#i wrote this in october and forgot???

[sexynetra]

“I… wow, you look incredible.”  with boxer au

Hi I just found this fully written in my drafts from the end of October and I never posted it???? Anyways idk if you remember sending this ask but :) here you go :)

~~~~~

read on Ao3

“You know, you really aren’t allowed to request specific nurses. This is an emergency room,” Marcia said as she stepped inside the hospital room, eyes skimming the chart in her hands. “You can if you’re as cute as I am. Or maybe it was my annoying persistence that finally wore them down. Not sure which.” Marcia finally looked up at the now-familiar voice, a soft smile on her lips. Over the past month, Anetra had come to the emergency room for a variety of cuts and bruises, and each time, she had managed to finagle her way into having Marcia take care of her. It didn’t hurt that Anetra had endeared herself to the rest of the staff there over her many visits. She opened her mouth to make some snarky reply before her brain caught up to the sight before her. Most of the time when Anetra came in, she was in workout gear, clearly coming straight from whatever fight she had been at. But this time, she looked ready for a night on the town. Her hair, albeit messy, had been curled and pinned into an updo, her skimpy dress left little to the imagination, and her already pretty face was even more striking with the addition of carefully applied makeup. Marcia had seen a million drunk incidents, a million club and partygoers dressed up for a fun night who ended up in her care. But none of them held a candle to the still-smirking girl sitting in front of her. “I… wow, you look incredible. Um. I mean. What brought you here anyways? You don’t seem to be in distress, and I can't see any visible injuries,” Marcia swallowed, trying to get herself back on track. This was a professional setting, after all. She needed to do her job, not drool over a pretty girl. “I was out dancing and there was a guy who wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I had to resort to using my right hook to get my message across,” Anetra said, mirth in her tone. “Okay. Did you land it wrong? What’s bothering you?” Marcia asked as she stepped closer, motioning for Anetra to hold out her hand. Anetra extended her right hand delicately and Marcia carefully took it in her own, moving the hand gently as she watched for Anetra’s reactions. Anetra winced slightly as Marcia tilted her hand up. “I didn’t have a great angle, my wrist is feeling kind of sore.” “The wrist is a delicate joint, I can imagine it isn’t comfortable. It doesn’t seem like it's broken, though. And you really don’t need the ER for anything less than a break,” Marcia glanced up, catching Anetra’s knowing smirk. “You already knew that though, didn’t you? You probably know perfectly well what a broken wrist feels like.” “It may not be broken, but it still hurts. Think you could kiss it better?” Anetra fluttered her eyelashes. “Did you seriously come to the Emergency Room without a real injury? I think this might be the most expensive way anyone has ever tried to flirt with me.” “Is it working?” Marcia’s tongue darted over her lips as she stared at the woman sitting in front of her, the woman she had met just one month ago but who had become a constant in her life already, just through her ER visits. “I’ll let you know if it's working or not when I get off my shift in an hour. Maybe over some late-night diner food,” Marcia smiled, squeezing her hand before letting go and stepping back. “I have some other patients to check on, but if you want to wait in the lobby, I can come find you after.” Anetra hummed, pushing herself to her feet and smoothing her hands down her dress. “We’ll make quite the duo.” She winked and blew her a kiss before walking out of the room. Marcia leaned against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment. The next hour was going to feel like an eternity.

[flowersdiceandlove]

Au were WWX makes a deal w/ a demon to posses his body and in return will get revenge on the Wen and protect the people wwx loves instead of creating demonic cultivation when he’s tossed in then Burial Mounds. So WWX is stuck in his body while this demon is in control, pretending to be him. He, of course, gets bored of just being there unable to really do anything so he starts talking to the demon who can hear him since he’s in his head. He becomes like a backseat driver to the demon and makes comments on the demons actions as “Wei Wuxian.” Eventually he drives the demon so mad with his inane chatter and Wei Wuxian-ness that the demon stops possessing him to just get away from WWX and his endless talking.

But, in the meantime, WWX was watching closely and learning how the demon was doing demonic cultivation and stuff and so knows how to use it and was developing a lot of arrays and talismans and stuff that he couldn’t write down/didn’t want the demon knowing about. Also, he’ll sometimes tell the demon to do something and the demon will do it to just get him to shut up about it. The demon also helps WWX realize he’s in love with lwj after WWX blabbers on about him for days on end and not seeming like he’s gonna stop any time soon, making the demon’s eye twitch. He gets so fed up with WWX’s unknowing pining that he helps him through his bi-realization so he can finally have some peace in their head.

Of course this just leads to WWX gushing about lwj even more bc now he knows why he can’t stop thinking about the other and everything reminds him of him.

The demon is seriously regretting it’s life choices.

It won’t for long though bc WWX has decided this demon is family now and will be aggressive adopting it once he gets control of his body back. You don’t just spend years sharing a body and mind with someone and not make them part of your found family after all.

[sosadraws]

Sometimes I do this thing where before starting a new piece of media, I write down my impressions for the plot and characters based on it's fandom. This was the one for SIGNALIS

[after-witch]

So, you've never really explained to us - your followers who are actually into Chrollo - why you suddenly turned on him. Your answers have been kinda vague and don't really add up (kind of inmature tbh)

do

do you think I really banished him to the shadow realm

with my attempted love of pork rinds and old hairbrush?

without a fair duel, no less?

[luveline]

part one of hide and seek (working title lol) is finally done

[christine-ye]

So I might be starting Kamen Rider Kuuga and OOO next week for their anniversaries 👀

[mcalhenwrites]

A year spent together, as always Year of the OTP prompts for Hazel/Ferdinand August: Storm (Yes, I'm behind on these, blame Seasons for the distraction!)

“You’re going to be kind to the person I love most in the world,” scolds Ferdinand. “You are doing your best, and your job and family make everything much harder for you. We have a beautiful house and this warm bed thanks to you, and you are a lovely boy. My lovely boy.”

[mvnces]

☔↩️ or [reverse] for my muse(s) to catch yours instead. / @ sobieski so he gets to experience kurjak's 🧍‍♂️ in full force 💋

send ☔ or [rain] to catch my muse(s) out in the rain with no umbrella. add ↩️ or [reverse] for my muse(s) to catch yours instead.

Sobieski was not sure what he had expected when he got home that night. 

It had been a long shift. One of those forty-eight hour shifts were something happened right as things were winding down from the last couple of things that had gone on. Thankfully, they were not called out for any legit fires but that did not mean that he was not exhausted. That he did not want to climb up the stairs of his house and completely collapse onto his bed. He didn’t have to worry about Tank, either, since he was sure that his nieces had taken the bulldog out and on walks for the hours of his shift. (Or, rather, his sister had done so while his nieces had tagged along). 

But he had not been expecting for Kurjak to be waiting for him. Just standing out on the deck, drenched by rain, while Sobieski knew full and well that he could have gotten into the house. Past experience would say from breaking and entering. More recent experience would say the fact that Sobieski had given Kurjak a key after so many visits. 

“Were you waiting up for me?” Eyebrows raised toward his hairline as he walked up the steps. Pushing the hood to his jacket back, a small head tilt was given as he considered Kurjak. “In the rain for dramatic effect, too, or something?”

[gremlinshatephilosophers]

Well I haven’t written the fic yet but I did write several paragraphs of notes reminding my future self on the politics of mascara. I have a really old fic in my drafts that needs to get out though so I’ll probably be posting that next.

[evertidings]

— MARCH 2025.

Accomplishments.

What a month, huh? I glanced back at my update for February and wow, I really did not accomplish much in that month. In all fairness, I had a lot going on, but hey! That means my March update in comparison looks really good lol.

We’re already a third of the way through April by the time I’m writing this, so I’m a little late (when am I not, really?) but because of that, I can confidently say that the writing portion of Chapter 12 is nearly done! I was powering through it for most of March and now I’m slowly pushing through to the end; it’ll probably be done sometime this week, if everything goes well. After that comes editing, which is always the most frustrating part of doing this for me.

Because I’ve been working on this for so long, some of the chapter was written as early as October 2024, which, when you have my short-term memory, can be pretty bad. It’s kind of amusing when I stumble upon information that I already wrote at the beginning of the chapter, repeated again at the end because I forgot I mentioned it. That usually means more work for me though, since I have to cut it out and fill the empty space leftover, so you can imagine that I’m not very excited to start proofreading.

But, onto happier things. In terms of chapter content, I think this is the most RO-centric chapter I’ve ever written. I might have gone overboard, but there are three separate scenes with the RO of your choice. Some scenes are shorter than others, of course, but I’ve never fit so many in a chapter—it’s kind of exciting. It also makes sense since the romance lock is very soon (I may or may not have a chapter planned for it and am just keeping my lips locked), so I want you to have as much time possible with your potential choices. All of them are unique in their own way, though admittedly similar. Even so, I feel like they all make sense considering the content of the chapter and honestly, I doubt any of you will complain haha. They’re nice to have.

It’s a nice reprieve to the heaviness that Eliana brings to the chapter. I know she’s my character, but she’s honestly taken on a mind of her own and evolved so much throughout the writing process. My goal was to make her difficult to understand and, well, it seems like I successfully accomplished that. Aside from Sebastian, she’s probably been my favourite figurehead-like character to write. Her intrigue makes her so interesting, especially since she doesn’t like showing all her cards from the beginning. It’ll be a while until you’re able to put a finger on her character.

But, you’ll find that out soon! I know I said I wanted to put Chapter 12 out this month, and I could if I worked myself to the bone, but I think pushing it to Early May (first week or so) is best. In the past, I’ve given myself very little time to edit and code the chapter once it’s written out and it’s stressed me out a lot. For something that is supposed to be a hobby, I’m very harsh on myself with deadlines and I don’t think it’s fair for me to lose sleep over this, so, hopefully, you all understand. I’ll keep you all updated if I do manage to push the date up though and, of course, there’ll be an announcement once a date is official.

With that said, I hope you’re all taking care of yourselves and have a wonderful April!

Stats.

Chapter Total: 55,738 words (+14,113)

Game Total: ~567,170

[clumsiestgiantess]

Oh shit I forgot the Erica pov of the Ruler of Everything AU

Updated my pinned post with all the horror shorts I posted over October!

I have basically no plan as to what I want to write/post next, so if there’s a story universe of mine that you want to see more of let me know!

[sweetdispatch]

I can explain - N. Hischier & J. Hughes

6 days of kinkmas pairing: Nico Hischier x fem!reader + Jack Hughes x fem!reader summary: She's hooking up with Jack and Nico without them knowing about each other. One day they found out about it and had an idea warning: NSFW, graphic sex (18+), threesome, oral (m receiving), swearing, cum play, degradation note: Merry Christmas guys🎄❤️

It was a complicated time for you. You were entangled in two romances. You’ve met Jack in January. Something clicked between two of you but after hearing that he’s unfaithful in relationships, you wanted to keep it simple and start in fwb with him. You needed sex and not heartbreak. When he got an injury, he left New Jersey. You still had a couple of months at university and searched for someone to replace him. 

This is how you met Nico. In April, you ran into him in one of the clubs and ended up hooking up in the bathroom. He asked for your phone number and you gladly gave him. You thought that it’s over between you and Jack and decided to focus on Nico, especially when he was caring about you and saw more in you than sex. You pictured that two of you can be together at some point of your life.

During summer, you returned to your house and completely forgot about them. You put focus on your friends and other things than remembering about two guys with whom you’ve been hooking up during summer semester. None of them wrote to you and it was a closed chapter, until you returned to New Jersey for another year at university and the NHL started. 

Jack wrote to you, asking if you’re free tonight. Of course you were, so you met and slept together. Two of you returned to the dynamic from the beginning of the year when he was showing up at your door wanting to take his steam on you. It was fine for you until Nico did the same thing. He wrote to you asking if you’re still studying here. You two started going on dates that sometimes ended up in his bed. 

At first, you didn’t see a problem in this but you learned from your friend that they’re teammates and really good friends. When you heard that, you felt trapped. What are the odds that two guys you’re seeing are friends? You wanted to get out of both relationships but you couldn’t. Both of them meant a lot to you. 

The only thing left for you was to hope they’ll never learn about each other. October and November were unproblematic but that changed in December. You went to a bar with your friends to celebrate the start of the Christmas break. At the same bar, Nico and Jack with a couple of his teammates arrived to celebrate the win. Nico spotted you at the bar.

“I’ll be right back, I just say hi to the girl I’m flirting with. I told you about her” Nico said to Jack and he nodded, trying to see what the girl looked like. He froze when he saw that the girl he’s hooking up with, is the mysterious girl that Nico told him about. 

You saw Nico and excused yourself from your friends. You hugged him and kissed his cheek. You two stood there for a couple of minutes chatting about your lives lately. Jack decided to interrupt you two.

“Hi Y/N” You heard and froze on the spot. You’ve been caught.

“Hi Jack, I didn’t know you were here too” You said trying to avoid their eyes on you.

“You two know each other?” Nico asked, confused. 

“Yes, she’s the girl I’m sleeping with” Jack answered and all you wanted was to disappear. 

“Is this true?” Nico asked you.

“I can explain” You took a deep breath and continued. “I met Jack in January and we kinda started hooking up but when he left, I met you and I thought Jack forgot about me so I focused on you but he wrote to me in September and we came back to what we had and later you also wrote to me and we started seeing each other. I swear, I didn’t know that you two are friends. I found out about this a couple weeks ago and wanted to stop seeing both of you but you’re great guys so I couldn’t” You were rambling.

“So you’ve been sleeping with me and Jack?” You nodded ashamed. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would you do that?”

“I-I don’t have an answer. All I can say is sorry for this mess” You wanted to cry.

“I have an idea how you can apologise” Jack started. “How about having sex in three?” You looked at him and before you could say something, Nico interrupted.

“I think it’s a great idea. Since she’s so greedy for both of us, I think we should do it” Nico spoke to Jack and both of them turned to face you. “What do you think?” 

“Umm, fine” You answered, wetness growing in your panties on the thought of both of them fucking you. 

You told your friends that you’re leaving them and the boys went to say the same thing to their teammates. When you left the club, Nico proposed to go to his place on which you and Jack agreed. You were excited but at the same time, you were nervous. You never had two guys at once but there was no coming back from this. 

Nico let you enter the apartment first. The minute the door was closed, you felt someone grab your arm and turned you around. Jack pulled you into a kiss and handed you to Nico. He kissed you and you felt that Jack was trying to take off your coat. You looked at them not sure of what they’re planning. In a quick move, Nico threw you on his shoulder and carried you to the bedroom. Jack followed him. 

Gently, Nico placed you on his bed and got rid of your dress. You felt overwhelmed feeling both guys eyes on you but Jack turned you around so you were laying on your stomach with ass and head hanging out from both sides. They were standing behind you and you couldn’t see anything. The only thing you heard was them taking off their clothes and whispering to each other. Jack went around the bed and kneeled in front of you so he could face you. 

“Who would have thought you’re such a slut? That one dick is not enough for you and has to fuck two guys” He placed his thumb on your bottom lip and you took it into your mouth. You started sucking his finger. “Such a dirty girl. Let’s fuck this behaviour out of you” 

Nico pulled down your panties and went with his fingers through your pussy. 

“So wet for us. Is the thought of being filled with two dicks turned you on?” You hummed around Jack’ thumb. 

Jack took out his thumb from your mouth and stood up. Your eyes were on the line of his dick. You pulled your hand from behind and started stroking his cock. You raised your head to look into his eyes. The next thing you felt was Nico’ dick deep down your pussy. You moaned loudly at this feeling of his cock stretching your tight hole. 

He was pounding into you roughly and with each move you became more vocal. Jack was tired of hearing you and decided to shut you with his dick. You gladly accepted his cock in your mouth. He grabbed your hair and face fuck you. You were moaning and gagging around him. Hot tears were spilling from your eyes.

You never felt so full like today. Nico’ dick was sunk deep down your pussy and he was thrusting into you with power. His hands were placed on your waist to keep you in place. You were sure that you’ll have bruises there tomorrow from his hard grip. Meanwhile, Jack’ tip was hitting the back of your throat. He was pushing your head deeper with each thrust. 

This felt incredible for you, to have both of them at the same time in you. They both were great in bed but being in this position, at their mercy was turning you on even more. You were close to your orgasm and Nico could feel it when your muscles were tightening around his length. 

“What do you think Jack? Does she deserve to cum? I can feel she’s close” Nico asked and Jack laughed. You looked at him with your teary eyes with his cock still in your mouth.

“Yeah, let her know how good we are for our slut” He replied and pushed your head and the tip of your nose hit his pubic bone. 

Nico placed his hand on your clit to stimulate you even more. Your orgasm hit you like a truck and you could see stars in your eyes. It was overwhelming feeling but he didn’t stop fucking you. He was trying to reach his own release. With one last thrust, he spilled his cum inside of you. 

He pulled out of you but Jack was still fucking your mouth. You could feel that he’s close because his dick was trembling inside your mouth. After a couple of seconds, you could feel his warm cum inside your mouth. You swallowed every drop of it and opened your mouth to prove him. He caressed your cheek and you smiled. Quickly, you turned to lay on your back and took a deep breath. 

“This was incredible” You breathed out. “We should do it again” You looked at them.

“I’m up for it” Jack chuckled.

You tried to stand up and get dressed when Nico stopped you. 

“You’re staying here tonight. You need to rest” He said. 

“But…” You started but he interrupted you.

“No, but. You’re tired and I’m not letting you go back” You sighed defeated. 

“I’ll leave you guys but we’re in touch” Jack said and placed a quick kiss on your forehead. “You were incredible today and Nico is right, you need to rest” Like that, Jack left you and Nico alone. 

Nico went to the kitchen and gave you a bottle of water to drink. He pulled the duvet over your naked body. He kissed your shoulder and brought you closer to his chest. He cuddled you to sleep and you never felt happier. Maybe having both of them around was a good idea - you thought before you fell asleep. 

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Moves

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: loosely based off Suki Waterhouse's Moves. It was also supposed to be SMUT, but apparently that wasn't meant to be.

Author's note 2: y'all I meant to post this earlier but got distracted.

Summary: Y/n has had feelings for Andrew for a while now, and she's pretty sure he feels the same. Can one night change everything?

Warnings: unrequited love, but also, more requited than not.

She likes him – maybe its a little more than like, at this point. She adores the colour of his eyes, the way they’re green when its bright out, but then when they meet at dimly lit pubs or he hangs around late at night and neither of them bothers to turn on an overhead light, they’re this dark, hazel hue. She is thrilled by his laugh – not the polite courtesy chuckle he spares when someone tells a joke that isn’t even funny – she means that full bodied sound that erupts from his throat when they’re watching that one episode of that one show, the way he rocks backwards a little and rests his hand over his chest. And there’s something about the way he says her name too, that makes Y/n giddy inside, especially when she picks up his call late at night, while he’s on tour and the rest of the band is asleep but he can’t seem to keep his eyes shut without her voice being the last thing he hears before doing it.

Andrew told her that once;

"I don't think I could sleep if I tried....I need to talk to you first. Hear your voice so I can just...."

"Just what?"

He paused, hesitating, "nothing, I just like the way you sound. That's all."

Y/n could have sworn that it would have been the call that changed everything. She'd held her breath until around two am, when he finally yawned and said he was going to try to get some sleep.

He must feel the same, Y/n determined shortly after that. Because friends don’t sling their long arms around your shoulders, or kiss your forehead right after pulling you against them.

Friends don’t have moments where their lips get so close to the other’s that it won’t expend any real effort to make them to touch.

Andrew was the one to pull away that night and apologize profusely before blaming it on the liquor. She’s never told him, but she wishes he hadn’t. She thinks about it so painfully often that she swears the memory is burning a hole into her heart – the ache of what could've been, but isn’t.

Y/n is thinking about it tonight. They’re sitting on Andrew's back porch, a bottle of wine shared between them. The backyard is illuminated by the light over the wide, glass door that separates his kitchen from the deck, and the blue hued, inground lights that give the pool that sits between his house and the foliage bordering the woods a glacial glow. Off in the distance, she can hear crickets and the occasional rustle of some other, nocturnal creature moving through the trees.

The mood would be entirely romantic if it weren’t for the smell of barbeque and booze clinging to the thick, humid air. It's why they’re outside; its unusually warm and sticky for an Irish October, but Andrew has informed her its becoming typical for this time of the year. He also said that being outside helps, but Y/n thinks that was just an excuse for them to sit outside in hopes that the fresh air would sober them up.

But she doesn’t particularly mind – even if she’s been bitten by a couple mosquitoes.

Everyone else is long gone, and he'd asked her to stay back for a few more drinks while she helped him cram leftovers into his fridge. Its not unusual for her to be the only one left at his place – or vise versa – so Y/n is used to being alone in Andrew’s presence. In fact, she thinks she prefers when its just the pair of them, occupying a quiet space saying nothing but whatever pops into their somewhat inebriated minds;

“I read this poem that made me think of you.”

“I bought you a jacket, but I forgot to pack it.”

“Have you read that book I told you about?”

“Would you read this thing I wrote?” He asks after a couple hours of them going around in circles of menial chatter. Of late, everything Andrew writes is about her, and while he’s thought of telling her that more times than he can count, he can't seem to force the words out of his mouth. It isn’t even that he’s intimidated by her – that would be far too uncomplicated for an overthinker of his caliber. No.

He could never be intimidated by Y/n anyway; he’s known her for too long, too well. She’s the person that puts him most at ease; his heart doesn’t quicken when she touches his arm the way she’s touching it now as she says, “Of course, I’d love to.” In fact, the tick in his chest slows when she does that, he isn't nervous or worried or anything, he's just…. happy. And though her hands are usually so cold, Andrew swears there’s a tingle permeating the thin fabric of his grey Henley when she touches him.

Their eyes meet as Y/n promises to read what he’s written and she finds herself drawing in a shallow breath. There’s something else on the barest top of her liquor-stained tongue, but its refusing to break past her lips;

“I’ll read anything you write. I’d do anything for you, really.”

“Great, great,” Andrew beams suddenly, straightening his back before standing with purpose. “I’m gonna get it, wait here.” He doesn’t wait for Y/n to respond, not even with a nod, before disappearing into the house.

While he’s gone, Y/n tops off those sleek, stemless wine glasses with the remainder of the chilled Sauvignon Blanc and takes a sip of hers, hoping it’ll help combat the sticky heat that’s surrounding the property. She knows she probably shouldn't have anymore; her head is already fuzzy and there’s that tell tale film over her eyes. The one that makes lights stretch out like shooting stars and makes you feel like you're walking through a dream. Andrew must not be any better either, because he stumbled over all too familiar steps on his way back into the house.

“Got it,” he announces as he returns to the patio, raising the notebook over the head in triumph. Andrew is less than graceful when he retires next to her again, dropping the book into her lap. After a lengthy sip of his wine, he leans back onto his elbows. “It's the last thing in there,” his cheeks heat up, the dusty red colour creeping up his cheeks, towards his ears.

He’s a funny sort of drunk; chatty and able to make a joke of literally anything. He’s flirty too, yet somehow retaining his usual reserve. When they venture to pubs, he’ll flirt his way right into a one night stand without even realizing it, and then slink back to her side, rattling off an excuse involving the words, “ehm, well, she isn’t really my type.”

“Yeah? What is your type?” She’d ask, eyes challenging him.

He’ll look at her for a bit longer than usual, squirting his eyes a little as his waning smile fades completely. “Doesn’t matter,” he’ll eventually say dismissively, covering his words with a swing of his drink before changing the topic.

“Its not finished yet,” he mumbles as Y/n finds the page.

“It looks finished,” Y/n frowns, looking down at the way he’s signed the bottom of the page, the way he usually does after scrawling out the final words.

Andrew shakes his head, “ehm, I mean….the idea. I’m not done with the idea.”

“Oh.” They lapse into easy silence when she starts reading, meticulously scanning every line, barely restraining herself from ghosting her thumb over his hurried, untidy penmanship. Y/n can feel Andrew’s eyes on her as she reads. He's still laid back and propped on one elbow as he steadily sips his wine while she tries to get her hazy mind to comprehend everything on the page.

Its a love song or a profession – or she’s pretty fucking drunk and has lost all ability to to comprehend words.

No, its definitely a confession. A beautifully written one. Of course everything he writes is always much akin to poetry; but with this, every word is strung together like tiny bulbs in a reel of fairy lights. Each one in perfect harmony with the other. They’re carefully chosen, as if just one were missing its entire, delicate balance would be pitched into uncertainty.

“Andrew….” He sits up, draining the last of his wine as she lifts her head from the page.

“Is it bad? The worst fuckin’ thing I’ve ever written?” He chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he flashes her a lopsided smile.

“It's beautiful,” Y/n rasps, suddenly feeling like the air’s been knocked from her chest, or like she’s been running too fast. There’s something besides the night’s oppressive heat surrounding them, something fragile and precious. Part of her wants to say something else, she can see on his face that he’s aching for more, but Y/n is absolutely terrified that if she does, it’ll be the wrong thing and the moment will be shattered into a million little pieces, scattered across the forests behind his house by an unexpected breeze, the way it happened on a night all too similar to this one.

“But?” Andrew is the one that dares to speak, the word uttered softly and with the weight of reproach clinging to its single syllable.

God, what if he’s ruined everything? What if the reason he’s never been able to tell Y/n the way he feels is because a morsel deep within him knows she doesn’t return his feelings. Andrew doesn’t even know if she’s interested in a relationship – or anything adjacent – right now, she doesn’t talk about going on dates and or fancying anyone.

What if the reason she never talks about other men is because she’s somehow gathered how he feels and is trying to protect him from the hurt? That would be awfully cruel, but he supposes it's the kindest thing she can do without ruining their friendship.

“But….” Right before her, in a matter of seconds, a dozen emotions cross Andrew's face and Y/n realizes that, if she’d been in front of a mirror the night he told her he likes hearing her voice before he goes to sleep, this is what she might have seen reflected in it. That cautious hope, with a bit of fear sprinkled in.

Upon realizing that there's no ‘perfect’ thing to say, Y/n hastily leans forward and rests her lips on his, in a chaste, close-mouthed kiss. He’s shocked at first, she can feel it in the way he stiffens. But after another couple breaths spent like that, Andrew wraps an arm around her, flattening his palm on the center of her back. As he relaxes, Y/n deepens the kiss, deserting the book in her lap to cup his face. His beard tickles the inside of her hands, just like she’s always imagined it would, and his tongue and lips are sweet with the wine’s fruity notes.

When they break, faces only inches apart, Andrew lets out a shaking breath while Y/n holds onto hers. “God….I don’t think I would’ve ever done that,” he admits, shoulders rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths.

Sometimes he wishes he had her courage, but most times, he’s glad its hers.

A hint of a smile tugs at her kiss-swollen lips. “I know,” she laughs softly, the sound airy and musical.

Her eyes are twinkling, like two stars plucked from right over the vast bed of darkness hung over their heads. Andrew is certain that no two stars have ever shone brighter, so its fitting that they belong to her – the most dazzling person he knows. Setting his glass down, he lifts his free hand to her cheek, rough pad of his thumb tracing her lips. “I’ve been thinking about it for a damn long time,” he admits. It's hard for him to put a definite number to it, it might as well have been very soon after they met.

“Me too,” Y/n rests her hand over his wrist, offering it an affectionate squeeze.

“I think…..” he trails off, struggling to keep a firm grip on his thoughts. His imagination is running a little wild right now; his mind is already churning out thoughts of his future as it changes shape. It's funny to him how one thing can change everything else.

One kiss, and he swears he’s seeing the rest of his life. Holding it.

“Sshh, we don’t have to talk about it tonight,” Y/n whispers. Talking complicates – they’ve been talking for too damn long anyway, and knowing Andrew, his brain is already three weeks ahead of him. Its sweet actually, because every plan she’s made for her future has been built around him, and now suddenly, he’s doing the same thing. “Lets just….”

“Just what?”

“Do this,” in an instant, Y/n closes the space between them again and seals her lips over Andrew’s. That time, he responds immediately, pulling her against him until the only thing left for her to do is slide her leg over his thighs and shuffle into his lap, pressing her chest to his and draping one arm over his shoulder while she keeps her other against his cheek. The way his beard scratches the area around her mouth makes her smile, and she thinks its something she'll get used to quickly.

All of it is so close to being as commonplace his arm slung around her shoulders and the sound of his voice coming through her phone while there’s a timezone and entire ocean between them. The way his mouth moves against hers, the heat of his hands as they hold onto her waist, the sound of his voice as he says;

“I’m glad you stayed.”

[cheynovak]

Birthday present

Since its my birthday I wrote a little something something. Don't expect too much. It's short quick one shot, felt inspired. It's for all the b-day girlies out there :)

Summary: everyone forgot her birthday, except the one man she expected it to forget.

No warnings this time

Published 7 October

It was your birthday, but it didn’t feel like it. The day had come and gone, and none of the boys had remembered. No one texted. No one even mentioned it. You tried to shake it off, telling yourself it didn’t matter, but as the evening wore on, the silence weighed heavier. You’d spent the night alone, curled up on the couch with a movie you weren’t really watching, waiting for something—anything—to happen.

But nothing did.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, you finally accepted it: They had all forgotten.

Except for one knock.

You nearly ignored it at first, thinking it must be some mistake. But something in the sound—a soft but steady tap—made you drag yourself off the couch. You opened the door, and there stood Ben. Soldier Boy. His jacket was hanging loose on his broad shoulders, hair slightly disheveled, that trademark cocky smirk nowhere to be seen.

"I know it’s late," he started, his voice quieter than usual, "but I didn’t forget."

Your heart skipped a beat. Of all the people you thought might remember, Ben was the last. You stared at him, stunned, as he pulled something from his pocket—a small, simple velvet box. He handed it to you with a shrug, as if it was no big deal.

Inside was a pearl necklace. Old-fashioned, yes. Not something you’d normally wear, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. The fact that he had thought about you, that he had taken the time to find something for you—it made your chest tighten in a way you hadn’t expected.

"You don’t have to wear it," he added quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just figured… well, it’s kinda classic, right?"

You smiled softly, touched by the gesture. "It’s perfect, Ben. Thank you."

For a moment, he looked almost relieved. Then you stepped aside and, without thinking, asked, "Do you want to come in?"

He hesitated. You saw the flicker of Soldier Boy in his eyes, that front he put on for the world, the hardened, untouchable facade. But then it faded, and Ben—the man behind the myth—nodded. "Yeah, sure."

Inside, the atmosphere shifted. There was no bravado, no larger-than-life ego. Just Ben. He sat on the edge of the couch, uncharacteristically quiet, as you poured him a drink. The night stretched on, filled with small talk that gradually became deeper, more real. You started to see him in a new light—not as Soldier Boy, the legend, but as Ben, the man.

And as the hours passed, you realized they were two entirely different people.

That night was the first time you really *saw* him, and perhaps, the first time in a long time you let someone see the real you.

It was strange having this larger than life hero sitting on your couch while you were wearing you pj's, hair in a messy bun, drinking wine and him whisky.

But it felt good. You kept looking at the pearl necklace. "I think no one's ever given me such a beautiful gift."

He stood up took the necklace out of the box and stepped behind you, gestured you to move aside your hair while he put the necklace on.

His hand lingered on your shoulders. His lips close to your ear.

"Happy Birthday Doll."

--

Taglist: @kr804573 @nancymcl@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @whimsyfinny @kamisobsessed @call-me-mrs-winchester @ferrersbiggestfan @yvonneeeee

[forgingtheblade]

DID YOU KNOW THAT MINECRAFT HAS LOOMS???, aka, THE WEAVING WRITEUP

part 1: prep work—did you know how much you have to do before even touching a loom? me either

part 2 part 3

all the way back in october of last year, I was in a weaving class and was tasked with conceptualizing a project for my final using some of the techniques we had been learning through the semester. being the person i am, my immediate first thought was what if i recreated a minecraft banner on a real floor loom? wouldn’t that be fucking cool?

thus was borne what eventually spiraled into this project!

i figured out how wide i wanted it to be, what weight of yarn i wanted to use, and did all of the weaving math to figure out exactly how much yardage i’d need. i took that to a local weaver’s studio who was selling yarn, and came looking for just about any undyed wool she had to offer.

i specifically wanted wool because, well, that’s what the minecraft weavings are made of!

i remember digging through stacks upon stacks of old cones of yarn before finding a couple bags of a caked wool yarn that was, admittedly pretty rough. after using a tool not unlike this one, we figured it was roughly 3000 yards of yarn, and i bought the lot for about 30 bucks.

photo courtesy of Miekle’s Fiber Arts

this thing is so nifty btw, you cut a specific length of yarn and figure out where it balances which is then multiplied by something to figure out the yardage—i’ve only used one this one time, but i think they’re cool!

after getting this yarn came the question of getting the colors i wanted. i’m very lucky to be studying at an institution that grows our own indigo plants, and ferments those plants into our own living indigo vats, so I thought it would be a travesty to not take advantage of the utterly beautiful blues that vat produces.

i divided up my yarns based on how long i needed each of my warp sections to be using a yarn winder measuring to roughly one yard per rotation to make skeins of the right length.

after running some test swatches i figured out how long to dip each skein into the indigo vat for to achieve the colors i wanted, and i wish i knew exactly how i did it but i don’t think i wrote it down anywhere, and its been , yknow, almost a year.

afterwards i had to turn those skeins back into cakes and let me just tell you.

i forgot to use a swift on the first one. i did not forget again.

untangling that first dark blue skein was a multi hour endeavor.

photo courtesy of . an amazon listing

this is a swift and a ball winder. the swift holds the big loop of yarn that is the skein taut and spins freely while you crank the ball winder to make those super orderly and useable cakes. without the swift, trying to wind a cake turns a nice skein of yarn into a nightmare tangle. it was not fun

ALL THAT ASIDE. after successfully detangling and caking my yarn, it was time to wind my warp on a warping board!

a warping board is used to measure out how long your threads running vertically through the loom are going to be. your warp, as it were. because i knew i wanted to weave two banners, and i wanted them to be about a yard long each, plus accounting for tying on to the loom, waste material at the start and end, and leaving a long enough gap between them to create tassels, i started with a three and a half yard long warp. each cross back and forth the board is about a yard of length.

only once i had used the warping board to measure out all 200 threads of width i was putting on the loom was i able to actually start tying the yarn on to the loom and threading it—but this post is already long enough as is, so that will be the next thing I post about!

stay tuned for prepping the loom and weaving the banners :3 here’s a little sneak peek

[defectivevillain]

home where

pairing: Wally Darling/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: You wake up in an unfamiliar place. The only other occupant, a friendly man named Wally, seems to think it’s home. …You disagree.

word count: 1.5k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical derealization

author's notes: I know virtually nothing about Welcome Home and its characters. It seems really cool, but I just didn’t have enough energy to commit myself to another fandom when I first wrote this (and I still feel the same). Maybe I’ll come back to WH and do a deeper dive someday! Who knows. I certainly don’t.

On a related note, I’ve decided I want to do some sort of Halloween oneshot collection this October. I have quite a few drafts for various movies and series that I wrote up a few months ago in preparation for this Halloween… and when I stumbled upon this draft, I realized it would be a great way to kick things off. So yeah! I will admit, without shame, that many (if not all) of the works in this "collection" will be slightly unfinished (aka less detailed than I may want them to be). But I still wanted these fics posted, and I know that they’ll likely just rot in my docs forever otherwise.

Your eyes are stinging. You rub at them roughly, letting out a quiet sigh. It’s been a pretty long day. You stumble through your nighttime routine with a bit less finesse than usual, counting down the seconds until you can collapse into bed. When you finally get back to your room, you move to turn off the lights—only to realize you forgot to close your laptop. The screen’s vividness immediately sears into your eyelids. Blinking tears from your eyes, you close it and head back to your bed to go to sleep. 

Fortunately, you’re tired enough to find sleep rather easily. But even when your eyes slip shut, remnants of that bright light from moments ago burn through your vision. 

When you wake the next morning, sunlight stretches through the gaps in your curtains—illuminating your room in a dim glow. You blink several times to make your eyes feel less dry, before taking a deep breath and pushing yourself up to a sitting position. The bedspread is weirdly scratchy. You look down at it, entirely perplexed when you find a multi-color patchwork quilt instead of your normal comforter. You run a hand along it, trying to rationalize how you could’ve gone to sleep and woken up in a bed with different dressings. 

But your bedspread isn’t the only thing that’s changed—as you glance about the room, you realize that everything looks slightly different. The posters and photos adorning the walls are unusually colorful, and any harsh corners on your furniture have been smoothed over into neat curves. And as your hands investigate the quilt on your bed, you realize that you look strange too. The mirror on the wall casts a familiar reflection, but with softened edges and vivid coloring. Your clothes are far too bright than you remember them being—the same goes for your eyes. 

After a lot of exploring, you come to the unfortunate conclusion that your surroundings are drenched in technicolor. Even more surprising and inexplicable is the unshakeable fact that you’re not dreaming. Several hard pinches to the skin on your forearm cement that unfortunate reality. 

You step outside of your living space, only to find that the surrounding town is just as blindingly bright-colored. Vivid trees in neon colors surround the various buildings. With a churning stomach, you walk through the waving grass and desperately look for a clue to explain your unfamiliar surroundings. Some time later, you’ve explored the entire area—only to yield no new information. 

It’s only when you approach the outskirts of the humble town that you hear a voice. “Where are you going?”

You freeze. For a moment, you contemplate ignoring this new presence; then you realize this may be the only way for you to understand what’s going on. You turn around to find yourself staring at a man with yellow fleece skin and blue hair styled elegantly above his head. He wears a bright blue shirt and multi-colored pants. Looking at him makes your head spin. 

“I’m trying to go home,” you respond, watching as the sidewalk stretches into the distance. You shove your hands in your pockets to quell some of your restless energy. It doesn’t work as well as you’d like. 

“This is Home,” the newcomer frowns. He looks confused but sympathetic.

“My home, I mean,” you clarify. Surely, if this guy is a local, he should know you’re a stranger. You don’t belong here. 

“This is your home,” he insists. For a moment, his voice almost sounds forceful. “Our home!” he then chirps, as if attempting to distract you from his brief slip in composure.

You stare at him for a moment, unable to shake the strange feeling of foreboding running down your spine. “Who are you?” you finally relent and ask. 

“I’m Wally Darling,” he responds. “Who are you?” Wally peers at you curiously. 

You return his gaze, struggling to find an answer to the question. Who… are you? What’s your name? And, most importantly, why are you here?

You try to deflect. “Where is everyone?” you ask, looking around at the quiet town. It feels weirdly empty. There’s almost something… sinister about it: this cute little town, entirely vacant. How can something so colorful be so lifeless?

“They’re sleeping, I think,” Wally responds smoothly, breaking you out of your thoughts. You swear you see his smile falter for a second, but the expression vanishes just as quickly as it appeared. 

Adrenaline courses you at the thought of being trapped in this unfamiliar place with no one but this stranger for company. You try to take another step towards the forest, but it feels as if some invisible force is fighting against you. You’re then shoved backwards, colliding with Wally in the process. 

“Easy there,” he smiles, steadying you with hands on your shoulders. The gesture doesn’t reach his eyes. 

You nod and quickly excuse yourself from the conversation, citing your growing headache as justification. In your defense, you do have a rather painful headache growing to inhabit your temple and stretch through your cheekbones. Wally seems to sense that you’re telling the truth, because he just smiles and bids you good day, after one final remark welcoming you to the neighborhood. You continue to explore the town throughout the remainder of the day, despite the uncanny feeling of eyes on your back. 

As time passes, you start to notice that there’s a friendly sort of malice in the way Wally carries himself. He’s a bundle of contradictions: misery behind a paper-thin smile; glee behind a disparaging frown. He’s always lingering in the corner of your vision: when you’re getting up in the morning; when you’re taking a walk. He tells you virtually nothing about himself, yet he seems eager to learn anything and everything about you. You can’t help but be wary around him. 

But somehow, he wants to be friends with you. Wally’s idea of friendship seems to bleed into something far past platonic, though. He regularly makes remarks about how his life has changed for the better since your arrival; his eyes gleam with something close to envy when you talk about your friends outside this colorful town. You don’t want to overanalyze things, but then you notice the rapt attention he pays you when you speak. Then you notice the freshly trimmed flowers in the vase on your front porch—the one you’ve walked past every day without a second thought. 

Although Wally’s behavior is a bit puzzling, he dominates your thoughts for a different reason. Safe to say, he unnerves you sometimes. And you can’t shake the conviction that he’s hiding things from you. Sometimes he’ll look at the other houses with nostalgia in his eyes; he’ll reference people you’ve never heard of and then clam up when you ask about them. 

He greets you every morning, without fail. The first few times, you smile and wave back. But as time passes and you still can’t find a way out of this place, you start to ignore him. However, this behavior only seems to encourage Wally—as he begins to tag along on your morning walks. 

And it only takes you so long to break. After all, he’s the only other form of human (?) contact in this place. You need to talk to someone about something—anything—and Wally is your only choice. It’s only natural that you stop resisting. Not to mention, Wally is a superb listener. He’s almost too good at it. You get the feeling that he would let you talk for hours, content remaining silent and digesting all the information you give him. You’ve made sure not to reveal too many private details about your life—your real life, outside of this town—but Wally seems to know you anyway. He knows things about you that you’ve never told anyone; sometimes, he even references conversations you think you’ve had with friends over direct messages. 

Ultimately, it doesn’t take you long to come to the conclusion that Wally is the key to leaving this place. You’re not deluded enough to think he’ll let you leave, but you can’t deny that he knows more than he’s letting on. He is far from innocent in this whole affair. He must be pulling the strings from somewhere, somehow. You can only dismiss these thoughts as paranoid for so long, before the dots begin to connect and you’re faced with incontrovertible evidence of his malevolence.  

And while you relented and allowed Wally to join you on your morning walks, you never stepped foot inside his residence or took him up on his offers to spend more time together. 

At least, not until now, when you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Wally’s home with your heart racing in your chest. Despite the dread prickling along your skin, you extend a hand and ring the doorbell. You don’t understand what’s happening here, but you know one thing for certain: Wally is at the center of it. 

The door creaks open ominously. Wally stands in the doorway, an easy smile plastered across his face. You both know it isn’t genuine, and within moments, it starts to melt and slip off his face. A crooked grin shudders over his lips. “Hey, neighbor!” he says brightly. A thick tension descends across the space. A stiff breeze ruffles your clothes and sends chills down your arms. Wally’s dark eyes almost seem to engulf you; there’s a faint ringing sound echoing in your ears. “I’ve been expecting you.”

thanks for reading! <3

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