to soothe his quivering chin with a kiss. 

He looks away. Looking into your eyes will kill him. Rejecting your kiss all together. “I’m sorry.” Javier’s voice breaks, and he isn’t embarrassed but he wants to die. He wants it to end because he feels your body go cold without even having to look at you. He’s crying and hiding his face, holding you close and hard. Sobbing into your chest, staining your gray shirt like you did his when he left the first time. “I’m so sorry—I knew I wouldn’t be right for you—Querida, I’m sorry.”

----

He crushes your body with his. He’s muttering words about a wedding, a pregnancy and you’re being crushed. You’re losing air and you hope he squeezes you tighter, hope your eyes fog and you fall. 

Hope to wake up in a cold sweat, and it's all a bad dream. Hope to call him to hang out at the lake.  

He’s crying, and its the worst sound you’ve ever heard. Saying he didn’t mean to become a father. He doesn’t mean to hurt you. He doesn’t know why he hurts you. He says he doesn’t want to be married to her. Calling you sweet names and cursing his own. 

You tell him over and over that it’s okay. Yet you hope he crushes you until you disappear.

 “It’s okay—Javi please, it’s okay— I understand.” You run a hand through his hair and lower your bodies to sit on the steps. It’s 2 am. He’s drunk and unable to give you details without crying in your lap now but you know all that you need to know.

When you saw her—Lorraine. When you saw her wide nose and round little belly you felt fear running through your veins. And you slept with that panic, you dismissed it but your bones felt it. Your intuition told you that the two of you will never be the same. You saw him stare at her belly for a second too long and there—right there— you knew you were in the way of something. 

Eventually he feels okay enough to sit up straight. He still can’t look at you and you miss him in your lap when he does. You miss being able to hide yourself from him. You miss being able to shut your eyes in agony at each word of consolation. Now he can see you, even if he doesn’t look you in the eye he can see you. 

You’re able to understand that she’s five months, that they gave him a choice. To never see her and his child, child— his child— or get married. Through it all you tell him it’s okay. 

“I don’t think I have another choice— I can’t be.-“

“A deadbeat.” You finish for him and he doesn’t respond. The two of you have a million unspoken words between the two of you. 

Look at me, look at what happens when you abandon your child. Look what girls like me put up with. Look at me, you hurt me and I'm still thinking of ways to make it work in my broken little brain. 

He knows what his mother did, how could he ever? How? So you could never find it in you to be angry. 

“I’m sorry— I just can’t.” 

You shut your eyes and lean back into the steps of your home. The sky was bright that night, you couldn’t understand why the universe still presented its beauty during such a moment. 

“When will you get married?” You suppose maybe you like to hurt yourself. 

“They said two weeks.” 

You drop your head into your hands and let out a sob. Heart slamming against your ribs, drowning in it. You fear that you’ll become one with earth, a puddle seeping into the grass ahead of you. You feel his panic next to you. He’s whispering your name, and tearing against the back of your head. Your shoulders wrack and you try to speak.

But you decide silence is all you can handle.

So you stay like this for a few minutes.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” You ask finally, pathetically. 

And he’s quick to nod, “Yes—please.” His deep voice sends a vibration down your spine. And the two of you walk into your home, without fear—no room for such a silly feeling. 

He undresses and you do too. 

He faces the ceiling and you fear neither of you will catch any hours tonight. You still curl into his chest, for the last time. Feeling his warm tan skin below your ear. You count his heartbeats for minutes at a time. You count your own, attempting to make it stop on your own. Your stomach hurts so badly, you may cry just from that. But you think that you’re a twenty two year old woman who is somehow all cried out. You think of the sun coming up and him getting up to leave, you wonder what the next two weeks will look like. 

You’re sure that if you could you’d stay just like this, together and avoidant until it’s time. Just like you planned a week ago when your only fear was him leaving to Colombia. 

You know he’d do the same because the two of you love pain like no other. You stay in your inferno of a brain for nearly an hour. You know he can’t sleep. 

“What are we going to do?” He asks and you frown. 

“Go our separate ways.”

“I don’t want to.” He’s quick to respond, angry.

“I know.”

“Do you want to?”

“No. But I have to. You have to.” 

“As long as I know you, I'll want you, Andrea.”

You shut your eyes and breathe. You hope he forgets you. You hope you can. You suppose you have to try. 

“After the wedding, I don’t think I’ll ever want to speak to you again.”

You feel him intake a shaky breath. Your heart breaks again. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

His chest rises, “It’s okay. I understand.” You nod, the post of the earrings he bought you scraping his skin. “We probably shouldn’t see each other after today.” He admits and you know he’s right.

“Yeah.”

“Do you think I could be a bridesmaid?” You attempt to joke and he doesn’t laugh. You can’t tell what he does but he shivers. 

“Not funny.” 

“I’m sorry.” You exhale. And there the two of you are pensive. Already missing each other. 

He sighs and it's silent once more. “I really love you.”

You sigh just the same and you love him more. You decide you couldn’t say it out loud this time.

Colombia 1988

His elbow is rested on the arm of the chair and his mouth is pressed to a fist. Eyes closed for a few moments. He thinks of the silence of that night, how he hasn't heard you say I love you since. The words that kept him going, but fuck it, he didn’t feel like he deserved it. He made their life such a mess, over and over again. Again his brain regresses to that of a child, of his own head when he was eleven, when he tore up his mothers room and stained her poetry with his tears. 

He has spent two years suffering, he knows there will be no winning. He lost you. He came here prematurely hoping to win in some way. To bring some good, save some people but he realized there's no winning here either. Just suffering and corruption. The longer he watches people die he swears his faith chips slowly with it.

So he looks over his shoulder once or twice when he leaves his session. There were very few words spoken by Dr. Hertz but what can you do when his story silences so many?

He wishes it could silence his own thoughts but instead it festers and crowds his brain in the most crucial moments. Like when he led a raid in a bar in Medellin and swore the woman who sat at the bar with a gun to her head was you. In genuine panic he freezes, the casualties raised from 24 to 25 at that moment. All because of you—him—all because of his thoughts of you, plaguing him.

And he thinks of you in the most insignificant moments. Insignificant like burying himself deep in the cunt of a woman who’s being paid. He thinks of you and can't keep it up from the guilt. What a curse it is to feel so deeply about someone. 

He remembers once, you lie beside him half asleep and mumbling like you did after sex. You said that sometimes love scares you so much that for a time you wished to never feel it. He thought of you so crazy, he fears he understands you now. 

[sitp-recs]

Recs H/D Career Fair

After an annoying fandom slump I am finally reading again 🎉 I thought this deserved to be celebrated somehow so here are my favorites from Career Fair so far. I’ll be adding fics to this list as I read more, so join me to spread the love for these while they fest is still running! :)

Fic:

🗺️ Connecting Lines, Connecting Crimes (M, 15k) - excellent geographer POC!Harry and a creative mystery full of politics and food porn

Magic is going haywire after ley lines all over the world are mysteriously failing. A cross-border Task Force is set up by the League of Wixen Nations with Expert Cartologist Draco Malfoy and Ley Line Specialist Pansy Parkinson being called in from Britain to work with Magi-Geographers Harry Potter and Parvati Patil in India. But can they get to the root of the issue before it's too late?

👻 if the bees know (T, 19k) - single dad!Draco and ghostbuster!Harry falling in love with Scorp and each other

Scorpius' playground is haunted, Harry specializes in helping ghosts pass on, and Draco just wants his son to be safe.

✍️ A Year In The Life (M, 19k) - 365 fifty-word microfics telling a love story in journal format, impressive and brilliant!

Draco Malfoy's life mightn't be the one he imagined growing up, but that doesn't matter, because Draco enjoys it nevertheless. He works at Flourish and Blotts, enjoys playing for the Islington Imps, his part-time Quidditch team, and spends his Sundays at St Neots, the home of his Mum, 'Dromeda, and Teddy. Best of all is Harry Potter, his beloved boyfriend, with whom Draco enjoys dancing, shagging, and watching Eastenders on Harry's big Muggle television. Life couldn't get any better. Life, however, has a tendency to change whenever you least expect it to.

Art:

👅 Holes (E) - tongues and piercings and hot tattoos coming together mmm

Harry gets up the nerve to get a piercing. And something else, too.

🎨 "H. J. Potter", (2019) oil on canvas, Draco Malfoy (G) - gorgeous intimate romance with artist!Draco

After building quite an illustrious career as a magical portrait artist, Draco Malfoy is commissioned to paint the official portrait for retired Head Auror and current pastry shop owner, Harry Potter, who must come to Draco's studio to sit for his portrait.

💌 Harry Potter Gets a Job (M) - hilarious and sweet with pining!Harry in denial and the Draco & Weasleys love we deserve

Harry returns home from Romania to find Arthur Weasley has a new apprentice, and there's an extra place set for dinner.

[qulizalfos]

🤔, 👻, and 🛏 for the ask game !!

hi bee my beloved🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶thank you so so much yay!!!!!!!!

🤔 - are there any new characters you want to write about? ABSOLUTELY🥳🥳in terms of fanfic i’m planning to feature the rest of the party in ch2 of cosmic and hopefullllyyy a few other st characters that don’t often make it into my fics!! i’m actually sooo excited!!!!!HDICHAJDIWJSHWHSJ. and just for the next year in general im excited to branch out characterwise 💛 plus i’ll more than likely end up writing for new fandoms<33 (ik i have like 4k of a 911 fic sitting in google docs rn that is staring at me at all times forever . but also. i can’t wait to write for more fandoms overall YAYYAY) and for original writing, im going to finish my short story and finally pin down a first draft of a novel concept i’ve been messing around with for a few years(?) ehheehehehweee

👻 - is there a new genre you’d like to write? HORROR MY BELOVED🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶i wanna weave it into as many of my works as i can because it’s something i usually didn’t go for as a writer before but as of late i have become Fascinated. also it’s just such a broad genre that there’s so much potential for different stories there. i’m SOOOO. oudhskdhshxbsusjjwhejsjwjsndhxjwjqjhs!!!! you know!!!!! keysmashed again but im on my phone and it autocorrected to sandwich. kicks rocks. anyway both of my main original wips are based on horror (if loosely) and i’m having a lot of fun so far so i can’t wait to continue :]

🛏️ - is there a new trope you’d like to write this year? 😈😈😈hehee😈. hmm i will just say Timeloop. and leave it there💛🫶😈😈 yippee teehee etc!!😈😈😈😈😈

<33 THABK YOU SOOOOOOOOIOOO much for the ask ilysm hope you’re doing well🫶🫶🫶