#writing outside my comfort zone

[raving-raven-writing]

Avatar FF Snippets

So...I normally don't write smut, but I wanted to get better at writing it and initially what was going to be a one shot turned into a five or six chapter fic. Honestly though, I don't know if I will ever post the entire thing...I don't really have the confidence for it, I guess...But maybe if these two snippets gets good feedback, it might eventually see the light of day on ao3. _________________________________________________

“Stop.”

He still wasn’t comfortable with her pulling this type of stuff while there were other people around. It did weird things to his insides and it brought an embarrassed flush to his face that he couldn’t control everytime.

“Did you have a bad day, baby?”

Every day was a bad day; he couldn’t recall the last time he’d had a good day. It had to have been well back before the Colonel and others had all died. He simply nodded, trying to fight away the pout that was forming on his lips.

“What can mommy do to make you feel better?” she asked He could think of a few things that would make him feel better, not that she’d be willing to entertain his naughty thoughts. He’d tried it once and Jasmina had smacked him hard for the unwanted advance. The only time anything sexual was allowed to happen was if she allowed it. If mommy allowed it. It was weird. It was pathetic. He was pathetic. And maybe it was okay to be pathetic once in awhile, but  he felt…needy, and that just made him feel worse about himself. ___________________________________________

“Did you tell them a joke,” Prager asked. “They’re giggling like a bunch of school girls.” Lopez laughed, slapping Prager on the back. “No, man, he was the joke. They turned him down-”Prager glanced at Lyle sympathetically. He shrugged and placed a hand on Lyle’s shoulder. “I’m sure they had their reasons.” “She said she doesn’t date newborn aliens. Or ten foot tall, blue cats.”

[nocek]

Some Miguel and Gabriella doodles form last month :) I just hadn't had the motivation to turn them into proper drawings.

But the bottom two actually are part of my headcanons:

So starting with the happy one as in the one on the right:

I headcanon that Miguel actually ended in Gabriella's universe on accident and the multiversal travel didn't exist yet (to be more precise it was invented to look for Gabriella's father because Miguel didn't know that he was dead and just assumed they like switched places or something) and he explained the whole situation to Gabriella rightaway (because there is no way to be able to fit into another dude's life without a hitch even with I was bonked in the head recently excuse).

Gabriella was skeptical but decided to approach whole situation sitcom style. Dad was replaced by awkward but caring dude with superpowers - let's help him but also try the new boundaries. So she approached with hey dad runs twice a week and I ride the bike with him. I can show you our favorite route! And then proceeded to extend the route muuuuuch beyond what was humanly possible for her dad. And then beyond what was possible for her just out of curiosity if Miguel will ask to stop. Well he didn't so now after long ice cream break he needs to carry her home because she totally absolutely is beat and cannot cycle anymore (and also this way is more fun).

And the second separate depressing au headcanon that is not as tied to the picture but I guess I'll share it here:

While the Gabriella's universe was falling apart all the spiders there just grabbed as many civilians as possible and jumped through the portals. So Gabriella and couple dozen displaced people are alive at spiders hq and things are maybe better but also worse.

Since Gabriella is alive Miguel can't go sulk in the corner in his office. He needs to put on a front for her. Which most likely doubles the pressure that he already puts on himself.

Gabriella isn't an idiot and figures it out so she also tries to put on a front.

But to add a little spider whimsy and make the whole thing a bit happier - here comes Gwen.

Miguel was just as grumpy about letting her join spider society as was in the movie buuuuut Gabriela decided that Gwen being the slightly older girl with a little bit of alternative vibe is the coolest person ever and we will be best friends. And you are a ballerina!!!! I want to try ballet too!

Which in turn forced Miguel to be nice like to other Gabriella's friends and maybe be a bit more mindful and realize that Gwen needs more than place to stay and new friends and coworkers. She is too young to just jump into adulthood. She needs her father or better father figure.

And he tries to dump that on Peter B which doesn't work because Peter suffers form serious case of baby brain but also sees Gwen more like a equal adult and friend.

Besides the idea of Miguel trying to be nice and failing at because he approaches it form his experience with Gabriella standpoint while dealing with teenager is kinda fun and I like it.

[yourlokalescholar]

So. That secret keeper guy looks pretty cool huh?

[godblooded]

so like… controversial opinion but… if you agree there should be more female muses or lesbians… uhh… write them?

[asteronomical]

RTRN Vampire AU Snippet

Ratio sinks his teeth in.

He can feel the way Aventurine’s breath gets caught in his throat, the way he swallows thickly past the fangs digging into the junction between his neck and collarbone. He can feel the way Aventurine’s heart races from where their chests press against each other, the way his blood vessels thrum under the gentle press of his lips.

Blood oozes out of the pinprick wound, spilling onto his waiting tongue. With it, comes the telltale scent of copper in the air; it always marks the beginnings of a feast. And yet, Ratio is no gluttonous fool. He partakes in moderation, practices self-control, and pays mind to his limits. However, he falters at the taste.

For the first time in a long while, he wants to indulge.

Immediately, Ratio pulls back and puts some distance between them. A rivulet of red trickles out of the wound, down Aventurine’s exposed torso. He wants nothing more than to lick it back up, to trail a path of kisses up the heated flesh and drink straight from the source. It was like honey. It was sweet, and sugary, and saccharine.

It was tempting.

It was no less than divine. He is no god, and he cares not for their affairs. And yet, he could liken Aventurine’s body to delectable ambrosia, and his blood to syrupy nectar. Would he really be so much of a demon if this is what pulls at the strings of his restraint?

Aventurine’s pretty eyelashes flutter open, and he looks up at him with dazed eyes. “Hah… What’s stopping you, doctor?”

Ratio stumbles over his words for just a moment. “I… fear I may not be able to control myself.”

“Then don’t.”

“I can’t just take all your blood.”

“It’s yours to take.” Aventurine holds onto his shoulders, pulling him closer and whispering into his ear. “I’m yours to take.”

And perhaps, that is both permission and forgiveness all in one.

Ratio sinks his teeth in once again. This time, he devours.

[zannolin]

Fic Summary: It's been nearly ten years since they saw each other. Ten years since they lived in the same state, much less occupied the same room. Ten years since they were friends; eight and a half since Will stopped referring to Mike as such, much less his best one.

Ten years, and here Mike is, and here Will is, and here’s the guy in the chinos who just bought Will’s first friend, first love, first heartbreak a drink. Here is what the poets call cosmic fucking irony, Will thinks: the setup for the world’s unfunniest a guy walks into a bar joke, and Will’s the punchline. Will’s been punched in the gut.

(or, after ten years of no contact, will encounters mike wheeler in a new york city bar, and he doesn't know what to do about it.)

[princessofxianle]

Read the previous chapter first

I wanna hold on tighter thats just the way I'm wired: Chapter 2

🏹Feng Xin/reader🏹

🔞MDNI and I MEAN IT THIS TIME | 3.4k | this is the smut | read on ao3 | No one fucking look at me

Hands roamed.

Feng Xin broke the kiss to remove his top and toss it to the floor in one swift movement. You watched the fabric briefly obstruct his soft face as it revealed his bare upper body. Strong, healthy, and built from training.

Before his hands were back on you, you unbuttoned and removed your bottoms, kicking them free before you dragged him back to you by his lips.

Like his cheek, his skin burned, and soon even your own shirt was constricting.

Without breaking another kiss, you grabbed one of his hands and led it under your shirt. You were aching for the feeling of his callouses rubbing against your skin. He happily followed and gripped your waist, rubbing his thumbs along the length of your ribs, from your sides, toward your belly and back, in slow drawn-out motions.

Your hands wrapped back around his neck as you closed your eyes and let out the smallest of gasps.

He smiled against your lips, but not before returning to grab your lower lip between his teeth like before.

When the gnawing on your lip let go, your eyes flew open searching for where the touch had gone. However, it immediately reappeared under your chin right above your pulse. Your head subconsciously drew back, inviting the feeling further.

Feng Xin nipped at the exposed skin on your neck with his teeth, before soothing the bite with a brief massage from the tip of his tongue and moving along to find a new patch of skin to stimulate.

You had let yourself drown in the feeling of his love bites, wishing them to continue forever. But the next thing to catch your attention was a sudden pressure between your legs. Feng Xin had shifted to press his knee against you and, in time with his teeth on your neck, was ever so slightly rubbing with a solid but gentle heaviness.

You had opened your mouth to gasp, but the heavy exhale from your lungs passed through your vocal cords and vibrated, resulting in a quiet, nearly imperceptible moan.

Nearly.

In response, Feng Xin immediately returned his lips to yours and kissed you deeply. “Do that again,” he whispered into your mouth. His knee rubbing between your legs picked up again. “I want to swallow that little noise you made.”

His words caused your hips to shift, searching for better contact. You kissed him deeply in the process, biting his lip as he did yours, before abruptly breaking away and whispering breathily into his ear, “Then earn it.”

He chuckled, “Alright,” and moved a hand from your hip until it was kneading the soft flesh under your thigh, slowly making its way further up and in toward its anticipated destination.

The pressure from his knee drew back and was suddenly replaced by his hand teasing the waistband of your underwear. Slowly teasing the tips of his fingers under the fabric, but not daring to remove it.

He then withdrew his hand from the waistband before cupping the fabric between your legs with his palm, and painfully slowly dragging upward.

You caught a gasp in your throat at the sensation of his hand through the thin fabric of your underwear and smiled at him. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

He kissed your smile “Who said I was done?” and slipped his fingers under the last layer of protective fabric making contact with your sensitive and now bare skin.

You gasped at the sensation, drawing a deep breath of air into your lungs before shakily exhaling in articulated gasps.

His fingers danced around, stroking the less sensitive perimeter of your intimate spot slowly and occasionally daring to dip one finger closer to the center, gathering some moisture, before exploring another part of you.

His touch continued along the perimeter, then center, and finally back again. But this time when his fingers trailed up, they kept going until they carefully made contact with the small bundle of nerves he was looking for.

The contact sent an earthquake through your hips and aftershocks up your spine. Noticing your reaction, he grazed the same spot again, and your hips rocked in kind. You dug fingernails into the back of his neck, and it earned you a stifled grunt in his throat.

While he was busy, a thought suddenly appeared in your mind and before you could tame yourself, your free knee moved to catch Feng Xin between the legs and to push against the hardness under his clothing before he could stop you.

The result was a deep rumbling gasp from his throat that you determined had to qualify as one of the most stimulating sounds you had ever heard this man make.

“Do that again,” you murmured with a grin, echoing his own words into his ear.

He stopped. The fingers between your legs paused in contemplation before they were retracted all together.

Before he proceeded, the only words of warning you received were “You first,” before he swiftly removed your underwear completely with both hands, flipped you around and rolled, placing your back up against his, and gripping strong arms around your chest sitting you both upright, legs separated.

He kept you that way. Open. As his arms each snuck around your midsection and met with the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“I don’t mind waiting my turn.” His lips brushed up against the tip of your ear, and then his hands resumed, teasing you until you were putty in his arms.

His middle and ring fingers settled on your most sensitive spot, rubbing slightly. Eventually those fingers slipped down into your wetness and teased your pulsing opening, touching everywhere except where you wanted him. His other hand continued to rub the bundle of nerves he had abandoned earlier.

You turned your head to see his face out of the corner of your eye. He towered over you, but you didn’t care. You loved looking up at him. “Fucking tease,” you threatened. You wanted to see what he’d do.

Feng Xin smiled, “You still think I want to kiss you with that potty mouth?”

You scoffed. “You’re one to talk when every other word out of your own mouth is ‘fuck.’”

He kissed you suddenly and spoke, “You won’t be much better off once I’m done with you.” And with that he slipped a finger into you fully and easily.

Your breath hitched but you didn’t make a sound.

He added a second finger quickly, making note of how relaxed you already were, and then began curling them both away from you.

You tightened. He kept going. Finding a rhythm between the curls and thrusts of his fingers inside you with the external stimulation from his other hand.

“Fucker,” you playfully whispered. The teasing had already been more than you could bare, if he kept this up it wouldn’t be long until you unraveled on his fingers.

“That’s my girl,” he responded. He stopped thrusting and you felt his arm flex to find a different angle. A deeper angle. And then, leading with his buried fingers, he began to pull upward as if he was powerfully drawing the string on his bow.

The movement targeted inside you right where you were weakest. Your mouth dropped open, head flung back onto his shoulder, and your eyes snapped shut. However, you let no sound escape.

The sight was disappointing to Feng Xin so he tried again. Over and over, massaging that gummy part of you with his fingers and the punishing pull of his arm time and time again.

His other hand kept up too, rubbing at you to mirror the same rhythm, the two movements working together like the double strings of a crossbow, being drawn together tighter and tighter and at the same time. The head of the arrow aiming directly at its target.

Until you could no longer bare it and *SNAP* the bowstring released, sending the arrow soaring.

Feng Xin had hit a bullseye.

Both of his hands continued to fuck you through the explosion of bliss in your body, each movement kicking your balloon of pleasure as high as he could force, until he eventually decided it had been in the air for long enough and let it pop on the ground.

Yet you did not make a sound, restricting your body to labored breathing. If he wanted to hear you moan, he would need to rip it from you. His hands wouldn’t be enough.

The glint of triumph in your glazed eyes was enough to communicate that to him.

He laid you back on the bed to recover, making a show of him stripping out of the last layer of clothing separating him from you.

Just the sight of the size that sprung free from the fabric made you ache. And that ache hurriedly pushed your post-orgasm feeling past and encouraged you to chase the next one.

He was on top of you the next second. Skin on skin, mouth on mouth. Nothing could separate his touch on you now. Both of you were entirely naked and vulnerable in each other’s embrace.

You climbed on top of him, straddling his legs once again, but this time without any restriction of clothing. You felt a prodding warmth graze the needlingly sensitive wetness between your legs and you felt your lower half relax as if you intended to draw it inside.

While one of your hands rested on his shoulder, the other dropped below and guided his arousal toward where you wanted him. You rolled your hips to coat him in the remnants of your lingering and dripping climax and both of you gasped. Then you slowly lowered yourself, allowing him into you with the utmost caution.

He was big. So big it took you a good while before your body could open up enough to even begin to take him. And another moment to allow entrance without pain. But soon enough his full thickness was engulfed by you.

There was still just so much more length to go.

An idea washed over you once you accommodated more of the size inside of you. With every passing moment your body grew hungrier and more impatient. The only way to satisfy your craving was to gorge yourself on the meal you desperately wanted.

You meaningfully looked deep into Feng Xin’s brown eyes and sighed before promptly let gravity crash your hips down into his lap with a hard and wet slap.

He was fully inside.

The penetration into you was sudden and so deep. The overwhelming wave of pleasure and pain rushed over you, and you responded with a sharp gasp.

Your head had been thrown back from the deep and painful impact of him on your cervix. You began to grind your hips on him, feeling that deep pressure prod at your deepest point, as if making a threat that you wanted him to go deeper.

Feng Xin made a face and a noise that seemed to want to make good on that threat.

It felt so good to be around him.

You could only guess how he felt to be so perfectly nestled inside you.

He grabbed your hips, indicating he wanted to move.

“Wait!” you cried suddenly, eyelashes fluttering in ecstasy.

You exclamation scared him, worried that he’d hurt you. His face cooled from hot and hungry to frozen and fearful in an instant. He wrapped your neck and back in a supportive embrace while he scanned your face suddenly asking in a panic, “What’s wrong?”

You’re eyes were half lidded and watering from his intrusion and you responded in a shaky voice, “I just want to feel you.” You subconsciously clenched around him. “Don’t move. I want to stay full.” Tears began to fall from your eyes.

Feng Xin’s eyes grew wide as he processed your words. Your tears startled him. His pause indicating how worried he was until you looked at him in assurance, permitting him to continue.

“I didn’t know how starving you were,” he teased.

You could feel both your own pulse and that of the god inside you at the point where you were connected. For the time being, his heartbeat existed within your body. And the thought of that alone was nearly enough to send you into the sky for the second time.

You hauled your mind far from the edge of that high.

Feng Xin wrapped strong arms around you. Grounding you to the point where you became one.

You then began to snake your arms around Feng Xin’s neck. And before settling your chin on his shoulder, you whispered, “Xin-er…” your voice soaked in insinuated suggestion.

Feng Xin froze.

You continued, “A-xin,” you nibbled and sucked on his earlobe then took a hot breath before weakly whispering into his ear, “I want you.”

The man in and around you trembled imperceptibly. Then he contemplated. And then finally made his next move.

With a terrifying explosion of animalistic brawn and while still fully nestled inside, he flipped both of you over, so you were once again under him and on your back.

Any sort of restraint Feng Xin had been clinging onto had since evaporated, and he pulled out from you entirely only to slam back inside once again.

Over and over and over.

The pace wasn’t fast, but it was hard and drawn out. Each thrust like the release of an arrow from his bowstring. With every thrust, the head of each arrow assaulted your favorite spot deep inside you.

The coils in your gut were on fire from the repeated impacts. The blaze grew hotter every time he bottomed out. Your thoughts jumbled and time slowed within the walls of your mind.

You could barely remember what had led you to this point. The only thought that ricocheted around your brain was just how good it felt to have Feng Xin moving inside you like this.

His force was unrelenting and his stamina unsurpassed. He fucked into you with a passion no less than how he kissed you.

Intentional, hard, and with an infinite amount of love.

It wasn’t long before his persistence ripped the sounds he wanted out of you. And once you broke, you gave up trying to hold back.

It was impossible for you to suppress your sounds anyway, so you directed them right into his mouth. You took a choked breath before the impact followed by a drawn out vocal whine as he prepared his aim to thrust again. Until he burrowed back in and the cycle of your sounds continued.

Each thrust grew harder and more accented as he consumed your moans. They seemed to be fueling him. Each sound he ate up from you funneled directly into the force of the impacts aimed within you.

The beautiful abuse made you feel dumb. Thoughtlessly, you uttered an answer to the question your body had been asking for too long, “Ju Yang,” another thrust hit you. “I see now.”

That little phrase of yours earned you an extra poignant thrust to your insides and a pained moan escaped from you into his mouth. He had not let a single one you fed him go to waste.

He kissed you again after this especially loud moan, and upped his pace, still maintaining his depth.

He had already fucked you dumb but now he was just about to fuck you crazy with pleasure as well.

With every last bit of strength you had left holding you back from your release, you looked into his beautiful golden-brown eyes and breathily uttered, “A-xin.”

He looked at you in response but with not any difference in his rhythm.

“Come with me,” you commanded.

He already had no intention of letting you down. He continued to showcase the true power and stamina of a god yet still as his rhythmic movements grew even more intense. Your mind could not take much more of this euphoric beating. The feeling would soon devour you.

“Feng Xin,” you mindlessly uttered as you placed your hand on his cheek and shut your eyes. You gathered all your remaining composure, directed it to the man above you…

…and you prayed.

You prayed to your god.

The only god you had ever wanted to worship.

The god above you now.

And the god still pounding a waterfall pleasure deep within you, daring you to suffocate because your lungs had now forgotten how to breathe.

His unrelenting pursuit of your orgasm was finally achieved at the height of your breathless hypoxia, melting the rest of your composure along with the tightness in your core.

Gasping loudly from your lack of air, you released, projecting the entire explosion of pleasure into your prayer to him and squeezing the impossibly large size inside you, as if to drag Feng Xin off your cliff of bliss with you.

Your intention was successful. You prayer was heard.

A prayer like none other than he had received before. It poured nothing but your ecstasy into his mind, drowning him in the crushing sensation of your release that was soon to make him gasp from his own.

His eyes flew open, and he looked down at your beautifully pleasured face in realization. A face being pleasured by him, and him alone.

Between your squeeze engulfing him and the heavenly fanfare of your prayer invading his mind on top of it all, his steadfast rhythm became erratic and harder still. He inhaled sharply before hammering into you while he bottomed out one, two, and three more times, preventing you from coming down from your own high, and then buried himself impossibly deep as he came.

He only muttered the strained word, “Fuck,” and sung a melodic whine into your mouth as he filled you.

You felt his release spread within your gut. You felt him twitch as you uncontrollably squeezed, your body and soul still miles from the ground. Your body drew out every last drop from his release and your mouth ate up every moan from his as you pulsed around him.

You devoured his beautiful sounds. You locked your legs around his waist as your body tried to slowly glide down from the heights of your own orgasm with his, both pairs of your hips subtly grinding on their own to subtly shift his fullness within you.

The pair of you stayed connected like this for a while. Your arms and legs wrapped around him, his strong hands holding you in an indestructibly warm embrace, and your insides contracting at increasing intervals around the feeling of which you never wanted to leave from you.

You tried to catch your breath before you spoke. “Don’t move,” your hot breath whispered to him, exhausted.

Feng Xin obeyed. His broad chest heaved. Strands of loose hair stuck to his forehead, where beads of sweat kissed his temples. A few capillaries dripped down his neck and onto his breathing chest. A few more dripped further still.

His body seemed to be glowing. Like there was a halo of light surrounding him. Some sort of shimmering bronze reflection from his skin that bewildered your eyes. His skin was as hot as the embers of a metal-forging inferno, only now beginning to die out.

He was beautiful. In every sense of the word. The man above you made you feel so good, so safe, and so loved. You were in complete awe as you looked up at him from the view on your back.

He was your angel.

Your god.

And you loved him.

Feng Xin didn’t dare pull out. And you didn’t dare ask him to.

Your thoughts are words were one in the same. Your mouth speaking at the exact moment the thought was formed. “I wish I could be full of you all the time.” But it was the truth.

“Is that a prayer?” He chided in response.

“Only if you answer.”

He carefully kissed you in reassurance. Slowly. Deeply. “Always.”

This was perfect. He was perfect.

“I will never leave your side.” He promised between peppered kisses. “I will protect you until the end of time.”

He looked into your soft eyes. You saw the world reflected in his. Your world. A world you would share together. Until the end of everything.

Just a god and his most devoted believer.

Forever inseparable.

fin

[toxicroyjamie]

🌀 and ⛅ please!!!! 🙏🙏🙏 I would make a blood sacrifice to read your RoyJamie fic, if that's any motivation.

THANK YOUUUU .... It so is.... I have like 39 wips and I NEVER have time to finish them but I feel like if I actually locked in on one project I could like. Actually make something idk. but yes ty <3

🌀: Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't published.

I'm literally so bad at writing summaries and I never do it, so I'll just describe one haha

It's an AU where Jamie's life veered off course in his late teens and he became a year 0/reception (or Pre-K in the US - 4-5 year olds) teacher instead of a football player. Roy is the exact same. Phoebe's in Jamie's class and Roy and Jamie hit it off when Roy's sister gets an emergency call into work and he has to go be the Volunteer Parent Helper in Jamie's classroom haha

🌤️: Post your favorite dialogue from your WIP.

This is from the same one just to keep the theme going. Keep in mind this is a work in progmess lol <3

“So,” she starts, drawing out the o sound, which immediately confirms Roy’s suspicion that she’s got vicious, nasty ulterior motives.

“What do you think of Mr. Jamie?”

Roy throws his head back and groans.

Since he came out, Rachel’s been on the fool’s errand of trying to lure him into talking about men with her.

It's like she thinks they're on fucking Sex and the fucking City, or something.

Roy is really no more eager to discuss men with his sister than he ever was to discuss women with her (or than he would be to, say, flatten his testicles in a vice-grip), and has tried several times to explain as much, but Rachel doesn’t listen to a goddamn word he says.

She reaps some sort of demented delight from his continued irritation.

Fucking little sisters.

Roy takes a hedonistically-long swig from his stemmed glass and swishes the bitter liquid around in his cheeks like a wine-tasting old-money prick.

It tastes like wine; he thinks he detects notes of grapes.

"Jamie’s fine,” Roy concedes, refusing to fall prey to her scheme. “Seems…nice.”

Rachel - undeterred - jabs him beneath the ribs with her bony index finger.

It fucking hurts. She’s inherited their mother's hawk talon fingers, long and sharp and probably strong enough to break a rodent’s neck in one go.

Roy cradles his poor, abused side and glares daggers at her across the sofa.

“Fuck off! What?”

“You know.”

He does.

“No, I don’t,” he insists, directing his attention back towards the TV.

He keeps his arms firmly glued to his sides, just in case she tries it.

Two of the dark-haired, belipfillered women who have been courting the same ugly little blond lad are yelling at each other in a restaurant booth, but Rachel was running her mouth through the entirety of the talking heads segment, so Roy's got no idea what's happened or where they are.

He growls in annoyance and moves to grab the remote off the coffee table.

The moment his sides are exposed, Rachel lunges at him, driving her talon into his vulnerable side.

Next time, Roy thinks, I’ll bite her finger clean off.

“Fucking stop!” He orders.

He slaps her hand away hard enough that she yelps.

"Are you really gonna make me say it?" She demands, cradling her hand like Roy's fucking broken it, or something. “I have to be the weirdo?”

“Yeah. Because I've got no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, Roy. He's fucking fit.”

“Is he? Didn't notice. Can I just fucking watch our fucking show?”

“All the mummies fancy him, too,” Rachel continues, ignoring him altogether. “I mean, not me. I don't like athletic men. They're all vain and shallow.”

“Hm.”

“But all the other mummies. God, there's a mums’ groupchat—for, like, playdates, or day-drinking, or whatever—and the shit these women say about this boy—let me show you.”

She reaches for her phone on the coffee table, but Roy waves her off.

“I can imagine, thanks.”

[mistresslrigtar]

Song prompt update!

I have two challenges left to write and I promise I haven’t forgotten you! I want to get them just right or as close as I can to fitting the music you suggested!

Tomorrow is gym day, and I will have those last songs playing on repeat as I work out. It’s the best place to get my brain in gear and cranking out ideas!

I’ll have them fleshed out and written by next week at the very latest!

[lunar-years]

Curious about your plan for the Jan Maas square on your bingo card. (I have him too!)

this is one of the hardest squares for me 😭 it all depends on how confident i'm feeling in my ability to write jan maas, LOL. which at the moment is not very, but my idea for it would involve him quite a bit.

so my initial concept is established longterm relationship royjamie have an anniversary coming up and Roy wants to plan a surprise trip for Jamie to Amsterdam. Jamie usually plans their travel because he loves doing the research and compiling fun facts about each place/culture to share with Roy when they're there, but this time roy just really wants to do something for Jamie. he enlists his travel agent as his old standby, but all of her suggestions/ideas aren't good enough. He doesn't even know why, or what exactly it is he's looking for, he just knows it needs to be perfect. so he turns to jan maas for travel tips! jan maas is back living in amsterdam playing for the amsterdam football team whose name i've forgotten. anyway, he not only helps roy plan out a great itinerary, he also invites them to a match and then back to his for dinner so they can all catch up.

at dinner Jan asks Jamie where his ring is, and Jamie is like ??? what ring, Jan Maas. what ring. So Jan says, "well this was an engagement trip, yes? I was under the impression Roy was planning to propose. I told him all the most romantic spots to do it?" Cue a bit of fun lowkey chaos because 1) RoyJamie's relationship has been a "secret" this whole time and they were not aware jan even knew they were together. (it was obvious to the entire team, and Roy's "i'm planning this trip for my Best Friend Jamie" text to Jan could be seen through about a mile away, lol, but royjamie are just kind of silly goofy (dumb <3) and think they've been sooo great at keeping this secret. so they're stunned. 2) Roy was in fact not planning to propose on this trip, but now he cannot stop thinking about it. 3) Jamie in turn Cannot Stop Thinking About It.

you see where i am going.

[blackjackkent]

Prayers and Hellfire

Pairing: Karlach/Tav (Hector Carlisle) Characters: Karlach, Named Male Tav (Hector Carlisle) Rating: E / 18+, NSFW Content Tags: Fluff, smut, romantic, first time, general spicy cuteness Word Count: 6.0k Setting: Mid-Act 2, expansion of Act 2 Karlach romance scene.

Summary: 

“What? Hec…” She reaches out, cups his cheek to draw his face back towards her, to force him to meet her eyes. She reads his expression more closely for a long moment, and then her eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, fuck,” she says, startled. “You haven’t done this before, have you?” “Never…” he answers quietly. Gods… don’t laugh at me. His free hand, splayed out against the ground next to him, flexes nervously. But she doesn’t laugh. Instead she takes his face in both her hands and kisses him again. This time it’s slow, lingering, achingly gentle, a dramatic departure from the frantic need they both felt a few moments ago. He feels a deep calm spread through him from where her lips touch his. And he knows at that moment that there was never anything to fear. That whenever he is lost, she will find him again. That he is safe in her hands. “Lucky me,” she murmurs when the kiss breaks, and she looks down at him with a slow, playful grin. “That means I get to teach you.” ---- Hector Carlisle spent his life at a monastery before the nautiloid caught him. Karlach Cliffgate has spent ten years trapped in the Hells. They both have a lot of living to catch up on.

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[pianokantzart]

Not to pressure you or anything, but do you intend on adding another chapter to The One To Blame? Absolutely no worries if not. Just curious. Have a nice day.

Hello! Sorry it took so long to answer. I had planned on adding another chapter to The One To Blame, but then some IRL stuff happened that caused my inspiration to fizzle out.

I might pick it back up one day, but no promises. Hope you have a nice day as well 👍

[mimir97477906]

im so sosry for ranting abour this again but auhgufhgh im making a ref sheet of my ocs for myself beacse EVERYTIME I DRAW THEM THEY LOOK SOOOSK DIFFERENT os i thoguht maybe this can help me memorize their faces but EVEN THO IM USING GUIDELINES THE SAME CHARACTER LOOKS LIKE DIFFERENT PEOPLE ITS JUST A HEAD TURN AROUND I CANT DO THIS I FEEL SO VIOLENT WHY IS MY ART STYLE HAVING AN IDENTITY CRISIS HOWWWWWWW DO I FIX THIS

[nullcoast]

Why can't we just love eachother and help eachother and cry for eachother when we hurt and laugh for eachother when we're happy. What happened to radical acceptance and beauty. Why are we self-separating using white suppremist ideas about identity. The idea someone needs some pure property to be worthy of adopting a community is point blank a white suprematist idea. Where is the understanding of mistake and pain.

We are so alone and isolated in this generation and we are playing directly into the interests of those in power by further self-separating. Focus on some important fucking shit.

[threeletterslife]

Hii chana !! I'm curious if do you ever plan to publish your own work? Loveu!

Oooh I'm working on several original stories at the moment that are near and dear to my heart. My life goal is to publish. When I do, I will let this platform know :)