#tonight when working on my fic:

[clandestinegardenias]

I'm feeling really angsty tonight (post-vacation comedown maybe?) and can't stop thinking about my 'they go back to the Arctic' fitzier fic.

Cause like...actual Francis Rawdon Moira Croizer was Not Particularly Good at being on land. He fled to the Arctic again partly because of that and, one assumes, partly because of his heartbreak via Sophia Cracroft.

And it's astonishing how many real life Arctic disaster survivors WENT BACK. They couldn't live in regular society anymore, and there was something that just...drew them back, inexorably.

It's the PERFECT setup for a Francis POV angsty pining unrequited doomed-in-love fic where he attempts to flee from James, his heartbreak, and his own inadequacies/failings by taking another commission to find the Passage, and he tries like hell to avoid taking James with him but James is strangely persistent and public/official sentiment seals the deal. James will be his second, and as it turns out the love isn't quite as unrequited as Francis thinks...

Anyway I've been collecting quotes that fit The Vibe and here's what I've got so far:

“I believe that every man who has once learned the secrets of the wild polar wilderness and its savage joys will always long to return to it, finding there a spell, an inspiration, that makes all other kinds of life seem insipid.” ~Frederick Cook, Atchinson Globe, 18 Sept. 1897 (tumblr post link)

God, God, what do I do after so much survival? - Traci Brimhall, Vive Vive (tumblr post link)

“I went into the desert to forget about you. But the sand was the color of your hair. The desert sky was the color of your eyes. There was nowhere I could go that wouldn’t be you.” Into the Sands, as quoted in Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

[johnslittlespoon]

accidentally just created my own buckbucky college au oops (i love college aus tho, this was far overdue tbh) so here's like ~2k words of (semi–nsfw) drabble that i wanna turn into a oneshot/series :-)

thinking about modern au pre–established relationship buckbucky who meet in their first year of college because they apply to an ad to rent a two bedroom apartment near campus, complete strangers save for a few texts back and forth until move in day.

they become fast friends despite how opposite they are, john being a cliche frat boy type (but subverting expectations by majoring in something english–related? waxing secret poetry about his 'obvious as the sun to everyone but gale' crush on his roommate lol) and gale being a studious math/science major, no interest in parties or campus culture. pining aside, everything's just fine until:

john does something stupid a few months into the school year and ends up spraining/breaking his dominant arm– probably wipes out trying to ride his bike home to his and gale's apartment while drunk after a party. gale gets a call at midnight from a sheepish john asking if he can come drive him to the hospital, and of course he does, though after his initial concern when he picks john up at the side of some random street, he's fuming at john's idiocy.

"you could've rode into traffic, john. jesus, you're gonna give me a stroke one of these days, you gotta start using your brain more." and john's drenched in cold–sweat from pain as he cradles his arm to his chest, head tilted back against the headrest and trying not to curse out every red light as his head spins, but he still cracks a weak smile and says "c'mon buck, you'd be bored if i started using my brain." gale glances over and the stern look is enough to shut john up.

this injury leads to gale having to help him with certain tasks for a bit, like shaving his face, brushing his teeth, doing his hair, tying shoes, etc. john's stubborn the day after, independent to a fault, refusing to ask for help, and gale watches with mild amusement/hidden winces, not wanting to push because he knows by now it'll only make john dig his heels in. gale only decides that enough is enough when he's walking past the half–open bathroom door the next afternoon and suddenly hears a sharp inhale and a stream of profanities and pokes his head in to find john's cut his jaw trying to shave with his left hand.

the intimacy and domesticity of it all– john pretends he's inconvenienced, but once he realizes this means he gets to stare at gale's focussed face up close as he sits on the bathroom counter and gale stands between his legs carefully shaving away his stubble, he's a lot less reluctant to accept help. but being that close to gale's face and being able to unabashedly study his long lashes and the curve of his lips is dangerous for john's lack of impulse control, barely keeping his pining under wraps from the moment they'd met, let alone with this newfound proximity they have to fall into the routine of.

so john has fun being a shithead on purpose during these moments, both to distract his yearning brain and for his own entertainment, just yapping away while gale's frustratedly trying to grab him by his jaw and hold him still for five seconds. biting down on the toothbrush when gale's trying to do a proper job of brushing his teeth so gale has to wrestle it away like he's playing tug of war with a dog, being an asshole and jerking his shoe to the side while gale's doing up his laces for him, heart leaping at the thrill he gets from gale's touches getting firmer when he's fed up, or from being pinned by irritated blue eyes.

he has no idea gale's pining just as hard, because gale's a master of concealing emotions in thanks to a very different upbringing than john's, and because while gale doesn't hide his queerness, he's not as open with it as john is. but gale's losing his mind just as much each time john needs his help, and the way he feels his self control slipping scares him.

this little dance around each other probably comes to a peak when john's being extra difficult one day while gale's trying to tame his wild curls for him. gale's got john pressed back against the bathroom counter with a scowl, working his gelled fingers through thick dark hair, and john can barely think straight because oh, has he ever spent an ungodly amount of time thinking about gale's hands in his hair under very different circumstances.

john's got a grin so big it near splits his face in half as he purposefully leans out of gale's reach, pulling every annoying thing he can think of because if he focuses too hard on gale's motions, he's gonna pop a very inconvenient boner with no hope of concealing it from gale with the way he's pressed up against him.

but gale's got twenty minutes until his next class and it's a ten minute walk from their apartment, and he's at the end of his rope, so he finally snaps and without giving it a second thought he closes the last bit of distance between them to grab at the back of john's hair, and he pulls, hard.

the smile slides off john's face as his mouth falls open and his hips reflexively jerk forward and whatever scolding gale was about to give him dies in his throat because holy shit. there's a few seconds where both of them just stare at each other wide eyed with their hearts pounding, john internally spiralling because he thinks he's just fucked everything up, gale internally spiralling because oh my god, he hasn't been misreading john's behaviour around him.

gale whispers a "fuck" and, more impulsive than he's ever allowed himself to be, goes in for the kiss, hand still tight in john's hair, and john whines into his mouth and his hands fly to gale's waist and everything gets heated really quick– until gale pulls away with a gasp for breath, both of them panting, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy. and then gale's ducking out of the bathroom and grabbing his backpack from the entry way and all but sprinting out of the apartment.

john's left standing there harder than he's ever been in his life but also panicking because he's not sure whether he's fucked up or whether gale's just overwhelmed, because he knows gale well enough to know he likes his space when big things happen.

but gale also knows john well enough to know how big of an overthinker he is; they've probably had to work through some incidents where their communication styles have clashed over the few months they've been roomies. so after his hands stop shaking enough while he's walking to campus, he types out a message to john letting him know 'I'm all good. Sorry for running, was gonna be late for class and panicked. Talk later, yeah?'

and john sighs in relief, texts back a 'np. sounds good :)' and then promptly shoves a hand down his pants and comes embarrassingly quick with the sting of gale's hands in his hair still fresh in his mind.

they talk things out somewhat, blahblahblah plotting problem for future me, but they're both shy and awkward around each other for a bit, which is so out of character for john and how obnoxiously flirty and loud mouthed he normally is.

so maybe what finally breaks them out of this tiptoeing around each other after a few days is something stupid– specifically, john ends up pent up and frustrated because trying to get off with his left hand just isn't doing it for him. and he's one of those 'once a day minimum' guys, so this isn't something he can just ignore; finds his temper is shorter, and he can't focus as well, etc. drama queen.

either gale comments on it lightheartedly and john blurts out his problem unthinkingly, or john makes an offhand joke about it, and gale thinks john's lack of impulse control is starting to rub off on him, because after a beat of silence, he gets out an "i can help."

john's head snaps over to look at him so fast he feels like he gives himself whiplash, eyes comically rounded, wondering if he's heard gale wrong or if gale's making a rare flirtatious joke. gale blinks back at him, looking just as surprised, tips of his ears going a little pink, but he doesn't laugh or throw in a 'only kidding!'

mumbles a "y'know, if you want," second guessing himself as if what happened in the bathroom a few days before isn't in john's top three best things that have ever happened to him list. john gets out a "yeah– yeah, i want," uncharacteristically nervous, and gale nods, turning his attention back to his laptop. and john just stands there in the kitchen, flabbergasted, shifting uncertainly.

works up the courage to shyly ask, "like. now? or." and he feels like he's never fumbled the bag so hard in his life, unable to remember the last time he's felt shy when talking about sex–related stuff, realizes just how bad his crush on gale's gotten. beyond a crush, at this point. and it makes it worse that gale's so nonchalant now, humming to himself as if in deep thought before saying "later. i've gotta get this assignment done."

john loses his mind over those next few hours, trying to be patient and give gale space to focus, but he's half hard the whole time and can't think about anything other than what gale means by 'helping'. gale can sense his impatience from the other side of their apartment, and he can't help the way it makes him smile to himself, having fun teasing john without even needing to do anything, and without john knowing it's fully intentional.

unfortunately this arrangement, however it plays out, probably leads to a lotta miscommunication and repression of feelings, because they're both dumb boys who suck at communicating, neither one of them wanting to ruin a good thing (aka an inevitable friends with benefits situation) by bringing up their feelings for the other. but there's plenty of hot sex and light kink exploration in the meantime, and eventually they sort their shit out, likely by accident like every other situation they've stumbled into together.

and not to cliffhang pre–smut, but i'll leave it there because this is way too long and if i do turn it into a oneshot i don't wanna write it all out of my system into this drabble before it makes it into a fic loll <3

[eskawrites]

for reasons that are very vague and unknowable to me, i'm suddenly having a whole lot of emotions about raise dead and all the people who interacted with it in such a kind and enthusiastic way. and idk man, writing that fic was extremely important in ways i didn't even realize at the time, but having others love it was healing in ways i never could have imagined. i will cherish it and everyone who was so nice and supportive of it when i was posting forever and ever and ever <3

[fuwahua]

Day 17 - Raspberries

✮⋆˙ TKTober Day 17 - Raspberries

✮⋆˙ Tags: Yelan/Yanfei (Established relationship), bullying your gf cutely, tummy, raspberries, fluff!

“I love your stomach window.”

“Hm?”

Yelan turns to Yanfei with a raised brow, the fabric of her tunic stretching as she does. The thin black fabric over her stomach creases and straightens, subtly shiny under the sun, and Yanfei sighs. “It’s so sexy when you stretch like that.”

“That’s the point.”

“I love your uniform. I love your job. I love you. Can you hire me?”

Yelan snorts, coming around the breakfast table. She plucks the half-drunken cup of black tea from Yanfei’s hands with ease. “Teyvat to Yanfei—are you awake yet? I told you to get some sleep last night.”

Archons, she knows. It’s not that Yanfei doesn’t want to sleep but rather that she literally can’t these days: after accepting a domestic case that appeared absurdly simple for the client’s proposed payment, she found herself unfolding Pandora’s box. Both sides of the divorce case wanted to claim ownership of an old property they’d inherited from the wife’s side but only after extensive research in the Qixing’s folders had they discovered the house was built on Adepti reserved non-residential land. Then, to add to the complexity, it was never officially claimed by said Adepti, so right now the entire case (and her paycheck!) is on hold until they can determine who it belongs to, if it legally can be claimed by any party.

A nightmare. An honest and true nightmare made worse by the fact that they can’t make any breakthroughs until the Qixing return with official word from the adepti (apparently Yanfei doesn’t count due to conflict of interest) so she was going to get some actual shut eye yesterday, only to get jump scared by her girlfriend sliding in from the bedroom window and occupying her all night instead.

Hey, wait a second.

“You’re the reason I didn’t get any!”

Yelan whistles. Yanfei groans, face falling between her arms on the table. She’s so tired.

“Please tell me the qixing has responded.”

“You’d be the first to know if they did.” Another groan. Her only solace is Yelan’s hand ruffling her hair, stroking the area she likes between her horns before drifting down to pat her back. “Hey, up. It’s breakfast time.”

“Not hungry.”

“Aw, poor baby.” Yelan’s voice is teasing, near. Her arms encircle Yanfei in a half-hug, tugging. “Come on, up. Eat.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm.”

“You sure?”

Yanfei yelps as the hands around her waist pinch her without warning, eyes shooting open in alert as sleep leaves her at once. Yelan’s lips meet her ear, the sound of her kiss loud before she purrs. “Because if you don’t eat, you’ll starve. And if you starve, your sexy tummy I love is going to disappear.”

“Hehehey! Yelahahan, stop!”

“Don’t wanna,” Yelan mocks. Yanfei gasps, scrunching up her shoulders as Yelan traps her against the table, tapping along her sides. It’s overwhelming, the feeling of her hands on her scales, oversensitive and exposed under Yelan’s knowing fingers. Her knees jump and bang against it, causing the cutlery to jitter, when Yelan’s nails scratch her hips. “Careful, babe. Don’t want to spill the breakfast I worked so hard on.”

She squeaks as Yanfei’s hands spider up to her underarms before diving further low, sliding under her skirt and scratching her thighs. It’s terrible, maddening, made worse so by the memory of Yelan doing the exact same thing yesterday with very, very different intentions. Yanfei squirms, legs kicking in protest, but Yelan’s weight keeps her rooted to the chair. “AHAHALL YOU DID WHAHAS BUY YOUTIAO!”

“Mm, from your favorite vendor.”

“Leheheht gohoaha—wAH!”

She’d call her the worst if it wasn’t for the shriek she emits as Yanfei’s hands hook under her thighs and pulls her straight out of the seat; her head swings back only to be caught by a gentle hand before she hits the table. Yanfei pants, hair splayed around the countertop, eyes stuck on her ceiling (did she always have that crack there? Was that water damage?) before looking down to Yelan hovering above her hips. She shivers, scotting away, but Yelan’s hands rooted to her hips keeps her from absconding.

“Hehehe… come on,” Yanfei bargains, swallowing as Yelan’s nails tap on her stomach. “Let’s have the youtiao before it gets cold.”

“You can heat it back up again, can’t you?” Yelan coos, nuzzling her stomach. Her blue hair drags along the surface as she moves, spiraling the scales along Yanfei’s ribs and she giggles. “I just want to have a quick snack first.”

“S-snack? No, YelAHAHAHAHAN PLEAHAHAHASE!”

Her horns do bang against the table, the sound loud but no louder than the screech of her laughter as Yelan holds her down, lips vibrating as she blows raspberry after raspberry against her navel. Yanfei shouts, squirming, screaming, her legs kicking wildly in the air as incoherent pleas escape her with every shockwave running through her body, but the mischief glistening in Yelan’s eyes promises no quarter. It tickles so much, a vibration down to her core, and when she tries to beg for a break it dissipates into wild giggles until—

Clang!

Yanfei gasps, jolting, as Yelan’s body flanks her entirely. She’s flush between her body and the table, shivering with residual giggles, as Yelan’s shoulders blanket both sides of her head. A moment passes, then another, and it’s only when it’s clear that no intruder is in the house that Yelan relents with a sigh and pecks her cheek.

“You okay?”

“Yehehe,” she chuckles, leaning up and kissing Yelan on the lips. Her girlfriend smiles into it, the slant of her lips inviting, and she kisses her again. “What was that?”

Yelan snorts. “See for yourself.”

That’s never good. Yelan climbs off her with an outstretched hand before hauling Yanfei upwards against her chest. She points to a metal bowl on the floor, bag of youtiao fallen out of it, and teases. “You knocked that off with your squirming.”

Oops. Did she? Yanfei flushes, trying to picture herself laughing on the table, desperate to escape Yelan’s evil tickly mouth. Yeah, okay, she probably did it. Wait. “Hey! Who’s the reason for my squirming, hm?”

“Guilty as charged,” Yelan says. She bends down to deliver another kiss to Yanfei’s temple, then once more on her horn. Yanfei shifts, pleased, when Yelan pulls her up and delivers another on her lips. If this was the reward for catching guilty criminals, Yanfei would never retire. “Come on, I want breakfast. Someone kept me up all night and now I’m starving.”

Yanfei’s eyes narrow. “What happened to your snack?”

“Wasn’t enough,” Yelan says. “Unless it wants some more?”

She squeaks, ducking away to grab the metal bowl. “Nope! Get the soymilk, will you?”

Yelan’s chuckle echoes in the room, fond, as her hand graces Yanfei’s horns with a gentle tap. Pyro gathers along her fingers and it’s only a minute until the youtiao are crispy once more; she sets them on the table, rearranging the chairs, only to pause at the sound of a hum. She looks up, staring now, as Yelan traverses her kitchen with ease: she could arrange it with her eyes closed by now, familiar, the pop of her cabinets opening matched with the clatter of cups and cutlery, glass seasoning boxes and bamboo mats. Yelan’s hum is low, comfortable, and as she gets on her tip toes to reach the top shelf, her tunic flutters over her stomach.

Yanfei sighs.

“I love your stomach window.”

Yelan laughs. The soymilk spills slightly over the glass cup, and she cleans it with a smile. “I love yours too.”

[timelessbian]

cannot believe i have to just go about my life like a normal person after this i fear i need 3-5 business days to process my thoughts and recover!!

[grimmweepers]

gonna be a bit grumpy at work bc of my interrupted sleep and my choosing to sleep in (which means i have to rush to get ready and i hate rushing) >:| >:|

but happy monday regardless

[raayllum]

Callum took her by the shoulders, anchoring her to him, and she looked at him, a tightness in her chest that had to rival his. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “It was my choice.” “I don’t understand,” she said quietly. He shook his head at her again, like he knew she didn’t. “And knowing what I know now,” Callum said grimly, a hand over his heart—where the dark magic would never entirely leave him, even if his love for her had; in that way, anyway—where Aaravos’ claws had sunk into him, and Rayla looked away in shame. It was her fault. “I wouldn’t make a different choice.” Her head snapped up. “What?” “I would do it all over again,” he said. “The dreams, the drowning. Even if you still left me. Even if you never came back. Because it was you or me that day and goddammit, Rayla, you don’t always have to lay yourself down for other people. I’m allowed to protect you—I want to protect you. To worry about you, to care about you. I can choose to risk myself for you. I needed you then and I need you now.” “Callum—” “If things go wrong, do you know why I want you to be the one to kill me?” he said, taking her hands, and she let him. It didn’t feel quite like weakness, even if it was tentative and new, and still so scary. “I know whatever reason it is can’t be good enough.”

—this fall just might kill me

[eddiemunsonsmum]

Just saw this comment on a story posted a month ago.

*cries in Eddie Munson Solo Series no one wanted to read, interact with or request for*

No shade to the person that commented this on their own fic if you recognize it. It's not their fault. I'm not mad at them. More crying in the tags.

[bulletbilltime]

Just Breathe

Did some doodle fanart for @kakita-shisumo's Bookstore Max AU, more specifically a scene from Breathe! It's such a heartbreaking series in some ways, but also cute in others, especially the fic I linked! Highly recommended read!

[wrongcaitlyn]

if there is no update this weekend blame my ap lang teacher

[skitskatdacat63]

I meant to write more for a pt 2 lore post earlier but didn't end up doing so, so pls take these AU sketches(Mark & Jense and then some assorted sketchies)

[scionshtola]

i wish i had somewhere to write that was not my bed

[pynkhues]

https://www.tumblr.com/pynkhues/769443369506275328/i-actually-wouldnt-agree-that-louis-was-a-strict?source=share

This reminds me that I would really really really reallly really really really reallllly love to read your version of Louis and Lestat having full-on penetrative sex (lol I always feel oddly clinical putting it like that) for the first time post-reunion, preferably--since you write it so so brilliantly and we don't have enough of it in fic--with bottom Lestat.

It’s definitely on the list for the the Spell ‘verse, anon! It’s just a matter of when I get to it ☺️

[optiwashere]

touching ten, Asheera and Shadowheart

Ooooh I was secretly hoping someone would send this one in... Thanks for the request, anon! 💜

Breaky time for me once more. I should be back later to fill in the prompts that are left!

---

Touching 10 (spooning at night) feat. my half-orc trans fem OC whom I love deeply. CW for some fingering smut because we embrace joy here.

The unsubtle grinding behind Shadowheart caught her from the brink of sleep, arms wrapped around her chest drifting up.

"Awake?" she muttered.

Asheera's hand answered by palming her bare breast atop their bed in the suites of the Elfsong. All of Shadowheart could fit just against her chest, curled up into her lover's body. She nestled back, trying to shift herself in rhythm with Asheera's movements.

"Are you actually awake or is this some nocturnal moment?" Shadowheart asked.

Asheera chuckled against the back of her head. "Think I gave myself away there?"

"Something else might have given you away." Shadowheart shifted herself up, brushing the curves of her lower back along Asheera's half-hard length. "Want me to...?"

"No. Can't really. Grind feels good." Asheera kissed the back of her head, her careful palming of Shadowheart's chest dipping down her stomach. "Just want to feel you."

"I think that's a reasonable arrangement," Shadowheart breathed as fingertips played at her bush.

Neither of them saw a need to sleep in clothing anymore. Not when it was this warm at night. It was pleasant, freeing even. Better was the fact that Asheera could slide two fingers down through hair, the arch at the apex lingering against the flesh hiding her clit. Two fingers on either side of her.

Massaging her lips gently, working her slowly into breathy little moans. Comfortable shapes that didn't ruin her, not like their hardest nights, but instead molded a pleasant heat in her chest that dripped down to her core.

Her cunt begged for those fingers after only a few minutes of kisses on the back of her neck. A touch to her breast. Asheera, despite what she said, continued stroking herself on the curve of Shadowheart's back.

"Feel good?" she asked breathily.

"Always," Asheera muttered. Her fingers parted Shadowheart's lips. "Feel good?"

"Yes." Shadowheart had to force her eyes closed as two huge, long, gargantuan, perfect fingers slid into her. "Gods, yes."

"Love when you're like this."

Shadowheart meant to answer in kind, but Asheera's fingers curled up and against the sensitive wall that jolted Shadowheart's legs awake. Nerves thought dormant flared to life instantly. Joined by a growl and a tusk across the back of her neck, Asheera's palm dragged across her clit now unhidden, budding with heat.

The repetitive, simple strokes of fingers and palm forced Shadowheart deeper into Asheera's back. So deep she thought they'd join together. Whether Asheera found some release, Shadowheart didn't care.

She was too busy flexing muscles, tightening around Asheera. Easy circles and curls of those fingers scored her deep. Caused her to clench without thinking. Every inch of her body hungered for palm and fingers. Two that became three, stretching her wide enough to cry out.

Between moans, Shadowheart tried to speak. "If you don't... I'll kill you in your sleep."

"If I don't what, love?" asked a gruff, husky Asheera. Sleep cut her voice to stone.

"Make me," Shadowheart breathed, "come."

Three fingers answered without a voice to match. One palm brushed her in sync with the rhythm that was crippling her thoughts. Breaking her to pieces.

Turning her into a wet mess that wanted more.

Needed more.

Needed everything until stars flashed behind her eyes, rolled back into her head, and her entire body buzzed until it was numb. Numb, overly sensitive, and desperate for those fingers to stay inside.

More.

[zappedbyzabka]

Yall, I know I’m already behind but if you got any omega Johnny hcs/thoughts/ideas that you’ve been keeping to yourself and want to drop it into my dms/inbox/share in general I would be so stoked to hear them

[sorryimananti-romantic]

nothing like drinking coke in the middle of the night, putting on an angsty spotify playlist, only the light of the lamp in my room as i work on my thesis functioning on 5 hours of sleep from the prev night, being so physically tired bc i had a busy day, telling myself that the end is so, so near.