#wip: wre

[ivonhart]

love and war | wrecker x fem twi'lek!reader

— chapter three

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cross posted on ao3

gif credit: @dreamswithghosts

summary: The love you shared was one of wide smiles and flushed cheeks. The love that made your heart grow twofold to the point it ached. The love that made one believe in soulmates. But with this love came war. War to survive in such a harsh world. War to ensure that the light of love would not be snuffed out by the growing darkness throughout the galaxy. War to simply…find peace.

It had been the middle of the day, almost two or three months since they first came to Pabu, when you saw Wrecker scurry his way towards your shop with a wide smile. “He’s here!” Was all that left his mouth before he took you by your hand and pulled you towards the top of the island.

You followed with loud giggles at his excitement. The previous night, Wrecker spoke about his brother, Echo, who sent them a com saying he was going to come to Pabu. You knew how much Wrecker loved his brothers, but seeing first hand how excited he was to see Echo again made your heart swell. “Slow down, Wrecker!” You said in between laughs. “I can only go so fast!”

When you finally reached the summit you saw Omega in the arms of a clone that sported cybernetic parts. But, his most noticeable feature was his ice-white skin and slightly sunken face. Years of trauma from the war were etched into his body till the end of time…yet he still held a small smile as he embraced the young girl. “ECHO!” Wrecker's booming voice almost shook the earth and in a split second, Echo was lifted from the ground in a bear hug whilst Wrecker laughed.

You ruffed Omega’s hair as you walked past her towards the two clones with a large smile. “Welcome to Pabu, Echo.” You said while you watched Wrecker put him down so he could greet you.

The pale clone turned to you with a small, polite smile. “So you’re the one Wrecker kept messaging me about.” A sudden cough escaped Wrecker’s mouth as he looked towards his brother with wide eyes and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of your mouth. “I must say…you are much prettier than he described.”

“Alright, Echo! We have stuff to discuss, right?” Wrecker shouted with a nervous tone, slapping his large hands together as he spoke. You smiled at Echo who sent a knowing wink your way before the clones followed Tech. Your cheeks burning hotter than the Pabu sun as they did.

-

That night Hunter and Echo watched as Wrecker chased Omega and Lyana around the island's main tree at the top of the mountain. Even with Hunter speaking to Echo, the former ARC trooper saw the way your eyes never failed to leave Wrecker’s figure as he ran around the tree you sat at the base of.

“So…what’s going on with Wrecker and the Twi’lek?” Hunter couldn’t help the soft chuckle that left his mouth at the sudden topic change. The clone followed Echo’s eye line to see you now hovering over their brother after he face planted right in front of you.

Even from the distance they could hear your sweet giggles as you checked if he was alright. “It’s safe to say they are both smitten with each other. She’s good for him and I have a feeling he’s good for her.” Echo hummed in understanding before they got the comm from Tech.

You felt as though you weren’t able to breathe from how hard you were laughing. Just moments ago, as Wrecker rounded the tree for the millionth time, his foot caught on one of the large roots which resulted in the large man to tumble right in front of you. You could’ve swore a small dust cloud puffed around him at the impact. “W-Wre-Wrecker…”

Your words came out between a fit of giggles as the man rolled himself over with a large huff. Both Omega and Lyana pulled at parts of his armor to help him in the process. Loud giggles leaving their lips as they did. You couldn’t even sit up straight anymore from the severity of your laughter, causing you to fall into the tree as tears filled your eyes.

The whole time during this, Wrecker never took his eyes off you. It was as if he was trying to engrave the scene before him into his memory. The woman he’s grown so enamored with…unable to speak due to the joy he brought her. It created a feeling in his chest he would constantly strive to feel again each and everyday till that moment on. Almost a sense of pride that he was able to make you so happy.

After a minute or so you were finally able to calm down and sat up once more to look back down at Wrecker, who was still on his back with Omega and Lyana sitting close by, talking amongst themselves now. “Are you okay?” You asked with a bright smile. The man simply hummed with a smile that matched yours. “I’m always okay with you.”

Heat exploded across your cheeks as you dropped your head to the side, shielding your eyes with your head-tails in the process. Unbeknownst to you, one of your lekku tips was inching its way towards Wrecker fingers that laid mere inches from your own hand. The sudden call to Wrecker from Hunter popped the bubble of tranquility the two of you found yourselves in, causing your lekku to curl away.

Omega was already rushing her way towards her big brother whilst Lyana bid farewell for the night. With a quick clearing of Wrecker’s throat he shot up to his feet before helping you stand. Wrecker's large hand engulfed your smaller one as he helped you rise. He stared deep into your eyes as he spoke. “I’ll be right back.”

-

After some time you saw Wrecker and Hunter make their way over to you. The warmth you felt in your stomach dropped at the uneasy expression they held. “Is everything okay?” You asked with a lump already forming in your throat. “We need to ask you a favor.” Hunter started. “We need you to watch Omega for us while we are away.”

That’s when the Sergeant explained that they got a lead to where their brother, Crosshair, was being held along with many other clones. You remember Wrecker speaking of Crosshair during your many nights on the beach and you knew there was no way to have him stay. And the same went with Omega.

“Hunter…you and I both know that Omega would never stay behind. Crosshair is her brother too and I bet she would find a way to follow you even if it meant stealing Phee’s ship.” A sad laugh left Hunter’s mouth at the idea of Omega doing such a thing…but knowing that she wouldn’t be keen on staying out of harm's way bore a heavy weight.

A few seconds passed before the man sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I just…” Hunter ran his hand down his face before putting it on his hip. “I want her to be safe.” An understanding smile graced your lips as you touched his shoulder. “She’s safest with you. And besides, Pabu will be here when all of you come back.” You had to keep your composer as you spoke to Hunter.

The knowledge that they would be leaving caused tears to form in your eyes and your chest to tighten. You didn’t want them to go. The man softly nodded knowing there was really no other way. Omega would find a way to come along one way or another and having her close meant he could keep a better eye on her. With a soft farewell, the Sergeant turned on his heel, leaving you and Wrecker alone.

You pulled one lekku over your shoulder and dropped your head after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. The tears burning your eyes. Neither of you were able to find the right words you longed to say. After months and months of time side by side the idea of being separated for Marker knows how long made the air heavy with sorrow.

The moment Wrecker softly said your name you had wrapped your arms around his midsection in a desperate attempt to stay close. “Promise me you’ll come back. Even if you don’t believe it…promise me.” Your words were strained as the tears finally began to fall. Wrecker was quick to wrap you in his arms with quiet sniffs.

“I promise…cyar’ika.” The mando that passed his lips forced a cry to fall past yours, knowing you might not hear his voice ever again. Your nails scratched against his armor as you clung to him. “Please don’t go.” It  was unfair to ask him of that…you knew it, but the words ripped its way out of your throat without resistance.

Wrecker pulled back slightly and cupped your chin, softly forcing your eyes to meet his. Tear lines ran down the color of your skin that became his favorite. From the delicate patterns that decorated your head-tails to the small wrinkles that formed around your mouth engraved themselves into the clone’s mind since the moment he met you.

Even if he woke up with no sight he would still be able to see you. You. You. You. You engulfed every fiber of his being and now, as he gazed into your tear-filled eyes, he realized what love felt like. Not just any love. The love that was all consuming.

All he felt was you. All he wanted to feel was you. From the deepest part of his heart to the depths of his very soul he loved you. But those three words lodged themselves in his throat as he caressed your skin. It would be too cruel to utter them so…instead, Wrecker chose to brush a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth.

Sealing the words inside his soul until he would be able to say them. “I’ll be right back.” The words he spoke not even hours before brushed against your skin as he peeled away. Knowing that if he spent any longer in your arms he would abandon his brother once more.

[mehbzz]

Check Up

I'm tagging @angrelysimpping because i'm pretty sure the whole drug AU and Whit/Harper/Wren are brothers idea started on their blog. I've had this sitting in my wips for ages, and need to get rid of it! Not perfect and not proof read, no real ending either.

M!Whitney x M!Wren x F!Reader M!Harper x F!Reader

A PWP check in with your brothers.

18+ INCEST, Dub con, hint of medical kink, a little age play

“Dr. Harper is ready for you honey.”

Your head perks up, the words pulling you out from your half-asleep daze. You’d been waiting for nearly an hour, no doubt mostly as punishment for avoiding him for the past 2 weeks.

“Thank you.” You follow the smiling nurse down the long, twisting hallway into an exam room that you’re pretty sure is farther away than last time. 

“No parent with you?” She looks at you with a sympathetic smile. She must be new, you think, makes you wonder if she actually knows who you are.

“My brother is outside,” You gesture backwards pointlessly, she’s not looking at you, her interest in you gone as she eyes her watch. “He doesn’t like hospitals.”

“Not many people do honey. Doctor will be with you shortly.”

You nod at the dismissal but she doesn’t look at you again, and your smile fades when she closes the door behind her. The butterflies in your stomach multiplying as you stand in the middle of the room. Harper’s desk is cluttered as usual, and there’s a small framed photo of you that you look away from quickly once you register exactly what it’s a photo of. The exam table sits just to the side of his desk, your heart being to race as you take note of the fresh lining on it, the way the stirrups seem to taunt you.

“Hello angel,” Harper clears his throat, and you look up, startled. You hadn’t heard him come in and feel a little shaken to see him nonchalantly standing there with a medical gown in his arms. “Put this on for me and we can begin.”

 “I thought this was a therapy session?” You’re being defensive already, forgetting your promise to Wren that you’d behave, that you wouldn’t give Harper even the tiniest of reasons to have you stay.

He’s smiling at you, a patronising soft smile. The kind that makes you feel like you’re 10 years old again. It makes you want to stamp your foot and tell him no. 

“You have missed two of our scheduled appointments; I feel it would be in your best interest to have a full physical.”  He leaves no room for argument, and you know you shouldn’t but you try anyway.

 “I don’t think-,”

“Wre-, your guardian, signed the permission slip so what you think doesn’t really matter right now.” He cuts you off, the way he adjusts his glasses was always a tell tale sign of his irritation so you bite your tongue despite the sting of betrayal. You know that there’s no point in protesting. The quicker you submit the quicker you’ll be out of here. He holds out his arm, the gown folded neatly in his hand. “There’s no need to tie it up.”

You take the gown and pause, but he doesn’t turn away. You nod meekly refusing to meet his eye as you strip down to your underwear, pulling on the gown as quick as you can. screwing your clothes into a ball and dropping  them onto the chair in front of his desk.

He tuts at you, reaching out to pick them up and fold them for you, a gesture that has some half formed memory tugging at the back of your mind.

“Underwear too. Then sit on the bed for me.”

He does look away this time, picking up what you presume is your medical file. He reads over it as you sit awkwardly on the edge of the exam table, humming and nodding before looking up at you. “It’s been brought to my attention that you’ve been suffering from mood swings? Have you been-,”

“I’ve been taking the pills.” It’s hard not to let your frustration show, but your medication was always the first thing he asked you about.

His eyes narrow at your interruption.

“Pills I have prescribed you or pills your guardian has been giving you?”

You shrug, a little annoyed with his reluctance to call Wren by his name. Wren had been giving you pills every morning, from the bottle Harper had prescribed you on your last visit, but you guess you couldn’t really be sure.

“I’d prefer if you answered verbally angel, I’m not a mind reader.” Harper raked his gaze over you slowly. “Have you lost weight?”

You shake your head but stop when you see the irritated twitch of his brow. “I don’t think so.”

He nods, pulling a stethoscope from the first drawer in his desk. He motions for you to sit up straight as he opens the back of your gown wider, and you reluctantly do so, flinching slightly when the cold metal pressed against your back. “Are you not happy to see me? I’ve missed you.”

“I-, I am, I missed you too.” It doesn’t sound very sincere, but you hope he knows you mean it. You have missed him, but being with Harper was unlike being with Wren or Whitney, there was always an undercurrent of something that made you uncomfortable in his presence.

“How’s school? Keep still please, you’re squirming.” He moved the stethoscope lower, one hand dropping to rest on your hip and sliding under the side of your gown to press against your stomach to keep you still, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast. “Breathe in.”

You drew a deep breath, conscious of the way his thumb pressed a little firmer into your breast at the movement. “Are you having trouble focusing? I asked how school is.”

“It’s fine.”

“I can’t help you if you lie to me,” He dropped the stethoscope back onto his desk as he moves back in front of you. “I’ve heard you’ve been skipping classes, swimming in particular.”

“Not really skipping, just once or twice maybe.”

“Why is that? Not self conscious I hope,” He lets his gaze sweep over you again. “you may have lost some weight but you still have a beautiful figure.”

There’s a pause, like he’s expecting you to reply but when you don’t he sighs. “How many alcoholic drinks do you have in a week?”

“One maybe two.”

“Are you smoking?”

“No.”

“No?” He clearly doesn’t believe you and you’re not surprised, both Wren and Whitney were heavy smokers.

“Open up,” He says and you do, as he shines a light into your mouth, cupping the side of your throat with one hand. “Hmmm, you have some bruising in here, does it hurt?”

“A little.” You flinch, feeling your face heating in embarrassment as he moves away to write something on his clipboard.

“Whitney I presume? He always was the careless one.” He looks at you and you drop your gaze. Refusing to meet his eye as he continues looking you over with touches and pokes that you’re sure were not in any way telling him anything useful about your physical health.

“Harper -,” You blurt his name before you can stop yourself and he stops a rather painful exploration of a bruise on your collarbone to look up at you seemingly surprised. “I-,”

He says your name softly as he turns back to his cabinet. “Relax angel, I’m nearly done.”

You don’t say anything, it’s pointless but not for the first time in these visits you eye the door, wondering if you could make a run for it. Would Wren take you home or escort you back into Harper’s office? You were never sure and not yet been brave enough to find out.

"hmmm," He clicks his tongue. “Mood swings.” He whispers it half under his breath. “Perhaps you should stay a few days, maybe some hypnotherapy to help you cope with some of this stress you’re evidently under.”

“What? No.”  Wren promised. Wren promised you wouldn’t have to stay.

“I’m only trying to help you.”

“I’m not, I just don’t think I need to stay, there’s no need,-,” You draw in a quick breath, you’re babbling but you can’t stay. You can’t.

“Breathe angel.” He rests a hand on your knee. “I just want to help you. Despite what the rest of our little family seem to think I want.” You shake your head and his hand moves a little higher. “Can you use your words for me? Are they looking after you?” His tone has shifted in to that condescending baby voice he likes to use, the one that has hazy memories of your childhood bedroom springing to the front of your mind along with a fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach. “Do you want to stay? I will take care of you.”

“No,” You feel sick, the sharp sour tang of bile at the back of your throat. “Thank you. They-,” You frown at yourself. “I can take care of myself.”

His thumb strokes your skin. “Always so quick to grow up. Do you remember-,” He blinks stopping himself with a small smile.  “Do you remember how you got this?” He traced the faint scar over your knee, a look of adoration across his face. You swallow hard, trying not to flinch away from him as you waited for his hands to inevitably wander. “Perhaps we should revisit some of your childhood treatments? They were always effective in relieving you of your… moods.”

His nail presses into the scar, then slides up your thigh. You part your legs automatically and he murmurs praise as his hand slides up under the hem of the gown to disappear between your legs.

“Even after all these years you still have such a wonderful reaction to my touch,” He was losing his Doctor persona quicker than normal, perhaps your prolonged absence

had affected him more than you thought. “Your breathing becomes shallow, your pupils dilate,” He raises a hand, trailing one finger down your neck to pull the front of your gown until it slid down your shoulders, his gaze dropping to your chest. “and you flush beautifully.”

His fingertips brushed your slit, and you knew he could feel how wet you were. “This was always my favourite reaction of course.”

You sighed as his fingers stroked you, feather-light touches stroking up until they circled your clit, he was always so gentle with you.

“Tell me you want me,” he whispers, his eyes boring into you.

“I do,” It’s an unsure half whisper, you don’t know if you do or not, it’s apart of your life, always has been. “Harper.”

“Say it Angel,” he urges. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” You start, lump forming in your throat as you hold his gaze.

“Do you love me?” he whispers.

“Yes.”

he circles idle fingers across your slit before just barely pushing in, thumb sliding across your clit. It's almost too much, the way his fingers crook and bend, slow and purposeful as you moan.

“Who fucked you this morning?” His voice, strained and breathless along with his question had you tensing, his whole body shuddering as you inadvertently tightened around his fingers.

“Was is Whitney? He always was so impatient to be inside you. Is that why you’re so sensitive? Did he leave you wanting?” Harper didn’t slow, forcing his fingers to curl against your tightening walls. “I do miss him. Perhaps I should schedule a family session? You two were always my favourite patients.”

You could do little more than whine as he curled his fingers more and shifted his thumb to press harder against your clit.  

“You’re doing so well, sweet thing. A little more now,” Harper was panting, soft little grunts escaping him and his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned in, cheek resting against yours. “You can cum, Angel.”

You shook your head, a weak denial as you cried out, your hands curling into the paper mat and tearing it into shreds.  Your orgasm roll a slow roll of pleasure that has your toes curling and your eyes squeezing shut. He keeps moving his fingers, peppering soft kisses over your cheekbone and forehead, only stopping when tears start to prick at your eyes, fingers slipping wetly out of your cunt.

“Look at me.”

You tried to pull yourself together, swallowing thickly and fighting back tears as your thighs trembled beneath his touch.

“Look at me Angel, please.” His voice was gentle as you opened your eyes slowly, squinting a little against the bright light as you took in the flush on his cheeks and the smile on his lips.

 “Good girl,” His hand is still stroking up and down your leg, the gesture grounding and soothing in one. “Do you need a moment?”

You nod, and he sits, pulling you gently forward and giving you no choice but to awkwardly slide off the bed and into his lap.

“You can take as long as you need,” his hand runs through your hair and you can’t help but melt into him. “You’re safe here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” He pauses and you feel guilty at the hurt in his voice. It makes you curl a little more into his side. “It’s not your fault. I know the things they say about me.”

The apology slips from your lips again and he just hums softly in response. You feel fuzzy, warm, as his nails scratch over your scalp gently.

“You’ll come see me next week wont you?”

You nod, too lulled and calmed by his affection to really register what you’re agreeing too.

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

Arriving home had been an immediate adrenaline shock to your relaxed sedate mood. Not even two steps in the door before Wren had tugged you into a frantic kiss, and only as far as the kitchen before he was tugging at your clothes.

Your lips tremble, parting ever so slightly as your body involuntarily arches toward Wren. He pushes you further back against the table, forcing you to prop yourself up on your elbows as his fingers trace a path up your thigh, a soft whine escaping you as he finally dips between your legs, almost mirroring Harper’s previous touch.

 “You were a good girl for Harper then?”

The question was punctuated with the heel of his palm pressing into your clit as two fingers pushed into your soaked cunt, going still when he was knuckle deep. “You were in there for ages.”

“It wasn’t,” you whine, frustrated at his lack of movement.”I-, please move.”

Whitney tsks. The noise startling you, You’d forgotten he was sitting there. “Lazy little slut aren’t you?” Whitney cups the side of your face, making sure you face him.

You opened your mouth reflexively, ready to tell him that you were sorry, but his thumb slipped past your lips before you could make a sound, pressing against the flat of your tongue. He pushes until you gag, pulling back with a grin.

Wren takes pity on you, free hand moving to his belt, and you watch as he pulls himself out. You feel exposed, vulnerable. The only one naked, spread wide on the the kitchen room table.

Wren slides his cock back and forth against you, coating himself with your arousal. Your hips buck impatiently, seeking more friction.

"Look at you, so desperate for my cock. Were you desperate for Harper’s too?”

 Whitney huffs, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed and Wren’s smirk grows. “Cute when he’s jealous isn’t he?”

“Fuck you.”

“Later.” Wren winks at him as he pushes into you and you let out a cry as you take in his length. His immediate pace catches you off guard, fingers scrambling at the edge of the table as he moves, your breath caught in your throat. The fabric of his jeans irritates the inside of your thighs, his belt buckle hitting you with every thrust, and although it feels good you know this is about them reclaiming you, not your pleasure.

Whitney seemingly grown bored of waiting, slots a hand into your hair and tugging you round enough to press his lips against yours. 

“Slut.” He mutters as he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his. 

 He presses a hand to Wren’s shoulder and he stills.

Whitney waits until you stop squirming, one hand slipping down between you and Wren to press against your clit.

He waits, and you swallow your pride. “Please.”

Whitney’s fingers move to your surprise. He keeps one hand against Wren’s shoulder, fingers playing idly with the ends of his hair as the other dances across your clit, fingers moving in slow, lazy circles. One more breathy gasp for forgiveness has Whitney seemingly have mercy on you, pushing his fingers harder against you as he presses his lips roughly to Wren’s. The kiss draws a surprised moan from your older brother, and he starts to rock his hips into you again, his movements jerky and erratic, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs and then suddenly he stills and you’re surprised by a stream of heat filling you as Wren finishes, thick ropes of himself lining your walls. 

You try not to fidget, to behave as they finally break their kiss. Mumbling something to each other as Wren pulls out and Whitney takes his place, his hands on your thighs to keep you spread open. 

 He kisses your stomach before moving over to your thighs. He nips at your skin and you brace yourself for him to bite you harder, like he usually does, but he doesn’t, his lips pressing gently against your cunt instead. His tongue laps at you, dipping inside you with a low moan and your eyelids flutter as you look down at him, only dimly aware of the way Wren moves, positioning himself behind Whitney. He caught your eye as his arms snaked around Whitney’s waist. There was the distant, muffled sound of fabric rustling, and then Whitney jerks and hisses but he doesn’t stop. His fingers spreading your folds apart as he sucks on your clit.

You can’t see it, but you can imagine it, you’ve seen it enough times. Wren’s soft, slim fingers wrapping around the head of Whitney’s cock, stroking him. The way Wren’s thumb swirls over the head, cock leaking and throbbing as he starts a steady rhythm.

Wren refuses to break eye contact with you as he strokes him, the image and the feel of Whitney’s lapping at your clit has the tension building again, the heat coiling deep in your core.

You're not going to last long. You can feel Whitney’s breath hitch as Wren leans in closer to press a soft sucking kiss to his jaw. Then another pressed just under his ear. Whitney shudders, an awkward jolt of his hips and Wren sighs. “Good boy.”

Whitney moans against your cunt and the vibration is enough to push you over the edge too and you come undone with a strangled cry. He pushes away from you before you want him to and slumps down into the chair, pants still undone and his cock half hard against his denim clad thigh.

You’re trembling, thighs shaking as Wren helps you sit upright,  one hand resting on your waist to hold you steady on the edge of the table as two fingers are held up to your mouth and you accept them without hesitation.

[thelaundrybitch]

As a fan that’s literally in the shadows anticipating your wondrous WIPs I figured it’d be ok to poke you 🥸🫥🙃

40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

I’d also like to make a personal request and beg for another snippet 👀 (optional)

HELLLLOOOO! Thank you for the ask!

And I'm so sorry this is hella long, I got a bit excitable while answering LOL

~~Fun and a sneak peek of a bit of Tethered under the cut~~

40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

AHHHHH!!!!

The work isn't posted yet! 😩

*cries in tactical Basilio and Jehannet*

SO! I would say anything with my tactical turts in it.

You can find the fic and the original concept art HERE

55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers'/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

God this is such a hard question wtf

Ok, I would have to say that my favorite character to write for is adult Michelangelo

And funny enough, I have exactly ONE fic written for him - The Snow Storm.

I enjoy writing for him because I think he's an absolute wild card. He's usually portrayed as that carefree, dumbed-down, himbo who needs his big brothers to look out for him.

And that just doesn't feel right to me.

Honestly, I have a decent amount written for him under wraps in Tethered, and I am very excited for everyone to fully meet my Tactical Mike because I think he's gonna blow some panties to smithereens.

💥💥💥🩲💥💥💥

However, if you are looking for some of my Tactical Mike, I gave a small taste of him through Little Blue Hearts, and again in First Kiss Head Canons.

ALTERNATIVELY

I love writing for/as *reader* because I highly enjoy all the internal dialogue I can add and the sassy shenanigans that come about when interacting with the turts.

I’d also like to make a personal request and beg for another snippet 👀 (optional)

LMAO! For you? Absolutely.

OK, without giving TOO much away...

The MC is a "jumper" when she dreams, and sometimes, when she makes it to the turts, she isn't all there. She's kinda on autopilot. You know. Reptilian brain. Ish.

Anyway, here, have a good laugh at poor Leo's expense.

Again. It's a bit messy but try and enjoy the shenanigans.

💙💙💙💙💙

When I finally gain some lucidity, I'm sitting in Basilio's lap, my head on his shoulder.

👀👀👀

We're in the movie room

I lift my head and I'm now looking around confused™

Until my eyes land on Leo, who is beside us, and J and Don, who are sitting on the floor.

"Uhh…"

I look back at Basilio, and he studies my face for a moment with a teasing smirk on his face while his arms are comfortably around my middle, our fingers intertwined -to the best of our ability- with one hand.

I glance down as Don turns and looks up at us.

"Did I miss something?" I ask, and all four boys chuckle.

"I'd say so," teases J, "You wouldn't leave poor Bayz alone all night."

"I wouldn't say poor," Leo mumbles.

I look over at him and he's doing the big pout, arms crossed.

I look at Don, in question.

"Yeah, you got here, and we were all in the lab together, and you went right for Basilio," Don says.

"I was in the kitchen getting a refill on the snack bowl," Leo pouts.

"So I just walked over to Bayz," I say looking at him with a smile, "and attached myself?" 

"Nah, girl. You RAN," emphasizes J with big eyes.

My eyebrows are on the ceiling somewhere.

Don chuckles, "Yep. And he wasn't expecting for it to be him, so you ran and jumped, and knocked him on his ass. It was quite entertaining, actually."

"Then this guy comes in," J says, pointing his thumb at Leo, "sees you on top of Bayz, and has a conniption," he giggles.

"Drops the entire bowl of snacks ALL over the lab floor," continues Don, "and tries to 'help you up'," he says using air quotes.

"AKA he tried to wrestle you out of Bayz's arms, but you weren't having it," J says, biting back more giggles.

My eyes are the size of moons and my face is redder than freshly cooked lobster.

"You clung to me like a baby monkey," Bayz tells me, looking quite pleased with his twin's extreme dismay.

"Then the kisses started," Don says with a smirk.

"WHAT?!" now I'm REALLY mortified.

"Don't worry, you only got a couple in before Don intervened. The second he called you Sunshine, you scrambled off of Bayz, jumped on Don, and started to undress him," J is in a fit of giggles now.

JFC. What is wrong with me.

I look at Don, who has a sultry look of satisfaction written across his handsome face.

"So I took you to bed and told these guys we'd meet them in here in about 45 minutes," he husks with a wink.

"Then this guy," J accuses Leo again, "complains, what?! What the fuck are you doing for 45 minutes?! It doesn't take that long!"

"And Don looks him dead in the eye and says, It does if you're doing it right, and slams the bedroom door," chuckles Basilio.

☠️☠️☠️

"And it took almost two hours. So he must've done a really good job," says J with a grin so big it might split his face in half.

"If you don't remember, I can show you what we did," Don says with that flirty Don look.

💙💙💙💙💙

Hope you enjoyed the snippet! You can Find out more about Basilio HERE and more about J (Jehannet) HERE.

Again, Thank you so much for asking me some questions! I love doing these!

Questions are from this post HERE for anyone else who may want to use it or to ask more questions!

~tags for the sneak peek~

@leosgirl82 @leoandraphssoulmate @eveandtheturtles @ninjaintheshadow @replicasey @scholastic-dragon @justalotoffanfiction @meowph-132

[outlandishwhalesharks]

For @hellcheeranniversaryweek s WIP Wednesday: WIP Amnesty

This is a fantasy AU I originally came up with for the october hellcheer week. It was inspired by the books Uprooted by Naomi Novik and Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones (because Eddie Munson would one thousand percent would run from his real life problems by becoming a wizard in a fantasy dimension lol).

Here's pretty much all I have written for it.

****

Leaves of yellow brown and red flutter down form the trees through her window. This has always been Chrissy's favorite time of year. Fall in the land of Hawkins was gorgeous. At least they were until a few years ago.

She can still remember the first body, the image is seared in her mind. Stumbling through the forest she had come to a clearing when she found it. 

His name was Fred he was the son of the man who ran the printing press. His limbs were broken in unnatural ways and his eyes were gone. The shriek she made brought the entire village to her. 

A hunting party had been made to try and catch the vile person who had committed such a terrible crime. 

It had brought the attention of the king himself, who's palace was just outside of her village. That was how she had first met her betrothed Prince Jason. 

At the same time something else had happned, a small metal shack had showed up on a hill outside of town. It was a structure unlike any other she had ever seen. It disappeared before anyone got the nerve to inspect it. 

And so it went for two years at the same time, the metal shack would should up and then there would be another violent murder. 

Until one year everything changed. Instead of the metal building there was a huge omnious castle that never quiet looked right. Almost like a reflection on water, like it would wade a way at any moment. 

The kings men tried to attack it but there was some kind of barrier aorund sealed with a dark magic no one had seen befoe. Wizards from all over Hawkins came and tried breakit but none availed.

Shortly after the castle appeared a man came into town. He had long wild hair and odd tight paint swith holes inthem. He also wore long robes much longer and fnacier than any other wizard known in the realm. 

He introduced himself as Eddie the Freak. It didnt take long for people to deduce that he was the murder and had place d a curs eon Hawkins. He never denied only offered a better optiont he afflicted chosen. 

The offer he gave was to have a ball, a masquerade each year at his castle. Once there he would pick his chosen for the year and after a week to prepare the chosen would disappear though he promised  they would live and have a happy life.

Most didnt believe him. There wre many rumors about what haplend to the freak's chosen victims. He kept them as sex slaves or just murdered them anyways. But most were too afraid to anger the evil wizard further so they still came to soirees he held, Chrissy included.

***

As much as I love this verse I just don't have it in me to write the whole story it would entail.

(Which FYI Vecna followed Eddie when he found the portal to the fantasy world and has been killing people so Eddie sends his victims to the our world to save them hes just deamatic about it)

[traggalicious]

YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES TOH COULD SO EASILY BE A HORROR THE SEEDS ARE THERE THE WIPS WRE HERE LETS DO IT

Ok guys hear me out...

wittebane found-footage/analog horror shit

(Warning: possibly disturbing images)

Man wouldnt be so cool if we all just made a wittebro horror series together 👀👉👈

[itslmdee]

Tag game: Voted Most Likely

Tag: Voted Most Likely I was tagged for this one by @zmlorenz thank you!

Rules of the Game: This game is originally found here so please do check it out at the original author’s blog! Use your OCs for this game, and tag whoever you want when you're done, OP suggests 5

You're supposed to choose five characters but I picked the most appropriate across my two main WiPs

Characters: Bryony (Sorceress Apprentice) ; Kit (WRE) ; Woods (WRE) ; Raelin (Sorceress Apprentice); El (WRE) ; Carlos (Sorceress Apprentice) ; Emeri (Sorceress Apprentice) ; Naomi (Sorceress Apprentice) ; Romaine (WRE)

Most Likely to be a Poet

Bryony; her love of reading and progression to journaling about her work and beginning to write her own spells would lead itself to writing poetry

Most Likely to Look Good in a Kilt

Kit. He'd certainly think he looked good. He'd certainly be the most likely to wear a kilt.

Most Likely to Get Punched in the Face

Woods. He's one of the antagonists after all.

Most Likely to Drop Everything and Become a Sheep Herder

Raelin, probably, for five minutes until she got bored.

Most Likely to be Found in a Library

Bryony, girl loves books

Most Likely to Sleep Through an Earthquake

Kit.

Most Likely to Steal Food From Other People’s Plates

Definitely Kit. He rarely stops eating.

Most Likely to Cheat on a Test

El, but only if wasn't a big deal.

Most Likely to Say ‘Oops’ After Setting Something on Fire

Kit.

Most Likely to Open an Orphanage

Emeri but in a here have money not actually organising anything. He and Bryony are childfree. They might want to help children in need but not too personally. Now a pet rescue maybe! Or possibly Naomi, maybe more her thing.

Most Likely to Run Off With the Circus

Carlos, he's already an intinerant musician who does odd jobs and seasonal work to make ends meet

Most Likely to Fake Their Own Death

That's an interesting one, El for plot reasons. Romaine would also be up for it.

Most Likely to Die and Haunt Their Friends

Emeri. This was fun and now I’m taken with the idea of Kit in kilt!

tagging: open tag, please do if you want to! Also specifc tags, no pressure: @raevenlywrites, @westwood-tries-to-write @everynextdream, @magic-and-myths, @splinter-cat

[ask-the-non-canon-mercs]

[Welcome to the blog!]

DISCLAIMER :

Due to the nature of this AU, & because this is TF2, there will Dark topics that may be implied or discussed.

All of which will be tagged accordingly with "tw [topic]".

Canonical Typical Violence is also to be expected.

[This Blog will have 2 Mods working on it. We ask you to be patient with us, as both of us have lives to take care of.]

[ howdy! my name's Engie, ah go by They/She/He & a few Neos! I will be talking in purple :] & yes, ah am the bastard that makes too many AUs on the TF2 Engineer.

Mod Engineer - @fandomandangstlover ]

[ "I'M–A PIZZA DELI–A–VIA AND AH'M–A HERE TO–A WRECK–A YO' CHEES-A–WRE–SAZ" Is what I would say! Yo' boy Scout here can be in a whole hecti'c so if yo'ur lookin for a' long chat regarding on questions I'll be right'a here to serve ya' a deluxe! Name's either Scout or Scunt, pick your favourite. Basic stuff, He/Him and don't ya' disrespect mah pally Engie here, playin' it all friendly with yah! I'd be talkin' in red so you'll know whose speakin' through!

Mod Scout - @jrjeremy ]

[RULES] :

Bigotry (Homophobos, Etc.) will not be tolerated. Fuck off.

Please be specific on who you're asking- please. "Yeah what they said! Surely you could go off n' be askin all the questions to my pal but specifically? Nu-uh!"

If we don't wanna answer an ask, it's because it went against the rules and/or it made me or the other person working on this uncomfortable. So. Yeah. "For me however, if it were to go against then perhaps I'd wouldn't be so easy to ignore things! Expect me to be disgusted, –blegh!! ..That is, unless you went waaay too far then you'll know if ye'r haven't gotten an answer from either of us, especially me!"

Not an RP blog. You may talk through the Ask Feature, but any Threads will most likely not be responded to.

[Will ADD MORE IF NEEDED]

[INFO] :

Currently, there are two groups. One is, well, here. & the other is in the RED Engineer's head. The latter are appropriately named "Voices".

The Mercenaries currently available are the Engineer, Scout & Medic. All of which are RED. The others are available, but will not be as active.

The Voices currently existing are Child, Trauma, & Texan Man.

The Voices, as said before, live in the RED Engineer's head. They are there to help the guy out with...stuff.

The BLU Team is there. Not active but they're there. You may ask them stuff as well.

– Eyy, ah'm talkin here! Hehhah! Now primarily if ye'r didn't know and just went all up'a here without knowin' what's goin on, this lil' ol AU is called the "ORIGINAL? AU"! Preetty original, eh'm–a right? Sure sure, ah'm here breakin' the fourth wall, but could yah reeeally blame me? Ask me bout all of this and ah'll won't know a thing yo'r sayin! P.S. To let you fellas on with'a bit of fun, there are soome other AU'S connected to this one!

That's all for now.

[PROFILES] :

Loading... (WIP)

[nagia-pronounced-neijia]

WIP wednesday

Doing two wip Wednesday posts today. I'm blaming @ejunkiet even though it isn't their fault.  Beware, this one is long and spicy.

I was in such a storm that I didn't realize Lycus, Telemachus, and my guards had followed me until I turned the next corner and there was a lot of armed jockeying for position.  I couldn't bring myself to care about any of it.  I was too focused on the sheer, unmitigated gall of Ignacio's plan and just what a terrible person he was.

Lycus slammed my chamber doors shut and barred them.  I didn't think of that as weird.

At least, I didn't think of it as weird until he started stripping his armor.  Off came the surcoat, which he tossed at a corner, and then the breast plate — he was more careful with that — then a layer of mail he treated like gold, and then his padded jack.  Now that he could fully bend over, he pulled the boiled leather plates off his thighs and the greaves off his shins, then stripped his gloves.

He was standing in my chambers wearing nothing more than a dark silk shirt and trousers.  He was fully dressed by modern standards, but it felt like looking at him naked.  He had never, in the weeks I'd known him or the memories of my prior adult life, worn so little near me.  Even in the orphanage, he'd rarely worn only his shirtsleeves; there had always been some kind of coat or vest.

I blinked.  Then, because I was a number of things, and one of them was 'flawed' and another was 'attracted to men,' I looked.  Openly.  A dark curl of hair lay just visible at the bottom of his untied collar.  I fixated a little, imagining the rest, and the thick line that probably started around his stomach and trailed lower.

"Come here," he said, and when I went to him, he reached up to tangle his fingers in my hair and finally, finally kissed me.

It was electric.  He was very straight-forward about it; I'd barely started to kiss back before he was nibbling at my lower lip.  The instant I responded to that, his fingers tightened in my hair and he pressed his tongue to mine.  His mouth tasted like salt and basil; I recognized that from the tooth powder that I used now, too.

God, his lips were soft, and as I sank into the sensation, he pulled me even closer to him.  He managed to disentangle his hands and used one to cup the back of my head while the other wandered down my back — pressing first at the center of my spine, then finding the hollow in my lower back and pushing me there, using it as leverage to pull me as close as he could.

I grabbed his collar and stretched onto my toes, curious and delighted.

It turned out that I had the breath control to outlast him.  He eventually had to pull his head back and inhale harshly through his mouth, like he'd forgotten to use his nose.  His chest actually heaved with the effort.

I let him stay there, but I took the opportunity to run one palm over his arm.  Fucking muscle on top of muscle, I swear.  I'd always known he was big and I'd seen his strength in a number of different ways.  It was a totally different thing to actually put my hands on the source of it.

A better thing.

Lycus grasped me by the shoulders and pulled me back into him, as gentle as he seemed to know how to be.  He leaned his head down again, but this time, he just rested his forehead against mine.

"I could have lost you," he said, so softly that at first I wasn't sure I'd really heard him.

"You didn't."

"I could have.  Fifteen different times — and that was only in the active assassination attempt.  There were other opportunities."

"Wre handled it.  We'll keep handling it."

He pressed another kiss — feverish: heated and aimless and short — against my mouth, and whispered back, "I don't know if I can."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything.  I just chased his mouth with mine, catching him for another kiss.  This time, I bit his lip when he started to return it, and judging by the way one hand immediately dropped to the curve of my ass, the way he opened his mouth a little wider for me, he was very into it when I took charge.  When I pressed into his mouth, he squeezed.

And then we were both breathing heavily.  Lycus moved to untie his cuffs and pull his shirt off.

What we were heading for picked that moment to hit me.  So did my scruples.  Threaten a pregnant woman's execution?  I could do that, apparently, but I couldn't abuse the power I had over the captain of my guard and my oldest friend.

"Are you sure about this?  If you're not, I understand.  You said you can't be ���"

He snorted a bitter laugh.  "I've been compromised from the start.  I'm not going to be less distracted, leaving now.  Just sloppily armored."

That was true.  It made my heart hurt anyway.  I looked away, not sure how to respond.

Lycus reacted by touching his thumb and a finger to my chin, gently making me look back at him.

"What happens next… what would change, if I left now, but lost you tomorrow?  What would my regrets really be?"

"About the same as mine, I think," I said, and stepped forward, into him.  I wrapped my arms around his neck and snuggled in close.  His skin smelled of sweat and, weirdly, lavender.

As he always seemed to, Lycus took the opportunity to pick me up and carry me.  I think he got the same kick out of it that I did, if from the other side of things.  I loved that swooping sensation in my stomach when he lifted me, loved twining my arms around him, loved that feeling of being totally supported.

He was big and he was terrifyingly strong and every single time he carried me, it was like a silent, subtle promise that he would always put all that raw, physical power at my disposal, rather than use it on me.  It was a heady feeling.

He dropped me carefully on what had seemed until now like a uselessly big bed.  He took that moment to pull his shirt off, tossing it away as carelessly as he had the surcoat, before he climbed in with me.  For my part, I took the chance to touch all that exposed olive skin, dancing my fingers from his collar bone to one of his pecs and then sliding lower. I followed the line of thicker, darker hair that started just under his belly button to the waistline of his trousers.

He sucked in a breath — and his stomach — and I laughed.

"Ticklish," I said, but I didn't keep teasing.  Instead, I pulled him down to kiss me, tangling my fingers in his hair, gripping the back of his head.

He kissed me back, biting at my lips, but seemed more interested in reaching around behind me to unfasten the whitewood buttons of my dress.  When he reached the third, he made an indignant noise into my mouth, and I laughed again, half-turning and pulling my hair over my shoulder.

Jesus, my crown was still on my head.  Forget Aquanet; apparently all I needed was a determined maid and a bunch of tiny, jabby hairpins.

While he focused on my dress, I unpinned my hair and underhanded the crown toward the side table like the most valuable frisbee of my life.  It clattered away.

Lycus' hands stilled on my dress for a moment, but then he pressed his lips to the part of my upper back he'd revealed.  It felt strange through my chemise, and he made another annoyed sound.

I stood and tugged the dress off, laying it aside as carefully as he had his mail, and laughed at Lycus' annoyance at my shift and slip.

"Just the chemise and stays after this," I promised.  "And the stockings, unless you want those to stay on."

Lycus gave me a look like he was seriously considering tearing the rest of my clothes off with his teeth.

I couldn't help it.  I laughed again: it was just so purely him.  I pulled my shift and slip off, then waited while he tugged at the laces of my stays.  I heard him muttering curses under his breath at the knots my maid had tied, but with one final jerk he undid them, and I felt the stays loosen.

Lycus tossed them aside like they had personally offended him, then untied the ribbon at the neckline of my chemise and drew it up over my head.

I turned, then, and reached out to cup my hand over his cheek.  I knew the reaction that was coming.  Every man and most of the women I'd ever dated had shared it.

He turned his face into my palm for a moment, surprisingly thick eyelashes shuttering down as he closed his eyes.  When he opened them, I could see the minute his focus zeroed in on my breasts.

He reached up to touch, first stroking then cupping the sides of them.  Then he lifted my breasts in his hands.

I scooted forward, closer to him, and he made a noise of vague approval.  He was one hundred percent focused, and there was no keeping the smile off my face because of how ridiculously, giddily warm he made me feel.

"Lycus," I said, and had to say it again to get his attention back.  I pressed a kiss to his brow, delicate and gentle and over all too soon, and asked, "What comes next… have you done this before?"

He struck me as the kind of man who would have reacted to not being able to have the person he wanted by just not sleeping with anybody.

Lycus stilled for a second, and then said, "Enough to know what I'm about."  He paused, considering, and asked, "Is there some expectation otherwise, in Seattle?"

"Nah, but I think it's easier to talk about, there.  It just would have changed my, like, angle of approach."  I heard the 'like' slip out and wanted to kick myself.  But if he noticed the verbal pause, he didn't seem to care.

Instead, he offered me that damnable, devastating movie star corner-of-his-mouth smile.  "Your angle?"

"You know what," I said, and then thought better of using words at all.  I reached out and pushed on his chest.

Lycus, saint that he was, humored me, falling back to the soft sheets.  I straddled him and reached down to the laces on his trousers.  I wasn't used to dealing with knots there, but it wasn't any worse than button fronts, really, and I'd had plenty of experience getting those off people.

I rolled off him and let him strip them off with a writhing motion that didn't look sexy, but the sheer intimacy and vulnerability of how dumb he looked made it hot.  I put a mental bookmark on that thought to figure out later.

Not even counting the multitude of dick pics I received in Portland and Seattle, I liked to think that I'd seen a fair number of dicks in my day.  Some of them had been meh, some of them had looked more like a technical challenge, and some of them had made my whole brain light up like I'd won a prize.

Lycus' made my mouth go dry.  It wasn't his length that impressed me — whatever the hell it was in inches, he looked proportional considering his height — but the girth.  He was uncut, which looked mildly weird to me, but dear god, he was thick.

My brain got stuck on the word 'thick,' and I lost power of speech.  I possibly lost power of thought.  It took me a full fifteen seconds to manage the words, "Oh god, I want to ride you so bad," and I only got them out because he started to look kind of worried.

He let out a breath.  "I was about to ask if you'd ever —"

"— Yes.  Can we stop talking now, because I really want... "  I made a helpless waving gesture; I was pretty much out of words.

He reached for me.  I put my palms in his for a second, then slid them down his arms and straddled him again.  I watched his teeth bite into his lower lip, out of interest or uncertainty, and leaned forward to kiss him.

I found one question.  "Trust me?"

"Yes," he told me, simple and honest.

I shifted on top of him, lining us up, then slowly, slowly sank down.  I didn't want to go slow.  I felt like I'd been starving for how much and how long I'd craved him and I wanted to feast.  I didn't let myself: I took him in slow inch by slower inch.  The way I had to stretch to take him was the perfect kind of pain.  Shivers rolled down my spine even as it burned so good, like my chest when I was belting a note at the bottom of my tessitura.  At one point I had to stop, and I leaned my head back to suck in a lungful of air.

Lycus actually made a strangled noise in his throat.  His fingers tightened on my skin where he was holding onto my hips.

I breathed out through my nose, a centering breath, and kept going.  I had to stop again when he was all the way inside me.  From the way he'd closed his eyes and his fingers were twitching on my pelvic bones, I could tell he needed the break, too.  We both stayed still, breathing together, in and out in the same rhythm.

I stayed that way until I heard Lycus blow out a ragged sigh, like he was only barely keeping it together.  "Please," he said, "please," and I was ready for it, too.

I rocked my hips.  I was already so soaked, and the feel as we moved back and forth — in and out like our breaths had just mingled — threw any kind of thought out of my head.  Pressure was building low in my stomach and the small of my back.  Second after second of need and pleasure stacked on top of each other, like some part of my body was building a tower.

One of Lycus' hands wandered from my hips to the curve of my ass.  He squeezed, fingers digging into my skin.  I was so close to the edge, pinned so thoroughly by the tightrope it felt like I was walking, so focused on that building tension and the pulse that beat between my thighs, that it didn't even hurt.

I don't know how long we lasted.  It felt like forever.  It felt like two seconds.  But it was so good: so slick, so perfectly fitted, and then one of his hands traveled from my hip to the place where we joined together.

I lost it.  The throbbing pulse found a new beat, the tower tumbled, the tension broke.  I threw back my head and screamed.  I could feel myself twitching around him, tensing and relaxing in a way I couldn't have hoped to control or stop and wouldn't have wanted to, anyway.

My voice bounced and echoed off the stone walls and the high ceilings.  I didn't hear anything Lycus might have said, didn't hear any noise he might have made, when he went over the edge.  I felt him shake underneath me, felt him move inside me and the throb-pulse of his climax.

When I was pretty sure he'd finished, I rolled off and collapsed onto the bed beside him.  I lay there, breathing hard, for about a minute before I rolled onto my side to watch him.  I got to witness him getting his breathing and his face back under control; he was flushed and sweaty and his eyes had gone heavy-lidded.  It was a good look on him.

"That was…"  But I let myself trail off.  There were no words that seemed to fit.  'Good' was too small; 'amazing' seemed glib.  I shook my head.

Lycus rolled onto his side, too, and I saw his dazed expression as he watched me.  He didn't have words, either.  I traced his features with my eyes, pleased just to have a chance to watch him without that professional soldier mask on.  As if he was thinking the same thing I was, he reached out and rubbed his thumb along my cheek.  In answer to his motion, I turned my head and caught the pad of his thumb with my lip.

"We were fools, to avoid this," he said.

I agreed.  "We were always going to end up here, weren't we?"

He let out an edged, bitter laugh like he had weeks ago, the day he'd told me he loved me too much to let someone else protect me.  "With you having come three inches from death, and me a fool?  Yes.  Oh, yes.  My fate is to lose you.  One way or another."

"You believe in fate?"

"You don't?"

Ah, we'd reached that stage of afterglow.  I sprawled onto my back and looked up at the stone ceiling.  Light from the lamps outside the windows cast strange, flickering shadows on it.  I stared at them for a few seconds before realizing it was because of a breeze moving the curtains.

[crinkled-emotions]

Omg thank you so much for writing the head injury fic! I'm so glad you liked the idea!! Your stories wre ridiculously good!!!

Omg of course!! I’m glad you liked the fic! I have the other one in my WIP Pipeline, which is actually looking pretty full at the moment hahahaha. Thanks for the request, I really enjoyed writing it ☺️

[20thcentury-kylo]

Ahhh! Tysm for tagging me hun @tailsisfluffy I hope its not too bland or boring 😅

1. Top Song

Well if I had to choose- it'd hafta be Either Sand by Atlas or the Halcyon by Xi both wre amazing and honestly helped me through alot~

2. General Fashion style

Hoodies Hoodies and more hoodies- I just think their really cool

3. WIPs

Man oh man i have so many

-My Isamegu fic needs updating

-Plenty of art to draw aswell

-And i wanted to do things for valentines day for the peeps

4. Best Place to write

Tbh Anywhere I can focus, as long as im in the mood and have my music- i can right anywhere

5. Relationship status

unfortunately single but thats okay- i have my ships 😭

6. Favorite/least favorite things to write

favorite things to write are emotional set pieces, the innner turmoil, the lovestruck awe, I just like Writing how it feels... maybe because thats what i want to feel one day.

I absolutely loathe pointless drama, where the conflict comes from miscommunication, it just seems so stupid and frustrating to me, like talking to each other isnt that hard >:((

Anywho~

Thanks again hun for tagging me in this- if i were to pass this along then I'd tag my bestest fwiends @hariible @letter3lead @boundlesshousamo uwu

Hey Reina, I want to start a SnS tag chain so would u mind answering these questions and tagging people, please? 1. Top song, 2. General fashion style, 3. No. of WIPs in progress, 4. Best place for u to write, 5. Relationship status (if ur ok with sharing obviously), and 6. Fav/Least fav people/things to write?

yo! hell yuh why not

top song on spotify

drivers license has been the only song in my spotify history for the last 23 days

fashion style

if it’s anything over 70F i’m in crop tanks with running shorts and birkenstocks. i should start wearing clothes that are of ~appropriate~ length but my school doesn’t enforce a dress code sooo

WIPs

currently on hiatus!

best place to write

anywhere with coffee but also at parties for some reason

relationship status

to say it’s complicated is a… severe understatement… but to loosely sum it up, he hit me like a damn train and i’m damaged lol for more info just read my fics bc i project a lot esp in this one :}

fav/least fav to write

i’ve been writing a lot of raps recently and it’s seriously so much fun lol i despise writing fluff bc i suck at it but i’ll read a good fluff author’s works over and over again

@j3nnt @polar-stars @radbutsafe fellow creators! join me.

[itslmdee]

11/11/11 Tag Game

Thanks to @zmlorenz for the tag!

 1.        NaNoWriMo. Yes or no? And why? Maybe this year. I've done it before. I sometimes 'win'. When I didn't have a main plot but did a rebel NaNoWriMo and worked on short pieces I did not win. I'd like to because I'm behind on my Get Your Words Out count for the year. But I'm away next week and will miss a couple of NaNoWriMo days and while I've got a plot I've been toying with for a couple of years I've not pinned down all the details. (Why is naming people so difficult!) I did sign up at the site to keep my options open this year.

2.       Do you write better with or without pressure? (ex. word wars) I do somewhat better with a deadline/excuse to write, so I do a lot of things like hurt/comfort bingo, trope bingo, Whumptober. But too much pressure and I fall in a heap and don't write any words!

3.    How much romance do you usually write into your WIP(s)? Depends. Sorceress Apprentice is a romantic fantasy so a lot, but WRE is more supernatural drama and Romaine's asexual – and El has a lot of dating disasters – so not much, though Kit would like to bond with El and Romaine both in some way.

4.    What colour do you associate with each of your main characters? Sorceress Apprentice – Emeri wears a lot of black, it suits his flair for being melodramatic. Bryony likes blues and greens so I guess I'll choose a deep blue like her love for ocean. I don't really know for the others, Romaine also tends toward black because it is practical, El likes red.

5.     If you had to live where your characters live, how would you like it? There is no wifi in Sorceress Apprentice so ok to visit but not to live! Romaine lives on the English-Welsh border and that's not my dream place to live, that honour belongs to the South West of England, Devon and Cornwall!

6.     Are there any characters you’re afraid people will ship when your WIP(s) is/are published? People will ship. There's nothing you can do about that. I'd like it if Romaine was allowed to be asexual still because there's some good fic with QPRs and nonsexual romances out there, but more important to me is that Bryony and Emeri, and El is now siding that way, are childfree. We have so few childfree characters that it would be nice if people didn't feel the need to say "but it's not happy if they're not having BABBIES" and writing lots of fic where the characters change this core part of themselves.

7.  What’s a name you want to use for a character but haven’t yet? Did I mention naming is hard? I'm always trying to find the perfect name. I've got a list of names I like but I don't think I've been holding one back for the right character.

8. Do you write to make art or to entertain your audience? Because it lets me explore who I am, because I've always written, because I love stories. I wouldn't say 'art' so much as I write to tell stories and I hope I can entertain my audience along the way.

9.  What’s the strangest thing you’ve researched for a writing project? I'm not sure. It varies from what inventions existed at a particular point in history to details about modern medical procedures.

10. Do you have any characters you love on the page but would hate if they were a real person? Other people's sure. You can appreciate a character but hate who they are, e.g. Teabag from Prison Break to give a tv reference. In my own work I don't tend to love my antagonists, they're there to be bothersome and largely unlikeable.

11. Would you like to share your favourite bit you’ve written recently?

I wrote several pieces this month for #writingwednesday on gatekeeping which I was pleased with because it's an important topic. I haven't written much other original fiction lately. I've been sucked into the Good Omens fandom and writing nonsexual Aziraphale/Crowley h/c and romantic fluff under my fandom pseudonym.

 I'm too lazy to think up other questions, especially when these are so good! I'll tag @emdop  @lottieiswriting  @everynextdream and anyone else who wants to play.

1. NaNoWriMo. Yes or no? And why?

2.  Do you write better with or without pressure? (ex. word wars)

3. How much romance do you usually write into your WIP(s)?

4.What colour do you associate with each of your main characters?

5.   If you had to live where your characters live, how would you like it?

6.  Are there any characters you’re afraid people will ship when your WIP(s) is/are published?

7.   What’s a name you want to use for a character but haven’t yet?

8.  Do you write to make art or to entertain your audience?

9.  What’s the strangest thing you’ve researched for a writing project?

10.  Do you have any characters you love on the page but would hate if they were a real person?

11.   Would you like to share your favourite bit you’ve written recently?

[itslmdee]

Genre meme

@yourlocalwriterblog has posted a list of the ten genres according to Blake Snyder. I suggest reading the post for more detail but the genres are Monster In The House, Golden Fleece, Out of the Bottle, Person with a Problem, Rites of Passage, Buddy Love, Whydunit, The Fool Triumphant, Institutionalized, Superhero. Which of the genres does your WiP/WiPs resemble? Mine are Person with a Problem (Sorceress Apprentice) and Buddy Love (WRE). tagging @converginglives @raevenlywrites and this is an open game/tag for all!

[itslmdee]

Describe your oc's handwriting

 Tagged by @emdop thank you!

WRE

Romaine – he writes for practicality, official forms and reports for his job and he likes crosswords so his handwriting is mostly neat block capitals

El – messy but readable to her most of the time. Romaine does impress on her the need for legible writing on their reports. When it comes to things like writing birthday cards however she puts in the effort and has beautiful handwriting

Sorceress Apprentice

Emeri – he's got elegant handwriting, being well educated and in the fantasy world most people write solely by hand

Bryony – she can read and write, and her handwriting isn't as neat as Emeri's and is much plainer, but she takes pride in writing and the journal she keeps while studying is filled with her notes ranging from things she'd read to entries about her feelings

if you haven’t done it and you’d like to do this meme, tag you are it! (also no pressure @raevenlywrites @converginglives @zmlorenz)

[itslmdee]

For all of them! What association have your characters built to the color green?

Thank you!Emeri – it's an earth colour so it has some positive connotations, and thereare some green gemstones he uses in his magic.

Bryony – green means springtime and new growth, and insummer, the smell of cut grass. It's not a colour she wears a lot but she'smade dresses of various shades of green for customers and pouches/bags made ofdeep green velvet so there's a luxurious element there.

Romaine – as a Wolf he has ideas about various shades ofgreen and how they smell, to some degree how they 'feel' for want of a betterword. Green is grassy fields, so a connotation of freedom

Kit – as a Cat he too experiences colour slightlydifferently to humans but green perhaps means home. He spent some time inAustralia before returning to the UK and the grassy expenses of the Wye Valleyare where his family, particularly his half-sister, live.

[itslmdee]

Texts From Last Night (TFLN) OCs

You've probably seen TextsFromLastNight edits, eg textsfromthe-avengers. I decided to make some but for my WiPs. In this case, WiP: WRE, the modern day supernatural drama with shapeshifters.

EL (female, Cat Shapeshifter)

ROMAINE (Male, Wolf Shapeshifter)

KIT (Male, Cat Shapeshifter)

There'll be more to come! (Probably for my other main WiP, Sorceress Apprentice next)

I've seen plenty of tfln for various fandoms but not for OCs yet and I'd love to see this take off so I'm tagging some of my followers and some people from the writer peeps spreadsheet (under the cut) but please anyone who sees this, make the things! 

Visit textsfromlastnight, plug in some keywords for things that relate to your characters and post, graphics optional!  I’ll suggest tfln-oc as a tag but you know, Tumblr & tags...

@adorhauer @agateskittles @all-my-novels @calicowrites @cirianne @converginglives @dreamwishing @endless-minds @esoteric-eclectic-eccentric @falling--in--place @gg-writes @gettingitwrite @hannahs-creations @jess---writes @keepcalmandwritefiction @knight-clover @leopardsnake-stories @lottieisdefinitelynotwriting @lynnafred @mybookisbad @quirkylittleworlds @raevenlywrites @reeseweston @storiesforthesoul01 @thel3tterm @theapprenticewordsmith @whollyart @writer-jessicac

[itslmdee]

3,2,1 tag game

@writingonesdreams had an open tag for this game, thank you!

Rules: sum up your WIP(s) in three themes, two nouns, one adjective, and an image.

 WIP:  Sorceress Apprentice

Themes: love (romantic and familial), learning new skills, overcoming doubts/difficulties

Nouns: magic, knowledge

Adjective: hopeful

Image:

  WIP: WRE

Themes: supernatural, overcoming past, friendship

Nouns: authority, justice

Adjective: helpful

Image:

If you haven’t done this game yet and you’d like to, TAG you’re it :)