#don't i already have 10 wips i'm working on?

[ramiplss]

it's 3am so good morning I have wine and a fucking sore shoulder bc I can't sit like a human while I work on Him

[spikes-got-anger-issues]

Someone help me with fic writing or I will perish

[thewickwheat]

I'm going to a post full details under the cut, but a short run down:

I've sort of vaguely mentioned this here and there but this year I'm forcing myself to go on a long hiatus. Its been something in the plans for years now, but I can't put it off any longer because 2024 was the worst wrist pain I've dealt with and I don't want to risk permanently damaging myself if I haven't already.

If you're waiting on a comm, don't worry! My hiatus won't officially start until I've finished them all up (estimating April-May to finish up everything), so just bare with me!

Character Sheet comms are staying open

If you're able and willing to support me during this break, please check out my shops or my Patreon!

Ko-Fi - Physical/Digital Merch + Donations

INPRNT - Physical Prints

Patreon - Process Videos and WiPs

Full details and extra info under the cut

So this has been a long time coming but this year I’ll be taking a long hiatus. This is something I’ve wanted to do for years but I can’t put it off any longer due to how bad my wrist pain was in 2024. I’m feeling incredibly burnt out as well and my turn around times growing longer and longer is a very clear sign of it. It also means I’ve had a growing anxiety that if I continue at this pace I will end up doing permanent damage to my body, if I haven’t already. Creating art is the one thing I know I want to do for the rest of my life, be that drawing for myself or helping other people see their visions come to life, and I don’t want to put that at risk.  

So I can’t put my hiatus off any longer and I’m making this year the start. If you are still waiting on a commission from me, don’t worry! I am going to keep working on them and my official hiatus time won’t start until everything has been finished up. I’m estimating April to May to get everything cleared off the table since I’m going to work at a steady pace. Character sheet commissions are going to remain open, they are not in high demand and I can put them in a queue and so should anyone have interest in one during my hiatus, it could be something I pick up when I need the extra cash. However all other types of commissions are going to be unavailable for the foreseeable future. 

I am aiming for a 6 month long hiatus at the least. If I can go longer I will aim for a full year break. Freelance and commission work has been my main source of income for over 10 years now, so during this time I may also look into getting a part time job so I don't have to rely so heavily on art, which will also affect how much I’ll be able to take on in the future. I’m not quitting art during this hiatus, I do want to keep drawing and creating! But I will be working at a slower pace, creating for myself, experimenting and trying other projects. I also have more merch ideas on the list to work on! I’ve got some plush designs I want to have made,namely a new Zenos plush that will have doll fiber hair that can be brushed and styled.

I will also design more tag style keychains with more XIV characters (like the Scions and other major NPCs), since people have really liked those a lot! I’ll also plan out some other ideas and maybe design some original design plushies or other merch. We’ll see!

If anyone enjoys my work and wants to help support me during my hiatus, please check out my available merch. I have prints on INPRNT, and a variety of items on Ko-Fi (limited prints, artbooks both physical and digital, keychains, stickers, etc.), I also have a patreon where I post process videos of illustrations. You can also drop donations of my Ko-Fi. I will be adding a goal that I’ll set at a high amount I don't expect to reach, just because I personally want a visual of donations or purchases during my break. Even small donations would mean a lot. If only 10% of my followers on twitter or tumblr bought a single Ko-Fi donation, it would be a substantial amount of money. I say this not to guilt folks into donating, but to point out small donations can still have a lot of power. And so I appreciate any support at all!

Thank you so much if you read this entire message. It means a lot to me and I hope a good long break means when I’m  able to get back to commission and freelance I’ll approach them with much more vigor and skill!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Lonely Souls Club 10

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as stalking, loneliness, noncon, 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: Two lost souls cross, but not all those are lost, want to be found.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

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!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Reader

Bucky puts a lap table across you. You thank him quietly and stare at the wall to your left. You're embarrassed. You never ate in bed, even if bed was your only place to sit. You could always get up and feed yourself.

He puts a container in front of you. Another thanks. He adds a can of ginger ale.

"Didn't know what you liked," he says.

"It's fine," you assure him.

He nods and sits sideways just on the other side of the table. He reaches into the paper bag with a crinkle. He takes out another container and balances it on his lap.

You chew your lip. The smell is driving you crazy. You're hungry. Very hungry. You don't eat much as it is and you never eat anything that takes very much effort. If it's not a lack of money, it's a lack of strength. Your stomach roars.

Bucky chuckles, "you're hungry."

"Um, yeah," you admit. Your body can't help but betray you.

He opens his container and you slowly do the same. The sudden release of the aroma has your mouth watering. You focus on unwrapping the utensils. Your hands are shaking.

Slow down. You make an effort to be patient. You don't want to show how your stomach feels ready to cave in on itself. He saws at the chicken in his container.

"I got grilled... wasn't in the mood for fried," he sounds almost apologetic.

"It looks great," you murmur as you slice off a tender morsel of meat.

Quietly you taste it. You could moan. It's so good. The texture, the flavour, everything. You have some of the rice next. It's wonderful too. And the seasonal mix of broccoli is perfectly steamed.

Your eyes sting. The food is so good, it's almost tear-inducing. And it's so much food. You could split it into three meals. That's what you would do if it was just you. Not quite full portions but enough to get buy.

You pace yourself. You take a bite of each in a cycle; meat, rice, veggie. You fill up quickly. 

You open the ginger ale and gulp. You cough as the carbonation burns your nose. You cover your mouth and glance at Bucky. He's already watching you. You take the napkin from beside the container and wipe your mouth.

"Sorry..."

"For what?" He asks.

"I just... hope I wasn't eating loud or anything."

"Nope. Just happy you're eating," he shrugs.

"Um, yeah, er." You fold up the napkin. "Think I'm done for now. I'm full."

"You sure?" He arches a brow at your leftovers.

"Can I finish later? Tomorrow?" You twist the napkin nervously. "I'm sorry. I don't want to waste it but I can't eat anymore."

"That's fine," he assures gently. "You like it?"

"Sure. It was yummy. Better than... well, just good."

"Mm," he hums and looks at his food. He closes the container, sticking the knife and fork in the side so they stand up.

"You can keep eating."

"I'm good," he stands and turns to you. You close up the container and hand it over. He takes it and stacks it on his. "Get you anything else?"

"No, no. You've done more than enough." You lower your chin and sip on the ginger ale.

He lingers for a moment before he retreats. He takes the paper bag with him. You stare at the metal tab on the can.

It's strange. You're uncomfortable about being here. Somewhere strange, somewhere not your own. You're an imposition. Yet, there's something that isn't so uncomfortable. It's a new but not unkind feeling to have someone want to take care of you.

You drain about half the can. When Bucky gets back, sets it on the night table and moves the tray from your lap. You lean back into the pillows. The weight in your stomach makes you yawn.

"Tired?" He asks.

"Sorry, yes," you clutch the collar of the borrowed shirt.

"Don't be. You should get some sleep. It's the best medicine."

You scoff, "yeah, well, afraid it can't fix me."

His expression softens. "I know, I'm sorry."

"No, I am. I'm not trying to be... well... I guess I am bitter, but... I appreciate everything. I'm just tired."

"Of course. I'll let you get some shut eye. You need anything, I'll be around," he backs up toward the door.

"Thank you. I won't though. I can't ask for anything else."

He turns and hovers hand by the light switch, "want this off?"

"If you don't mind."

"Sure thing, doll."

He flicks it and steps through the door. He pulls it shut but it doesn't click. You slide down and adjust the pillows. The effort exhausts you. You roll onto your side and groan, rubbing your bad hip.

The mattress is so nice. So cushy. Not like your lump one where you can feel the metal frame beneath. You sigh. Your muscles slacken and your eyes close on their own. It's nice to just relax.

Bucky

Bucky puts away the food. He didn't expect her to eat it all but how little she did, concerns him. It suggests that it's been a while since she had a full plate.

He's not very hungry himself. He's nervous. He finally has her with him, yet it doesn't feel real. She's still shy, still standoffish. She needs to adjust. He knows that.

He remembers when he was afraid. Sometimes he still is. When he came out of the darkness and had to face the world. Had to acknowledge all those things he'd done to survive.

He sits on the stairs again. It's like he's on watch at the foxhole again. That was a very long time ago. He remembers the dark nights, the looming threat of shells or gunfire. He thought then that he was as tainted as he could be. War never leaves any untouched.

Now, he sees that man as naive. A man who can't fathom the basest acts of humanity. A man who believed in humanity.

He cradles his head. He's tired. He hasn't been sleeping. What's new about that?

He stays like that until he's too anxious to be still. He turns and climbs the stairs. He keeps his footsteps light. He walks down to the bedroom door and hovers his hand by it. He recoils and retraces his steps. He goes into the bathroom.

He leaves the door open. He can hear her even with it shut but just in case. He cranks on the shower head and lets it patter against the curtain until it steams. He undresses and leaves the clothes in a pile. He stares at his reflection. 

He feels the mottled flesh around his left shoulder. He hooks his hand around and drags it. His arm releases and he puts it on the counter. He stands straighter without it, listing a bit to the right instead.

The other scars catch his eye. Thick slices on his rib cage, stray lines on his chest and stomach. There's more on the thighs. He knows not all were a prize of combat. Many were Hydra tools.

He steps under the hot water and lets the memories flow away. He's not that man sitting watch outside the foxhole, he's not the shell filled with the cruelty of others, he's not even the scared man who woke up in another century. He's feeling like himself. He's feeling whole. Just to have her near.

He washes methodically, at time mechanically. As he shuts off the faucet, he listens for her. He can hear how slow her breaths are. She's sleeping. That's good.

He ruffles his hair with the towel, absorbing most of the excess. He dries his face and neck, his chest. He feels a twitch at the thought that colours his mind. He thinks of her hands on the towel, guiding it over his skin. What would she say about all the scars?

He wraps the towel around his waist and goes to the door. He stands in the frame as he shuts the light out and gazes down at the bedroom. He doesn't move for a while.

The warmth of the shower cloys around him. He's tired now. He makes his way down the hallway. He pushes on the door so it inches open slowly. He sees her silhouette in the dim. She's on her side, her hand on her hip as if she'd fallen asleep rubbing it.

He goes around the other side and watches her. Gently, he lowers himself into the empty space. The bed doesn't feel so big now. He shifts down onto his side as he slides beneath the duvet. He tugs it up past her waist.

He keeps his hand on her arm. Her heat seeps into his palm. She doesn't react. He drags his touch up then down. She doesn't stir. He tracks her pulse to make sure.

He caresses her gently as her breaths push through her dry lips. He lifts himself to move closer to her. He dips his hand under her arm and follows the curve of her side. Up, then down. A little firmer than below. He feels her ease into his touch even as she remains asleep.

He shudders as his hand falls down to her stomach. What are you doing, sarge? He grazes up her torso and holds his breath as he cups her chest, just enough to feel the swell. His insides are churning. Stop.

He can't. He wants to be close to her forever. He wants to drape himself around her so no one else can ever hurt her, though her own body seems to be her greatest enemy.

He trails his hand back down and fumbles with the hem of her shirt. He pushes his hand beneath the baggy fabric and over her naked skin. She's soft and warm and intoxicating. He moves even closer, until he's flush to her back.

He nuzzles her head and kisses her hair. A groan escapes him as he slips his hand up to fondle her chest. He circles her nipple as it goes rigid, tracing it with his thumb as he purrs.

His hips move without a thought. He's throbbing and hard. He tilts against her, the bed rocking with him. He buries his nose in her hair and bites his lip.

Stop, stop, stop. He wants to stop but not as badly as he wants to keep going.

His breath plumes hotly from his nostrils as he chokes on a grunt. His stomach is heavy and his core thrumming. His thighs strain and cramp as he fights the peak. He's almost there. Almost...

He closes his eyes and pushes his head back as he gropes her tightly. He spasms as he cums and his motion peters out. He heaves and stays against her until he can move again.

He rolls onto his back with a sigh. He pushes the blanket down and peels away the slimy towel. It's all over. On his thighs, his pelvis, the cotton. It's so much he can smell it.

He listens to her. She whimpers. His heart pumps and he sits up. No, no, did she wake up?

She whimpers again and her foot kicks. She snorts. He focuses on her heartbeat. She's dreaming. He exhales in relief.

"I know, doll. You hurt bad," he puts his hand on her hip gently. "I'm gonna make it better."

[kimbapisnotsushi]

hey all, it's sou. a lot of you usually follow me for my haikyuu!! content since i started posting in 2021, and i really appreciate that! (especially since i shitpost about several other series, ha.) it's been great having you guys here, and i've felt so much support and love from so many of you. i love the space that i've cultivated for myself and the people who love my work, and it's one of the hobbies that's made me happiest over the past four years. but i know i haven't been keeping up with that part for the last year or so—and for good reason, as i'm sure many of you are aware.

i know a lot of us are doing what we can to help gaza, but sometimes donating, sharing, calling and emailing reps, and other actions don't feel like enough—especially when israel's just broken the ceasefire that had made so many hopeful it would end. it's absolutely devastating and i know it feels like there's very little we can do at this point. i'm not willing to give up just yet, though, so here's the deal:

Donation Rules ● Donate to any Palestinian's fundraiser directly or to any credible relief organization (<- some active ones provided, if you don't have ones you already have in mind) and DM me a screenshot of the receipt to request a fic! The donations are as follows: ● $5: Fic of 1500 words minimum ($.0033 per word) ● $10: Fic of 5000 words minimum ($.0020 per word) ● $15: Fic of 8000 words minimum ($.0019 per word) ● (I'm using USD because that's where I'm from—if you're willing from anywhere else in the world, then please partake! I know the exchange can be a bitch, so donating to organizations that your country has for the cause or ones that take all currencies in similar amounts work as well) ● If you only have the means to donate less than $5 or are only capable of reblogging fundraisers, info, educating yourself, emailing/calling, and other such actions to help, then you can still join! DM me the receipt screenshot (in the case of a donation) or send me a 🍉 to let me know that you're supporting in other ways (even reblogging this post counts!), and you can request a drabble or headcanons list of any sort!

Fic Request Rules ● List of series/fandoms I can write for is in the tags ● If you'd like a comprehensive list of things I've read/are reading, check here to see if they match anything you like! I'm also willing to write for anything on that list, i just figured a lot of them aren't series that people would read fics for ● Customizable means you can choose any prompt/au, ship (reader inserts as well), NSFW (only if you're 18+) or SFW, etc. within my comfort zone. I'll write for any and every character, no matter how small they are :) ● I'm NOT comfortable writing things like incest, underage sex scenes, inappropriate/illegal relationships between a character considered a minor and an adult, or excessive violence and gore. If you're ever unsure of what would cross my lines, we can absolutely talk about it!

I understand that I don't have much of a rep in other fandoms aside from Haikyuu!!, so here are some samples of WIPs on this doc. you can also look through my tag #sou writes stuff or my ao3 (of which please only pay attention to the most recent works, as that's how i write like the most right now)! If you like what you read, I'll write just like that for any request :)

PSA I am ONE SINGLE PERSON on top of all this. It may take a while, especially with the longer fics, but I do promise to get through every request I get. I'm aware I'm asking for a lot of trust and patience, and I appreciate all of it.

if you've read this through to the end, thank you, seriously. We're not alone in this. Let's aim for a better world.

[lunarmoves]

shay's writing commissions!

CURRENT STATUS: CLOSED

SLOTS FILLED: 0 out of 4

hey guys! i've decided to open commissions to help me fund my venture to graduate school! i will be opening 4 slots at a time, depending on the word count requests i receive. they will be done on a first come, first serve basis through tumblr dm and paid for through ko-fi or paypal. the options i'm offering are for one-shots and a wip sponsorship. more details are below the cut!

one-shots:

these will be fics following either a prompt or a detailed request supplied by you! the maximum word count i am willing to write is 12k. all fics will be [character] x reader/self-insert and will be written in second (or third, if that is your preference) person. they will also be completely non-gender (no pronouns used in fic) unless specified otherwise.

pricing:

↬ 500 words -> $10 ↬ 1,000 words -> $20 ↬ 1,500 words -> $30 ↬ 2,000 -> $40 ↬ 2,500 -> $50 ↬ 3,000 -> $60 ↬ 3,500 -> $70

....and so on.

note: if i go above the word count for whichever commission is purchased, i will not charge for it! :)

fandoms + characters i will write for:

↬ fnaf -> sun, moon, eclipse (NOT tsams nor sun x moon) ↬ pressure -> sebastian solace ↬ bnha -> bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku ↬ lego monkie kid -> sun wukong, six-eared macaque

i am open to writing canon-compliant fics, my own aus, or your own aus, not anyone else's. details regarding any au will be properly hashed out through dm :)

will write:

↬ fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, horror, comedy ↬ suggestive/implied themes ↬ romantic or platonic relationships ↬ major character death, mild violence, mild body horror/gore ↬ light yandere, obsessive/possessive behavior ↬ predator/prey dynamics (if i have written it on my blog, it is safe to request!)

won't write:

↬ infidelity ↬ heavy nsfw/smut ↬ minor/adult relationships, underage ↬ incest ↬ offensive themes, bigotry

if you are uncertain as to what i will/won't write, don't hesitate to ask! i am always down to negotiate.

how it works:

↬ if you are interested in commissioning me for a one-shot, please send me a tumblr dm so we can hash out details (i.e. length, plot, themes, etc). if the slots have been filled already or i am busy working on other commissions, i will inform you and place you on a waitlist! once a slot opens, i will contact you to see if you still want a commission.

↬ through dm, supply me with the prompt/detailed request and we will work through ideas together as i make an outline. afterwards, i will send you the outline, and upon getting your stamp of approval (following any edits), i will start on your fic! if you're unsure about specific details for the fic, no worries; i am totally okay with writing to my own whims if you'll let me c:

↬ once i have started on your commission, please send me half of the payment through ko-fi or paypal. the rest will be requested once the fic is finished, and then i will send you it either by posting it on tumblr (with your permission) or as a pdf via email (or both!)

↬ please be patient with me once i have started writing your commission! if i have not gotten back to you at all after 5 days, feel free to reach out for an update! i will provide you with daily updates regardless, but in the event that i forget, don't be scared to give me a little nudge!

wip sponsorship:

additionally, via tumblr dm, you may choose any of my wips to 'sponsor' along with a word count of your choosing, and i will add it to the most recent chapter currently being worked on. prices for word counts are the same as the ones listed under 'one-shots'.

once i have confirmed the wip and have started writing (given that i am not busy with other commissions), please send me half of the payment through ko-fi or paypal. the latter half will be requested once i have added the full amount of requested words (which i will confirm with a screenshot of the document's word count).

once the full payment is received, i will share what i have written with you! this will be done in an ask that you must send me (anonymous or not). if you wish for it to remain private, let me know in said ask and i will answer it privately (note: you will have to be off anon for me to answer in private).

the wips in question are:

who i see, looking back at me (sebastian solace x reader) ↬ current wc (ch6): 0 out of ~10,000

love from the other side (of the apocalypse) (dca x reader) ↬ current wc (ch2): 9,024 out of ~25,000

through pixel eyes (dca x reader) ↬ current wc (ch3): 1,904 out of ~5,000

these summer nights (dca x reader) ↬ current wc (ch3): 1,900 out of ~10,000

[on my alt blog, sipsteainanxiety]:

holding out (just for you) (bakugou x reader) ↬ current wc (ch4): 6,434 out of ~15,000

and i give my all (to you) (bakugou x reader) ↬ current wc (ch2): 2,905 out of ~8,000

(total word counts are estimated and may likely increase or decrease since i have a tendency to incorrectly judge how long my fics will actually be lol)

if you want to be credited as a sponsor/supporter when the fic eventually gets posted (either with your blog tagged, a name, or simply as 'anonymous'), please let me know through dm!

in a similar vein, if there have been any ideas or drabbles i've thrown out on my blog that you are interested in seeing me elaborate on, you may request that as well via dm! (i.e. bleeding wires au, cursed dolls au, dca alien au, any dca mer aus, falling in a forest au, etc). it will be considered as a 'one-shot', with the same pricing listed above.

note: some of those ideas/drabbles i do intend to eventually write as long-fics. you may request specific scenes of those wips or for me to simply start writing them. while i will share what i have written with you, i cannot guarantee that i will still continue to work on those wips afterwards. this also applies to the multi-chaptered wips listed above.

extra information:

↬ you can request to be listed as 'anonymous' should your commission be posted to tumblr.

↬ please try not to cancel your commission after i've started writing it; i will not be giving a refund at this point, especially since the outline will have been written and the first half of payment sent to me.

↬ commissions for requested one-shots will not be posted on ao3. wip sponsorships, however, will be on ao3 (and tumblr) for the associated fic (if it's one of my current multi-chapter fics) should i finish the chapter(s).

↬ if anything is too confusing or unclear, feel free to send me an ask or dm to clarify!

you can always support me without putting in a commission on ko-fi as well! c: thanks for reading! <3

[mikibwrites]

In the garden of evil, honey

Hello all, please have this as a token of my apology for taking almost two years to post it lol. I'm still working on Trueblood Tarlos, don't you worry, but this has been sitting in my wips for FAR too long :) Tags at the bottom are folks who showed interest, please let me know if you don't want to be tagged! <3

7.4k | Rated: M | Supernatural AU | Read on Ao3

The first time Carlos ever saw TK Strand, he was playing honeypot for a vampire. 

Carlos didn’t know this, of course, at the time. He’d simply caught sight of the most devastating green eyes he’d ever seen in his life, blinking innocently up at a tall, thin man with greed in his smile. What gave away the vamp himself was the smooth, lascivious way he’d run a finger delicately down this pretty man’s arm, full of possessive intent. Vampires just had a way of asserting their aura in a room: look at me, you can’t touch me, but I can own you. 

The thought, coupled with the sight of the pretty man’s sweet, naive smile as he threw back the last of his drink and got up to follow the vampire out of the bar, made Carlos shiver in disgust before he had the wherewithal to jump up and follow them. He was not about to let some innocent person become dinner on his watch. 

Carlos stealthily made his way out of the bar and around to the alley in back, gleaming 10-inch Bowie knife already in his hand. It wasn’t the most efficient way to behead a vamp–the only way you could kill them–but he wasn’t in the practice of bringing his machete on nights out to drown his loneliness. He’d make do, he’d have to.

Turns out, he didn’t have to use it at all.

The scene that greeted him in the alley stopped him short. The tall, thin vampire laid on the ground in two pieces, his head still rolling before catching up against the dirty brick wall on the side of the building. The pretty man was there, looking bored. There was another man in the alley with him, older but still ridiculously handsome, holding a…sword? The blade was bloody and dripping, and the man holding it looked absolutely delighted. 

“See? I told you it would work! Best purchase I’ve ever made with someone else’s money!” the older man said, gleeful and bright. On further inspection, the resemblance between the object of Carlos’ attention and this other man was uncanny. Unless the younger one was an accident of extremely late in life birth, this was a father and son. 

And, obviously, they knew what they were doing. So, hunters, Carlos surmised. 

At the moment of his realization, as he started putting away his knife in relief, the younger man turned on him with a confused and slightly irritated expression.

“What the hell are you doing here? Did you follow me?” 

“Well, I thought you might be in danger, and–”

“Do I look like a damsel in distress to you? What the fuck were you thinking? You were just gonna stare at me all night, then as soon as I left with another guy you’d come after us and, I don’t know, lay claim for my hand or something? And you could have been killed for it–”

“I wouldn’t have, I know what I’m doing,” Carlos said, a little indignantly because really, did he look like an incompetent idiot? 

“Son, calm down. Look, he’s one of us.” The older man, still holding his ridiculously large sword–and really, did he carry that around everywhere? Just out in the open?--began walking toward his son and Carlos, who had unconsciously moved closer to each other amid their snarking. 

Carlos saw the son take in his whole appearance, including the knife still dangling in his hand, and scoffed.

“You expected to kill a vamp with a pig sticker?” This was accompanied by a derisive laugh that really should not have been as ridiculously attractive as it was, considering Carlos was the object of said derision. But the heart and the dick want what they want. 

Still, Carlos wasn’t going to not defend himself. “Trust me, I can slice off a bloodsucker’s head with a butter knife if I have to. Not all of us carry medieval weapons with us to the goddamn bar.” 

The father looked offended for a moment, admiring his sword once again before directing his attention back at Carlos. “Please excuse him, he doesn’t work well with others. I’m sure you understand, being a hunter yourself. We’re not exactly a sociable bunch.”

Carlos conceded the point. He was used to other hunters being tight knit with their own, and distrustful of almost anyone else. It came with seeing the things you saw in this life. 

“I’m Owen, and Mr. Grumpy here is my son, TK.” Owen put his hand out, and Carlos shook it. 

“Carlos, pleased to meet you both,” he said politely. His own hand came away a little bloody, and Owen looked chagrined for a moment. 

TK, for his part, was finally relaxing in Carlos’ presence, accepting the fact that Carlos hadn’t been barreling headlong into a suicide mission as TK had obviously first thought. His irritation was turning, wildly, into admiration by the minute, judging by the not exactly covert once–and then twice–over look he gave Carlos while his dad’s back was turned. He said nothing, though. 

“Well, I think we best be on our way,” Owen said as he bent down to begin picking up the body. “A hand here, son?”

TK gave Carlos one more look, then shuffled over to help Owen pick up the dead weight and toss it into a nearby dumpster. Carlos took it upon himself to palm the head, lifting it up and casually tossing it in the open container before Owen let the lid slam down over their gruesome quarry. 

“Was nice to meet you, Carlos. See you on the flip!” Owen called, already making his way out of the alley. 

“Likewise, sir,” he answered with a small smile. TK made to follow his father, having to walk close by Carlos in the small width of the alley. Carlos just couldn’t resist the words that came next, the magnetism from TK pulling at him to not let this man get away, even knowing it was fruitless. “So, that your type?” he asked, gesturing vaguely back to the dumpster. “Tall, possessive men with evil intent?”

TK didn’t miss a beat, and what he said next sealed Carlos’ fate even though he didn’t know it at the time. 

“Nah, I like my men tall, dark, chivalrous, and good with butter knives.” He smirked devilishly, looking up through his eyelashes, and pushed past Carlos out of the alley. 

Carlos had never swooned in his life, and he did his best not to start now, but he couldn’t have said if he was successful. 

–

They met again, as fate or luck or destiny would have it, three weeks and four states later at a bar called Ryder’s. It was run by a hunter couple who, for all intents and purposes, were retired, but no one ever left this life completely. It was a nice place to be amongst like-minded people, people who had seen and heard and survived the same horrendous things, and you could unwind knowing no one was going to judge you. Hunters, as a general rule, had very specific neuroses that didn’t sit well with normal people most of the time. 

Carlos entered the bar at 3pm on a Tuesday, and walked right into Owen as he was stepping out. 

“Carlos! Nice to see you again. Been staying out of trouble?” he smiled.

“Not at all, sir,” Carlos joked. 

Owen chuckled.“I know all about that. I heard about that djinn den you broke up last week. Hell of a job, son.” Hearing the approval of a father, even if it wasn’t his own, was sobering and it took Carlos a moment to respond. 

“Oh, that was all Iris, sir. My partner. She’s the mastermind.” It was true. Iris was the best hunter Carlos had ever met, and he’d met plenty over the last three years. She had her struggles, but the way her mind worked in twisty bends and blunt reality at turns was truly an advantage in their line of work. Carlos was just the muscle most days, but he kept up. 

“I’d love to meet her,” Owen said, “pick her brain sometime.” 

“You can, sir, if you’d like. She’s meeting me here.” 

“I look forward to it. Just gotta grab something from the truck.”

Carlos bid Owen a temporary farewell and made his way to the bar, eyes unconsciously searching. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping the son wasn’t far from the father. He was right, it turned out, and he found TK at the end of the bar, chatting with Grace as she wiped out a pint glass. 

“Hey, Carlos! Long time no see,” Grace greeted him with a smile. It caused TK to whip his head around to stare before his face cracked into a grin. 

“Well, well. Fancy meeting you here and not in a dark alley.” Carlos got lost in his beautiful green eyes for a moment before he could respond, and TK was still speaking. “To be fair, though, I wouldn’t be opposed to meeting you anywhere.”

Carlos coughed a bit, his eyes cutting to Grace as she laughed and moved over to a pair of women flagging her down. 

“That so?” Carlos finally said as he slid onto the stool next to TK. 

“Mmm.”

Carlos roughly turned the conversation into something resembling small talk, and they chatted for a long while before a familiar song lit up the jukebox, the down and dirty guitar riffs sinking into Carlos’ veins. He steeled his resolve, and took a chance.

He cut his eyes over to the dancefloor and back to TK. “Hey. You wanna dance?”

TK contemplated for a moment, the music suffusing into the room and filling their ears with a sultry energy. Finally, he answered, “No.”

“No?” Carlos was taken aback, but TK’s expression had shifted from good-natured into something else entirely. It sent shivers down Carlos’ spine in the best way.

“No, I don’t wanna dance. I wanna meet you in a dark alley.” TK raised an eyebrow at him before getting up and sauntering across the room, pausing at the back door and looking back at Carlos, frozen on his stool. TK jerked his head, and that finally got Carlos moving. 

When Carlos found him, TK was leaned up against the battered wood siding, one foot propped up against the wall, smirking. Carlos strode up to him and immediately placed his hands on TK’s waist. 

“So. You lured me out here. What now?”

“Well, we don’t exactly have much time before someone finds us out here, and I share a motel room with my dad so that’s out.” He quirked an eyebrow, silently asking if Carlos had any ideas. 

“I’m afraid Iris and I didn’t mean to stay long, so I haven’t got a motel room of my own at the moment.” To be fair, Carlos also wouldn’t leave Iris here at Ryder’s to satisfy his lust anyway, he wasn’t that kind of guy. However, TK was making him seriously question a good number of his morals. 

“Back alley blowjob it is, then,” TK said simply, before dropping to his knees. 

–

After that, Carlos and Iris ran into TK and Owen more frequently than he could’ve predicted, which he’d later learn was all TK’s doing. His husband would admit this much, much later as in the early days, TK did his best to seem aloof and hard to get–despite their second meeting resulting in mutual orgasms. He’d rock Carlos’ entire world and leave without a trace, only to turn up a couple of months later to nag Carlos about his knife collection, the way he staked out a mark, or–on one memorable occasion–the type of beer he was buying in a roadside gas station in Pennsylvania. 

“You’re really gonna drink a Keystone Light after that?” TK asked from behind him, startling Carlos more than he’d care to admit. ‘That’ referred the days-long job in which Carlos and Iris had weeded out a particularly adept shapeshifter and finally brought her down. Carlos didn’t ask how TK had heard of a job he’d completed less than six hours ago, because he’d learned over the course of the past year that TK just knew these things. Especially about Carlos. “I thought you were a Texan. Not gonna go for the Shiner?”

Carlos, too smitten at this point to do any kind of arguing, made the switch just to see the way TK’s eyes danced knowingly under the dim strip lighting. 

“What are you drinking, then? You drove all this way from Ohio just to berate my beer choices, I might as well buy you one for your trouble.” Carlos himself was also unusually abreast of where and what TK was doing at any given moment.

TK raised his eyebrows at Carlos’ knowledge of his whereabouts, but simply said, “I don’t.”

And Carlos…had noticed that over these past few months. It was strange for a hunter not to self-medicate, with the things they saw and did, but he’d never begrudge anyone their coping mechanisms, whatever they were. Clearly either TK was into harder things, or he had some other secret way to unwind. 

Carlos learned later that it used to be the first option, that TK would do his best to numb his body and mind with whatever he could get his hands on in the years after his mother was killed, but that over time his father had brought him back from the brink and he’d turned a new leaf right around the time they’d met for the first time. To this day he still struggled, but Carlos was there for him every step of the way. 

They met and fell into bed together nearly every chance they got over the next two years. When it came time that Owen decided he could better serve the community by teaming up with Judd to increase the knowledge base hunters worked with, and when Iris’ sister Michelle came back from England and convinced Iris she wanted in, well. It made sense for Carlos to bid Iris a tearful–not permanent, they promised–goodbye and he and TK packed their combined arsenals into Carlos’ flashy Camaro–

“So fucking impractical, oh my god! It’s tiny, it doesn’t hold nearly enough in the trunk, and it’s distinctive as hell! How in the fuck do you manage to keep a low profile with this thing? The cops are bound to know you!”

“It’s fast,” was Carlos’ smug answer. 

–and headed out on their own. They made a name for themselves quite quickly, taking out whole vampire dens and weeding out shifters and werewolves and djinns up and down the highways of every US state. They had ins with local groups based on Owen’s name, but soon they were holding their own among the hunter community as a formidable team. TK was a skilled marksman, one of the best snipers Carlos had ever met, and a talented con man, smiling and charming his way into anyone’s good graces, especially their marks–not unlike he was doing when Carlos first met him all that time ago–and Carlos had taken everything Iris had ever taught him about research and planning and waiting for the precise moment to heart, able to suss out patterns and motives TK was continuously impressed by.

Also, he was still ‘disgustingly talented’ with a knife. TK’s words, as he’d kissed him deeply and wholly inappropriately three feet from a dissolving corpse in the middle of an abandoned schoolhouse. 

They’d encountered more than their fair share of demons, with the mounting numbers of them clawing their way up from hell, but Carlos had a sigil carved into the back of his watch and TK had a medallion around his neck that his father had given him when he was 17 that he never took off. They were safe, they were skilled, and they were efficient. 

Six months into hunting together and nearly four years into their dance of knowing each other, TK proposed with a piece of wire he’d nicked from a hardware store, folded into a ring shape and presented on one knee in the alley behind Ryder’s. Carlos would swear to his grave, in every retelling they recounted for their friends, that he hadn’t cried, but they both knew better. 

Their romance was like hunting itself: wild but precise, loud but stealthy, adrenaline followed by the calm after the storm. Guaranteed to keep going long into the unknown. 

–

It happened on an innocuous Tuesday, no job in town but they’d stopped because they heard the ice cream shop on main street in this tiny town had a boysenberry flavor and TK couldn’t be reasoned with when he wanted something, and Carlos couldn’t be arsed to tell him no. 

They enjoyed their ice cream while walking up the nearly deserted street, when something crawled across the back of Carlos’ neck. A warning. A sixth sense. He didn’t need to turn to TK to know he’d felt it too, in his own way. 

“The general store over there,” TK said lowly, his hand creeping into place at the small of Carlos’ back, a silent reassurance that they were in this together. 

Carlos glanced across the street, not seeing anything out of the ordinary, but still getting that persistent feeling in his gut that something was wrong. “Let’s go.”

The bell rang cheerily as they entered, and there was an older man with a thick beard standing behind the counter. His voice shook when he greeted them, and Carlos’ hackles raised higher. 

“Hi, fellas. W-What can I do you for?” 

TK immediately slid into charm mode. “Just looking for some twine, sir. Our trunk won’t seem to shut, the latch is broken, gotta get that looked at,” he rubbed the back of his head self-deprecatingly, smiling bashfully, “you got any strong stuff we could use?”

The man didn’t relax, but smiled as best he could. Carlos, meanwhile, was casing the store looking for anything out of place. When he circled toward the back, near the door marked Staff Only, he found a few seed packets that had fallen from their display on the wall adjacent. It wasn’t until he heard the pained gasp from behind the door, faint but audible, that his instincts fully kicked in. He glanced at TK and the older man, nearer to the middle of the store where the man was showing TK a few rolls of twine. They locked eyes, and Carlos tilted his head toward the door. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything stronger, would you? Maybe in the back?” TK asked innocently, gesturing toward where Carlos was standing. 

The man’s face paled. “I-I don’t know, I-”

Carlos strode over to him as calmly as possible. He wasn’t as good at the con game as TK was, so he led with the straightforward truth. “Sir, are you in danger?” The man paled further, but didn’t seem inclined to talk. “If you’re not, then is someone else?” He again tilted his head toward the door at the back. 

TK had dropped his act as well. “We can help you, trust us.” His eyes bore nothing but truth, and they seemed to soften the man a bit. 

“M-my…my wife. She’s–my son and daughter are–oh god…” the man said in a pained whisper.

“Sir?”

“When we all came in today–we own the place, we all pitch in–my kids were…not themselves. They told me to stay out here and they took her back there and…and sometimes I hear screams.” His voice cracked on the last bit. “This isn’t them, I swear they aren’t like this! It isn’t them!” He was whisper shouting, clearly still afraid of what was behind the door. “They said they’ll kill her if I go back there.”

Carlos placed a hand on his shoulder. “What are their names? Your kids.”

“Lindy and Zach. My wife’s name is Melissa.” When TK and Carlos immediately started towards the front door, he grabbed both their arms. “Wait! Where are you going? I thought you said you’d help us!”

“Just gotta get a few things from the car, we’ll be right back,” TK assured him. 

When they returned, carrying a book and a bottle of holy water, the man eyed them wearily. “You got any salt?” Carlos asked. The man just pointed at a far shelf, and Carlos helped himself to three pint containers. “Wait here, no matter what you hear, do not come back there, okay?”

He looked at them incredulously. “What are you going to do?” 

“We’re gonna save your wife and kids, sir, but we need to be quick about it, otherwise they’ll get away.” 

The man was still looking at them like they were crazy–which they were used to from the general public–but he apparently wanted any kind of help at this point so he let them go. 

When TK opened the door to the back room, Lindy and Zach were standing over their mother, tied to a chair, looking like they’d used her for knifework practice. Slices and cuts littered her arms, legs, and neck, and her head was hanging limply as blood flowed out of every wound in a steady trickle. Considering they didn’t know how long this had been going on, Carlos erred on the side of caution and assessed she’d need medical attention pretty quickly. 

Upon their arrival, the two teenagers turned to look at them, their eyes gleaming black, and Carlos’ heart lurched. 

Demons. 

“Come to join the party, hunters?” the girl said. 

“Come to give you an express ride back downstairs,” TK said with a grin as Carlos dropped down to line the exit with salt. 

TK ripped the cork out of his bottle of holy water and splashed them both with it, hitting the mother but clearly not causing any harm. They both screamed, and the girl hit the ground but the boy made for the back wall. 

“Shit,” Carlos muttered, watching as the possessed Zach kicked open a back door leading out into an alley between buildings before he kicked into gear and followed. He paused at the door to look back at TK, who already had the book out, flipped open to the quickest exorcism text they had.

“Go! I got it here.”

Carlos spared one more moment to take in his husband, then bolted. Demons were strong, sure, but they had limitations based on the body they possessed, and Zach was a stringy, short kid who couldn’t be more than 14, so Carlos was on him in under a minute. They grappled to the ground, and Zach spit some choice words in his face before Carlos took the container of salt still in his hand and emptied it down his throat. 

The black smoke hurled out of the boy, shaking his body and causing his eyes to water before he finally went still, the occasional ragged cough racking his frame until he calmed fully. That lasted for about five seconds.

“Oh my god, where’s my mom? Where’s my sister? I remember–oh god.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. You’re okay,” Carlos cooed as he took the boy in his arms. Even though he was a stranger, Carlos had just saved the kid’s life, so Zach folded into his arms readily. “My husband is with them, and he probably dealt with it a lot more elegantly than I just did. Sorry about that, by the way,” he murmured, gesturing to the kid’s mouth still spitting salt.

“Whatever you did just now–was fucking brilliant. No notes. Thank you,” Zach said in a hoarse voice. 

“Come on, let’s go see your mom and sister. I bet TK has it all wrapped up by now.”

“He that good? You sound pretty confident.” Zach got up off the ground and brushed his pants of gravel. 

“Oh yeah. He’s good,” Carlos smiled to himself. 

When they arrived back at the back room of the general store, it was apparent that TK had, in fact, not dealt with things elegantly at all. The chair the mother had been tied to was in pieces, the mother thankfully still whole, but tossed to the far side of the room where she lay still, but breathing. The daughter was also unconscious, but breathing deeply in TK’s arms. TK himself had two cuts on his cheek, and there was blood steadily seeping into his shirt from a wound in his shoulder. 

Carlos’ eyes went directly to it, but TK shook his head. “I’m fine, just a scratch. She wouldn’t give up the knife,” he shrugged. He turned to Zach, “She’s okay though, the thing that was in her is gone.”

The father ran to them just then, nearly sliding across the floor and scattering the salt barrier they’d laid down earlier, putting his hands on his daughter’s face before crawling over to his wife. 

“You should get them all to the hospital, and soon,” Carlos said. “What was there is gone, but they’ve still got wounds.”

“Yeah, I had to clock her over the head a little so she’d stop coming at me. Couldn’t read the book. I should memorize it like Iris,” TK said with a roll of his eyes, supremely confident in a job well done. Carlos just smiled. “We’ll lock up the store, you go,” he said to the father as he gathered his wife in his arms. Zach took his sister’s body and the four of them were out the door and into a waiting pickup truck. 

“This is kind of embarrassing. I sang your praises, told Zach you’d deal with it elegantly.”

“How is this not elegant?” TK asked, gesturing to the carnage of the room–supplies pushed off shelves, the splintered remnants of the chair, what was probably–hopefully–cleaning chemicals spilled onto the floor. His smug smirk melted Carlos’ bones, though. 

“Come on, we gotta get that looked at, too,” he said, gesturing to TK’s shoulder. 

“This? Nah. Just a scratch, I promise.” He moved his arm up and down leisurely, not a hint of pain on his face. “See?”

“Mmm. Still gonna want to bandage it back at the motel. You’re just gonna have to bear my miserable sewing skills.” 

“The tragedy,” TK rolled his eyes but smiled up at Carlos. Carlos, used to how these things usually went, sauntered over and placed his hands on TK’s waist, pulling him closer. 

TK simply pecked him on the lips, smiling indulgently before muttering, “Let’s go. I’m beat.” Carlos watched him walk out of the room, tiptoeing over the scattered salt line before flicking his head that Carlos should follow. “You coming?”

Carlos stood for a confused moment before following him out, his eyes catching on something glinting in a corner of the room. He stopped and bent over, unearthing TK’s medallion from a pile of individually packaged toilet paper. He slipped it into his pocket and followed TK out to the car. 

Back at the motel, TK went straight to the shower and came back out in sweatpants and a t-shirt, a bandage clearly wrapped around his upper left shoulder under the sleeve. Carlos watched as he went about his nightly routine, moisturizing his face and combing his hair. He watched as TK folded up his jacket into a trash bag and put it into his luggage, presumably to be cleaned of the blood later when they had proper facilities. He then slid into bed next to Carlos, pecked him on the cheek, and bid him goodnight. 

Carlos never saw his wound. 

Over the next few days, they made their way towards Tennessee where they were supposed to meet up with the Blake sisters for some much needed time off to relax. TK was his usual chatty self in the car, and Carlos laughed at his stupid puns just like he always did. Carlos texted Iris as soon as they hit town, and she suggested they meet at her motel, and she and Michelle would be waiting. Perfect. 

When Carlos knocked on the door of room 318, he could hear the excited shuffling through the thick wood before it was flung open and he had an armful of Iris. He enveloped her in his arms and breathed in her comforting scent; he hadn’t seen his best friend in nearly a year as their jobs had taken them to different ends of the continent–and then to different continents–but coming back together was like breathing. 

“We’re all set,” she whispered in his ear and he tensed slightly before nodding imperceptibly and letting her drop back down to the carpet.

TK was hugging Michelle and chatting amiably, and Michelle was slowly ambling their conversation across the room toward the small dining table. “Come sit and have some coffee, TK. I got that stupid oat creamer you like, with the honey that doesn’t actually taste like honey,” Iris chirped as she and Carlos followed the other two across the room. 

Michelle poured a generous cup for all of them, and she and TK sat down at the table with theirs. Carlos watched her emit the smallest sigh of relief as TK took the seat across from her. As intended. 

“How have you guys been?” she asked him, tone cordial. 

“Chelle, come on. Let’s just get to it,” Iris interrupted, looking bewildered that Michelle would attempt small talk now that their mark had taken his seat. Carlos put a hand around her shoulders and squeezed. 

“She’s right. I want this over with,” he said. 

TK darted his eyes in between all of them, looking increasingly confused. “Get what over with?” His voice was small. Innocent. 

Michelle sighed and got up from her chair, coming to stand next to her sister. “Fine. But make it fast. I don’t want to give him a chance to–”

“What’s going on?” TK asked, his gaze still flitting between everyone else in the room. “Carlos?” The bewilderment in his expression couldn’t be faked. 

Except it was.

“You’re not my husband,” Carlos said flatly, staring into eyes he’d dreamt about for months before he’d even gotten up the nerve to ask TK on a proper date. 

“Carlos?” TK’s voice was incredulous. “What are you saying?” Carlos thought to himself that he was playing it rather well. However, there was a simple enough test to prove Carlos was right.

“If you’re really my husband, the love of my life, then come over here and kiss me.”

Carlos had seen it once or twice over the last few days: he’d go in for a kiss and TK’s face would screw up just slightly, only for a split second, before he’d allow the affection. It turned Carlos’ stomach every time, especially after he’d made his ultimate conclusion.

TK–not TK–being none the wiser, seemed to steel himself before taking a step toward Carlos. 

Except he was stopped by an invisible force, unable to walk even a foot away from the table. His face was confused for half a second, holding onto the act, before it dropped and a truly enraged scowl took over his beautiful features.

He turned to Iris and Michelle. “You fucking cunts,” he spat, looking up to the ceiling where the Blake sisters had painted a demon trap in black chalk. 

“Shut up,” Carlos spat right back. “You’ve got one chance here before I start in on the reading and the holy water. Get out of my husband and go back where you came from.”

The demon just laughed. Hearing the evil edge to his own husband’s voice turned his stomach. “You know what? I don’t think I will.” He sauntered back and plopped down into one of the chairs again, leaning back with his legs stretched out in front of him like he didn’t have a care in the world, like Carlos wasn’t about to unleash holy fire on him for daring to defile his husband. When he looked back up, his eyes were fully black, and Carlos had to fight the nausea that instantly threatened to take him. It was abhorrent, seeing TK’s gorgeous green eyes give way to hell’s dark pits. 

“Fine, have it your way,” Carlos said with disgust, walking over to where he’d dropped his duffle by the door. He grabbed the old, beaten leather book and a plastic water bottle, taking a moment to level out his breathing. TK was still in there, and no matter how much Carlos wanted to wreak havoc on the hellspawn for daring to possess him, he couldn’t hurt TK in any physical way. The holy water would have to do, along with the salt Michelle was now brandishing in her left hand. 

“Just,” the demon started, a sinister look of curiosity on his face, “for shits and giggles…what gave it away? I thought I was doing pretty well there. Especially with the stupid puns, my god this guy has so many stupid puns saved up in here.” He tapped his temple. “Between the screaming and the pleading it was hard to get to some of them, but I did it. You even laughed. It was cute.” 

“I’m not going to indulge you no matter how much you want me to. You’re going back to hell, so sit tight and shut up, asshole.”

“Was it because I wouldn’t kiss you? Because I gotta say, I think I did pretty well playing at being a f–”

Screams erupted from the demon’s throat as his skin started smoking and burning, the uncapped bottle of holy water clutched in Carlos’ hand. The demon tried to rush at him, rage on his face and in his black eyes, but he was brought up short by the invisible brick wall of the trap. He looked like he was fighting against it with everything he had, to no avail. 

“I said, sit tight and shut up,” Carlos growled. He set down the bottle and opened his book, flipping to the right page. “Don’t worry TK,” he whispered under his breath. “I’m gonna get you back. Don’t worry, baby.” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and started chanting.

It was hard to watch TK’s body writhe and scream and cover his ears in agony, but Carlos kept on. Occasionally he’d have to stop for a breath, and the demon would taunt him some more, but he did his best not to listen to it. He got through two-thirds of the ritual before he paused just long enough for the demon to spit: “He hates you, you know. Can’t stand you. You’re too controlling and you nag every damn day about the way he washes clothes and the way he stocks the weapons. The sex has just been good enough that he’s stuck around. He wishes he could leave you. He’s tried to, sometimes, just trying to pack up in the middle of the night, but you always wake up when he moves. Throw your arm over him and cage him in. He hates it.”

Carlos stopped cold for a solid thirty seconds. He was shocked enough that he forgot himself until Iris punched his arm, hard. “Hey, don’t listen. He’s just trying to get you to stop, TK doesn’t think those things at all, and you know it. Don’t be stupid, Carlos.”

“Really? I’m the one in his head. Continuous line to all his thoughts. Who you gonna trust?” the demon snarls with a smile. In that moment, it had never been harder to remind himself that it was TK’s face, TK’s voice saying these things, but it was not TK. 

Carlos shook himself, glared at the demon who was now cackling with glee despite the burns on his arms and face, and deliberately continued his chant. 

“Okay! Okay, fine! Damnit, you son of a bitch! You motherfucker! Stop! Stop! Please, it hurts!”

“Good,” Michelle snapped. 

“It hurts him, too, you know. He’s screaming for mercy in here,” the demon said to Carlos, trying for a smile and failing through his pain. 

“He can take it. I’ve seen TK take two stabs to the back and keep going. You don’t scare him and you don’t scare me.” Two passages left and this demon would be gone. Carlos raised his book again.

The screams and cries grew louder, louder, until they were cut off completely. TK’s body seized up, his fingers going crooked and mangled, as black smoke poured from him and rippled to the floor, disappearing out of sight. They all held their breath for the smallest sliver of a moment before Carlos rushed forward to catch TK before he fell to the floor like a ragdoll. 

He was unconscious, so Carlos started rubbing his sternum and calling out to him. “TK, come on, baby, come back to me. I know you’re in there, you have to be, please come back.” As Carlos continued trying to revive his husband, Michelle rushed over to her duffle for medical supplies in case they’d injured TK somehow during the exorcism. Iris stood by Carlos for moral support. 

“He’ll be okay, just give him a minute,” she said softly, rubbing her hand through Carlos’ curls. 

Just when Carlos was starting to panic, TK’s eyes fluttered open slowly. Carlos felt like his own strings had been cut as he collapsed down on top of his husband in relief. The only thing that pulled his attention away from holding TK tight and never letting go was the small, pained gasp. He sat back up and looked TK over frantically, trying to decipher where he was injured. He didn’t think they did anything damaging to an actual human, but... “Baby? What’s wrong? Where are you hurt?”

TK was barely conscious, now that the demon animating his body was gone. This wasn’t normal, once a demon was exorcised, the person went right back to normal. Usually. 

“A-arm,” came TK’s strained, quiet reply. He tilted his chin to indicate his left arm, which was lying limply at his side. 

Carlos rushed to rip his jacket off, trying not to cause further pain but finding it difficult to go slowly. When he could see the shoulder, he nearly choked. The sleeve of the shirt was distorted by the makeshift bandage underneath it, but the material was discolored with old blood and something else Carlos didn’t want to contemplate. 

“Michelle!” he cried as she came rushing over. “Oh god, he got this days ago. He said it was a scratch, he…” Carlos knew now that it was the demon talking. The demon himself didn’t feel any pain from the host's body besides holy water and salt, but TK had been trapped in his own mind with a hellspawn and this pain for days. Carlos felt sick. 

Michelle was right next to him, cutting away the ragged strips of old t-shirt the demon had covered up the wound with. It’s no wonder he hadn’t ever come to bed shirtless. “Looks like he just covered it enough to hide the bleeding, he didn’t clean it at all” Michelle observed. The wound itself was ugly. Festering, swollen, and leaking as Michelle prodded at it. “It’s definitely infected.”

“Come on, we gotta get him to a hospital!” Carlos begged her.

“Yes, we do, but hang on. I’ve got some antibiotics in my bag, I’ll give him a dose to hold him over before we go.” She worked quickly and efficiently, though not quickly enough for Carlos. He kept his eyes on TK’s face as Michelle cleaned the wound with the items Iris brought her on command, the sisters working like a well-oiled machine. TK was in and out of consciousness, wincing in pain and clamping his mouth shut when it got too intense before passing out again. 

It felt like ages but Michelle finally finished up and Carlos carried him out to the car and held him all the way to the emergency room doors. As they placed him on a stretcher, about to wheel him away, his hand reached for Carlos one more time. Carlos grabbed his hand, placing kisses on his knuckles, stroking his hair softly. “I’m here baby, I’ll be with you again soon, I promise.”

TK’s eyes fluttered but he was clearly working hard to stay conscious. He looked up into Carlos’ eyes, his expression pleading. His voice was cracked and withered, barely able to make a sound. “Don’t hate you, don’t hate you,” he repeated, shaking his head minutely and still looking at Carlos with a plea in his bright green eyes. Carlos squeezed his hand as tightly as he dared, and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“I know that, I know. I promise I know that. I know you love me. Even if I nag you about the clothes,” he said, smiling and trying to lighten the mood. 

“Love you,” TK sighed before being whisked away by the nurses.

“He’ll be fine, Carlos,” Michelle said, putting an arm around his shoulder. “It’s infected but they’ll fix it. He’ll be good as new, I promise.”

Carlos could only nod as the adrenaline finally hit him and he sagged into a chair, flanked by both sisters as they sat vigil until they could see TK again. 

He was still furiously twirling his wedding ring around his finger hours later when a doctor came out to tell them TK would make a full recovery. The sigh of relief that left him settled his bones in a way he hadn’t felt in over a week, and he was suddenly exhausted beyond measure. 

“Come on,” Iris prodded, tugging on his wrist as she rose from her chair. “Lets go ream him for getting himself possessed.” Even though Carlos knew she was at least half-joking, he couldn’t help himself from wanting to yell a little at TK losing his medallion in the first place and causing all this mess. 

However, the moment he walked into TK’s hospital room, he was bombarded with a barely coherent TK spouting apologies and pleas at him anyway. God, Carlos and I’m so stupid, and I’m sorry, baby, can you forgive me? Before Carlos could get a word in edgewise, TK had worked himself up to near panic now that he was more conscious than he had been all day.

“Baby, baby, shh. I’m not mad.” TK’s eyebrows raised up into his hairline. “Okay, maybe a little mad, but not at you. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He pushed a hand through TK’s greasy hair, humming a little and thinking of when they could get out of here and share a shower back at the hotel. 

“The chain broke. I felt it break, but I was kind of busy, and then all of a sudden I was—” He choked up a little, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” 

“I know you didn’t. Not your fault, okay? We made it through, like we always do.” 

“Yeah,” TK said with a soft smile before his eyes went curious. “By the way, what did give it away? I know the demon asked and you didn’t answer, but…”

Carlos was silent for a moment, weighing whether or not he should tell him because the answer was…well. But ultimately he decided, fuck it. 

“I knew before we left the general store that day. Well, maybe I didn’t know, but I was suspicious. The rest of the night confirmed it.”

“What made you suspicious?”

“When the fight was over, you only pecked me on the lips and left the scene immediately. Even though the family had left, and we were alone, you wanted to leave straight away.” Carlos left it there, hoping TK would get it. His face said that he didn’t, like his husband wasn’t self aware enough to see the issue. 

Carlos sighed. “TK. When have you ever, in our entire acquaintance, dating, and marriage, not been extremely horny after a successful hunt? I usually have to pry you off of me until we’re somewhere decent.” He tried to ignore the disgusted groans from the sisters who were still in the room with them. “The fact that you didn’t try to jump me right there in the store room was pretty much a dead giveaway.”

TK blushed but didn’t deny it. “Mmm, yeah. Okay, I see your point,” he grinned. “You’re just so hot when you kill things,” he whined. 

Tagging some folks who showed interest as I was teasing, and some who tagged me in wip games over the years lol: @heartstringsduet @welcometololaland @altsunthinkable @basilsunrise @jesuisici33 @reyesstrand @louis-ii-reyes-strand @tailoredshirt @carlos-in-glasses @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe @strandnreyes @carlos-tk @herefortarlos

[alllgator-blood]

I have ten billion WIP sketches I need to finish, but for some reason I stayed up from 9 PM to 4 AM conceptualizing, making patterns, sewing, painting and applying makeup on this stupid fucking felt squid......the detailing needs to be cleaned up cause there's only one coat of paint so far, but he's pretty much done

my neighbors probably think I'm insane because I was running around the yard clenching this toy kallamar in a death grip and flying him around like an airplane/putting him in the barbecue/poking him with a stick. I want to tie him to a string and recreate the opening of napoleon dynamite >:) ALSO I MADE HIM SMOKE OUT OF A STUPID CRYSTAL PIPE BUT PLEASE DON'T ACTUALLY USE THOSE, THEY ARE SUPER TOXIC LMAO MINE IS FOR DECORATION

I don't have any process pics because I had tunnel vision autism style and forgot the rest of the universe existed while I was working on him. BUT if you're curious I'll ramble below the cut

Okay I am not a seamstress by any means. I've sewn my entire life but very, very infrequently. I've done plushies, clothes, cosplays, fursuits, accessories, etc. but I only do one like once a year, so while I planned to make all 5 bishops, I'm not really sure I'll get them all done. The material cost was like 20 bucks tops so I'm not too upset if I don't finish them. I AT LEAST WANT TO GET SHAMURA OR HEKET DONE.

here is the concept sketch ft. heket's toes and shamura's fingers. I decided to do his pre-schism version so I could fit him with jewelry! I did him first because like I said I sew infrequently and don't know wtf I'm doing, everyone else seemed a lot more complicated.

So I basically just traced this drawing on a printer paper-sized canvas in SAI, and guesstimated how everything would look in a 3D space. His head is four pieces, one triangle identical to the one in the picture, two wide triangles that are sewn together in the back, and a circle for his chin. You can't really see it in any of the pics but he's literally like a black cylindrical stick with little tentacles sewn on where his mantle connects to his cloak. The leg tentacles are one piece of felt that look like tassels, where they're connected by a rectangle but branch off into individual pieces. He can't stand up very well, so his cape keeps him up (that's gonna be an issue for every other bishop too except heket cause she's gonna be ROUND). Mostly everything like the crown, cloak, head, etc. are cones so I just had to make a lot of wide triangles.

For the details, I just used acrylic paint that was watered down so he's not especially crunchy, and for the blush tone I used a makeup palette my mom bought me 10 years ago in hopes I'd get in touch with my "feminine side", but I grew up into a nonbinary butch lesbian so OOPS. Kallamar looks better with makeup than me anyway. I'm kinda sad I couldn't get his freckles as lopsided as I draw them but it probably looks better in plush form to have them even anyway....

I could just post the pattern so I don't have to explain this but 1. I am mentally ill about the thought of my kallamar being in someone else's house and 2. the original pattern had to be tweaked while I was working on him so the final pattern straight up doesn't exist, I winged it the whole time

OH and the jewelry is just scrap pieces I had laying around, I might repaint it all to be gold instead of silver + bronze. I used 20g aluminum wire for his armlet thing, jumper rings for his earrings + ring (+ a diamond dot from my mom's kits for the gem) and chain for the bracelet. I made him an amulet as well but it felt like overkill so I took it off. I'm probably gonna make him a plague doctor mask and medicine bag sometime because I think about nurse kallamar more than I probably should :') I've already sewn one as a prop for a toy raven before so it shouldn't be too hard

[phoebe-delia]

Mid-Story Lines

I was tagged by my love @greattemptation in this game! (check hers out here). Here's a list of mid-story lines from 10 of my fics, all published. (I know others have done WIPs but I'm just doing published stuff bc the only WIP I have rn is for an anon fest.) I'm tagging some greats here; sorry if yall have already done it and I didn't see: @getawayfox @beloved-child-of-the-house @academicdisasterfic @moonflower-rose

(Because I'm nothing if not self-indulgent, I included a little commentary about each of the fics below. Also, to absolutely no one's shock, I'm starting with my favorite child, TIMT. )

this is me trying

“Why?” Malfoy said, his voice breathy but forceful. “Why me? Why aren’t you turning to Granger or Weasley or Longbottom or…literally anyone else?”

“I don’t know,” Harry nearly whispered. “I didn’t mean to go looking for you, the first day I went to the diner. I really was just stopping in for food. But then I saw you, working and trying and getting along with Muggles, and I just,” he swallowed around a lump in his throat. “I think that maybe if I talked to you I could see how you did it.”

“How I did what?”

Harry drew in a lungful of air and expelled it in a drawn-out breath. "Figured out the difference between who you were supposed to be, and who you really are.”

Just Take Me Home

Beep....Beep....Beep....Beep...

That damned smoke detector's out of batteries, was Harry's first semi-conscious thought. Then his next one made his eyes snap open. I don't have a smoke detector.

I Could Never Rescue You

I fell asleep, tossing and turning alone in bed, and now I wake to find you next to me. The sight is usually a comfort, but now it only fills me with irritation. You must have arrived home late without a word.

Again.

Speak Now

Knowing you’ll never see this, combined with the firewhiskey’s satisfying burn in my throat to lubricate my thoughts, I feel safe in admitting that you are glorious in a duel. You look so determined, so powerful, and yet so controlled and deliberate. Your eyes gleam and you exude strength and Merlin if it isn’t beautiful. The only benefit to being your one-time enemy was getting to see you like that, being one of the few people to experience the force that is Harry Potter.

Just Between Us

Draco shook his head. “How you’ve lasted through years of Ministry galas without humiliation is beyond me.”

“Easy. I don’t dance.”

“Why?”

Harry shrugged. “I never learned.”

Draco stepped forward. “I can teach you, if you want.”

Little Red

“So which poor sods are you assigning to the case?” Ron said with a smirk.

Kingsley pressed his lips together and said nothing, looking at the two of them with sympathy.    

Harry’s face fell. “You can’t be serious.”

I'm Beginning to See the Light (an Eight Drarry Nights Story)

Draco holds up a hand. “Potter. It’s fine. You’re right. Let’s go to the Muggle store.”

Harry blinks. Then tries, and fails, to suppress his smile. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear.”

Draco rolls his eyes. “I’m not saying it again.” He walks out of the room and calls over his shoulder, “But nice try!”

The Door

“Harry, darling, I’m with Father and he’s having trouble coming to terms with our relationship. Do you mind saying a quick ‘Hello’ to prove to him that I’m not trying to shock him into an early death just so I can take the piss?”

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

“It’s Harry.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t know it was that complicated—”

Potter laughed again. “The situation isn’t hairy, you dolt. Call me Harry.”

Call It What You Want

Potter let out a laugh. “Okay, well just put your food here on this turntable,” he pressed something that made the little door pop open, and Draco jumped slightly. “Then you just press the buttons to tell it how long you want it to cook, press the “start” button and then it’ll go until it’s finished.”

Draco nodded. “That makes sense.”

Potter’s eyes lit up. “It does?”

“Yes, I understand.” 

 “Great!”

“Just one question.”

“Go ahead.”

“What’s a button?”

Okay I included my commentary that no one asked for.

TIMT: My favorite child, as I said. appears on just about every list I make of my fics, if I can help it.

JTMH: Of all the things I've written, this is one of the ones that has made me laugh the most.

ICNRY: Maybe one of my favorite things I've written in a long time, despite being wildly different from my usual. Mind the tags!!!

Speak Now: Epistolary fics are the FUNNEST and I loved writing Draco here.

Just Between Us: Oh my godddd the stress of writing this fic. It paid off, I think (hope), but I put way too much pressure on myself.

Little Red: Again, very different from my norm. I'm proud of it for that reason, but I feel I could write it soooo much better now.

IBTSTL: This was my first real WIP that I updated regularly, and it was so much fun to have regular commenters and get people's feedback in real time!

The Door: One of my first fics. Not my typical fic but it was a great way to explore Draco, especially as a new writer.

MAATHP: The first fic to stress me out lol. For my Swifties, this came out more than a year before "The Great War," or else this would've absolutely been the fic for Midnights.

CIWYW: Another early idea. The "What's a button" part still makes me laugh.

[ikeukiss]

ENHYPEN HARD THOUGHTS — DRABBLE EVENT

Hi, loves! As I'm working on my wips, I thought it'd be a good time to start a new smut drabble event as I am bored and need some smut inspiration! The prompt list I've chosen is under the cut for you guys to choose from.

Please send me a # and the member of your choice.

Prompts will be crossed out as they are sent in.

DO NOT SEND MORE THAN ONE PROMPT AT A TIME (example: jungwon #45 not jungwon #45, #54, and #12) and I will try to get in your request as soon as possible so it isn't taken! If requests are done incorrectly, I will be only doing the first number or removing the request altogether at my discretion.

I WILL ONLY BE ACCEPTING PROMPTS FOR HYUNG LINE, SUNWOO, AND JUNGWON.

SMUT PROMPT LIST BELOW ⁀➴

1. “no underwear? did you plan this?” 2. “are you just going to watch?” 3. “but the cameras” - “they can’t see us from this angle, if you can stay still” 4. “you’re such a needy girl” 5. “you just keep doing what you’re doing” 6. “you’re fucking soaked” 7. “you make me so wet” 8. “can i ask you for something?” 9. “please don’t think i’m weird for this…” 10. “does that turn you on?” 11. “i need your fingers” 12. “say/do it like you mean it” 13. “scream my name while you cum” 14. “why don't you make it up to me?" 15. “touch yourself, i want to watch” 16. “on your knees” 17. “turn around” 18. “bend over” 19. “spread your legs” 20. “open wider” 21. “sit on my thigh/face/etc” 22. “lift your leg” 23. “i’m bored, let’s play” 24. “i can see you staring at my tits/thigh/ass” 25. “harder” 26. “it’s my turn now” 27. “i didn’t mean to call you that, i’m sorry” - “no! don’t apologize, i liked it…” 28. “spank me” 29. “choke me” 30. “bite me” 31. “you can practice on me” 32. “this is a one time thing” 33. “i thought you said it was a one time thing?” 34. “we can’t do this” 35. “i ordered us something” 36. “that looks too big” 37. “you bought a vibrator?” 38. “sit here” 39. “while standing?” 40. “give me your hand” 41. “i’m/it’s all over your chin” 42. “do you think about me when you touch yourself?” 43. “why are you being so shy? it’s not like i haven’t already seen all of you” 44. “you’re so spoiled” 45. “can we use a toy?” 46. “can i use a toy on you?” 47. “just like that” 48. “nobody can know about this, okay?” 49. “how are you so close already?” 50. “i can see how wet you are through your shorts” 51. “can you be quick?” 52. “please, i’ll finish fast” 53. “use your mouth” 54. “why do you get so shy when i use that word?” 55. “where do you want me to touch you?” - “down there…” - “you have to say the word” 56. “on the counter/table/etc?” 57. “have you seen the things the the fans write about you and *other celeb*?” 58. “pull my hair” 59. “open your mouth” 60. “you’re such a messy girl” 61. “take off your underwear” - “but, there’s other people here” - “they won’t see you, there’s an entire table here” 62. “open your eyes” 63. “look at me while you cum” 64. “do you want me to use my fingers/mouth?” 65. “do you want to join me?” 66. “how bad do you want it?” 67. “it’s too late for this” - “you don’t have to do anything, just stay laying down” 68. “can you stay quiet if i take this call?” 69. “we could get kicked out for this” 70. “don’t make me say it, you know what i want” 71. “you’re so annoying” - “would i still be annoying eating you out?” 72. “put your leg over my shoulder” 73. “there’s no one else here, be louder” 74. “i’m going to fuck you against the windows, i want everyone to see how good you are for me” 75. “stop being gentle” 76. “you can’t leave marks” 77. “we are not doing this standing, there’s a bed right there” 78. “do you like it when i spank you?” 79. “use my thigh” 80. “if you hate me so much, why are you letting me do this?”

[scottxlogan]

The down side to being a fanfic author/fan artist

Look, I know we've all heard it before but since fandom is slowly fading away to things like AI and people simply not leaving likes/comments it's getting to the point that it's turning away people behind fan works simply because there is no engagement anymore. Each one of us has our own process, so I can't speak for everyone, but with me when I create a fanfic for example, I get an idea, get excited about an idea, write out the idea/chapter and then go through an editing process that used to be a one time thing where I detail something and change things around, but often I find myself editing a few times to make the work the best it can be. This is a very time consuming process that often has me shying away from being super social when it comes to chatting because I'm trying to put together something that I'm not only excited about, but I'm also excited to share with others.

After all that work is done, I post it, then make sure to let everyone know it's there, taking the time to share it on Tumblr, discord, etc. and then I find myself filled with a sense of accomplishment and excitement hoping that people love the work as much as I do. I know it's silly but that moment of posting if filled with excitement/nervousness because you never know how something will land, but you're hoping it does well.

Then 24 hours pass and you see there are views, but minimal to no likes/kudos or comments and then you think "well maybe I posted it at the wrong time and it just didn't hit the right audience." Or maybe I should put out a regular schedule or that maybe I shouldn't post WIPs until they are complete since I know a lot of people WON'T READ a story until it's complete, which hey I get it. Books are like that. You get the whole experience and you don't want to be left hanging. I mean sure it makes sense but for me as a fanfic author (who isn't a paid professional author) sometimes in the past I'd do WIPs and it was the feedback that I received from readers that shaped and formed the story itself beyond my idea because it gave me even more food for thought to create. Now that kind of feedback simply isn't there. There's no reaction and it's quite frankly disheartening.

Case in point I had people BEG ME to write a sequel to a one shot I wrote recently and I told myself if I got 4 comments (just 4 which really isn't much) on the story I would do it. Fortunately, as luck would have it I got more than four comments and a bunch of people excited by the possibility of a story. So then I wrote it, posted the first couple chapters of a sequel and by chapter 2 there is one amazing reader (who is honestly the best and a reason why I continue to write in that particular fandom) who left an awesome comment/feedback but beyond that NOTHING. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING and like this is a story that I've already written 4 and 1/2 chapters on because people were so excited for it, yet when I post there's nothing. I get people are busy and life is busy but when it's getting over a lot of hits and people are seeing it, it makes me question what's going on here? Like are people just turned off by the idea of an unfinished WIP or just turned off by something longer than 1000 words? It's hard to sort it all out and a bit frustrating that no one is trying to make an effort to let writers (not just me) know how much they like the work.

TBH I just don't get it and for those who are lucky enough to get engagement I'm happy for you, but I don't for the life of me understand why no one wants to get involved with fandom anymore. If I make a post on Tumblr about a story even though I have THOUSANDS of followers on this blog alone it gets like 4-10 notes most of the time (if I'm lucky) and it's usually my closest friends just trying to show support for my efforts. This also applies to if I make an art piece, which by the way takes just as much time to create if not more, and it's starting to really depress me in general. I see so many fan arts out there and I would NEVER claim to be one of the best as there are so many beautiful artists, but I know my art isn't complete trash either. Sure, I'm a WIP myself as an artist, but when I reblog other people's art it gets them a LOT of notes and reblogs because, well, as I mentioned before I have THOUSANDS of followers who do look at art and do see what I post, so I'm not quite clear on why anything I post never lands with the audience when it's the same subject. I mean honestly it can't be that bad people. My art is just as valid as anyone else's (as is my fanfic for that matter) and the fact that I'm not getting any engagement is so disheartening. It doesn't matter what fandom I'm doing art or fanfic for I'm getting little to no engagement and I simply don't get it.

Again I'm not trying to whine, but I just sit back and see people praising other authors/artists and how great their works are and both of mine slip under the radar after hours of effort. I even got to the point that I told my sister today that I've set a number for myself in terms of feedback I receive this month and if I don't find myself getting that quota (which tbh is so ridiculously low that given all my fanfics I have written it shouldn't be an issue) that I'm going to quit writing and doing fandom art because it's clear no one really cares whether it's out there or not. if they did, I feel as if they'd let me know it and no one is, so at this point I feel like I'm very close to being done beyond the obligations I still have because while sure I do it for myself, I also did it for the community and if the community isn't interested in what I have to contribute and makes me feel like my contributions are invalid and unimportant, then what's the point? I mean really it's just sad in general and I'm well aware no one is going to probably read all of this either but it's just where I'm at.

[thekyuusims]

ASOIAF Save File: The Riverlands Roadmap and predicted questions

*NOTE: this is not a image of my world this is a template map from this website.

The Riverlands will have:

-7 Castles , Riverrun, Harrenhal, Stone hedge, Raventree hall and two castle you will decide with polls

-6 Peasant homes

-the ruins of old stones(park)

-Jonquil's pool(swimming pool)

-2 tavern's including cross roads Inn

-1 Military Training ground(Gym)

-1 market(small business)

-2 Inns

-1 brothel(maybe haven't fully decided if I will add brothels yet)

A few Predicated questions

Q:When will this be released/finished ?

A: I don't have a set date of finish but save files take a long time to make , especially when using blowtorch as I am manually decorating the world. However I'm planning on releasing with each finished world so there will be the first release when the Riverlands are finished , so on so forth.

Q:Will this use CC ?

A: yes unfortunately it is very hard to make this save file without cc, however Going to try and limit cc and items for performance issues

Q:what packs will I need?

A: Get Together,Life & Death,Horse Ranch,Life & Death,Get Famous,Cottage Living,High School Years,Outdoor Retreat or Realm of Magic. as a minimum to get the worlds to show up but probably castle estate and others for decor

Q:how does summiting builds works ?

A: I'll mostly need smaller builds such as houses ,farms ,Inns ,taverns , but larger castles and landmark builds are welcome too! Ill pick the ones that work best within the world , If I uses your build you will be credited in the in game build description and my release posts as a builder.

Q:is there rules or a guide to building?

A: if you want to use cc you'll have to download my accepted cc file which has all the cc I'm going to use in the save file, when I'm accepting builds ill release information on the plot sizes and theme I want each region to have a cohesive theme, feel free to get creative tho!

Q:How far along are you with the save file

A:30% done with the Riverlands

overall save file probably 10% just of the castles I've already built

Q:what time period of ASOIAF will this save file be based off?

A:Im going to try and make it as timeless as possible , to fit any time period

Q:What sims will you included ?

A:new services sims, Smallfolk/townine sims, as I want this to be timeless I wont be include noble house members to keep the save as condensed as possible

Q:will this effect your cc releases?

A:No , most of my cc releases are pre-planned by weeks , before I announced this project I finished quite a few cc wips in preparation so I focus on this project a little more.

Q:What do you mean by Community driven?

A: having you guys do things like polls to decide what you most want to see in the save file also I'm always excepting feedback and requests !

[griefabyss69]

Vulture

Have this fic I started working on months ago, it's still unfinished but it's 10 chapters already! If you've been playing along with my WIP games, you'll recognize this by its working title: Quiet House. I'm ready to start sharing it, it might have slow updates depending on how my life is in the next few months, but the story isn't too complicated to follow along with!

Steddie - Rated: E - CW: Absent/bad parenting

Tags: Tags will be added as story progesses, Post-Vecna (Stranger Things), Slow Burn, Getting Together, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Everybody Lives

[ AO3 ]

Chapters 1 & 2 are posted!

Summary

Another ending, another aftermath—and then, somehow, another ending, aftermath pending.

Steve's exhausted, but his friends don't mind. In fact, there's someone who holds him up with steady shoulders and cuts through his malaise. He just has to have self control so he doesn't kiss him and scare him away. That gets harder when Eddie gives him something special—something Steve becomes a little bit obsessed with.

Excerpt

The exhaustion feels like an insurmountable curse, but... it'll go away. Eventually.

A pair of his favorite jeans can't get rid of bruises and scrapes and the ringing in his ears, but he can put them on and pretend the flesh inside of them hasn't been desecrated like the graffitied walls of an abandoned building. Then it's a soft t-shirt, not his favorite and not something with a tidy collar, but his skin is raw in some places and he's not ready to deal with the claustrophobia of bandages unless he absolutely has to. Besides, most of it's just more of the same old on his back, a place that's hard to get at and a place that's already fucked up with scars.

He has to laugh, thinking about what his mom would say about them.

___

The phone call is short, quick like getting stabbed by a million demo-teeth or perhaps a needle full of weird drugs.

There are no pretty lights on the ceiling though, except for the way the tears in his eyes make everything look gauzy and smeared.

It's not an end—the Harringtons are too smart for that—but Steve feels the same kind of peaceful acceptance as he did one of the times he thought he was bleeding out on the ground somewhere. The impossible ultimatum sits heavy in his gut like a stone, and he makes a snap decision all at once.

[extant-exhaustion]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "extant-exhaustion "?

Well, first of all, thank you so much for your patience! I know it took me seven weeks to reply to this Ask! I agonized over my list (also, the holidays happened, which kept me busy). But I finally narrowed it down, so here we go, in no particular order:

My Top 10 Favorite Fanfics

In Another Life by LittleLuxray Haikyuu!! | T+ | 23k | Bokuto/Akaashi | angst, sickfic | It's famous for a reason. Truly one of the best pieces of writing I've ever read, including published works—I've rarely cried so hard or been moved so much.

died in my dreams by MTrash Haikyuu!! | T+ | 10k | Ushijima/Tendou | futuristic/cyberpunk AU, opposites attract, reluctant work partners to friends to lovers | fantastic characterization, really cool conceptually, a story about trauma and healing and finding your person

the weight of water by wordstruck/@redluxite Haikyuu!! | M | 6k | Iwaizumi/Oikawa | angst | Painful, soul-crushing heartbreak, but so, so beautiful. As someone who's experienced loss and grief, this story is visceral and the accompanying art haunts me.

Come and get lost with us by boxofwonder Haikyuu!! | M | 150k | Hinata/Kageyama, Daichi/Sugawara | action/adventure, Medieval AU(?) | unlike anything I've ever read before or since; a really masterful integration of an enormous cast and a plot that unravels with absolutely zero fluff or filler

shimmer in your shine by zenelly/@zenellyraen Hunter x Hunter | T+ | 91k | Leorio/Kurapika, Killua/Gon | American roadtrip AU | This story made me cry over a fist fight between Leorio and Illumi in the parking lot of a Red Lobster in Arkansas.

The Myth of Mankind by MistressEast/@mistresseast Promare | T+ | 63k | Galo/Lio | action/adventure, romance | masterful worldbuilding, kickass fight scenes, intrigue galore, falling in love while preventing mass murder? yes, please

A Second Chance To Say by KazimaKuwabara/@kazimakuwabara Yu Yu Hakusho | M | 92k | Yusuke/Kuwabara, Youko Kurama/Kuronue | action/adventure, hurt/comfort | ft. Kuronue's eternal sass and unwavering friendship, the slow burn of reincarnated already-in-love KuwaMeshi (because Kuwabara doesn't remember it), somewhat menacing levels of intrigue, and Hiei finally winning MVP of emotions on Team Urameshi

Don't Blink or You'll Miss It (Lift Up Your Head) by umisabaku/@umisabaku Kuroko no Basuke | M | 81k | Kagami/Kuroko, Kasamatsu/Kise, Midorima/Takao, Himuro/Murasakibara, Aomine/Momoi | super powers | This story and its accompanying series are so cool and so unique. The characterization is amazing and the worldbuilding is stellar.

neither fish, flesh, nor foam by twoif interactive on Twine Kuroko no Basuke | Kagami/Kuroko | angst, Little Mermaid–esque, interactive storytelling | incredible, but also devastating; a story about how sometimes our doubts can destroy not only ourselves but the good things we build; one of the coolest things I've ever interacted with as a story, a true tour de force

Transient Shadow, True Light by seafoamist/@seafoamist Kuroko no Basuke | M | 322k, WIP | Kagami/Kuroko | angst, hurt/comfort, time travel, historical (Edo Period) | If you talk to me about this story, I will go absolutely feral, because it is my current obsession and the only WIP that is on this list. I'm straight-up insane about its quality and depth. I can't even put this story into words. It knocks the wind out of me.

And lastly, my URL doesn't actually have a story behind it! It's basically just my life, haha. “Extant” is an adjective meaning “ongoing/still in existence” and “exhaustion” is pretty obvious. Essentially, I like alliteration and thought it sounded better than "tired 100% of the time."

[thewinter-eden]

almost summer | kim seungmin

Pairings: Seungmin x OC, Jeongin x OC

Summary:

SPECIAL AGENT AU Maven Spanaway and Kim Seungmin have been broken up for a year.

Now, in a national state of emergency, they are thrown together on assignment to investigate an enemy outpost. Maven still despises her new partner/ex-fiance, and Seungmin is just as cocky as ever. Enjoy the angsty rollercoaster as they reconnect and learn to work together again.

cross posted on AO3 under the_winter_eden and Wattpad under alone-at-last.

Genre: sci-fi, horror, thriller

Rating: mature, explicit

Status: incomplete (currently 20 chapters)

Content warnings: explicit descriptions of violence/torture, scientific experimentation, raw post-breakup emotions, hurt/comfort, heavy angst, lots of sadness, death, murder, Seungmin being an ass, starvation, fear, insecurities, hopelessness.

masterlist

00. PROLOGUE 01. IT'S NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN 02. YOU'RE STILL ANGRY 03. YOU DON'T LIKE WORKING WITH ME 04. I'M SORRY I LIED 05. THIS WILL GET BETTER 06. WHY I LEFT 07. AS SMART AS EVER 08. IT WAS RIGHT 09. YOU WERE STRONG 10. I ENJOY WORKING WITH YOU 11. I CAN'T WORK OUT TO THAT 12. CUP OF PEACE 13. I NEED YOU TO TRUST ME 14. SPENDING YOUR TIME WITH THEM 15. YOU'RE DATING AGAIN (tuesday 01/28) 16. WE'RE WORKING TOGETHER (thursday 01/30)

NOTES BELOW

a / n : 

Prologue provides foundation for military/special agent setting as well as the MC's experience with the initial breakup. Chapter one (also posted today) will jump into the meat of the story so don't let this bog you down. Hope you guys enjoy! 

If you have any questions about world building, PLEASE ASK. Like my Han Jisung (psycho) fic, this story is a modified piece of exposition for one of my original WIPs. 

I can't guarantee that I've explained the setting well enough in this to just be jumped into without reading the original novel that it's part of, but I want it to be, so let me know if you find inconsistencies or confusion. 

I'm American, as is the setting for the original story, so all of the locations and military groups are modeled off of American military and special forces. Don't let it jar the narrative, lol.

This story is mostly written already. It will be updated twice a week, probably Tuesdays and Thursdays to get me to finish this story.  

If anybody is sensitive about a recent senseless breakup, maybe skip this one.

lazy writer note : 

A few BTS names are thrown in here (you already know this about me if you've read psycho) to alleviate the burden of too many unfamiliar characters. They're not significant to the story, so just point and laugh and move on, haha.

tag list : (comment a request to be added or removed)

@kayleefriedchicken @eastjonowhere @velvetmoonlght

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Happy wipw! Could I request more of Demon!Neil or Arson!Neil, whichever gets fewer requests or whichever you're enjoying more? (Really digging the Demon!Neil worldbuilding :)

WIP Wednesday (2/19) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 281)

Jeremy's grand idea turned out to be sending 10 a photo of the four of them together.

Since Andrew is a foot shorter than the rest of them, it's difficult to position them all for a selfie. They try crouching behind him, but it doesn't make for a great photo. They just didn't fit that way. Even when Jeremy whipped out a selfie stick— ridiculously useless invention— and attached it to Andrew's phone, it was impossible to get a decent picture. The angles are all wrong. Andrew thinks perhaps short people should not befriend tall ones.

This is proved tenfold when Kevin finally takes it upon himself to hook Andrew under the arms and lift him off the ground. Andrew thrashes and kicks Kevin in the legs.

"Kevin Day, if you don't put me down within three seconds—"

"Just take the photo," Kevin tells him flatly. Andrew glares at him in the screen of his phone, but surprisingly this is working better than literally everything else they'd tried. Jeremy and Jean are both very close to laughter, Andrew can tell. But as he moves his thumb to take the photo, they all pull on their press-smiles. Jean's is stilted as always, but Kevin's and Jeremy's are perfectly dazzling. Andrew allows a slight curve to his own mouth.

After he takes the picture, Kevin finally sets him back on his feet.

"If you ever do that again, I will kill you." Andrew says, stabbing a finger in Kevin's face. Kevin merely shrugs.

"Okay. I have no reason to do it again anyway. Send that to your faceless, nameless man already."

Andrew wanders off into the living room to send the picture in peace. He chooses the nicest looking one— the one where you can't tell he's being held up like Simba's understudy— presses send, then taps out a small message to go with it.

Andrew I have been kidnapped by the Jaguars. Send help.

Andrew doesn't realize he's been followed until it's too late. There's a snicker over his shoulder and he whips his head around to see Jeremy and Jean posted at either of his sides. (Andrew maintains that tall people should not be allowed to befriend short people.) He glares at them.

"What?"

"His name is flame emoji." Jeremy says with a hundred-watt smile. "Does that mean he's hot?"

"Yes." Andrew says quickly. Totally. It means 10 is sexy, totally not that he's a literal arsonist.

"Isn't that so cute?" Jeremy asks Jean. Andrew wants to tell him to fuck off but before he has a chance, the French bastard grabs the phone right out of his hands. Andrew blinks, looking down at his now-empty hands, both shocked and impressed by Jean's daring death wish. Andrew snaps his fingers and holds his phone out in demand, but goes ignored.

"You messaged this man for the first time last night," Jean says, evidently having scrolled through their very short new conversation.

"Moreau, I will break your leg." Andrew says, reaching for his phone. Jean looks down his nose at Andrew before handing it over. "For your information, he got a new phone."

"What does 10 mean?" Jean asks at the same time Jeremy asks, "Did his other phone break?"

Andrew decides to answer the safer question. "His old one was an ancient slider phone. He upgraded so we—" Andrew cuts off.

"So you what?" Kevin asks, suddenly behind him.

"So we could do video calls."

"Oh my god! He got a new phone specifically for you," Jeremy shrieks directly into Andrew's eardrum. He squeals and Andrew doesn't think he was that excited when 10 revealed his new phone last night. Jean shakes his head at Jeremy's hysteria, but Kevin gives Andrew a look.

"Tell me who he is."

"No." Andrew counters.

"Andrew."

"Kevin. You seem to be under the impression that I am part of whatever this is. But I'm not. It's been made perfectly clear over the years that I am not. You're not my partner or my boyfriend or my warden. I am allowed to pursue men you don't know and you have to deal with it." Andrew says, at last shutting him up.

Kevin opens his mouth a couple of times but can't come up with anything apparently. After a moment, he storms off back into the other room with Jean on his heels.