#someone write the fic thx love

[its-all-papaya]

Hi, I hope you're doing well! I've gone through the majority of your ao3 account and just wanted to say thanks for keeping me entertained through a low day.

I'll be watching out for anything new you post from now on 🤭

Wish you all the best and if you ever want to scream about F1 or life in general, feel free to hit me up!

omg hi !! you're so welcome ! so glad my writing could bring you any kind of joy ! not sure when the next thing will be out tbh but you know where to find it when it is !

thx for visiting my inbox, come again soon <3

[crescenthistory]

your last animagus fic was so sweet! it even made some ideas popped in my mind. i was thinking about feisty (gn) reader being a crow animagus accompanying barty into his mischief, which could be scaring the skittles or pranking people in general. if you could write this, it would be wonderful 💞

(fun fact: crows can mimic sounds such as ambience noise or even human voice, this is so amazing and a bit scary, imagine encounter one while you walk in the woods AAAAAKXNSM!!! i love them so much, thx for reading me yapp xx)

hi lovely<33 thank YOU for yapping to me, i find it very endearing and entertaining 🤲 people who are passionate about what they love>>>>

now, i personally don't think i would be able to write this as a full-length fic, as pranking and mischief is not reallyyyy within my toolbox BUT this is very cute so i'm giving you some belated headcanons 🫂 if anyone's able/willing to write a longer version, please do share with the class and tag me!!

i present to you my thoughts of crow!animagus!reader x barty:

i imagine you become an animagus before you and barty get together

(because if you wanted to do it while the two of you were friends/dating he would INSIST on doing the transformation process with you)

and i think deciding when your relationship is at the point where you can/should divulge that part of yourself would be difficult to pinpoint

so what happens is that you would be laying on the floor beside each other in the astronomy tower, stargazing together. a date of sorts, in the way every second you spend with barty somehow feels like a date as he is fully, wholly dedicated to you.

the later it got, the more you two would switch between genuinely trying to find and remember constellations and just goofing around

those type of late night conversations where you seem to get to know someone 100x more in just a few hours than you otherwise could over the spans of months

asking each other increasingly deep questions

"tell me something about you no one else knows"

when else would you get the perfect opportunity to reveal your animagus status to your boyfriend?

stupidly, you feared his reaction. would he be upset with you hiding it for so long? would he think your animagus form was silly? would he look at you differently?

but when i tell you this man shrieked with excitement

"show me, show me, show me"

when you turn into a crow and fly around him in circles, he genuinely would jump up excitedly and twirl in the same direction you're flying so that his eyes never have to leave your form, laughing and screaming

the only thing on his mind would be how spectacular and remarkable you are, excitement and love filling any space that the hostility you feared might have fostered

not to mention; "that's bloody badass, baby"

you would land carefully on his shoulder and barty would scoop you up close to his body, almost squishing you and making you squeak

"we're gonna have to perfect the art of cuddling with crows," he would say gravely

barty, the secret academic weapon and swot that he is, would SO do his due diligence with research immediately upon the discovery

we're talking library trips, tomes and scrolls purchases, books upon books of muggle literature on crows and wizard literature on animagi that he chases through faster than you could imagine

when he learns of crows being able to mimic noises, including human voices, his mind floods with ideas

"oh, we are going to have fun baby"

that's how you start accompanying him into his many tirades and mischief

most of the time it is just as a companion, the crow sitting on his shoulder as he runs around the castle wreaking havoc

it adds to barty's general intimidating aura and the reputation that just barely proceeds him — the crazy guy with the facial piercings, acid green streaks in his hair, punkish style, chokers and a volatile wand now also has a crow with him everywhere? hell no, people steer clear of him

it doesn't help that many students swear he talks to the crow and seems to hold an entire conversation with it, based solely on its body language and occasional caws

"i swear to bloody merlin, the crow looked at me when i spoke badly of junior. it's like it understood, some human-like capabilities or what not, fucking scary."

it doesn't take long before you become a more active partner in his shenanigans, though

you will call out people's names to get them to enter a room barty needs them in (because let's be real, if barty called for them, nobody would be stupid enough to fall for it and go to him)

you deliver letters and packages for him, you caw behind first years so that they jump in fear, you borrow people's clips and rings and pens

poor regulus and evan get the most shit from you among the skittles, while dorcas finds the most amount of entertainment through it

i imagine it's through your animagus form that the skittles learn that when pandora talks to animals she actually does understand them -> you two have lengthy conversations, much to everyone's eventual chagrin

and while the skittles of course all learn you're an animagus, no one else in the castle does

(though i imagine the marauders have their strong suspicions from early on)

barty was already showering you in gifts — "my father's outrages amounts of money should be put to good" — but now he has taken it upon himself to get you anything and everything shiny he sees

"you're a literal crow and i'm your dutiful partner. i have to contribute to the nest."

(mind you, this would likely be a thing even before he ever sees you seek out something shiny while in animagus form; he just assumes)

ironically, barty starts behaving like a crow himself in how he seeks out shiny trinkets for you

and while you try and tell him you don't have those instincts when outside of your animagus form... you actually really do and you revel in the love and attention

after a while, i do believe he would attempt to become an animagus too

honestly, he would begin getting on your case about it every single day from finding out. same way he would immediately learn his s/o's native language imo — he needs to be included.

especially if regulus is a cat animagus in this universe, because his two favourite people simply cannot have something in common that he is excluded from. this man is the epitome of fomo

my default animagus form for barty is a raccoon, but i think he would also make a lot of fun as a bat animagus which fits perfect with you as a crow

can you imagine, just you two flying around on school grounds and later on in your neighbourhood when you move in together?

the crow and the bat<3(shit crazy boy who loves them)

[hazbinwhoree]

Ok SOO THE NEW EPISODE JUST CAME OUT RIGHT, I was wondering if you could do a part 3 of the Adam x sinner fic where the sinner finds him in the aftermath of the fight and brings him back to their place. And like yk how sir p was redeemed, what if Adam comes back as a demon‼️ u write Adam so well, thx💜 

Adam’s Sinner

Part 3/3

A/N: “Adam is dead” Nuh uh.

When Adam had told her about his plan to attack the Hazbin Hotel, (Name) had told him it was a dangerous idea.

As he lay dying, Adam realized she’d been right. He was alone now, his exorcists having flown back to Heaven and Lucifer and his bitch daughter and her friends had left him to go take stock of the damage the fight had caused. Until suddenly, he wasn’t alone.

(Name)’s face appeared in his line of sight. For a moment he thought he was hallucinating, but he could never imagine the scream of pure agony she let out.

“Adam,” she sobbed, pulling his head into her lap and placing a gentle hand on his cheek. Adam closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen you without your mask,” (Name) realized through her tears. Adam smiled weakly. “Like what you see, babe?” He coughed up blood and (Name) cried harder.

“You can’t die, you can’t, please Adam, please,” she rambled through tears. “I think my fate is sealed. I’m sorry. I love you.” He closed his eyes and completely stilled, his chest no longer rising and falling. “NO!” (Name) screamed. “ADAM!”

She shook him gently but he was gone. Through heavy sobs, (Name) gently put his head back on the ground and threw herself across his body. She lay there crying for a few minutes before kissing Adam’s forehead and rising to her feet.

Adam’s body disappeared in a flash of gold before her eyes. At least she wouldn’t have to bury him.

With a heavy heart and tears still flowing, she made her way back to her apartment. When she opened the door, someone was standing in the middle of the living room.

“Welcome home, sugar tits, did you miss me?”

Adam had two spiral horns protruding from his hair on the top of his head, his wings were black, and he had a tail, but it was Adam. Without a second thought, (Name) rushed him, throwing herself into his arms.

“You’re here,” she cried. “You’re alive!”

“Reincarnated as a demon,” Adam agreed.

“Thank fuck,” (Name) sobbed into his chest. He smiled, holding her tightly. When (Name) pulled back, she looked up at Adam with an indiscernible look. “What?” he asked.

“Your face,” she said softly, reaching up to hold it. Adam melted at her touch. “Your real face. My handsome boy.” Adam blushed. “Shut up.”

(Name) just smiled. Adam leaned down to press his lips to hers. Her lips tasted salty from tears. She ran her fingers through his hair while they kissed.

“I love you,” she breathed when they pulled apart.

“I love you too.”

Adam lifted her up so they were face to face and reconnected their lips. (Name) kissed desperately, like Adam may disappear at any moment. When they finally pulled apart again, they rested their foreheads against one another.

“You’re here,” she whispered. “I’m here,” he confirmed. “Now we can see each other every damn day. Hope you don’t get sick of me.” (Name) hadn’t even thought about that. She laughed happily. “I could never.”

So it turned out that while Adam had reincarnated as his least favorite species, the pros heavily outweigh the cons.

He was happy.

[lynnuvo]

Hi I hope I’m not bothering you but I just finished reading the reenactment fanfics and I was wondering if you’d be open to make one about “Princess and the Frog” or “Mulan” those are the only films that I remember the character having a more “got get it/work for it” attitude and relate a lot to that plus the yans would be interesting to read (to me at least I mean it’s ur writing not mine) anyway thx for the attention hope u have a great day and keep writing awsome fics :>

From 👻 anon

Hello 👻anon! Thank you so much for the touching compliment! I was wondering which fairytale to do next, so I'm glad you suggested either of those. Although it's been a long while since I've watched Princess & The Frog, I'm going to try my hand at that one since I love the story. For those who prefer a male yandere, don't worry! I'm planning on writing another version of this fairytale for you ღ

.·:*¨ ✘- It Takes Two to Tango - ✘ ¨*:·.

Characters: Yan!Charlotte x Female (Y/N) in Tiana's role In which Charlotte intends to take the only desire she can't buy: her best friend

A Tale in the Baking

When you reincarnated into your new world, you were sleeping soundly in bed with a young, blonde girl who wore a frilly dress that scratched your skin. You were pretty confused and somewhat panicked about your predicament: your childlike appearance drastically contrasted from the mature adult life you've been leading. It wasn't until the end of the week that it finally dawned that you were in the middle of the fairytale "The Princess and the Frog."

Your father, James, had passed recently. Your mother, Eudora, shared his dream of owning a restaurant to you several times already as she reminisced her late husband. Of course, you provided as much comfort as you could. Charlotte visited your home every two days, more clingy than you remembered her being in the movie (likely due to the event).

Now, while you weren't aiming to follow exactly in the true protagonist's footsteps, the prospect of owning your own restaurant sparked a fire in your heart. It was ridiculously difficult to try to own even a car in your previous world. However, there was a key difference in that world and the current one: your family was close with the La Bouffs, the wealthy family Charlotte is from.

As you grew older, you became a confident young woman who didn't dare let a soul deceive her in any way. Because your relationship with Charlotte also grew, you vowed to never let anyone deceive her as well. She was veracious and at times ill-mannered, but you knew deep down that she was also naive. You weren't sure of what the true protagonist did outside of what was told in her tale, but it was your story now. So, you defended Charlotte at every corner & convinced her to tell you of any hardships she had--or of anything, really.

Who knew that such actions intended to protect her would ultimately backfire?

Lollygagging

Ever since she was little, Charlotte dreamed of a prince coming to rescue her from trouble. She'd ramble on and on about this dream to you, who listened to her oh so intently. As time passed, this dream took a different turn. She pondered about it often, twisting the idea in her palm left and right while guys fawned over her.

One night, her father came into her room and introduced an opportunity of a lifetime: to marry Prince Naveen of Maldonia. She was ecstatic and agreed right then and there. In that same week, however, she began having second thoughts.

She visited the restaurant you worked at alone soon after. Picking up her sour mood, you took your break early and sat with her at a table, inquiring whatever was the matter. For someone like her to display such an downcast face in public was a rarity. She told you about her worries. Was marrying Naveen the right choice? What if he wasn't as great of a prince as she hoped he would be? What if she wouldn't be happy after all?

After comforting her softly, you chuckled and cheerily reassured her that everything would be well. Marrying him would mean she'd have both her best friend and the prince in her life!

(You were really hoping they'd get married. On top of Charlotte's happiness, the prince would be a great advantage in your career.)

Charlotte left the restaurant with a laugh, but your support left her heart heavier than before.

At the masquerade ball hosted by her father in honor of Naveen's arrival, Charlotte escaped to your side at every chance. As much as you loved her, her constant presence was disrupting the anxiousness you were trying to keep down. The story had already started off on the wrong foot. Where Charlotte was meant to introduce her potential relationship with her father Big Daddy was instead Big Daddy stopping by to eat with one of his clients at your restaurant, sharing the exciting news.

Once Charlotte darted into the kitchen for the eighth time that night with another excuse to talk to you, you gripped her by the shoulders, instructed her to be a good host and tend to her guests, and to not search for you until the night concluded.

Charlotte hated how you pushed away--hated hated HATED it. But still, she'd do it for you. She'd do it because you trusted she'd listen.

In the meantime, you waited in Charlotte's room until a frog jumped onto your balcony. You already knew you were going to be outbid for the mill (just like how it was in the fairytale), so you weren't wasting any time crying over a destined lost investment. When Naveen in his frog form entered the home, you rolled his eyes at his request to help him find a princess and agreed as long as he married Charlotte regardless of whatever was to happen that night. He had no problem with that.

Lucky for you, knowledge from your past life would serve your career well. You told Naveen that because Big Daddy was crowned Mardi Gras king recently, Charlotte would be a princess. All you two needed to do was to wait for the party to end.

Barely Lovely Triangle

As you suspected, Charlotte came running up to you after the ball had concluded. She chided you with tears in her eyes for leaving her alone for so long. You apologized, saying you only wanted the best for her and the Prince and that you being there likely would've prevented any action from her towards him. She begrudgedly agreed before going on to share how wonderful the dance was. She'd never danced like a royal until that day.

You nodded and "uh huh"-ed and dropped compliments as she talked. Once she concluded, you asked her to please listen to what you were about to say. She guessed the matter had to be serious enough for you to possess such a tone, but she hadn't expect an explanation about the frog beside you.

She pointed at him, a corner of her lip lifted in uncertainty. "So he's a prince, the one I was just dancing with was a fake, so I have to kiss that him to bring the prince back?"

You nodded. "Yup. Do you believe me?"

"I....I do. But what's going to happen to the fake one?"

"He'll be exposed in no time. Please, Charlotte? For me?"

Oh, you know she can't resist any request if it's for you.

Naveen, truth be told, transformed right then and there, into a dashing human of royal blood. After talking about you three's lives for a little while, he bid farewell and wished to meet you and Charlotte again soon. Knowing better now, Naveen kept his distance from danger, and low and behold, Lawrence--the man who had disguised as Naveen with the help of an evil talisman--was arrested for fraud.

Surprisingly, that was the start of a friendship trio. You, Charlotte, and Naveen hung out together every now and then in different locations. Of course, you and Charlotte remained closer than ever, but you were relieved to at least have a breath of fresh air. You didn't really have that many friends in city because you were so engrossed in either work or plotting against a destined marriage you didn't want. You were especially glad that Charlotte and even her father weren't keen on getting Charlotte married as soon as possible. Maybe with how things turned out, you no longer needed to worry about the fairytale's plot.

Too bad Naveen eventually falls in love with you anyway.

His proposal came during one of those days where only two of the three in the group were hanging out together. He happened to stop by your restaurant as you finished your shift and offered to walk you home after stopping by another location. You accepted, but you later wished you didn't once the proposal at a beautiful park happened. You rejected him kindly and reminded him that he had a duty to fulfill, and that was marrying your friend. He apologized. You felt bad, but you weren't in love with the guy! Plus, you wanted that restaurant of yours more than anything in that world. No man was going to stop your dream.

You shared what happened the next day to Charlotte at her house. In contrast to the rant you expected from her, she was...eerily calm. She inquired about the person who has your heart, and to that you told her you didn't have anyone. She nodded and recommended you stay away from Naveen for a bit. Men can take rejection quite rough was the summary of her small spiel about men this and men that. And according to her recommendation (even though you were planning to anyway), you didn't pay Naveen's business any mind. He didn't come around as often.

Over the next couple weeks, Charlotte would visit your home more often to hangout. She'd bring up the topic of romance a couple of times, but your answer remained the same: your love was for her and the restaurant you wished to own.

You'd ask about her and the prince every now and then. Her answer was the same: she wasn't as sure about marrying him anymore.

Love is the Secret Ingredient

At last, Naveen's proposal came in the privacy of a beautiful park with a pavilion and crispy lake. He had set up a picnic for Charlotte and him. They chatted as they ate, and once they concluded their afternoon meal, he popped the question.

Although Charlotte had convinced herself for days that she must accept for her dear friend, she just couldn't.

"I'm sorry, but...I don't think I can do this."

To say Naveen was disappointed was an understatement. Not only did the real thief of his heart reject him, but his business partner and friend also did. Charlotte felt guilty, but imaging herself being stolen away from you was a nightmare! And imagining you being stolen from her.....

Without a proposal to the wealthiest family in the city, Naveen was lost. He had arranged the marriage with Big Daddy to combine their influential powers (Big Daddy's wealth & Naveen's royal title despite being casted out by his family). Luckily, you arranged for him to work with you--to start him on the path of someone in your class.

Charlotte, of course, hated it.

She got an earful from Big Daddy for her rejection, but she didn't care. He would soon lose interest in the proposal as well anyway. After all, she was a Daddy's girl, and he wanted her happy.

Charlotte walked you home almost every work day. Her constant attention made you worry for her own health, but she was a ray of sunshine around you. How hurt could she be?

Soon, Naveen stopped showing up to work. The manager told you that Naveen told him he had lost motivation to work and quit. You were stooped, but when you went to visit the hotel he's been staying at since coming to the city, the receptionist shared that he left two night ago.

Charlotte told you that he happened to overhear her talking about a wealthy friend she had in another city. She arranged for him to go meet and live with the friend at his request.

You scowled with a heavy heart. "Wow. He didn't even bother saying anything to me. How shallow."

Charlotte pouted. "Yeah! He dare he! Guess it's just back to us again, huh?"

You smiled. "Yeah. You get me, Charles."

Adoration flowed through her veins. She was worried you might catch some strange aura off of her, but she wasn't lying. The situation was just premeditated. Within a week, Naveen should arrive at the hotel Charlotte had pointed him to just to find out her friend (she gave her a fake name, of course) had already left that hotel present day's tomorrow. There was no way he could afford the trip back to New Orleans. His entire trip to get there was funded by Charlotte herself.

Two months passed before a letter arrived in your mailbox. The mill that you had lost during Charlotte's ball was bought from the previous owner, and the lawyer inquired if you still wanted the property. You didn't waste any time meeting with them. You intended to sign it over to yourself, but the lawyer suggested another property--one that was more spacious and had much more potential. He offered it at the same price, just as long as you took one or the other. You accepted the second option.

Charlotte was elated to see how thrilled you were. Because you used up most of your savings on signing over the new space, she offered to help renovate the place using her money with refusal for objects. She even asked if she could work for you whenever she had time! You couldn't help but be grateful for your dear friend. You were typically too busy for other friendships, but never too busy for Charlotte.

From then on, life was like a fairytale. You worked your butt off at your new restaurant and taught Charlotte the ins and outs of active involvement. She loved it. She loved working with you. She loved watching you negotiate with hagglers and host events to promote the place. Because you were often exhausted by the end of the day, she suggested (quite strongly) that you and your mom move into her home. It was safer that you come home with someone, and her house was so big, you'd have all the privacy you want!

(Don't expect much privacy from her, though).

Suitors weren't a rare occurrence. You became quite a sought after individual as your business grew. But Charlotte knew how you felt and ensured anything causing your stress was taken care of. You tell her everything, after all!

And of course, she tells you (almost) everything. No boy ever became a problem after Naveen. And like always, despite her new insecurities towards being involved in the "working" part of business, no one was to bring her down. For instance, Charlotte overheard an employee of yours discussing her lack of tack to a chef. She mumbled about it to you over dinner, asking if she was a burden to you. The next work day, the employee praised her progress more than twice in one shift.

One night, you both decided to have a sleepover in Charlotte's room. Trying on different dresses and watching movies had tired such pretty girls out. Laying in her bed, you brushed some blonde locks away from her gorgeous face. "You know Charles, these days, I feel like you're my only true friend."

Charlotte giggled and cuddled closer into your arms. "I'll always be silly. Even if the world crashed, we'll have each other to rely on. No one else!"

"You're absolutely right. No one else."

As she drifted off to sleep in your arms, you continued to brush her hair with a smile on your face. Running a restaurant was hard work, but gambling your luck on Charlotte was even harder. It was a relief she didn't reject Naveen due to affections for another guy. As long as you continued to open your arms out to her, you'll be fine, life would be bliss.

[dumb-bitchass]

TALKING about the "Will end someone if you ask him" in the dating HCs what other "unconventional" (=weird asf bc it's Tyler) things would Tyler n reader be into, because he's a lil freak I honestly see him carving his S/O initials into his asscheek or someshit and being like "Babe look what I did <3" and because we're little FREAKS like him and we're allowed to KISS him we'll be like "Omg o-0 💞💞"

Also thank you VERY MUCH for that comfort fic (it's me hehe) and absolutely don't worry if you take a while to do it 💆🫶

(If this is too weird I'm v sorry you don't have to do it, you don't have rules yet so I absolutely have no idea what you do and don't do 😓😓😓)

Tyler Durden x reader unconventional freaky hcs

a/n. this req genuinely made me smile it was a trip to read lmao. i'm pretty umfamiliar with writing this stuff usually it lives in my mind lmao, so i hope it's okay!!! and yayyyy i'm glad you liked the comfort hcs!! i haven't even thought about adding rules yet, thx for the reminder lol 😭

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

•okay guys imma start off strong and say yall have definitely made a blood pact

•no promise rings in sight, only a blood pact <333

•and he would be so enthusiastic about it too, like he loves the idea of being connected to you together through more than just words or a piece of jewelery

•YES he would totally be the guy to carve your initials into his ass, yall are together forever you already know that

•ofc you love this boy, so what do you do upon seeing the initials? initial your own ass with his own <3

•he will love your even longer than forever if you do

•matching lye burns!!!!!!

•hot take but i feel like tyler would maybe probably possibly have a pain kink

•JUST SAYING

•so the lye experience with you would probably be a very "passionate" experience

•yall have def done "it" in the wildest places too, and somehow have never gotten caught, not even suspected

•feel like it'd be pretty realistic if your bedside pictures of eachother weren't just like ":D" but freaky pictures

•the kind you'd put away if you had any guests in your room :)

[lousypotatoes]

Hi I love your korekiyo fic it was sooo cute :3 would you be ok with writing korekiyo/and or Gundam tanaka x reader (gn) who loves monster mythology and reading classic books like Dracula or Frankenstein. Pls & Thx

oh my goodness this is favorite request so far!! I absolutely love old horror classics <33 Enjoy~

Monster Stories Gundham/Korekiyo x G/N! Reader

Gundham Tanaka

Song Recommendation:

Teeth - 5 Seconds Of Summer

This has some suggestive content. Mostly making out but still.

It had been a super exhausting day. You had tests in almost every class, and you had to deal with Hiyoko throwing a temper tantrum, luckily Mahiru was there to calm her down.

Walking into your dorm room, you kicked off your shoes, grabbed your book, and plopped down on your bed.

After about 20 minutes, you heard a knock at the door.

"Come in!" you called out, not taking your eyes off the pages of the book.

The door opened and your boyfriend, Gundham walked in, his scarf and coat swaying behind him.

"What are you reading, my dark monarch?" he asked, sitting on your bed.

"Dracula, by Bram Stroker," you said, leaning into him. "You've probably heard of it."

"Indeed, I have," he said proudly, reading the words on the page. "How did you aquire this book of dark energy?"

"I wouldn't call it dark energy," you chuckled. "Shuichi let me borrow it."

"I didn't know that he had the same kind of 'dark power' as you and I."

"Shuchi's full of surprises, I guess," you said, distracted by the scene in the book. "Jonathan just met the brides,"

"Perhaps my favorite part in the whole book,"

You closed the book, smirking. "Why's that Gundham?"

Gundham blushed, pulling his scarf over his face. "Be-Because my dear, it shows the demon and seductive energy that Dracula's brides have," Gundham said, making you giggle.

"Excuses, excuses," you said, leaning in to kiss him.

Gundham didn't waste anytime kissing you back. Your lips molded perfectly together, his lips rough, but in a comforting way.

His tongue swiped over her your bottom lip, asking for entrance. Giggling, you parted your mouth, and he immediately invaded it with your tongue, exploring every inch. Your tongues intertwining together, you moved your hands to the back of his neck, forcing him closer to you. Gundham moved his hands to your hips, pressing your chest against him.

After a few minutes of making out, you both pulled away from each other, both breathing heavily, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

"Maybe next time I should ask you about your favorite scene in Doctor Sleep," you joked, panting.

"The scene where Rose The Hat and Snakebite Andy make love, my monarch," he growled, nipping at your neck.

"Fair enough," you breathed out, pulling him into another passionate kiss.

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

Korekiyo Shinguji

Song Recommendation:

All Of Me - John Legend

Being The Ultimate Mythologist, you absolutely loved studying myths in your free time. But by far your favorite mythology to study was monster mythology.

You were in the Hope's Peak Academy library, reading books about The Loch Ness Monster, The Minotaur, and other ancient monsters.

As you were reading, you heard footsteps behind you, but assumed it was the librarian. So, you were pretty surprised when someone sat in the chair next to you. You jumped up so suddenly that you almost knocked down one of the books.

"Sorry love," your boyfriend chuckled. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine Kiyo," you said, catching your breath. "I just didn't expect you to be here, that's all."

"What are you reading, dear?" he asked, looking over at the pages.

"Just some monster mythology stuff,"

"What creature are you reading about this time?" he grabbed onto your hand.

"The Minotaur, right now," you said, squeezing his hand.

"Ah, The Cretan Bull," Korekiyo said. "Very interesting, my dear."

"Mhmmm,"

The two of you sat there for the next few moments in silence, reading and enjoying each other's company.

After about ten minutes, you closed the book.

"Finished reading already?" he hummed.

"No, but we should leave," you said, getting up. "I have homework to do, and my textbook's in my dorm."

"Would you like me to accompany you?" Korekiyo asked, also getting up.

"I would like nothing better," you smiled, kissing his cheek.

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i really really REALLY want some double stuffed oreos

and a rootbeer float

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

[sunshinevanfleet]

brat - d. wagner

pairing: danny x reader

a/n: hey y'all!!! i'm back again with another fic. i'm trying to keep up with the writing and avoid some writers' block, so here's another fic. i am hardcore in danny's lane rn, and planned to write some fluff and then ended up with the exact opposite lol. so here's some enemies to lovers, hate-fuck smut with our lovely danny. he's kind of an asshole in this one and it's very sexy so pls enjoy. let me know what u think!! luv you all. (p.s. this is unedited and not proofread so excuse me for any mistakes thx ok bye)

genre: smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), enemies to lovers

word count: 4k

warnings: alcohol consumption, explicit sex scenes, unprotected sex, car sex, danny being an asshole, some light degradation, etc.

“You have got to be fucking with me.” 

You barely noticed the words leaving your lips as you stood by the bar, the plastic cup in your hand crunching as you gripped it. You glanced over your shoulder at your friend; she was still distracted by the hot bartender flirting with her. Nudging her with your shoulder, she finally glanced over.

“No way, is that–”

“It is,” you muttered, shaking your head. “I’m going to fucking murder Josh Kiszka.”

Kara laughed at your words, just as shocked as you were. The bartender was forgotten, still chatting away distractedly as you two stared at the man in the doorway of the bar. The low light obscured him slightly, not to mention the blurriness of your eyes from the couple of drinks you had. But it was him, silhouetted there, all broad-shoulders and dark curly hair framing his face. 

“Daniel Wagner…” Kara shook her head, taking a long swig of her drink in front of her. “Josh totally did that on purpose.”

“You think?”

“I mean, I dunno.” She shrugged. “He knows you hate each other, obviously.”

You sighed heavily. You should’ve called anyone but Josh. You should’ve spent your last ten dollars getting an uber home. It would be worth sacrificing your pretentious cold brew from the coffee shop down the street in the morning in order to avoid riding home with Danny Wagner. 

“This is so fucked.” You turned around to face Kara. Danny was canvassing the crowded bar, obviously searching for you since he had been called to be your savior tonight. “I’m never calling Josh to pick me up again.”

“You should’ve expected this, Y/N,” said Kara. “Josh is always sending someone else to get you. Remember last time? He was taking fireball shots at home with Sam, so he sent Jake…”

“That’s the difference!” you hissed at her, trying not to call attention to yourself. You were beginning to panic. How were you going to survive a twenty minute drive in the car with a man you hated? “It was Jake! He’s not my–my arch nemesis!”

Kara snorted, covering her mouth as she began to laugh. “Your arch nemesis… I can’t with you. Sound like a supervillain,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I’m being serious.”

“You’ll be fine, Y/N,” she waved her hand halfheartedly. “At least he’s hot.”

Your features screwed up into a scowl. It felt like all of your friends were setting you up for this. The two of you never got along; he always had some snarky comment any time you said anything, and the sound of his voice hit the wrong nerve with you. Something about him was just infuriating. But he was a staple in the Kiszkas’ lives, and so were you, so you tolerated each other. Josh, however, was always trying to get you to get along. This was another one of his plots, and you knew it. You were going to strangle him. 

“Oh, shit, I think he’s spotted us,” Kara said, eyes widening. She forced herself to look back towards the bartender, and sipped her drink aggressively. 

You took a deep breath and smoothed your hands over your face. This would definitely be interesting. It took everything in you not to turn around and watch him saunter over, that stupid cocky look playing on his features as he realized the rest of your night was in his hands. There was no doubt in your mind that he was going to make every second a living hell. 

“There you are, sweetheart,” came his voice from behind you. You resisted the urge to scream at the pretentious nickname.

You turned to face him, your face curled into the nastiest smile you could muster. “Daniel,” you said, feigning politeness. “Look who the cat dragged in.”

“Kicking and screaming,” he agreed, nodding his head. You eyed him for a second. His hair was pulled back messily, stray curls fanning his forehead and cheeks. He wore a black muscle tee and a pair of gray sweatpants that were hanging dangerously low on his hips. He must’ve been in bed when Josh called him. 

“Where’s Josh?” you asked bluntly. Your two-second show of getting along was over. He was the last person you wanted to be face-to-face with right now. 

“Incapacitated,” said Danny. “You know how he loves a good Friday night drinking game.”

“And you weren’t playing?”

“Nope,” he continued, “I was all cozy in my bed, going to sleep early. Then Josh calls me to come rescue the princess, so here I am.” 

You rolled your eyes. With a huff, you decided not to push the subject any further. If you ignored him, maybe the next half hour would go by in a flash. Next time, you’d be calling your Mom before you called Josh to come pick you up. Unreliable little shit.

“Let’s get this shit over with,” you said under your breath.

Standing from the bar, you grabbed your purse and slung it over your shoulder. You shoved your phone inside, and said a quick goodbye to Kara. She smiled sweetly at the both of you as you left. Danny led you out into the warm night air, where his car was waiting. 

“Don’t look so miserable, sweetheart,” he said, a twinge of amusement in his voice.

“Oh, shut up,” you muttered, tone laced with venom. You had never met anyone with such a smackable demeanor, someone so hell-bent on pestering you until you broke. 

“What? Not happy to see me?”

You wrinkled your nose. Ducking into his car, you dropped your bag on the floor and kicked off your heels. In the back of your mind, you wished you drank a little more before you left. Danny’s presence was a wonderfully effective buzzkill. 

“Well, don’t get your panties in a twist. You don’t have to see me for too long,” he said, grinning.

“My panties are perfectly untwisted,” you said haughtily. “Can you just shut up for the next twenty minutes? It’d make my life a lot easier.”

He laughed. “I’m not here to make your life easier.”

“Believe me, I’ve noticed.”

You could feel the smugness radiating off of him as he pulled away from the bar. You wished you could hitch a ride with Kara, but you knew her boyfriend was picking her up and they would be nearly as insufferable as this car ride with Danny. It was quiet for a moment, but you knew he would be back to bugging you any minute now. You merely hoped you didn’t explode once it started. 

He reached between you, flicking the radio on to kill the silence between you. The station was set to something hard-rock. The drums and guitar blaring through the speakers were really starting to worsen the headache threatening to come on.

“Can you turn that off, please?” you asked, glaring at him.

“No, I like this song,” Danny said, reaching over to increase the volume.

Your face flushed with anger. 

“I have a headache, Daniel,” you said bitterly. “At least turn it down.”

But he was steadily cranking the volume up, up, up. The grin on his face was only widening. Your head pounded, both from the drinks and the immeasurable rage coursing through you. 

“What?” he shouted. “I can’t hear you!”

You half-groaned, half-screamed, and reached over to pull his hand away from the volume. You knew you looked like a crazy person, and you didn’t care. He laughed as you pushed his hand away from the radio. You muted it without a second thought. 

“My head is fucking pounding,” you hissed at him. “Asshole.”

“Oh I’m an asshole,” he added, chuckling. “That’s rich, coming from such a brat.”

You glanced over, and met his gaze briefly before he looked away. His eyes were dark, and slightly hooded with sleep. He really must’ve been sleeping.  Your heart thundered in your chest. If you weren’t so pissed off, you might have noticed the butterflies blooming in your stomach and spreading down between your legs. There was no way that Danny Wagner insulting you was turning you on. You ignored the feeling, twisting one leg over the other and flopping back against the seat. 

“You are an asshole,” you said.

“I am a perfectly nice guy.”

You snorted. “You’re fucking delusional.”

“You know it. You just don’t want to admit that you’re the instigator in this relationship,” Danny said.

“Instigator? Which one of us is constantly, intentionally, pissing the other one off?” You raised your eyebrows expectantly at him.

He grinned at you, shrugging. “Which one of us is constantly getting so worked up over absolutely nothing?”

“I’m going to ignore you, now,” you stated. You turned away from him, staring off into the distance as he drove you home. You couldn’t stand looking into those intense eyes any longer. Your thighs were clenched together so hard that they were beginning to shake. It was about time you got the hell out of this car, before shit got out of hand.

“Looks like I’m right,” he continued. “Poor little brat knows I’m right, huh?”

Brat… The word made you squirm in your seat, the brief throbbing in your core making you swallow hard. He was going to be the death of you, the gorgeous shithead sitting in the seat beside you. God, you hated how easily he could push your buttons in all the right ways. You hated to admit it, but underneath all of the outward animosity, there had always been some serious sexual tension. 

“I must be really getting under your skin, huh sweetheart?” 

There it was again, another one of his condescending nicknames. It felt wrong to say you were almost enjoying this. You squirmed slightly again, trying to avoid his attention. The sound of your pulse thundered in your ears. In the back of your mind, you wondered if he could tell. 

“I hate you,” you muttered. Your voice was hoarse, and so quiet it was barely audible between you. You were afraid if you spoke any louder that the shake in your voice would give it all away. 

“Doesn’t seem that way,” said Danny smugly. His car came to a stop at a redlight, and you turned to glance at him. He was looking at you, almost hungrily. He looked you up and down, shaking his head as the light finally turned green and he pulled off. “Can’t sit still over there, can you?”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Don’t act all clueless,” he chuckled. “I see you over there, squirming and writhing…” His eyes flicked down to your legs twisted together. Your skirt had ridden dangerously high up your thighs, almost enough so that your panties would be exposed shortly. 

“I am not,” you hissed, uncrossing your legs and pulling your skirt down. Your face flushed red, and you prayed he couldn’t see it in the dim light. 

“Are too,” his voice was tinged with amusement. “Bet that little pussy’s just throbbing when I call you brat.” 

His words sent a jolt up your spine, and you knew he could see your red face now. Your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. He laughed darkly at this.

“You know I’m right.”

You swallowed the planet-sized lump in your throat, trying to figure out how to breathe again. What the fuck were you supposed to say to that? 

“I– Danny, what–” You were lost for words. You couldn’t take your eyes off him as you rode the last two minutes to your house. He seemed to be completely focused on the road, not paying you any mind as you sat there in complete shock. What the fuck was going on?

The car came to a stop in your driveway with a jolt. There was a short pause, where the two of you just stared at each other for a moment. Then, without a word, Danny leaned his seat back, and you caught the hint.

You climbed across the center console and straddled him with all the ease of a professional. He leaned up and caught your lips in a heated kiss. It was hot, and messy– all lips and teeth gnashing and saliva everywhere. His hands had fallen to your ass, bunching your skirt up around your hips and kneading the fleshy skin. Your own were tangled in his curls, pulling more hair loose from his bun as you pushed him down against the seat.

“God, you’re fucking soaked,” he groaned against your mouth. One of his fingers teased along your panties as he squeezed your ass. There was barely any friction, but still you sighed heavily. 

“Fuck,” you hissed as he dragged the finger up and down the fabric again, teasing you through your underwear. You ground your hips down against him, trying to get some kind of relief. 

“What got you this wet for me, sweetheart? Hmm?” His lips traveled down your neck, sucking the skin hard as he left bruises behind. You rutted your hips against him again, desperately as he continued teasing you. “This sweet little pussy loves it when I call you my brat, huh?”

His deep, silky voice sent a jolt through your body. You needed him so bad. To touch you, to taste you, to fuck you. Anything at this point. You couldn’t take the sound of him teasing you anymore. You needed him to destroy you.

“Fuck, Danny, stop teasing me, please,” you hissed through clenched teeth. Two of his long fingers swept past your panties and swirled against your soaking wet core. Your eyes almost rolled back into your head at the feeling of it. 

“Teasing you is the best part,” he said breathily. His lips skirted across your collarbones, nipping harshly at the skin. You were going to be fifty shades of purple come the morning, but you didn’t care. You wanted his mouth–his teeth– on you, everywhere. 

You grunted, swirling your clothed center against his bulge and fingers again. It was almost pure bliss, having two of his fingers prodding your entrance and his clothed bulge dragging against your clit. You knew you could cum like this, but you wanted him, all of him desperately. 

His fingers finally pushed into your soaked cunt, and you moaned loudly. Your face flushed with embarrassment; it had been so long since you’d been fucked properly. The desperation in your movements made you feel something like a virgin again. You didn’t have time to worry about what Danny would think– his free hand had snaked up your body to wrap around your throat.

You gasped, throwing your head back as his fingers sank into you to the base. 

“You like that? You like my fingers stretching that little cunt open?”

You nodded, clenching around him as he slowly began to thrust them in and out of you. He curled them slightly, the pads of his fingers grazing your sweet spot deliciously.

“Use your words, brat.”

“Y–yes, Danny, I–” a moan broke through as he curled his fingers more harshly, driving them into your g-spot. “Fuck, I love it.”

“Oh, you love it?” he asked, his voice amused. “C’mon, ride my fingers, then.”

You obeyed instantly, lifting yourself up and rolling your hips against his fingers. Your entire body seized as his fingers hit that spot over and over again. Your eyes were screwed shut, bottom lip tugged between your teeth as he held you up by the throat and let you fuck yourself on his fingers. Pleasure coursed through your veins; you were sure he was the best lay of your life, and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. Stars bloomed in your vision, and your legs began to tremble.

He breathed sharply as your walls clenched tightly around his fingers. “Feels so good, doesn’t it sweetheart? You’re so close to cumming all over my hand, aren’t you? Yeah, that tight little pussy’s gonna cream all over my fingers, isn’t it?”

You whimpered at his words. You forced your eyes open and glanced down at him, and you nearly came at the sight. His lips were raw and swollen from his assault on your neck; sweat glistened on his forehead and cheeks, his curls plastered to the skin as he watched you with black eyes. His expression dripped with pure filth– no one had ever looked at you this way. You leaned down into him, pressing your open mouth against his. You breathed his air, tasting his breath and sucking it into your lungs as if it were your own lifeforce. Your tongue darted into his mouth; you throbbed at the wet, lewd sounds emerging from the two of your mouths together. It was disgusting, and you were loving every second of it. 

Chest heaving, you began to grind yourself down onto his digits, hard. You vision began to go black.

“Danny, oh my god, Danny,” you breathed, rocking against him. “I’m gonna cum, fuck me, I can’t hold on…” You were practically screaming, hoping that his car was muffling the sound of your shrill moans from the outside world.

“No, no, not yet, sweetheart…”

Your heart dropped as he dropped his hand from your throat, and grabbed you around the waist. You gasped as he pulled his soaked fingers out of you, your cunt clenching around nothing as he laughed darkly. 

“Danny, what the fuck–”

He grinned. “Relax, Y/N,” he said, amused. 

“But I was so fucking close,” you groaned, squirming above him as he watched you. Without saying anything, he brought his slick fingers up to your mouth and held them in front of you. You stared at him for a second, before he reached his other hand up and tapped you on the chin with his thumb. Opening your mouth, you allowed him to insert his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself. He groaned at the sight; you felt his cock twitch underneath you, straining against his sweatpants. You rolled your hips against him, and he bit down on his lip with a grunt.

“You’re gonna cum all over my cock, okay? Gonna be my good girl and ride me,” he said, watching as you nodded, bobbing your lips over his fingers. You swirled your tongue around his digits hungrily, your eyes widening as you watched him pull down the waistband of his pants. His cock slapped against his abdomen. You knew from feeling it that it was bigger than average, but you never would have expected this from Danny Wagner.

“Fuck, where have you been hiding that thing?” you muttered, incredulous. 

Danny laughed, taking his saliva soaked hand and wrapping it around his shaft. The tip was slightly purple, leaking shining clear precum. He spread your spit and juices over himself, groaning thickly. 

“Let me,” you replaced his hand with your own, swiping your thumb over the tip. He grunted, closing his eyes and leaning back against the seat. You leaned forward, letting a string of saliva drip from your mouth down to his cock. You bobbed your fist up and down over him, feeling his thighs twitch as you teased him.

“Enough,” he groaned thickly, his voice deep with arousal as he reached forward to grab your wrist. “Sit on it. Now.” He commanded.

“Yes, sir,” you said snarkily, lifting yourself up and positioning your hole over the tip. You dragged the tip through your folds for a moment, soaking it in your arousal. The two of you moaned in unison, and a deep breathy groan spilled from his lips as you finally sank down onto him.

You squeezed your eyes shut at the stretch of his cock; it felt as if you were being split in half in the best way possible. 

“Holy fuck,” you panted, rolling your hips slowly against him. You didn’t know how you were going to take him for very long. Your legs trembled on either side of his, and you could barely lift yourself above him.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Danny grasped your chin as you stared down at him. “Need some help, baby? Need help riding my big cock?”

You nodded, “Yes, please. I can take it, please.” One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, and the other grasped his shoulder. Your nails dug into his skin as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He lifted you off of him a bit, and began to drill into you from beneath you.

You pressed your forehead against his, your mouth open in a silent scream. You couldn’t think as he set a relentless pace, barrelling into your swollen hole without abandon. Your thighs quivered and began to shake; if it weren’t for him holding you up, you would have collapsed on top of him. He was so deep, abusing your pussy as tears of sheer pleasure clouded your vision. 

You felt his hips stutter beneath you, and you moved your hand from his shoulder, to his throat. “Don’t fucking stop,” you moaned, your voice cracking. “If you stop, I’ll kill you.”

He laughed throatily, his breath fanning over your face. “Oh, if I had the willpower to torture you with my cock right now, I promise you I would, sweetheart. But I’ve gotta cum in this pussy, now.”

Tears swept down your cheeks as he maintained his rhythm. Sweat poured down your face, and mingled with the dampness of your tears. You squeezed your eyes closed, your entire body shaking as you approached your release. 

"Poor little pitiful thing..." he muttered. "I love seeing you cry over my cock. Feels good, huh baby? Splitting you open like that..."

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, I’m cumming, Danny– Oh, motherfuck–” Your voice was cut off by the heaving breaths breaking from your throat. Your cunt tightened around Danny’s thick length, squeezing deliciously as he fucked you straight through your orgasm. Your entire mind was blank, your vision cloudy as you slumped against him. But he wasn’t done with you; his pace was more relentless than ever as he chased his own high. You used the last of your energy to meet his thrusting, pushing him closer to the edge.

“Almost there,” he whispered, his features twisted in focus as you fucked down onto him. You rocked your hips, swirling around on his cock. His mouth fell open, and his features screwed up in pleasure. A strangled moan fell from his lips, and you felt his hot cum shooting inside of you, staining your walls. He came with a deep groan of your name, and you throbbed around him. 

You whimpered at the feeling of him pulling out of you, his strong arms still holding you above him. Gently, he released your waist, and you slumped down onto his chest. The two of you were covered in sweat, sticky and smelling distinctly of arousal. Around you, the windows of his car had fogged up enough that you could barely see out of them.

“You okay?” Danny asked quietly as you rolled back into your own seat, pressing your back against the door. You were still panting, your skirt hitched up around your hips. Your panties had been ripped to shreds in the process, threads dangling from your thighs. Absent-mindedly, you struggled to remove them.

“I’m good,” you nodded, taking a deep breath as you tried your best to fix your appearance. 

“Didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said, sounding almost sorry.

“It was a good cry.” A laugh fell from your lips, and you were glad to see him smile. A real smile this time. Not the shit-eating grin you were used to. 

“Want me to walk you up?” He nodded towards the door to your house, slowly becoming visible through the fogged up windows. 

You nodded. “Sure,” you said. “Think I might need you to carry me after that.”

“I can manage that. If you can do me one favor in the morning…”

“And what would that be?”

“Tell Josh I said thanks for calling me,” he said cheekily.

“Oh, shut up,” you reached over and smacked him on the chest, then shook your head as he ducked out of the car. What were you going to do with him?

[ynbabe]

Heyyy, so I recently read ‘bloody red’ and i love the story! I love the lore of it and i like reading about supernatural stuff. Just a question, are all drivers in the fic vampires or are there some drivers that aren’t vampires??

Also, can you make headcanons about some of the that are vampires?? If that’s okay with you. Thx

-🥬

Thank you so muchhhh!! Here's the list of the vamps in the AU and how they turned:

Charles- 25 at a club by *REDACTED*

Lewis- 28 by Nico when he got into Mercedes with him in 2013

Nico- Born Vampire

Carlos- Paid someone to turn him after he found out Charles was turned to ensure he didn't have an undue advantage.

Fernando- He's simply been around forever

George- Turned by Lewis because long-haired George is eerily similar to Nico and Lewis was in his feels (bro got hungry)

Logan- Turned by George when they were wallowing in pity together (the how is up to ur imagination 🤭)

Nico H- Turned sometime in the 90's

I plan on making a detailed hc post a lil later, also I'm also planning to write this as a ship fic on Ao3 without a reader, would y'all be interested in that?

Thank u 🥬 anon for the ask!!!

[sorinethemastermind]

Hi, so I just saw your post about the "Review Fic-athon". First of all I love this idea and just wanted to thank you for doing something like this for this series. Fingers crossed for Act 3🍀

I posted reviews for all seven seasons of TDP on Rotten Tomatoes under the username "FL Z".

I've never participated in something like this so I don't know how specific or not I should be. So obviously it's completely up to you but could you maybe write something about when Claudia is fighting Callum (maybe Runaan takes a second longer to intervene or something) preferably after/during the fight in Akiyu's cave? With her thinking about/contemplate what could've been.

Basically angsty Claudium from Claudia's perspective at some point in Act 2.

(No shade to Terry but I adore angsty Claudium)

Sorry for the rambling. Also again I love the idea for this to help the series. Have a wonderful day.

(Sidenote I love the reference to Soren's "Hungry horses need hay" line)

[sorry for the delay in response, I've got so many fandom events going but finally starting to chill out with my writing load 😩 so here's your angst, as requested! Love me some angst Claudium vibes. Thx so much for participating, this was a lot of fun to work on. Hope you enjoy!]

"Oh Callum, I was hiding. But not for the reason you think," Claudia watched them from the shadows. Callum and that elf. The very one who had killed his father. Had he already forgotten everything they'd done to them?

"Oh, is it because you've done something terrible? Because you're afraid to face the consequences?" Callum said, the last word nearly a snarl. He had always been so judgy.

Claudia stepped forwards, letting the shadows fall away from her form. "No. It's because I didn't wanna have to kill you, too."

They turned on her, the elf's bow already raised, and she lifted her staff.

"Petra volarai!" the chunk of stone rose behind them, perfectly positioned to strike, but she hesitated. Claudia stared into Callum's eyes, searching them for any sign of the boy who used to trail her around the castle, asking about magic and sharing books. But his green eyes were narrowed, judging, like they always were.

He thought she was gone, just like all the others. He couldn't see that she was still her.

She closed her fist, sending the chunk of stone flying at him. But her moment of hesitation had bought the assassin enough time to notice and he turned, lunging to push Callum out of the way, the chunk of stone smashing into him instead of it's target.

He grunted, falling to the ground, and Callum gasped, rushing to his side. So loyal to the very man who had killed his father. His loyalties were so misplaced. Claudia knew he would choose his father's killer over her in a moment and didn't let herself hesitate again.

Her next casting was quicker, Callum hardly able to get his staff up in time to summon ice and quench the wall of fire she had sent roaring at them both. The puff of steam from the two elements meeting exploded across the room and she averted her gaze momentarily, raising her staff again as soon as she could see, the next spell already on her lips.

"Fulger hostil!" the violet lightning sparked from her fingers and shot at Callum, but he deflected it with a swing of his staff. He was getting better. She could only imagine what he might be able to accomplish if he wasn't so stubbornly stuck on Primal Magic. If he had a real teacher.

She would have taught him, if he'd asked her too. It would have been nice, having someone to practice with besides her Dad, who was always too busy. Claudia's eyes narrowed. Her Dad, who that elf of his had killed.

She couldn't let herself get soft. Wishing wouldn't change what had happened. Wouldn't change who Callum had become.

He raised his fist as she watched, clenching it tight as he shouted out a pair of unfamiliar words; "Venus frigoris!"

Pain shot through Claudia's hand and up her arm, the skin turning blue. She bit back a cry of pain as the sensation spread across her body, hunching in on herself. Her veins burned with a cold fire, contracting and expanding, sending needles of agony shooting through her flesh.

She fell to her knees with a half sob, one hand desperately clutching her staff. Claudia had known Callum had changed, but she hadn't thought-

Anger burst through her. She was only doing what she had to, first for her Dad, and now for Aaravos. But Callum didn't need to do any of this. She remembered telling Soren that Callum would never hurt her, that night after their date. She'd been so afraid of upsetting him, of betraying him.

And here he was, hurting her without remorse, with no sorrow in those piercing green eyes. They acted like she was the one who had changed, and yet it was them who were different. Soren who had left her, Callum who had betrayed her. Who was hurting her.

She didn't owe him any remorse, either.

Forcing body to obey and her fingers to move, Claudia took the pufferbat from her belt and crushed it between her fingers, the purple veins of the spell floating through the air and into the dark core of her staff.

Callum's hand went to his throat as the air was pulled forcibly from his lungs and she felt the spell's pain fade from her body, the bluish tint to her skin retreating back to palid grey. She straightened up, eyes narrowing.

"You're impressive, Callum," she admitted. "Somehow you learned Primal Magic. But Dark Magic will always have the edge."

"Please... Claudia-" Callum fell forward, eyelids fluttering as the air continued to funnel from his lungs and into her staff. It... hurt to see him like this. But Claudia took the pain and crushed it the same way she had the pufferbat.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked, taking a step forward. She knelt before him. "Come on, Callum, I don't hate you. I don't want you dead! But you're leaving me no choice." Her voice wavered on the last word, and for a moment she thought that, maybe, he might give her a way out. A way forward where no one else had to get hurt.

But then the elf's voice sounded from her periphery, and she turned to find him with his bow drawn, arrow nocked and pointed in her direction. "Don't move."

She rose to her feet as the elf walked around to stand beside Callum, arrow never wavering from where it pointed at her heart.

"Now drop the staff," he instructed. "Throw it out of reach."

"I mean, how am I supposed to throw the staff without moving?" Claudia asked, tilting her head. "You said don't move."

Callum collapsed at her feet, gasping. She spared him a glance, hand tightening around the staff. She'd meant what she said. She didn't want to kill him. She didn't want any of this to happen. She didn't have a choice. She'd never had a choice. Why didn't they ever give her a choice?

"Do it now!" the elf shouted, drawing back the arrow.

Claudia smiled, narrowing her eyes, and dropped the staff into the pool of water beside her. It landed with a splash and Callum's head jerked up as the spell ended. He gulped in air.

"Now what?" Claudia asked, same smile playing across her lips.

"Now," the elf said, "we wait for Callum to catch his breath. And then he will decide whether you live or die."

For a moment she considered letting him choose. They never gave her a choice, anyway. And Callum wouldn't-

But the affects of the ice spell were too fresh, the memory of the pain fresh across her skin. She didn't know. Maybe he would. Now that he'd changed.

Her eyes narrowed. Maybe he would kill her. Now that he thought she was some kind of monster.

Her gaze went to the amulet hanging around her neck. She knew who didn't think she was a monster. She smiled at the elf and watched his eyes widen in alarm. She clutched the amulet as he released the arrow, eyes glowing violet as the spell took hold. The arrow turned to ashes as it reached her, charred by the bright light the talisman was emanating.

She spoke the command words, closing her eyes as the warmth washed over her entire body, covering her skin with the scales of a dragon. More of them stretched up her throat and framed her face, stretching across her cheeks.

If they thought she was a monster then fine, she'd be their monster.

Claudia threw her head back, feeling the warmth gather in her chest and flare across her skin. Her hair swayed around her face as though in an invisible breeze, vision flaring as her eyes once again glowed violet. The warmth spread from her chest and up her throat, exiting her mouth in a torrent of flame.

Callum pushed himself to his feet just in time to call a wave of water and block the worst of it, steam once again filling the room. Claudia took advantage of the moment to turn and flee, vanishing into the shadows once more. She threw one final glance over her shoulder as the fog began to clear.

She Callum he was okay, not too singed. She would be their monster, if that's what they wanted. But that didn't make her a real monster. She didn't wish him dead. Not when she could still remember the moonlight reflecting in his eyes that night at the Nexus, or the wonder in his them she'd seen every time he saw her cast a spell.

Before the green eyes grew cold towards her and warm towards that elf of his. Before he chose the man who killed his father over the ones who'd tried to save him.

Claudia turned away, leathery wings sprouting from her back as she emerged into the open once again. She had work to do. She couldn't let what might have been distract her.

[lowkeyren]

Hi there! I hope you're having a great day. I saw someone else do this, though I can't remember who but,

Tag your favorite author(s) and share which fic or line from their writing you love the most.

Feel free to ignore if you don't want to do it! Love you 💗

hol' up lemme cook (sorry for the tag!!)

“do you want to die?” he angrily counters and you click your tongue. “if it isn’t by your hands, no, no i don’t.” moze hated how you made his ears ring with such simple words. to bystanders –outsiders of your relationship– they would be concerned, but to moze, it was a declaration of the highest affection.  “then don’t die now,” he mutters. “your life is mine to take.” “not if i take yours first.”

@vxnuslogy : hate is a strong word.

ily vee please don't die i genuinely cant get enough of ur writing!!!!! therapy can't save me anymore, only vxnuslogy's fics can. (atp ill tattoo your mlist onto my body so ill never forget the url)

“This can’t be how your story ends." Your fist balls up the fabric of your pants in its grip. “Locked away, isolated from the rest of the world - that can’t be what you want. It is too cruel a fate for you.” For you, who loved humanity so deeply.

@milksnake-tea : say you still dare to dream.

+ the entire otosom series. thx for the posture check you saved me from scoliosis cus you never fail to have me sit up on my chair whenever you post. THE sunday writer EVER ong (defo the first author that comes to my mind when sm1 asks for sunday fic recs)

“This is unreasonable,” he starts. “Not for me, it isn’t,” you say softly. “If it’s for you, nothing is unreasonable.” His voice raises, trembling upon its crumbling pedestal, panic seeping into every word. “I don’t deserve that kindness - that mercy. I am a sinner, I am a traitor, I am-” “You are a man worth saving.”

You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love. It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night.  Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. 

@earthtooz : distance.

i think you shld know that i (re)read your fics religiously. 10/10 humor and ur portrayal of characters >> spot on honestly, another author whose fics r must-reads!!!

“don’t look at me like that.” you wished he wouldn’t look at you in that way; something tugs at your heart and suffocates you. “like what?” “i don’t know.” hesitation follows your tone, broken and unsure, seemingly lost in an empty field full of directions. “like…” like you wanted me like a lover, you keep the words at your throat knowing you’ll choke on it one day. you don’t know how to say it, you don’t even know if you can say it. it was as if the ability to speak has been taken away from you.

@azullumi : i wanna be yours.

always gotta lay on my bed when reading your fics cus how else am i supposed to giggle and kick my feet :((( no sitting on a chair isn't enough i need to roll around to satisfy my excitement.

but the comfort and warmth of his touch lingered on your skin—and you’ll remember it all; it will haunt you, follow your shadow everywhere you go, pulling on the hem of your shirt with the desperation of a dying man and you don’t know how to live knowing the way he held you on this night. how are you supposed to deal with the fact that his hands were as soft and warm as summer?

“still with the formalities... surely now you can address me by my name, can you?” jiaoqiu coaxes, like saying it might wash away all the fatigue in the world, because every inch of his being, from the tips of his ears to the veins in his heart and the wisps of his soul, his yearning and pining echoes and resounds in the cavity of his chest that holds only you, you, you. what, jiaoqiu wonders, would it take for him to be the sole beholder of your brilliance? his hands holding yours, gripping faithfully and unfalteringly, your fates bound by knots; crimson in nature, entwined forevermore? his eyes soften because of course they do—for you mold him into a being devoted to commemorating your existence into his flesh, your voice settling in the marrow of his bones.

@iceunhie : art of the fan.

#1 author to read fics of that'll GUARANTEE leave ur mouth agape btw. if you die without reading a fic from mhie WHAT WERE YOU DOING, YOU MISSED OUT BIG TIME BFRRR.

A soft grunt cannot be prevented when he finally, finally feels your touch staggering into a bundle of nerves on his wings. He feels you trace the sensitive flesh and soft feathers with delicacy, following a clumsy pattern down the bone then the ridge of his vertebrae like you’re counting the columns of his spine. His heart is at war with himself, hammering and loud in his ears as he becomes hyper fixated with your touch, he just had to be selfish a bit.

@luvether : his anatomy.

GUYS press 1 if you're addicted to this author's fics. (1)

your godsent works are like daily doses of dopamine. i legit devour ur fics up like who needs drugs when you have luvether!!!!!

Sunday had come so far to know you that he remembers how much you favor staying in a routine, a pattern. Your kisses fall similar to your paradigm, for you had traced your lips down the lines of his spine, sending sparks of electricity through his arteries.

there’s a glint of mischief in your eyes, a wolfish grin tugging on your lips. you dip your head, murmuring something into his ear just as stelle had done to you earlier. what leaves your lips is an apology. but what for? he — — you kiss him. his ears ring. faintly, he can feel several pairs of eyes boring into him, into you, and into what seemed to be a lingering kiss. yet all he can wrap his mind around is the tip of your nose against his skin, your warm breath fanning over his cheek. it is not a kiss. it is not a kiss. “sorry guys,” you declare, twirling back to face the group of researchers. they stare at you, stunned silent. you don’t mind a bit, your smile only brightening. “but he’s taken.”

@synqiri : today is yesterday's tomorrow.

so much to say sighs. but for this fic in particular (that has stuck w me ever since u posted it), the slowburn IS slowburning in a way that's like eating the least favourite food on ur dish and finally savouring ur favourite part for last ykwim??? EXCEPTIONAL WORK.

Boothill beams and it just serves to confuse your internal scale even more. One would think you’re suddenly inorganic with how it feels like you’re short-circuiting. Is this an acute onset of cardiac arrest? Or is it something else you’ve been pushing away for months on end? He nudges you back. “I knew you’d come around! And the first lesson of being a Galaxy Ranger,” he starts, “is to always get your hopes up.” Yeah… it’s definitely something else entirely. Something that, in all likelihood, is going to get you into massive trouble. You understand the risks that come with fraternizing with an outlaw, have weighed them heavily against your heart, and have reached only one verdict: You’ll sleep on it.

@tragedy-of-commons : call to action.

everyday i wake up with a headache because it physically HURTS me to see how underrated you are. ILL DO IT IF I HAVE TO SET UP A SHRINE IN YOUR HONOUR. ily gwennie pls never stop writing.

You would rather that the Xianzhou citizens know him as "The Dozing General" instead of the general that gets scammed a few times too many. How does one even go on about trying to tell their husband that the grimalkin in his arms is actually a lion? "A fitting name indeed," you mutter, raising a hand to caress Jing Yuan's cheek, a simple gesture to make the general direct his attention to you. However, you could still see that his guard was slightly up with you. You only chuckle at that, leaning in to slide your lips over his own, Jing Yuan wasting no time to press back. Another well hidden secret reserved for the walls of the Divine Foresight is the fact your husband is incredibly weak for his own spouse.

@generalsmemories : how do i tell my husband he got scammed into buying a lion.

^ who i go to when i'm deprived and in need of jing yuan content. literally one of my biggest inspos for writing, jy just feels so real in your fics. fr has me licking my plate n begging for more crumbs.

and many many more authors YOU'RE ALL AMAZING!!!! incld my other mooties too —THANK YOU FOR PUTTING YOUR HANDS ON THE KEYBOARD, PRESSING THE KEYS, AND SAVING MY LIFE WHEN YOU PRESS POST NOW.

[minnie--verse]

Pen Pals — A Park Sunghoon Fic

!!PART 1!!

Summary: you, Ren, are a college student, taking what you would be a normal composition class—until you’re assigned a penpal with the professors’s later class. What happens when you fall for someone you know.. but don’t know.

pairing: Sunghoon x f!reader(Ren)

genre: strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, mostly fluff, later chapters to include: possible angst/comfort, slow burn.

general warnings: College student!mc, slow burn, love square(between two ppl), swearing, possible adult content in future chapters.

word count: ~3.4k

chapter content: mentions of food, first meets, college lectures, and a silly bff:)

author's note: i reaaaallly suck about posting huh… oh well ig. I’m gonna be real quick about uploading this one while I have the mindset for it…

Please enjoy this little corner of my mind<3

!!this is NOT proof read!!

thx for reading!

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The tiny desk attached to your squeaky seat was pissing you off, the bright, fluorescent lights humming only amplifying the annoyance wracking in your mind. The clock on the wall ticks slowly, reminding you that it’s only 8:05 AM. The professor’s voice drones on about the thesis statements, but your mind is foggy, still walking up from the late night before. Your eyes feel heavy, and you can’t help but wonder why you signed up for an 8:00 AM class in the first place.

Ren, you tell yourself, this is necessary. You know you need to have some sort of English class to graduate, but right now the idea of analyzing other student’s essays feels like an impossible task. You glance around the room, noticing the other students, some furiously taking notes, others looking just as tired as you are. The professor, oblivious to the collective lack of enthusiasm, scribbles something on a whiteboard.

“...and that’s why I thought it would be interesting for us to connect with another group,” the professor says, his voice pulling you back into the present. You blink, trying to focus as he continues. “This semester, you will be writing to someone anonymously in my other composition class. Each penpal would be random, and will take up 25% of your final grade for exchanging letters throughout the semester.”

Great. Just what you needed. Another thing to add to your already overflowing list of homework assignments and to-dos. You can't help but frown, a sense of dread washing over you. The idea of writing to a stranger, even anonymously, feels like an unnecessary burden. Why can this be an optional assignment? Or better yet, why can't you just… sleep through this part?

”Remember,” the professor’s voice cuts through your thoughts, “this is a chance to really connect with someone. Think of it as an opportunity to engage in meaningful dialogue with someone you may not have chosen to speak to normally.”

Meaningful dialogue… sounds like something you’re not going to get from this. Instead, you imagine a semester of cringing every time you have to sit down and write a letter, trying to think of something—anything—worth saying to someone you don't even know.

The professor continues explaining the details, but you’ve already tuned out. You’re thinking about how you’re going to manage to write these letters on top of everything else. How you’re going to have to come up with things to say to someone you don’t even know. It all feels like too much. You sigh softly, leaning back in your chair, and stare at the blank notebook in front of you, wishing you were anywhere else but here.

”To get you started,” The professor says with a smile that you find entirely too cheerful for a Monday morning, “I’ve prepared a prompt for your first letter. It’s a suggestion to help break the ice, so don’t feel like you have to follow it exactly. But it might give you a good starting point.”

The screen at the front of the lecture hall illuminates and it reads.

“Write about a time that recently made you feel alive, a small moment in time, or something more significant--just be honest. It will help break the ice.”

You let out a quiet sigh. It’s not the worst prompt ever, but it still feels like a forced effort to bond over something personal with someone who’s just as much a stranger as the person sitting next to you on the campus bus.

You sit there, staring at a blank piece of paper in front of you. Around you, the other students were starting to write, some scribbling furiously, and some, like you, were hesitating. The professor has settled into his desk, giving everyone time to get started on their first letter.

You change around, half-hoping that the right words would just come to you if you sit there long enough. But the longer you wait, the more you feel like you’re just stalling. With a small sigh, you pick up your pen and start writing. Trying not to think too hard about it.

Dear You,

I’m not sure how to begin this, but I guess I’ll start with the prompt we were given. Something that made me feel truly alive recently… Honestly, nothing truly jumps out of me, but I guess there was one moment a few weeks ago.

I was walking through the park near campus, and it was one of those perfect days where the weather is just right--warm sun, cool breeze, you know? I found this spot under the tree on the east side of the park near the water fountain and sat down with a book, planning to read for a while. But instead of diving into the story, I just… sat there. I let the sun spots through the leaves soak into my skin, watched the trees rustle, and for a few minutes, I didn’t think about anything at all.

It was like everything slowed down, and for the first time in a while, I felt completely present. I could hear the faint laughter of kids playing in the distance, the soft rustle of the wind through the trees and the steady rhythm of my own breathing.

It wasn't some grand epiphany or anything but in that moment, I felt alive--like really alive. I don't know how else to describe it.

Anyway, that's my something I suppose. I guess I’m curious to hear what yours is. Looking forward to hearing from you.

Talk to you later--From Sunny.

You stop writing and look down at what you’ve just put on paper. It feels kind of personal to be sharing with a stranger, but then again, maybe that was the point of the prompt. You close the letter, fold it up and write your alias on the outside of the envelope, handing it to the professor as you leave class.

When you walk out into the lecture hall, you feel a mix of relief and nervousness. The first letter is done, but now you have to wait and see what kind of person you’ll be writing to for the rest of the semester. Just don't overthink it, everything will be fine, and maybe you’ll even make a friend out of it.

As you leave the lecture hall, your mind is still lingering on the letter you just wrote. The words feel like they’ve taken something out of you, as if sharing something tha small, peaceful moment tinder the tree was more intimate than you intended. You shake your head, trying to brush it off, but the thought keeps nagging at you.

Why did you write that? You could have picked something less personal, something that wouldn’t make you feel so exposed. Now, someone out there--some random student that you’ve never met before in your life--knows this quiet little detail about your mind and memories. You sigh, trying to push the thoughts away as you head out of the building.

Your feet carry you automatically in the firstion of the park, the one you mentioned in the letter. You don't really plan on going there, but the memory of that quiet afternoon had drawn you in. You watch your feelings move over the pavement, avoiding cracks and stepping over fallen leaves, completely absorbed in your own thoughts.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad? You think. Maybe this pen pal thing will actually be a good way to connect with someone in a way that’s different from all the shallow interaction you’re used to. Or maybe you’re just kidding yourself, trying to make the best of something that’s bound to be awkward.

Lost in your musing, you don't notice the figure walking toward you until it’s too late. Your shoulder crashes into something solid, jolting you out of your mind. You stumble a step, startled, and look up to see who--or what--you’ve run into.

“Ah, sorry--” you start to say, but your voice falters as you look up and see who you’ve bumped into.

He’s tall, with dark hair that falls just above his eyes, and he’s looking down at you with an expression that’s somewhere between indifferent and tired. He doesn't say anything, just stares at you like he’s waiting for you to explain, but also like he doesn’t really care enough to demand one.

You freeze for a moment, unsure of what to do. The words you were about to say evaporate in your throat, leaving you with nothing but the realization that you’ve just ran face first into someone who probably isn’t thrilled about it.

“Sorry, again,” you mumble out, feeling small under his intense expression. You nod your head at him and step around him, eager to escape his awkward encounter, but his gaze keeps you rooted to the spot for a second longer.

He gives you a tight lipped smile, one corner upturning with an unreadable expression. For a split second, you think he’s going to say something, but instead he gives you an imperceptible nod and steps aside, allowing you to pass. His eyes linger on you for a moment before he continues on his way, not looking back.

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding and quickly continue down the bath, your heart beating a little faster than before. As you walk away, you can't help but glance over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of him disappearing into the crowd.

Shaking your head, you try to refocus on your original destination, but your thoughts keep circling back to the brief encounter. Who was he? And why did it feel like he looked right through you like glass, even in that split-second exchange?

As you reach the park, the familiar sights and sounds start to calm your nerves, but the memory of the bump still lingers at the edges of your mind, intertwining with your thoughts of the letter you just wrote. You find the tree, the one you wrote about, and sit down beneath it, just as you did that day.

— — — — — — — — —— — — — — — —

The guy walks through the campus with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he weaves through the crowd. The earlier encounter with that girl still lingers in his mind, a faint annoyance prickling at the back of his thoughts. He didn’t even catch her name, but there was something about the way she looked at him—wide-eyed and apologetic—that stuck with him more than he’d care to admit.

He steps into the Composition class, his usual indifferent expression masking the mild annoyance he feels about being here. The class is a requirement, not something he chose willingly. He would rather be anywhere else, but he knows he doesn’t have much of a choice if he wants to keep up his GPA.

As the professor begins to speak, his attention drifts. He’s always found this class tedious—too much focus on sharing and connecting with people he has no interest in getting to know. He just wants to get through the semester and move on. But when the professor starts explaining the new assignment, his ears perk up, and a frown creases his forehead.

“Each of you will be assigned an anonymous pen pal from my earlier class,” the professor says, scanning the room with a smile that he finds a bit too enthusiastic. “You’ll be exchanging letters for the rest of the semester, starting with a response to a prompt that’s already been given.”

He bites back a groan. The last thing he needs is to waste time writing letters to some random stranger. He can already imagine the kind of forced, overly sincere nonsense this assignment is going to generate. But there’s no point in complaining—it’s not like he has a choice.

“Here,” the professor’s voice cuts into his thoughts, and he looks up, realizing he’s being handed an envelope. “This is your pen pal assignment. You’ll be exchanging letters with a student from my earlier class.”

He nods curtly and takes the envelope, noticing the name on it: Sunny. The ink is a soft purple ink, and the font is small, cursive, and neat—definitely a girl. He sighs inwardly, already anticipating some overly cheerful or sentimental nonsense about love making people feel alive. But, 25% of his grade is a big chunk. So he unfolds the letter and begins to read it.

The words inside aren’t exactly what he expected. There’s something honest and straightforward about the way she describes her moment in the park. It’s simple, unpretentious, and somehow resonates with him more than he cared to admit. He pauses, almost feeling what she was describing, even if he’s reluctant to acknowledge it.

He taps his pen against the desk, considering how to respond. He doesn’t want to write something superficial, but he also doesn’t want to spill his guts to a stranger. After a few moments of deliberation, he starts writing.

Dear Sunny,

Your letter caught me off guard. I honestly was expecting to read something about falling in love and whoever they were to make you feel like you were alive, but your little moment of clarity in the park reminded me of something similar.

It was late—past midnight, I think—and the city was dead, completely silent. It was like that silence when the snow had blanketed everything, kind of muffling the unusual sounds. I was walking though campus to my apartment after spending the evening at work, and took a detour through a small side street.

It was snowing pretty heavily, but even with the large snowflakes falling it felt like everything paused. The streetlights were orangey in contrast to the weather, and it was completely still. No one was out, and I guess for a second it felt like the entire city belonged to me.

I stopped walking and just stood there by the café on 6th, letting snow accumulate on my shoulders and soaking my backpack while my cheeks pricked with pain form being outside too long. It felt like I was kind of waiting for something to happen I guess but nothing came.

So I suppose what I’m saying is that understand your little blip in time. The moments where things are quiet, or seemingly amplified, and then posing some kind of clarity. Maybe I’m talking nonsense but if I read your words right then maybe the professor knew we’d understand one another.

or maybe I’m just an idiot.

We’ll see.

Talk to you soon. -- Snow.

He rereads the letter once before folding it and sealing it back in the envelope. His handwriting is a little rough, but it’s legible. He writes his chosen anonymous name on the front, feeling a slight pang of curiosity about this “Sunny” person and why they wrote what they did. He pushes the thought aside, deciding it doesn’t really matter.

As he hands the envelope to the professor at the end of class, He can’t help but wonder what he’ll get in response. But that thought is quickly buried as he leaves the classroom, his mind already moving on to the next thing on his list for the day.

— — — — — — — — —— — — — — — —

You tossed your bag onto the floor as you step inside your apartment, the comforting smell of whatever takeout your roommate ordered hitting you thes moment you walk in. Callie is already lounging on the couch, legs draped over the armrest, with her phone in hand. She glances up as you enter, eyes gently lighting up as she greets you with a smile before a small laugh escapes her.

“Beloved—how was class?” She says, noting the unenthusiastic face you’re wearing, “Judging by your face, I’d say today was interesting?”

You snort, kicking off your shoes and collapsing onto the couch next to her, “Interesting is definitely a way to put it. Annoying is another. My professor wants my comp class to write pen pals.”

Callie arches a brow, “Pen pals? What are we back in elementary school? Should we pass notes under the desk with glitter pen too?”

”That’s my thoughts, exactly,” You retort, grabbing a piece of bread from her takeout and munching on it without thought, “It’s a semester long assignment worth 25% of my grade. We have to write them anonymously to his other comp class. It kind of just feels like busy work and an excuse to make people come to class.”

Callie grins, rolling over to face you, “So, did you pour your heart out in some tragic ode to life’s fleeting moments? Or did you just draw your buddy a stick figure and call it a day?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands, “Neither,” you sigh, “more like I enlightened myself about how little I want to be writing anonymous letters to strangers. I wrote about that day in the park. The one where I was supposed to be reading but ended up zoning out for hours under that tree?”

You peek through your fingers to see Callie looking at you with a mixture of laughter and thoughtfulness, “Ah, the day you turned into a sun worshiping lizard… sounds absolutely riveting.” Callie laughed.

”Yeah well, reptile or not, it was peaceful.” You say, finishing the bread in your hand before settling into the couch, “Anyway—I wrote about that and I guess it wasn’t the worst think I could’ve shared. At least I was honest and stuck with the prompt we were given.”

Callie’s head tilted at her upside down smile of amusement and confusion overtook her, “If you were honest you would have admitted to the sunburn you got after falling asleep.”

You roll your eyes again, but there’s a smile tugging at your mouth, “I didn’t fall asleep, I was just meditating.. with my eyes closed.”

”Sure, sure,” she says waving you off, “So you dazzled your little buddy with your deep existential musings. What else happened?”

You think back to the letter, to the way you had tried to describe that feeling of being completely in the moment. Then, your mind drifts to the encounter in the park, the way you’d bumped into that guy with the dark hair and unreadable expression. The memory makes your cheeks warm, though you’re not sure why.

“Well, I wrote the letter in class, handed it in, and then headed to the park to see if I could relive the moment I wrote about,” you say, trying to keep your tone casual. “But on my way there, I accidentally bumped into some guy. Tall, dark hair, brooding vibes—the whole package.”

Callie’s eyes light up with interest. “Brooding vibes, huh? Sounds like your type.”

You shoot her a look. “My type? Since when do I have a type?”

“Since always,” she says with a grin. “You know you’re drawn to the mysterious, emotionally unavailable types.”

You groan, half in exasperation, half in embarrassment. “He wasn’t even that interesting. He just stared at me like I was some kind of freak, and then he walked away. End of story.”

Callie laughs, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Sounds like you made quite the impression. Maybe he’s secretly pining for you now, writing tragic poetry about the girl who bumped into him in the park.”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, though the thought would be cute if fate truly worked like that. “He probably forgot about me the second I walked away.”

Callie shrugs, still smiling. “Or maybe he’s out there somewhere, wondering who the mysterious girl was, who bumped into him and then vanished into campus. You never know, Ren. Life’s full of surprises.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“That’s why you love me,” Callie says with a dramatic hair flip. “Now, go get changed. We’re watching that show tonight, and I’m not letting you back out of it.”

You sigh dramatically, but you can’t deny that the idea of curling up on the couch with Callie and a bad movie sounds like the perfect way to unwind. “Fine, fine. But only if you promise not to get mad when I talk through the whole thing.”

“No promises,” Callie says, grinning wickedly. “But I’ll try.”

As you head to your room to change, you can’t help but replay the day’s events in your mind—the letter, the guy in the park, and Callie’s teasing words. Life is full of surprises, she said, and maybe she’s right. Maybe this pen pal thing will turn out to be more interesting than you thought.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

ending note —

*I am so so so so excited for this one chat.*

Sorry i’m in and out of writing, sometimes the lack of prompts make it hard to keep writing. I also started school for cosmetology and I work so finding time to write is hard. I will post this one more regularly!

I love you all and think you for reading my little corner of tumblr<3

[ax-y10]

hii!!

i saw ur wilbur x reader fic of reader being obsessed with his fluffy hair and i adored it!!! it was so cute !!

as a curly haired gal, it got me thinking of fem!reader who has curly hair helping will style his curls and teaching him how to do it

thank you!! :]

Fluffy Pt.2

In which- you love his curls, and you may have taught him a new skill

A/n: thx for your request, I love your writing. I'm genuinely trying so fucking hard to get stuff out so I can clear my drafts.

Headcanon info: I actually don't know but it's mainly fluff, pet names, swearing, and Wilbur being a little shit

Pronouns: None (You/Yours)

Masterlist:

Having someone with the same hair type as you was definitely a plus in the relationship.

Being able to relate to each and every hair problem, like it not curling right, or it becoming really frizzy etc.

So when you met Wilbur, your curly-haired boyfriend, The hair twirling he would do would be so calming, each and every finger lacing through your hair effortlessly.

The same goes for you, his short, fluffy and curly hair so soothing to you and your fingers, being able to separate each curl, making it poofier.

One day, you proposed the idea of teaching him how to curl his hair and style it, you having curly hair and knowing how to help, and he immediately agreed.

Now, if you have long hair, you would have to learn how to style short hair, your long hair techniques not working.

But of you had shorter hair, it would be so much easier to help him, the occasional challenge here and there but overall super easy to help.

The showers together washing each others hair and the late nights, him sat on the bathroom counter, you applying random things in his hair to experiment

"Darling? What the fuck is Aloe Vera? Don't tell me you're putting this in my hair... FUCK OFF NO!" He'd protest. "But it'll help the curls" "Okay"

He'd be so happy and bubbly the next day because his hair was bouncy

And Ash would text you and say "What the fuck happened to Wil?"

And your text back? "I made his hair bouncy"

This golden retriever motherfucker would genuinely be like "OMG ASH MY HAIR'S BOUNCY! LOOK!" and he'd make a point by pulling on a strand of hair and it bouncing back.

(I actually don't know what else to say so here's a small drabble)

You proposed the idea of styling his curls while sitting on the couch watching a movie. Well, in reality, you were currently in a staring contest with him, him starting it by staring at you hair, obsessing over your curls. You'd lost, of course, so he got to separate your curls and make your hair poofy, much to your dismay, but at least he was happy. "Wil, I should style your curls like mine. You seem to love my hair, so you can obsess over yours instead of fucking up my hair," You spoke, half jokingly, him probably being scared of all the weird stuff you were going to put in his hair, but he immediately agreed. "YES! Lets go, come one" And you were being dragged to the bathroom, and sat on the bench so you could reach his head. "Now sweet, you are going to have to stay still for me while I wet your hair," and this motherfucker shook his hair. "Hold the fuck up, I can't put this stuff in your hair until you stop dancing around like a maniac and stay in front of me, and I especially can't dry your hair," you scolded while your boyfriend bounced around the bathroom, already obsessing over his wet curls. Eventually, you got his hair all prepped for the morning, despite his protests against many products. You wrapped it in a small towel and went to bed, knowing he's going to wake up on the floor, towel across the room, and the blankets stolen from his moving around. Surprisingly, you woke up to him making you breakfast with his curls perfectly intact.

[menlove]

Sorry if you’ve been asked this already, but do you have any mclennon fic recs for 1967/pepper era?? I’m obsessed with the vibes around this time, and with Jane away John and Paul seemed to spend a lot of their free time during this period together, but I’ve had trouble finding much of anything. Thx!! <3

oooh good question ! i love love love the 1967/pepper era so let me look back in my ao3 history and see what i've got

these aren't all pepper's era, but they are all 1967 (w the exception of One that's not 67 but Is pepper's). put a 💖 next to ones i especially love

If You'll Shut Up About It, I Will

mature. au. 4k

The day after his birthday, Paul McCartney admits on national television that he's illegally had sex with men. On multiple occasions. But it's the media's responsibility not to spread these things, isn't it? Unfortunately (or fortunately), someone else is watching the broadcast, and wants to know why Paul has decided to declare he's queer to all and sundry when he's the one who's been waiting for Paul to give it a go. AKA, That LSD Interview but make it gayer. note: very interesting, short little au on if paul had come out as having had queer sex rather than having done lsd

you know i know when it's a dream

mature. 5k. In 1967, The Beatles visited Greece with the plan of purchasing an island they could call home. Of course, it was mostly John's idea. note: angsty, smutty little one-shot that hurt my heart

1967 💖

mature. 11.5k. au. In 1961, John Lennon and Paul McCartney left abruptly on a trip to Spain, via France. In 1967, they finally come home to face the consequences. note: not EXACTLY what you're looking for but hey the year is in the title..... but it's sooo good i'll rec this fic constantly. they do definitely have the same aesthetic that they did in real life 1967 too. but this one is so fucking good. it's got an experimental style that lets you see everyone's pov while still remaining really well written which imo is hard to do when you're doing a bunch of pov switches. but it's outsider perspective mclennon & explores the nuances of their relationship and how it was/wasn't impacted by fame and how they'd still be creative with each other if they'd never gotten famous from the beatles...... also they basically create the muppets which i think makes this worth reccing on its own tbh

The Places Where You Bend

mature. 2.6k. "Whatever the opposite of 'toppermost of the poppermost' might be, we're in it up to our asses." It's 1967, all hell is breaking loose, and Paul doesn't know if he can do this anymore. note: ugh i loved this one. it's angsty, as any beginning-of-the-end-of-their-relationship fic is, but it's sooo them and very bittersweet

Stop all the clocks 💖

mature. 30.8k. au. For the following kink meme prompt: ‘1967. After Brian dies, Paul decides not to go ahead with MMT, and takes John up to Scotland for a month instead.’ Also based on the following comment on said prompt: ‘pls someone let them fuck tenderly in 1967’ note: definitely an instant classic! super sweet au that makes you wish life had gone this way for them

Way Up Top 💖

explicit. 12k. Falling out of the sky, together. | Snapshots of the Beatles in Greece, July 1967 note: one of my all-time faves ughhhhhh i just love how they wrote everyone. like ofc the mclennon is great, but this one is so so good for just all around good characterization and writing

always, no sometimes 💖

explicit. 20k. Stolen moments from a single year. Or: four times someone nearly found John and Paul together, and the one time they found each other. Set around the recording of Sgt. Pepper, 1966. note: not 1967, but 100000% the vibe you're looking for. such a good fic. i honestly need to do a re-read bc it's been long enough, but this one was just. augh. so much mustache sex too.

shotgunning

explicit. 3.4k From the kink meme prompt: john/paul, shotgunning weed note: i don't Think this one has a year on it officially, but it definitely fits the vibe you're looking for!

Drop Chute

explicit. 1.9k. paul/robert as well "Paul does coke off Robert's dick and blows him in a public toilet. John is in the neighbouring stall and hates it." FFA asked and I delivered. note: ahhhh we love a good "john getting jealous of paul fucking other men" fic

again

explicit. 1.3k In the summer of ‘67, Paul knows exactly how lucky he is to be the man who gets to fuck John, and then eat him out, and then fuck him again, and then — note: it's smut and it's good smut what else can i say truly

Club Sandwich

mature. 4k. Some drug-fueled party in 1967. Paul ends up sandwiched between two men on the couch. As they start fondling and kissing him, John stumbles upon the scene… note: absolutely great. possessiveness and coke prince paul...... what else could i want from a fic

Carousel 💖

explicit. 3.4k 21 March, 1967. John accidentally drops acid during the mixing of Sgt Pepper. Paul drives him back to Cavendish and decides to take LSD for the first time. Based on true events. John's POV. note: definitely my favorite take on the "john and paul tripping together for the first time" story. so good and introspective.

you can get it wrong (and still think you're right)

explicit. 7.4k. Paul visits John at Weybridge. January, 1967. The laziest man in England, that article had said, and Paul thought suddenly of John, lounging: John, turning the pages of a book with one languid hand, his hair mussed and fetching, making pithy comments to empty rooms. Or maybe he didn’t speak at all when he was alone; Paul realized that he didn’t know anymore. note: aghhhh another great one by stonedlennon. the bittersweetness of their relationship.... love this one a lot tbh

Angles

explicit. 2.7k. John takes another languid drag of his cigarette, his eyes alight now when they look into the lens, meeting Paul's. He's a marvellous subject. They should put him in every movie. "That it?" Paul asks—leading. Hungry. "You're the director. Give us a direction," John goads him. note: looove this one. but all of moeexyz's fics are so good so that's to be expected tbh

an orgasm of sound 💖

explicit. 5.3k “It was a good piece of work between Paul and me. I had the ‘I read the news today’ bit, and it turned Paul on, because now and then we really turn each other on with a bit of song, and he just said ‘yeah’ – bang bang, like that.” — John Lennon Or, John and Paul work on A Day in the Life. note: another great one from moeexyz! this one is..... well. Well. it's very good. what more could i ask for in life than piano sex and a day in the life

[lipglossanon]

I know we've gotten that good stuck fic with subby stepbro!Leon, but I need to know the reactions he and stepbro!Leon would react if you were stuck in the washing machine

Like, it's literally impossible to get stuck in there, but I for some reason need to know 😭

And reminder to take care of yourself love!!! (is it okay I call you that?)

The cat pic! ASDSFDL 🤭

And seriously I love stuckage but why is the washing machine the trope 😭 but I’ll try my best friend, reader will be magically stuck in there somehow haha 🫡

Aww thank you 🥹 I’m doing that now! Taking it easy and trying to stay offline a little more, writing whatever I feel like and posting what I want haha. And it’s perfectly fine to call me that! I’m chill 🥶 😝 (18+ under the cut pls and thx 🙏)

Stepbro Leon:

Hears some weird noise as he’s walking into the kitchen and so follows it til he comes to the laundry room. And sees you, lower half dangling over the washing machine

“What the hell are you doing?”

Your voice echoes weirdly since it’s coming out of the machine itself, “I got stuck, help pull me out.”

You just hear him snicker to himself and then feel him press up against your body.

“You’ve gotta say it, this is too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

“What the hell are you talking about, get me out of here!” You try to kick your legs but it’s too awkward.

His voice goes falsetto, “Please help me stepbro, I’m stuck.”

“Fuck off,” you snap at him, feeling frustrated, “if you won’t help me go find someone else, asshole.”

He clicks his tongue, “That’s no way to ask nicely.”

“Please, big brother,” your voice drones sardonically, sounding even dryer with the metallic echo, “I need your help.”

He sighs, “You’re no fun, seriously. But…”

He doesn’t say anything but you feel him tugging your shorts down your legs, “Maybe this might help you out.”

His fingers slide under the band of your panties and start to softly circle your clit. You whine and clamp your legs shut but it only makes him laugh and tease your slit, fingers dipping into your hole.

“Fuck, you’re already wet,” he groans, slipping two fingers into your pussy easily finding the spongy spot along the front of your cunt to rub against.

You moan as he slides his fingers out and you feel the hot tip of his cock pressing into your hole in their place. Both of you groan as he sinks his dick into your pussy, quickly pulling out to slowly fuck back into your fluttering walls.

“Slutty fucking pussy,” his big hands wrap around your hips as he snaps his hips into your ass, “so fucking good.”

“Leon,” you mewl, crying out when his slick covered fingers find your clit again and start to slowly circle the sensitive bud.

“Yeah, cum on my cock and I’ll help you out, little sis,” he laughs.

It feels like he keeps you on the cusp of orgasm for forever, every time your cunt clamps around his dick he eases off from teasing your clit until you’re whining and gasping, pleading with him to cum.

“Ready to get all filled up, baby sis? Want big brother to cream your hot fucking cunt? Yeah y’do,” he grunts, hips thrusting into your squelching hole as he rubs your clit in harsh circles.

“Please, wanna cum, please big brother, please,” you gasp out, a low keening whine spilling out of your mouth to echo around you as Leon rubs across your clit just right, making your orgasm overtake your body.

Leon curses under his breath as your body shakes and tightens up around his cock until it feels like he’s fucking into a vice grip. A few more thrusts and he’s burying himself deep into your spasming walls, cock spurting hot cum into your pussy as it milks him. Once he’s soft enough, he pulls out with a low hiss, quickly snapping your panties and shorts over your ass so nothing drips out of you. He reaches around your shoulders and maneuvers your arms and shoulders until you’re stumbling back into his chest.

He slaps your ass as he heads out of the room, smirking at you, “Next time just say you want fucked, don’t gotta get stuck for me.”

Subby stepbro:

Is already actually looking around the house trying to find you. So imagine his surprise to see your ass hanging out of the washing machine as soon as he goes into the laundry room.

“Uhh, do you need help?”

You laugh but it sounds strained, “Yes, I’ve been trying to get out of here for longer than I’d like to admit.”

He bites his lip as he actually looks at you. You’re only wearing skimpy panties and a baggy shirt (makes sense to him that you’d be doing laundry then). But he can see the outline of your fat pussy lips and it’s making him stupid. Walking up to you, his hand skates up your thighs until his thumbs are spreading open your pussy until your underwear barely cover your hole.

“Leon,” your shaky voice makes him groan.

“Let me just—“ he stops talking to dip down and lick your cunt through the thin panties.

“Leon!” You gasp out, “fuck, this is so, ngh!”

He’s yanking your panties off, mouth going right back to licking into your cunt. Moaning, he licks and mouths along your pussy lips, sucking them into his mouth as he moves up to your clit. He sucks the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth, running his tongue over the hood before flicking across your clit. You can hear clothes shuffling and then Leon’s pulling away only to push the fat head of his cock into your soaked hole. You squeal as he buries his thick cock into your pussy, feeling overly stretched out and full.

“Fuck, just needed to feel your pussy, big sis,” he grunts, rocking his hips deeper into you, “so sexy, bent over with your hot little cunt just there for me to take, fuck.”

He groans and starts a quick and hard tempo, humping against your ass as his cock bullies into your pussy over and over. You’re only able to whine and moan as your stuck taking Leon’s fat cock deep into your cunt. His hand slips to the front of your hips and he teases across your slippery clit.

“Big sis,” he pants, drooling against your back as he thrusts harder, “gonna cum in you, god, want you to cum all over my cock so I can creampie your pretty pussy.”

“God, yes,” you gasp, “right there, keep fucking me like that—‘m gonna cum.”

Leon whines and bites your shirt as his cock knocks against your cervix and rubs across your g-spot. He hammers against the spongy spot in your cunt until your toes are curling as you cum hard around his dick, walls spasming and milking him rhythmically.

“Feel s’good,” he moans, thrusting so hard to bury his cock deep into your pussy it shifts the washing machine dislodging you.

He only grabs your upper body and presses you down as he rails your pussy, finally pressing tight against your body as he spurts hot ropes of sticky cum all in your stuffed hole.

He pulls out with a groan, quickly pulls his sweats up, and grabs you up in a bridal carry.

“Gotta get you to a bed,” he murmurs as he presses a sloppy kiss against your cheek, “need you so bad.”

[hailthegodsong]

Hello hello I’m here with a request!!

Since you don’t have any Sam stuff out yet I thought it would be a cute idea if Rosie (or even the new baby maybe that would be more believable) got lost but the reader who is like independently at the park finds her and calls the number on the collar and oh SHIT this dog belongs to cute guy from that band what are the odds!! Maybe we should go get drinks about it!!

pls and thx love ur work

Update: Here is the link to 'Maybe'

Oooookay this was asked of me in October 2024 and I HATE that I left you hanging for so long anon, I truly am so so sorry. I loved the meet cute aspect of your ask, however I think I’m unable of writing stories unless they involve some kind of angst (i’m sorry i know there’s something wrong with me) so I took that situation and absolutely ran with it, I really hope you don’t mind.

I am now 11k words into this story that includes pretty difficult themes including: history of domestic violence (this is the main theme of the story), trauma, panic attacks and anxiety, and other fear related themes.

Summary: After years of struggling to move past the damage left by abusive relationships, you’ve built a life focused on safety— for yourself and your rescue dog, Bella, who carries her own scars. But when Sam's quiet kindness enters your life, the walls you’ve built start to crack. Even when fears and trauma threaten to push him away, Sam’s patience and understanding help you begin to heal. Maybe, just maybe, letting someone in doesn’t have to be a risk after all.

Again, I’m super sorry that I changed and intensified your request, but I hope you still like it, as this one took me a long long time to write

Just putting this out there to let everyone know that this oneshot should be out by Sunday afternoon latest and is my first ever, LONG overdue, Sam fic.

As always, lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this one!! Can’t wait to finally have it out to you. I’m sorry again for taking so very long

(To those of you who also submitted requests that I have yet to post, I have plans and drafts for your requests I promise!! I also am super sorry for taking so long, but I promise they’re coming xx)

[asexual-spongebob]

What are some tips you have for writing fanfics?

I have some! I hope these are helpful!

Tips for writing Multi-Chapter fics, as someone who has written multiple:

Have an idea of how many chapters + the word count range for the chapters. Some fics have shorter word counts but have more chapters (like my fic, The Waves That Lap The Shore for example, was usually in the 1k to 2k range when it came to it’s chapters, and had a lot of chapters. However, my other multi chapter fic, Wail Of The Siren didn’t have many chapters, but was longer when it came to word counts for chapters. The chapters usually being 2-5k words. Every fic is different.

I also recommend having some kind of plan. I doesn’t even have to be a detailed one. It can literally be just a document full of thought dumps. My planning/outline for Wail Of The Siren was literally just a document on my notes app full of my ideas.

If you’re about to scrap a scene, put it in a document for scrapped scenes and dialogue. That way, later on, if you decide that you want to include that scene or dialogue, you wouldn’t have to rewrite it from scratch, you can just copy and paste from the scrapped scene document. I can think of so many times that I’ve scrapped a scene or piece of dialogue and ended up using it later.

Write the story you want to read.

The first draft will not be perfect. It’s okay if it’s a bit of a dumpster fire.

You don’t have to write in chronological order! Have a scene/chapter you are really excited to write but hate having to power through others just so you can write that one? Write it first! You can fill in the blanks later!

If you are having trouble finding words to use, then go to sites like word hippo and thesaurus! I’ve found some great words there.

It’s okay to use said, sometimes a character just says something and that’s okay.

Show instead of tell, like instead of saying, “she was angry as she watched him walk by, wishing she could punch him” can say “rage boiled inside of her at the sight of him, she clenched her hand into a fist and clenched her teeth as she watched walk by, wishing she could just punch him in the face.”

DO. NOT. TYPE. THE. FIC. DIRECTLY. ONTO. AO3’s/WATTPAD/FF.NET’S ETC’S TEXT BOX! You run the risk of your hard work being washed down the drain if you forget to save it. Or if it gets deleted. Always write your chapters somewhere other than your fanfic site’s text box. You can literally use anything. Google doc’s, libree office, word, your notes app, hell even apps that’s intended for grocery lists. Always have them saved somewhere else.

Oh and I also recommend using a spell checker to fix any grammar mistakes! You can find them online if the program your using doesn’t have one!

honestly i love answering asks like this. Thx 4 sending! :)