#hehehehehehehe I WRITE

[peppermint-whiskers]

Introducing:

An au by myself and @emositecc (all artwork here done by her, btw! 💖💖)

Premise: Because snake forms aren't common in Heaven, Pentious has to change forms per Sera’s orders in order to not make waves. At the same time, she places a spell on him that prevents him from speaking about who he was before and his time in Hell. Using the nickname Pen, he's sent down to Hell every once in a while to help them with redemption, acting as the representative. While there, he has a lot of trouble reconnecting because of the spell and because of the weird deja vu the others get whenever he's around. It also doesn't help that they're still mourning Pentious—he can't tell them that he's okay and that redemption works.

He does succeed in reconnecting with them, but only as “Pen.”

It'll be done in 3 acts:

Act 1: Reconnection

Sir Pentious, under the alias Pen, is sent to Hell every once in a while to help them with redemption. There, he struggles to reconnect with his friends, who are still mourning his supposed "death."

Act 2: Mind Wipe

After a disasterous event caused by Alastor, Pentious begs Sera to wipe his memories of his life before as it's the only way he can think of to ease the pain. This works for only a while, and the confusion between his two forms makes him restless. Emily smuggles him back to Hell to help him regain his memories.

Act 3: Consequences

After resolving the mind wipe, Sera realizes the error of her actions and tries in earnest to help Charlie's hotel with redemption. However, the reveal of the mind wipe and redemption causes waves in both Heaven and Hell.

Some artwork and snippets (written by me) under the cut!

No spoilers yet, obviously uwu

Snippet 1:

“The envoy is supposed to come today!” Charlie exclaimed, positively bouncing around the hotel lobby. “I'm sooooo excited! What do you think they'll be like??”

“Sexy,” Angel immediately said with his usual teasing tone.

“Respectful,” Vaggie sighed. After failed extermination, they've had countless meetings with Heaven, and the head seraphim has been . . . less than helpful. As much as she hated to admit it, dealing with Emily was much preferred to dealing with Sera.

“I just hope you know what you're doing,” Husk chimed in. “Inviting an angel to stay longterm here could be dangerous.”

“It’ll be fine,” Charlie assured them. “We'll keep them safe, and they'll help us with redemption! It's a win-win!”

A circular portal opened up just outside the hotel. Squealing with joy, Charlie rushed outside to meet their newest friend and staff member. Out stepped a tall gentleman with dark skin, white hair, and a pale blue suit. His eyes seemed to look over the hotel with nostalgia—Charlie would bet anything that in life, he was a hotel manager himself. That would be just perfect! She could use a little more help than Alastor deigned to provide.

Snippet 2

Their new guest wasn't doing so well. Somehow, through fake coughs and weak insistence, Pen managed to convince Charlie that he didn't need to come out of his room, thank you very much. Charlie wasn't dumb, of course, and her sympathetic nature was just one of the many reasons Vaggie loved her. Instead of pressing the issue, she let Pen stay in his room for the day and let him continue claiming he was sick.

He may have convinced the others, but Charlie and Vaggie both knew better. Angels couldn't get sick, but this was one hell of a bout of homesickness.

Charlie herself brought meals up to his room and coaxed him to eat, and Vaggie went when she was busy, but he never once opened the door. After two days of this, Vaggie finally took it upon herself to see him herself and get to the bottom of this. Breakfast in hand, she headed up the stairs and prepared herself for a battle of wills of which she was sure she would win.

[kuroosweakness]

black heels | kuroo tetsurou

after hearing his knock, you open the door. your heart pounds at the sight of him, as if it wasn’t pounding enough at just the mere thought of him. 

“hi,” he says, just above a whisper. 

you watch as tetsu’s lips slightly part and his hands, occupied with a small bouquet of red roses, drop just barely noticeable. 

taking a deep breath, you bring yourself to meet his eyes, heart fluttering as you take in the sight of him in a white button-up and black slacks that fit him oh-so-well. his mouth moves but no sound comes out. 

“you look uh-” he utters, face flushed as he brings one arm up to rub the back of his neck. his eyes moves erratically around your body as if he’s in a rush to see all of you. “really good. no, really pretty..?”

you can’t help but grin at his unprecedented nervousness. “you don’t really sound sure,” you chip back. 

“oh i’m sure,” he insists. “i- uh, got you some flowers.” he slowly extends his arm, waiting for you to accept them. 

you reach out, and the plastic crinkles as you carefully grasp the rose stems. 

“thank you,” you whisper, smiling into the flowers. it’s only been a few seconds since you’ve seen him and your cheeks already ache from all the smiling. 

“mm” he hums. “you also look taller” 

“oh,” you look down at your feet and lift your right foot to show him your new black heels. “i’m wearing heels” 

he has so much thoughts about your heels whirling in his head, he can’t possibly settle on just one reply, so he simply replies, “they’re cute.” 

“it’s easier for you to reach me now too,” you beam. 

“mm” he hums, his lips slowly turn into a smirk as he quips back, “but they still make you so much shorter than me” 

not having a decent comeback to his comment, you just glare at him and turn around to find a vase for your roses. seeing your reaction, he laughs and follows you inside, both of your hearts warmer than when you first saw each other. 

~~~

you were fine for the first two hours, but now, getting out of his car and back to your apartment is going to be a lot more painful on your feet than you hoped. your heels fit you well, but you can only walk for so much in heels for one day. 

after getting out of his car, you shut the door and mentally check to make sure you have your clutch, phone, and jacket. remembering that tetsu walks much faster than you, you quickly begin to walk back into your apartment building before he can catch your scrunched up face thanks to your aching feet. 

before you left your apartment, he had inquired about your comfort and asked if you were sure you didn’t want to bring sneakers. not wanting him to think you couldn’t handle being in heels, you insisted that you were completely fine. 

now, he trails behind your slightly limping figure with an amused expression on his face. 

“...you sure you’re okay in those?” he asks worriedly, and you don’t have to turn around to catch the slightly amused smile on his face.

“‘m fine”  just a couple more steps and stairs to go, you think to yourself. 

tetsu quickly catches up to you and hovers his arm over you, as if to lend you support but not sure if you want it. “i could ... give you a piggyback ride,” he offers. 

you look up at him with faux annoyance. “dummy, my dress will ride up” 

“ah, right...” he utters. he looks around your apartment complex and at the shadows of you two caused by the lamp posts beside the sidewalk. “if you weren’t in pain, i would have said i told you so much earlier”

you open your mouth to reply but he quickly adds, “why don’t i carry you like ...y’know like how the groom carries the bride in weddings?” 

you stop, turn around and watch as he blinks at you, waiting for a response. “okay,” you smile. 

and that’s how you ended the night being carried bridal style by your boyfriend who made you swore you’d let him bring you sneakers to change into the next time you’re out in heels. 

~~~

later that night:

“i don’t mind carrying you, but i’d rather carry you under circumstances where your feet aren’t in pain” 

“mm...do you like me in heels?”

“i do, it’s fun to see you indulge in being a few inches taller than you normally are”

“...you like being taller than me way too much” 

“it’s not a crime,” he shrugs

“...do you ever wish you were taller?” 

“i think all volleyball players have wished that they were taller. i don’t think there’s a ‘tall enough’ in volleyball. but i like my height, probably because i’m used to it. why, am i not tall enough for you?” 

“more like too tall for me..”

“that a problem?”

“you know it’s not” 

“...do you like me being taller than you?”

“i do” 

“hmm i can tell” 

“what is that supposed to mean?” 

“...”

“tetsu, what was that supposed to mean, hm?” 

“just that i’ve caught the way your tone of voice sounds like bragging when you told your family how tall i am” 

“...have you been eavesdropping??”

“kinda hard not to when you were calling right in front of me” 

“...”

“why so quiet, baby?”

“m just tired” 

“from walking in heels all night?” again, you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “for the record, i like you in heels. a subject to make fun of you for and an excuse to carry you?? what could be better?”

“good night” 

“i love you too, babe” 

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

*swings legs* some SAGAU thoughts for when you're sick

it's been raining for days.

no one's sure what caused the sudden flood- normally Liyue's storms were quick and short, unless an Adeptus or God had some part in it- but this time it continued for weeks, the rainwater soaking into the soil and pooling in crevices, the canals of the Harbor overflowing into the streets. the people grow worried, turning to the Qixing who have no solutions, and the hidden Rex Lapis investigates in the shadows and uncovers nothing.

Childe simply watches the rain in silence, leaning against the cave wall, the horns of his Foul Legacy form lightly clacking against the damp stone. unlike the rest, he knows the source of the downpour- but it doesn't make it any less worrying.

there's a soft groan behind him, and Childe's head jerks towards the mound of blankets on the floor, hurrying to kneel beside the figure buried beneath the covers- the Creator, his God.

you.

how long have you been sick for? too long- far too long for anyone, but there's not much either of you can do, with the entire nation and beyond hunting for your head. his claws brush your forehead, a low whine slipping from his fanged maw when he feels it burning, just as it was the day before. the Abyss in him howls for revenge- to strike down those who hurt you, those who chased you away, those who forced you to hide in a dark, cold cavern- but a shuddering gasp from you quiets his desire for blood, cooling it to soft, fluttering concern in his chest. your eyes, previously screwed shut in pain, crack open as you look dazedly at Childe's Foul Legacy.

"Ajax...?"

ah. his God uttering his true name in such a gentle tone would normally make his heart soar, but now it simply makes him whimper, knowing you can barely see him through the haze of your sickness. your hand extends out from under the blankets, weakly grasping one of his claws, and in a moment of solemn, fretful reverence, he brings it to his mouth and presses his version of a kiss to your too-warm skin. you shift, attempting to scoot closer, and Childe carefully scoops you and the covers into his arms, resting his chin atop your head as you curl against his chest.

you let out a wracking cough, and Childe has to hold back a sob, instead focusing on purring smoothly to help you sleep, talons mindful of the injuries and bruises that litter your body.

holding his God close, Childe quietly watches the rain thin slightly as you find comfort in his hold.

[coochellati]

dont be shy give us more sub!bruno hcs 👉👈

Why of course you can!! Ho could I say no when you’ve included such a devious Blumoji???

I’ve got even better news for you: guess what. I didn’t just give you some headcanons. Nope—I also wrote a little smut fic to go along with these. Ehehehehe I hope you enjoy it ;)

Without further ado…

Submissive Bruno Headcanons!!!

Bruno Bucciarati enjoys giving up control. It's a nice change of pace--the idea of relinquishing his authority to this partner is exciting.

He’s unabashedly vocal. This man is not afraid to let you know exactly how he's feeling, holding nothing back.

At first, he may try to put on a sly act, wearing a smug poker face while he tells you, "Try me." Even though he's usually phenomenal at keeping calm and collected, getting dominated by you is one of the few things that will make him break. It's almost jarring how quickly he crumbles apart in the bedroom, rapidly deteriorating into a trembling, breathy mess.

He’ll let you restrain him--he enjoys bondage. True, he could easily escape using Sticky Fingers, but he doesn't even try.

Bruno loves it when you play with his stand; the phantom sensations drive him nuts. He derives a lot of pleasure from watching you.

He likes being overstimulated, and you can actually make him cry if he’s overstimulated enough. It's pretty easy to achieve this by pleasuring him and his stand at the same time.

He also enjoys edging. 'Nuff said.

He whimpers whenever he’s orgasmed a lot.

[hangmanbradshaw]

You better take it from me, that boy is like a disease

Call a girl like that renegade runaway.

They say we got tangled in a love triangle, a fatal game of truth or dare, but the truth remains a mystery.

Or, Bradley’s new to town, and if you ask the townsfolk, Jake’s a Cowboy Casanova and Nat’s a devil in a satin dress. Oh, and there’s the small fact they’re at the center of a local disappearance.

[iobsesswaytoomuch]

Numbing The Pain (or: everyone gets knocked unconscious :D) [Ninjago] 

Soooo.... I kinda wrote a oneshot based on a headcannon by @jinxed-ninjago. I haven't really ever shown my writing to others, so we'll see how it goes. >:)

Cw: injuries, numbness, electrical injury and violence, uhhhhh... Overall angst?

In Jay’s opinion, being injured was less than preferable, for a number of reasons. Being stuck on bedrest every second of every day. Not being able to join the others for dinner as he listened to the laughter and joking echoing down the hall while he stared at the tray of food resting in his lap. 

It wasn’t the other ninja’s fault he was lonely, he just really wished he didn’t have to stay in bed all the time. On the bright side though, he got to play video games all day, and he got out of the usual work to maintain the monastery. After all, nothing like the power of positive thinking!

It was a stupid injury. Why were legs so breakable?

They’d been training, like usual. He didn’t remember much, but he recalled being hit by something, then waking up to his leg in a cast and Cole apologizing profusely. 

Apparently, Cole had accidentally lost control of his powers, and hit Jay with a boulder, causing him to land on top of Kai, unconscious. 

He didn’t blame Cole though. He knew as well as anyone what it was like to lose control. It made him think of when they used to fight over Nya, as Cole had apologized. It was strange how far they’d come from that.

A sudden crash startled him out of his thoughts. More followed after that, banging and thudding and shouting. He heard the others rushing to meet the cacophony, and resisted the urge to leap out of bed and join them. They could handle it without him, and he’d (grudgingly) promised to stay put. 

The sounds of fighting resounded through the room, and he grit his teeth. They’d be fine. He wondered what the heck was attacking them this time. The serpentine again? Nindroids? Maybe Garmadon had somehow come back again and was attacking? Some other random villain they’d never even heard of before? The questions raced through his mind like a river as he listened to the combat growing closer. 

Abruptly, his thoughts were once again interrupted as Cole was thrown through the air, crashing against the wall beside him and crumpling as his yell broke off upon impact.

“COLE!!” Jay screamed as he slumped to the floor. “Hey, I already passed out this week! Don’t tell me you’re stealing my thunder,” he tried to mask his wrangled nerves with humor, but Cole didn’t answer. 

“Oookay, so this is bad,” he mumbled to himself shakily as he considered his options. He could sit here and listen as the rest of his family was potentially defeated and/or hurt. He could try to help Cole (who hadn’t stirred yet but that was fine it’d be fine) somehow, without injuring himself more. Or, he could ignore his stupid broken leg and the pain that would undoubtedly follow, and go help them fight. 

As he debated, Zane decided to join the party and hurtled into the room, landing on top of Cole. As his motion stilled, Jay gasped and held back a second scream as he took in the damage. 

Half of Zane’s face looked as if it had been chewed on by a large, feral dog, ripped apart and unveiling the robotic parts underneath. One of his arms was missing, and there were open gouges displaying sparking circuits and wires, making sharp buzzing sounds. His eyes flickered as he spoke.

“S-system-m mal- mal-function- circuits-s ove-er loadd-ded-” his voice glitched before his eyes went dark and his body still. 

Jay stared, open-mouthed, before he made a decision. Jolting upright, he leapt to his feet. Or at least tried to. As soon as any tension was put onto his foot, instant agony engulfed him, and he collapsed back onto the bed. Clenching his jaw tightly, he breathed through the pain as it slowly subsided the tiniest bit. 

“C’mon Jay… You can do this!” he said, voice wavering, before trying again.

The pain was worse this time. His teeth grated against each other as his breathing became labored, but he managed to keep his footing this time. White hot knives felt like they were slicing up his leg, eventually getting so bad that it went numb.

“Well. That’s not good,” he said to the empty air as his voice quivered more. It still hurt, but now more like pins and needles gently poking him. Within a few more seconds, a lot of the feeling in his leg subsided, but he couldn’t stand any longer. Sagging against the bed, he slid to the floor. Now that he was off his foot, it started throbbing, making spots cloud his vision for a moment. 

As he looked across the room at Zane and Cole (both still unresponsive, but at least Cole’s chest was rising and falling), an idea struck him.

“Huh… circuits… nerve circuits,” he said out loud as the idea developed. Sure, it was a very very stupid idea and could very well lead to bad results. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and by the First Master he wasn’t going to stand by! The shouting had intensified in volume, and he could make out the panicked voices of the other ninja. Besides, he and the others joked that his second elemental power was stupid ideas. That was his thing!

Mind still fuzzy from the aching torture he’d experienced moments before, he remembered Zane once infodumping about how nerves operated on electrical signals from the brain, and that when overloaded, could be numbed to pain (wow, he’d actually remembered that! See, he did pay attention, Kai).

Well. He was the master of lightning and therefore electricity after all. 

“Oh boy. I’m definitely getting yelled at later for this,” he said under his breath as he closed his eyes and focused.

How was he going to do this? Could he even do this? Was it possible to shock himself? He’d never tried before, but had been shocked by other lightning on occasion.

He thought about it as he concentrated on his power. Using his element was like sneezing; almost instinctual, quick, and slightly jarring, pushing it outside of himself. So… he’d have to reverse that. Ignoring the feeling in his gut that this was going to be very terrible, he shoved the growing anxiety down.

Taking a slow, deep breath, he imagined he was inhaling electricity as well as oxygen, and it being distributed through his nerves. 

A slight tingling sensation started circulating throughout his body, and he tried it again.

A blue glow emanated from him for a second behind his eyelids, sparking.

Then everything stopped.

The throbbing hadn’t just faded away. It was completely gone. Abruptly and instantly. And it wasn’t just the throbbing either; all feeling was absent. As he opened his eyes, he discovered that he couldn’t feel his clothes rubbing against his skin, the cold floor he was sitting on, the air stirring around him; it was all gone.

“Was this how Cole felt when he was a ghost?” Jay wondered, marveling at the numbness (and slightly panicking. He desperately hoped this could be reversed later).

Getting to his feet, this time without the agony part of it, he glanced back at his unconscious brothers one last time, then sprinted out the door and down the hallway, ignoring the way his foot crunched with every footfall. Doors blurred past him as he followed the sound of voices, now reduced to an alarmingly quiet level. There was no commotion anymore, sound just as absent as sensation. He drew nearer, then skidded around a corner and out into the training yard to observe the devastation that had transpired.   

Wooden practice dummies had been splintered and broken apart, scattered everywhere. Sparring targets and weapons had been mutilated, somehow embedded into the walls and ground like shrapnel. Burn and scorch marks littered the scene, a part of the monastery wall crumbling. The sky was a deep gray, casting long shadows.

About thirty enemies were scattered around, standing at attention with their backs to Jay and seemingly waiting for something. Or someone. They wore dark, blood red kasas that cast their faces into shadow, obscuring them. White robes accented with blacks and oranges flowed around them, with brass cuffs wrapped around their wrists. Glowing gold fire designs engraved into the cuffs were arranged artistically to resemble flames wrapping around each other. Sleek black, braided hair fell down to their waists, with vivid, fiery ribbons interwoven into them. He guessed they were all female warriors. They stared straight ahead, toward the gate and eerily motionless. The voices he had followed were whispers, drifting and tangling with each other in the air and incomprehensible. It made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, but he shook it off. 

Frantically, he cast his gaze around the yard, until he finally spotted the others. They were all dumped over in the corner, bodies splayed across the ground and faces contorted with pain, yet their eyes were closed and they all lay inert. After studying them for a moment, he noted with relief that they were all breathing.

Rage boiled inside of him, and his face hardened. 

No one. Did. That. To the people he loved. 

He turned back to the warriors spaced around the yard that still had not moved, hardly noticing the electricity starting to spark around his hands.

His emotions felt amplified. Stronger. His fury grew, consuming every other thought in his mind. 

He started vibrating as the neon static spread from his hands to circulate and jerk around his body, intertwining ropes of blinding blues and whites.

Lightning flashed around his feet as he took slow, deliberate steps.

Finally, the enemies turned, and instantly and simultaneously crouched into fighting stances, raising various weapons.

Too bad for them, that did nothing but amplify the surge he finally let loose. 

Sharp, blue-white cords arced toward each opponent, turning the air white and scorching. No sound escaped them as one by one, the strands of lightning hit them, causing their bodies to convulse. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement from the direction of the others, but paid no heed.

He ignored the way his body was steaming, and searched deeper as the unfortunate warriors still spasmed, unable to move and leave the current that he was feeding. There was no way he could stop now. He’d opened a door, and a thousand-pound waterfall had come gushing out. 

He searched deeper still, disregarding the horrifying scene as he tapped into the energy stored within himself that he had put there in the first place.

Instinctively, hardly acknowledging what he was doing, he wrapped it into a twisted, contorted ball, then pushed everything out.

When it finally ran out, satiated, the air returned to normal.

Thuds echoed around the now-silent training yard, as each female warrior crumpled and hit the ground, steam spiraling from their clothes and skin.

Everything was bleached white, except for a small circle around the other ninja, where they lay untouched.

Nya was propped up on her arms, head lifted to gaze at Jay. He couldn’t tell what emotion it portrayed. There was admiration, and affection. But fear and horror was also painted across her face, and it pained him to know that he was the reason for it. She started to stand up, but Jay couldn’t think anymore.

Feeling had come back.

Everywhere was in excruciating anguish. His hands and arms were burned, with protruding raised zigzags of scorched skin beginning to turn red. He stumbled, wincing as he was suddenly very aware of his leg again.

“Nya. I-I’m sorryh…” he trailed off as his knees gave out.

“JAY!” she yelled as she dashed over to him, catching him before his head could hit the ground.

The last thing he remembered was being encircled by her arms as muffled shouts rose up around him. Trusting Nya to take care of him, his eyes shut, and he drifted off into oblivion, chasing away the agony.

Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. Just unconscious :)

[queenofbaws]

Begging on my KNEES give me some of that sweet sweet jossam sustenance (preferably creeps cause I’m rereading lmao but I’ll take ANYTHING 👀) hope you’re doing well and had a lovely weekend!!! Thank you <3

She refused - refused - to believe it had actually taken him that long to notice, considering it had happened a hundred years ago, back when he'd first met her outside the student center, but when Josh gestured with his iced coffee and muttered, "What in the...when did this happen?!" it was with all the shock and awe of a theater student being told no, actually, people didn't enjoy it when you just randomly broke into song.

Unfortunately for him, she'd never taken a theater class in her life - Chris and Ashley could 'yes and' him all they wanted, but Sam played her own games, thanks very much.

"What, this?" she teased, promptly slipping her pinky out from where it had curled around his, having kept their hands linked without all the ick-factor of sweaty palms in the late-spring heat.

"Hey, whoa, hey, touchy, touchy...I don't think I said anything about stopping," he snickered, trying (and failing) to snatch her hand back as she angled herself this way and that, "I was just asking a simple question."

Sam crinkled her nose and glanced up at him, joking, "Pretty sure I gave you a simple answer," only to drop the act and laugh as he slung his arm around her shoulders to pull her close again. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," she smirked even as she leaned against him, pointing towards his hand as it hung near the strap of her messenger bag, "well now...when did this happen?"

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

[spiteful-crow]

Jonlock drabble #1

PROMPT: Sherlock being the one showing affection @comeonsherry / @alpurrtwhizkersss

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

"Home sweet home, Sherry," Jon sighed as they entered the manor. He was exhausted - once the door fell shut behind their backs, he found himself unable to move for a while. The grand staircase looked like an unclimbable mountain, but at least they had made it to their own four walls. It was a miracle they had found the strength to walk all the way back after the few days they'd had. Too busy with cases, they had barely slept, and Jon's mind was a mess. He needed sleep, and he needed it badly. It was likely considered improper, but he was sure there was no law against falling asleep on the floor. Stupid stairs could wait 'til tomorrow.

While thinking about collapsing on the ground and getting his well-deserved rest there and then, Sherlock had managed to walk past him in silence. He reminded Jon of a cat, never losing his grace and elegance no matter how dire the circumstances and how long the sleepless nights were. Eventually, Jon cracked an eye open to check on him. And there he was, in all his glory - the great Sherlock Holmes, standing right before him and giving him a look Jon could not read.

"Are you alright?" Jon's heart sank a little. The past days had not only been busy. They had been eventful as well. That was to say, they'd had a fight. Sherlock often became insufferable whenever he struggled. He hated it when a case was too easy - that much was true, but when something gave him the feeling that he could not solve it, oh, that was when the real trouble began. And, of course, he did solve it. He always succeeded at the end, but the self-doubt, whenever it plagued him, was his most detestable enemy. He was looking at Jon now, with a troubled look twisting his beautiful features, but before Jon could utter a word to comfort him, he had already closed the distance between them.

"Hey," Jon began, but Sherlock did not have talking in mind. Before Jon had the chance to realise what was happening, Sherlock pressed him against the solid wooden door and captured his lips in a fiery kiss. He pressed his body against Jon's, and his gloved hands found their way to both sides of the man's face. It was as if he was trying to keep the other in place - as if he feared Jon would push him away and vanish at any moment. As sweet and welcome as they were, Sherlock's kisses seemed almost too feverish, almost too hungry and desperate. It was like going against his own nature, but Jon felt obliged to break them and make sure his beloved was doing well.

"Sherry, are you alright?" Jon whispered and mirrored Sherlock's stance by cupping his face with both hands. The downcast blue eyes worried him, and he frowned.

"I am afraid I was too cruel to you, Jon. I did not mean to … no, I … it's not an excuse."

"Really?" Jon couldn't help but chuckle a little. "It was a stupid fight, Sherry. It meant nothing! I know you! I know you tend to get frustrated whenever something doesn't go your way. We grew up together, remember?"

"It's still not an excuse," Sherlock protested, but his eyes cleared a little as relief washed over him. "You should learn to let me do the apologising in the future instead of looking for ways to redeem me whenever I treat you unjustly." Jom hummed and contemplated his words.

"I fear I cannot do that. I am still your biggest fan and most passionate advocate. Sorry about that." They both laughed silently before Sherlock wrapped both arms around Jon's neck and gave him another peck on the lips.

"How would you feel about a break from the cases? For a day or two, just you and I, doing whatever your heart desires. I have neglected you lately, and I would like to make it up to you. May I?" He smiled and began showering Jon's face with little kisses. He wanted to make it up to the other, but he'd be lying if he claimed he wasn't enjoying this just as much.

"As if I'd ever say no to that." Jon grinned. He no longer felt like sleeping on the floor of the main hall. All of a sudden, the grand staircase seemed tiny.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

[the-dragon-hearted]

Writing the Shinazugawa brothers be like:

First preheat your oven to Angst° Fahrenheit or Hurt/comfort° Celsius

Put Sanemi and Genya in a small glass jar. Seal lid. Shake vigorously until miscommunications are well combined.

Pour your mixture of miscommunications and trauma onto a 6x6 baking sheet. Make sure your mixture is evenly spread so it will bake evenly.

Place mixture in the oven until the two's relationship is nearly unsalvageable. Don't let it sit too long though or you risk burning any chance of your reader desiring the two to reconnect.

Finally sprinkle a metric ton of near-death experience (or some actual character death if you're up to the extra spice) on top. Make sure to add reconciliation and apologies at this point, it's a critical component.

And you're done!

Let cool long enough to pour a cup of reader's tears. And enjoy!

[sailor-aviator]

I am cooking up an idea for a new Tyler fic....plotting....scheming even.....

[oblivions-dawn]

Convinced via Speech 100 to Give WIP

You have @thequeenofthewinter to thank for the posting of this late WIP. My chaos will thrive once again Thank you of course also to @umbracirrus and @bostoniangirl21 for the lovely WIP tags ❤❤ And to @yewphoric who saw this mess of a WIP and enjoyed it dlkgjlkdjgklf As I've mentioned before, I am sadly sick. And still sick, much to my dismay. HOWEVER that just means I've been simmering in ideas and the need to write, so although progress has been slow, it's starting to be made again! I have some things planned for this chapter so we'll see how it goes~ For now enjoy the opening of the new chapter! >:3c

“Ah, there you are.”

Vigdis shoved a spoonful of lukewarm beef stew into her mouth and looked up to see that Gunmar stood before her, his buff arms folded over his chest. Annoyance creased her brow as he stared down at her with an expectant expression. She chewed slowly, then swallowed.

“What the fuck do you want,” she grumbled.

He scoffed. “Still as charming as ever.” She scowled at him as she scooped up another bite of stew. He continued. “Make yourself useful and clear out the cave by the fort’s entrance.”

Icy eyes narrowed into an exasperated glare, only to be met with a cool, quirked red brow from Gunmar.

“What? It’s not like you’re not doing anything.”

Vigdis sniffed derisively. “No shit, idiot.”

Gunmar chuckled quietly as he cast his fern green eyes around the empty dining hall. It was too early for most members of the Dawnguard to have dinner, which suited the hunter just fine. The hearth rumbled lowly yet noticeably behind her, the warmth almost searing her back to match her growing irritation. When he finally glanced back at her, his expression became rippled with confusion.

“Where’s Serana?”

[littlesentences]

How to be Human blurb

Ten years ago, Life and Death were drawn to events less than one street away from each other. Death: A little boy, Michael, hit by a car while running after a ball he had been playing with. Life: An unplanned homebirth.

The baby came out stillborn, and Michael was left in a coma.

10 years later, they find themselves in the same room as Michael, and by circumstance or situation, get sucked into his subconscious mind, which is alive and well and, apparently, dealing with being in a coma for 10 years rather well. But two immortal beings stuck in an eight-year-old's mind is never a good thing, and how long can it possibly last without severe consequences to not only Michael, but Life and Death?

Prologue. Death: part one, part two. Life: part one, part two. 3 (Death and Life). 4 (Death). 5 (Life). 6 (Death). 7 (Life). 8 (Death). 9 (Life). 10 (Death). 11 (Life). 12 (Death). 13 (Life).

[ryker-writes]

The wedding

This is made for @azulashengrottospiano to celebrate her and Azul's wedding. I hope you can all enjoy

(if I get anyone's names wrong I'm sorry)

Azul was nervous

more nervous than he's ever been

it's not everyday you get married

he couldn't help but feel more nervous the longer he waited at the altar

he had spent so long preparing for this moment, he shouldn't be nervous

everything was going smoothly so far

the wedding planners, Irene and Ryoko made sure it did

everyone got there early to help set up, and it all looked beautiful

the beach next to the Coral Sea was covered in chairs with purple ribbons and seashells on the back

guests lined themselves up in the chairs and waited patiently for the big moment, chatting amongst themselves

finally, the music played and the guests all stood

Jade came out first with Rinna

Floyd with Valerie

then there was dream anon who came out throwing flower petals

finally, there she was

the person he treasured the most

the one who never judged him

the one who made him feel loved

his pearl, and the love of his life, Auburn

she was stunning

even more than he ever could've imagined

great seven, how did he get so lucky?

the closer he got, the more emotional he could feel himself getting

this was really happening

Azul could feel tears start to pool in his eyes

no, he shouldn't cry

this is his wedding and everyone was watching after all

Jade and Floyd were snickering behind him, but he didn't care

he was too focused on her to care

Auburn made it to the altar, and the pastor, Siren, began the ceremony

Azul vowed to care for and love Auburn for the rest of his life

and everyone cheered as the ceremony came to a close

Overall, it was a very beautiful wedding full of love, and surrounded by friends

that day, Azul signed the greatest contract, and one that could never be broken

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

Prelude Motel Rating: E Chapters: 3 [complete] Word-count: 11,600 words Additional Tags: thug!mickey, mysterious-stranger!ian, hurt/comfort, sexual tension, temptation, first time frottage Warnings: blood, descriptions of passing out/stab wound, gun violence, alcohol, cigarettes, internalized homophobia, light stalking ✨🤍 for @suzy-queued 🤍✨ happy holidays deena! love, me - your devoted secret santa <3 thank you @gallavichthings for putting together this year's gift exchange!

Summary: When Mickey’s secret spot is infiltrated by an intriguing stranger, all the warning signs are there. Despite the voice in the back of his head telling him to disengage, he can’t help but bite off more than he can chew, running straight back to the spot and the stranger when a job leaves him injured. Enter: the Prelude Motel - where, for the next three days, Mickey finds himself hiding from more than just his pursuers. 

[ read on archive of our own ]

[ 🎶 playlist on spotify 🎶 ]

[impishtubist]

snippet sunday

Ty for the tag @fruity-individual I am kissing you on the mouth. 😘

Also I started yet another WIP, so: 

“You alright?” Sirius asked after a few moments spent working in companionable silence. 

“Yeah.” 

Sirius eyed him for a moment, but didn’t say anything. 

“It’s just.” Harry swallowed, shaking his head.

“Just what?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a kid?” 

Sirius dropped the candlestick holder he had been polishing and stared at Harry.

“Because I don’t,” he said slowly. 

“That’s not what that tapestry says.”

@greyeyedmonster-18 I am bullying you for a sports snippet. 

[queenofbaws]

Doing something a little different and yet very familiar! Cause I come bearing more song lyrics for six-sentence prompts separated over a couple of asks, but this time it's all from the same song, I just really liked the chorus and the different vibes a few different lines had from the others. Sorry not sorry lol.

'Feed my insanity

Write me a tragedy

Let's make a memory

A night to forget'

"So there's this hero," Varric says once his ears have stopped ringing and the unnatural brightness of the evening sky has faded enough that the razor-points of Hawke's armor, her Champion's regalia, have grown dull again, "and she's one of the good ones - not one of those stuffy heroes, not the kind that goes around ranting about the importance of doing your part, or looking on the bright side of things. She's always been more about wiping the blood off her face and throwing another punch...that kind of hero. One day - " and there he has to pause, not because his throat is dry (it is) or because he isn't sure what to say next (he isn't), but because anyone who's known her for ten minutes knows the error he's just made, " - a lot of days, really, maybe most days, she finds herself at an impasse: Things are bad, as bad as things can get, and she has to decide whether she's willing to duck her head down and run to fight another day...or if she's going to dig her feet into the muck and keep swinging until she can't anymore."

Hawke takes a long time to turn around, long enough that there's a moment where he wonders if she will at all, but when she does, he sees the answer in her eyes even before she asks, "If this were one of your stories, Varric, what would you have her do?"

He doesn't need to think about it, not when he's been thinking about it every day for the past five years, worrying at each scenario as he lays in bed, staring at the ceiling, weighing whether hers is a loss he could survive: "She's gotta run, Hawke - she's gotta go before this place fucking kills her."

She laughs at that, but the air's too hot, too acrid, too, too something, for it to sound right; "Shame this isn't one of your stories, then," she says, her smile somehow sadder than her laugh, and then she pats Anders's shoulder and helps ease him back to his feet, and together the three of them watch the Chantry burn, knowing exactly the sort of ending coming their way.

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!