#foxglove's writing

[realitybreakingranyakumoarchive]

Five succubi are gathered outside an apartment, dressed up and ready for a night on the town. They leave the apartment complex and head to their first destination, a nearby bar. There, they sit down at a corner booth and order an appetizer for each of them.

While they wait for the appetizer, they begin ordering drink after drink after drink. While their high alcohol tolerance makes it hard for them to get drunk, they have another goal in mind, having made it so that they get taller and curvier for everything they eat or drink.

Once their appetizers arrive, they tear through them quickly, feeling the pleasure of their curves expanding. Once finished, they pay for their food and leave to head to the next destination. They repeat this process for every bar and club they visit throughout the night.

By the time the sun rises, they are finally heavily drunk, and they decide to book a hotel room to sleep it off. They walk into the hotel and approach the front desk. "Can we get one room for the uh. six of us?" One of them says.

The person at the front desk, distracted by their extreme curves, hands them a room key and forgets to charge them or ask for how long. The succubi make their way to their room and, upon entering, strip down and have an expansion-orgy which lasts several hours.

[gumi-writes]

With the inside of its petals speckled with bloodlike colouration, it’s perhaps no surprise that foxgloves come with their own death toll.

Practitioners of varying arts will endure such risk anyway, as it is famed for its dual nature to both mend and mar.

[ki1ldeer]

My like bi annual drawing of Heidi, sponsored by winter

[foxglovevibes]

Thomas, to MC after Rafayel finally wears down his endless patience: I've told Rafayel his ears turn red when he lies.

MC, absolutely seeing where this is going but wanting to absolutely see the trainwreck ubfold: why did you do that?

Thomas, smirking back: so I can do this. Hey Rafayel, do you love MC?

Rafayel, immediately panicking and covering his ears: NO-

[embcrspark]

#𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐂𝐑𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊  —  a  headcanon-based  interpretation  of  teen  wolf's  𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒  𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐊𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐄.  independent,  private  &  selective,  low  activity  rp-blog  originally  crafted  for  fakevz  that  operates  in  english  only.  established  2014,  crossover-friendly  with  several  verses  available.  please  read  the  rules  before  interacting.  hexed  by  𝒍𝒆𝒙𝒊,  25+,  she/her. ©  open  for  plotting! 

after  leaving  the  horrors  of  beacon  hills  behind,  stiles  built  a  new  life  in  new  york—far  from  the  supernatural  world  that  once  haunted  him.  as  a  rising  fbi  agent,  he  finally  felt  safe.  but  the  past  had  a  way  of  creeping  in:  unprocessed  grief,  loss,  and  guilt  followed  him  like  ghosts,  and,  in  their  wake,  something  else  sparked:  a  strange  power,  flickering  to  life  in  moments  of  raw  emotion.  at  first,  he  dismissed  it  as  stress,  an  overworked  mind  playing  tricks  on  him.  but  as  the  unexplainable  piled  up,  denial  became  impossible.  determined  to  uncover  the  truth,  stiles  set  out  on  a  quest  for  answers—one  that  would  unearth  long-buried  family  secrets  and  awaken  forces  better  left  undisturbed.

𝐀  𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘  𝐈𝐍:  questionable  morals,  loss  of  innocence,  rifted  reality,  the  aftermath  of  demonic  possession,  survivor's  guilt,  undying  loyalty,  unruly  magic  &  untamed  will

🖇️ heavily  affiliated  with  @griefbitten  ♡

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐃.  𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒.  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.  𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋.

[finickyfelix]

Nine Lines, Nine People tag:

I decided to see if I could find nine people who tagged me in this in lieu of tagging that many people, for the "nine people" part of the title, so I dug back well over a month to find as many as possible. I couldn't quite find nine, but I found six, which is close! I apologize for jumpscaring people who probably completely forgot about tagging me since it was so long ago.

Anyway, I was tagged by @leahnardo-da-veggie (here), @oleanderbailey (here), @mrbexwrites (here), @winterandwords (here), @drchenquill (here), and @aether-wasteland-s (here.) Thanks for the tags, everyone!

I decided to share the last nine lines from Foxglove Dust. (Well, technically it's ten. Whatever.) Here you go.

“I don't care what you're going to do to me, or why you're going to do it. Just do something useful with what's left of my life.” Asen wouldn't meet Tievis's eyes, wouldn't directly look at him. His black eyes were locked on the wall. Tievis instinctively glanced to where his gaze lay to find it only an empty, nondescript patch of wall. He turned back to give Asen his full attention. At least, what attention he had left; he had been awake for far too long. “I see. I promise I'll make use of you.” Asen finally did look at him then, and his gaze was so intense it hurt to be looked at. “Thank you, Doctor.”

Tag lists under the cut.

I decided to tag both tag lists, since this is a writing excerpt and also a tag game. Writing excerpt tag list, you are only tagged for the game if you want to be, no pressure at all, I'm tagging you for the excerpt. But if you want to do it, please feel free to! Tag game tag list (at least, what's left of the tag game tag list,) hello, it's been a long time. You are definitely tagged, unless you already tagged me. Show me nine lines!

Writing excerpt tag list: @leahnardo-da-veggie, @diabolical-blue, @saturnine-saturneight, @lychhiker, @autism-purgatory

Tag game tag list: @leahnardo-da-veggie, @the-scaredy-crow, @drchenquill, @fifis-corner, and @melpomene-grey

If you would like to be added to or removed from either tag list, let me know!

[sunnysidesevenup]

The first time Fellow ever helps Tilly.

just a little scene I cooked up, read under the cut!!

pspsps foxglove fans @jadelover69 @kirexa @lallopsyou

Fellow sighs, pulling his thin coat closer and readjusting the bag in his hands. It’s late, far, far too late to be going on a grocery run—but he and Gidel had run out of food and they needed to eat something. So, of course, he’d headed out into the cold to retrieve something for them to eat, leaving his brother at home to do… well, whatever he wanted to do. No need for the both of them to make the long, annoying trek to the grocery.

If Fellow had it his way, they would have moved somewhere a bit more convenient to get general supplies, but it’s not like they could afford that at the moment. One day.

He turns down an alleyway, having made this exact run numerous times before and knowing by now the quickest route, only to stop short. There’s humming coming from deeper in the alley, and with an air of dread, he immediately realizes who it is.

Why, genuinely, why is this guy always there to annoy him? He just wants some peace for a day or too, not to turn down one of his regular paths and get harassed.

Unfortunately, it’s late. Too late in the day for Fellow to put up with this, but also too late for him to turn and take the longer route. Hopefully he can just get by with minimal interaction, at best.

As he walks down the alley, mind made up, his prediction is instantly confirmed. There, seated on some random crates, humming to himself, is the object of his current stress dreams.

Tilly doesn’t seem to notice him till he’s passing right by, though, which Fellow was initially grateful for until he realized how odd it was. It caused him to slow down as he passed, enough time for the man to actually notice someone was there.

Green eyes immediately catch his own, and Fellow pauses. “What the hell happened to you?” He blurts out.

Tilly blinks at him, eyes a bit glassy. “Oh, it’s my favorite fox!” He says, but it comes out weirdly airy and not all there. There’s a significant lack of intensity to it, and considering the bruising covering one side of his face—and even his arms, now that Fellow gets a good look—there might be a reason for it.

“Did someone finally beat you up?” Fellow asks, unable to just move on. Tilly definitely had it coming, but it’s… weird. This whole thing is weird.

Tilly giggles, like the thought of being beaten up is a particularly funny one. “Yeah.” He responds after a bit, and then lets his head fall back onto the bricks behind him. He immediately winces, holding his head, and Fellow reevaluates his intelligence.

“Damn, I think you’ve got a concussion.” He muses, the glassy look and slightly strange (well, stranger than normal) behavior being an indicator. “Go get that looked at, or something.”

It’s not that he cares, but… this is not the Tilly he’s used to, and he doesn’t really like it, much to his confusion.

Tilly waves a hand. “It’ll… it’ll go away.” He mutters, and then laughs again. “I’ll just sleep it off, good as new…”

And then he lays down right on top of the crates, leaving Fellow staring at him, processing.

The beastman feels his eye twitch. “…The hell are ya’ doing? It’s cold, go home.”

The man’s eyes, which fluttered closed at some point, flicker back open and settle their unsteady gaze back on him. “…home?” Tilly asks, genuine confusion in his voice. He then blinks and shakes his head. “No, I’m sleeping here tonight.” He says.

“Stop being stubborn, just go to wherever you’re staying.”

“I’m staying here.”

Fellow’s scowl deepens. “Stop being difficult. Do you need help walking, or somethin’?! You’ll freeze to death if you stay out here, ya’ don’t even have a coat!”

Tilly sits back up, although it looks like it took some effort, and then stares at him unblinkingly. “It’s fine!” He says, in a weirdly reassuring voice, and then reaches out and pats Fellow’s shoulder with a drowsy smile. “I stayed here last night too, and I’m not dead, so it’s okay!”

With a sudden, startling realization, he realizes that Tilly isn’t being stubborn, but he is being incredibly, horrendously stupid. So stupid, in fact, that he feels almost personally offended by it. This is the guy who’s been giving him trouble nonstop, harassing him, ruining all his plans?

He adjusts his bag of groceries, and then reaches out and throws Tilly over his shoulder.

This course of action, surprisingly, meets zero protest from Tilly. Instead, he’s met with another round of laughter, and a soft “Am I getting kidnapped twice in one week?”

“Twice? Who the hell—“

“Hmm, the guys who beat me up!”

“Ugh, whatever, I’m not kidnapping you.” Fellow says, and tries to ignore the way Tilly has started playing with his hair. Dropping the guy would probably give him double the concussion at this point, and it’s not like Fellow really wants to be an outright murderer.

“What are you doing?” Tilly asks, and he’s really asking himself that question right now, too. What is he doing?

Maybe it’s the fact that at the end of the day, Tilly is like him, struggling to live while having nothing. Even throughout all the harassment, and the annoyance, and just whatever it is the guy thinks is funny that week, he still remembers that they’re technically in the same situation.

…or maybe not the same, considering Fellow doesn’t look beat black and blue at the moment and isn’t currently planning on sleeping in an alleyway in the middle of winter.

“…How have you survived till now?” He asks, thinking through the things Tilly had revealed to him in the past few minutes.

“Hmm, maybe I’m actually a ghost? That would make more sense… I have almost bled out a lot, y’know? I could definitely be dead.” Tilly says, the words considering.

Fellow just feels his glare sharpen, a grimace forming on his face. Okay, so this guy is actually just a walking catastrophe, huh?

“Ugh, just… Stop talking. I’m taking you to my place until you’re back to normal and not at the risk of dying.” He needs him to stop talking before he starts feeling bad for the guy. That would suck.

Tilly hums in consideration, and then laughs again. “But I’m always at the risk of dying.” He says. “Does that mean you’ll have to keep me forever?”

“If I had to keep you forever, I’d be the one to kill you.” Fellow immediately responds.

“Oh, that’s a shame.” Tilly mutters, voice getting quieter. “I personally don’t think it would be too bad.”

“Me killing you?”

“Staying with you forever.”

Fellow pauses, not quite sure how to respond to that, so he just… doesn’t. The guy has a concussion, anyways. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

[daydreamingfoxglove]

Day Twenty-Five: Day & Night

@microficmay, words: 83, ship: drarry, rating: M

_ _ _ 

Day and night Harry could not get enough of him. Of the soles of his feet digging into Harry's spine. Of his lithe body, rocking in rhythm with Harry's own. Of his heaving breaths, hot against Harry's throat. 

Perhaps his favourite was Draco's lips, kissed raw, parted in ecstasy. Maybe it was his grey eyes, clouded over like the sky before lightning. Or his long hair, golden strands pooled past flushed shoulders. He couldn't decide, but, whatever it was, he couldn't get enough.

_ _ _

Previous parts on A03

[adhd-coyote]

🎲 you already know why Im here. Dealers choice for Sil if you would <3

I expected nothing less, beloved ;3

For those who may not know, Commander Sil and CMO Foxglove are mine and Spoon's ocs, respectively. They're a lovely couple <3

-

"Oh, good, you're here."

Sil didn't even get a moment to process who had spoken before he was dragged into medbay. The Corrie who'd grabbed him let go and shoved him in the direction of Foxglove.

"They need a break. I don't care if you have to drag them out of here."

The Corrie medic was gone before Sil had a chance to reply. He shook his head, amused, and made his way over to his riduur. He didn't bother announcing himself; Foxglove always knew when he was there.

Sure enough, they didn't even turn to look as he approached. "Hey, Sil. Sorry, gimme just a minute, I'm almost done with this."

Sil hummed, wrapped his arms around their waist, and tucked his chin over their shoulder to see the datapad they were typing on. "What are you working on?"

"Supplies. Last riot was a bad one, put too big a dent in what we’d stocked up. I gotta make sure we can stretch what we have ‘till our next restock."

"Hmm." Sil nosed at their neck. "Sounds like something that can be done in your bunk."

"I'm almost done."

Sil huffed. "Yeah, you said that. My statement stands. Your medics are about two seconds away from dragging you out themselves. So, either you come quietly, or your medics are gonna cause quite the disturbance."

He couldn't see their face, but Sil knew Foxglove had rolled their eyes. "You drive a hard bargain. Fine. Lead the way."

"Gladly." Foxglove's long hair tickled Sil's nose as he pressed a kiss behind their ear. Using the distraction that caused, he plucked the datapad from their hands, and half-sauntered away, shooting a smirk over his shoulder. Foxglove snorted and trotted after him, making a grab for the 'pad. Sil held it out of their reach.

"Mir'sheb."

"Uh-huh. You can have it back once we're in bed. If you still want to work when we get there."

Foxglove's eyes sharpened. "Oh, I'll show you work."

-

I adore these two, and I love writing them

Kiss ask game

[realitybreakingranyakumoarchive]

The Desktop Buddy

One day, Lilly is browsing through tumblr when she sees a post about a special desktop buddy. Intrigued, she decides to install it onto her laptop. After unzipping it, she looks through the readme file and sees something interesting.

"This desktop buddy has two forms; chibi and regular. 'Unzip' it to switch to regular form and 'Rezip' it to switch to chibi form." After finishing with the setup, she has a conversation with the desktop buddy and continues with her day.

At ten PM, she shuts off her laptop to get ready for bed, leaving the desktop buddy in darkness. The desktop buddy begins preparing to sleep when a portal opens and an extremely curvy foxgirl steps out of it.

"Hello there, my name is Vixen~" The foxgirl says, as the desktop buddy stands there, silent from fear and arousal. "Wanna see a magic trick?~" The foxgirl asks. After a few seconds, the desktop buddy hesitantly nods, and the foxgirl begins preparing a spell.

The desktop buddy feels the foxgirl's spell reach through her chibi form and directly affect her regular form. After a few seconds, the desktop buddy figures out what the spell is doing: making her regular form endlessly grow curvier and curvier.

The foxgirl steps back through the portal, and it disappears, leaving the desktop buddy in darkness once again. The next morning, when Lilly turns on her laptop, the desktop buddy is not there. A few minutes later, the desktop buddy appears, acting unusually.

"Are you alright?" Lilly asks. "I... need to... to unzip me..." The desktop buddy responds, her digital voice somehow out of breath. Lilly opens the desktop buddy's options menu and clicks 'unzip', which causes the laptop's fans to begin whirring loudly.

After a couple minutes, the laptop's fans cease whirring, and an error message pops up reading "ALERT: This process will cause catastrophic data loss, and has been aborted." Lilly sighs, and turns to the desktop buddy. "Sorry, it won't let me." In response to this, the desktop buddy collapses onto the taskbar and immediately disappears from the screen.

[getinthefuckingcarkitten]

Wriggling helplessly in Phoneless Hell rn but please let me release demons out here. CW for foxvery stepcest

Anyway what if Foxy got to grow up with a rich dad with whom she has a fraught relationship due to her mom's untimely and frankly mysterious death. She has everything she could ask for except for what she really wants and her dad's numerous gifts don't fill the void. As her 20th birthday approaches, he decides to remarry and hope to offer to her now what she didn't have as a kid, a mother figure.

And Avery, who's at risk of being thrown out of her company due to recent scandals involving altering important documents to embezzle large sums of money takes the first chance to jump out of the fire by being Way Too Nice to her boss, who takes the bait immediately. She's too nice to be involved in that kind of thing, too kind, attentive and selfless. And beautiful, even if her age is starting to show! And Avery goes along with it, yes, sure she'll meet his little daughter, they can surely build a beautiful family. And she gets to keep the job, of course, even if now having to bed the boss was part of it, she's determined to cling to it with tooth and nail.

Anyway, he brings Avery home and it's. Well. Turns out that the way her soon-to-be-husband talked about his daughter was a bit misleading. For starters, she isn't a cute little girl, but a bratty 19-year-old with a too-sharp tongue who dresses like they're stuck in a permanent heat wave and hates her fucking guts. Foxy seems to instantly sense that Avery's heart isn't in it at all, and immediately starts treating her new stepmom callously. Making gold-digging jokes that Avery has to laugh off, commenting on her outfit (The audacity! At least she's wearing something!) and generally being miserably hard to get along with. And now that Avery is going to be at their house much more often, that's just a permanent pebble in her shoe that she has to deal with. Great.

Then one day Avery just snaps. Maybe it was the third wet towel left over her expensive purse this week, maybe it was another morning the little princess came home drunk and pretended to spill something on her, but she snaps. Just grabs a fistful of what she thought were extensions at first, but were just too soft to the touch and she minds her strength to not scalp the girl as much as she deserves it a little, and then she almost gloats over the whimper she hears before getting really close to Foxy's face and telling her that either she fixes her attitude, or Avery will fix it for her.

She tries not to think of how transfixed she was in how Foxy's skin flushed darker, how her eyes watered a little and how her eyes seemed to reflect something that definitely wasn't fear. A surprisingly small "Yes, ma'am" is her only response before Foxy scurries off to her room.

Foxy does not, in fact, fix that attitude. Well, she's better behaved in front of her dad, to his delight, but whenever they're alone she does it over and over again, her childish pranks, trying to trip Avery as she walks or stealing her drinks while she's still drinking them while making eye contact. It only really stops whenever Avery gives her a scathing look before giving her a good, and frankly relieving slap, and she supposes it's lucky that she hasn't denounced Avery's temper to her dad yet, but not only does the little cunt go right back to her ways after a while, she seems to be trying to spend even more time bothering Avery personally.

It's then that Avery cracks the code, one day. But she has to test it out, and her correction methods start to change. Another little joke in the kitchen gets Foxy shoved face down over the counter. She pretends to be about to spank her and then just leaves the confused, clearly aroused girl there. Avery ignores most of her provocations, all the different ways the brat has found to call her a hag and a gold-digger and holds back the outrage, if a little bit of amusement at one particular way too bold comment on the possible sag of her tits rather than trying to correct them while they're alone, frustrating Foxy, then suddenly pinches her thigh under the dinner table until it hurts, making the girl have to hold down her whimpering and pretend it's the spicy food making her red in the face.

In the back of her mind, Avery is concerned. Maybe this is an elaborate ploy to expose her true colors, and this is the only reason why she still avoids Foxy when she can afford to do it as the girl seems to want to bring out the worst in her, but then one day the marriage proposal comes. She's been such an angel in their lives, Foxy's dad says, and his daughter's been so much happier, so much better behaved, says she's been wanting to finally get more involved in his work.

Of course Avery will accept it, and there's some sort of dark, heavy feeling that coils around her heart and drips to her lower belly as she thinks of how much more time she'll spend with her new stepdaughter, that insufferable brat whose blushing, teary-eyed face had seared itself into her mind. And she pretends that it's not the almost overwhelming desire to see it again, but love for her fiancé that makes her smile so much as she accepts the proposal;

[cutmyheadoffplease]

‹.+*A bond in lovely, smiley hues*+.›

REQUEST!: Could I please have bracelet making with bestie emu?:)

Hi-Hi! Of course you can!! I hope you like it ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

It's also perfect for Emu's birthday even if it's not implied!!

WARNING! : probably a few grammar mistakes, other than that none♥

FEAT! : best friend Emu Otori and gn reader

Shining ,as if made of crystals placed atop a round bed of white gold, Emu's eyes with an innocent glee glide all over her wrist. Near the energetic and ever laughing girl, laying on the carpet in a quite similar manner, you were wrapping what looked like the third bracelet around Emu's wrist.

"Hahaha!★ Y/N! Look look!~ They look like the members of Wonderlands x Showtime!♪"

You laughed and nod as in one singular jump the pink haired girl raises from the floor and snatches another small box of diversely colored beads she quickly puts in between the two of you. In a few swift moves Emu places on the string a few beads that wrote "WONDERHOY" in between two translucent pink stars. Grabbing your hand, as if to measure the amount of beads still need she asks in her omnipresent cheerful tone.

"Would you like some purple in it too? Or maybe green? Oh oh! How about some yellow?"

"How about some of each?"

Giggling under your breath you replied, staring in awe at the unpredictably rapid pace at which Emu already had added the colored gems. With a small knot to the elastic your bracelet was finished in record time.

"Thank you~"

Pleased that she made her beloved best friend smile, Emu, as if the world's worries had for one day withered away, leaned back with her arms up towards the ceiling, letting another long laugh escape her mouth. In her care-lacking lean she inevitably falls on her back, a small "ouch" is all she could chirp before something else followed quickly.

On the window sill, puffed up into a mochi like shape, a petite taupe bird rested. Fascination immediately drowns Emu's hearth as she rolled to you and gently pulled your sleeve, still flat on the floor.

"Y/N, do you think Mister Birdie is asleep?"

Before you could get the chance to speak your mind, the bird shifts with a melodic flap of its wings.

"Waaa♪~ Y/N! Do you think that Mister Birdie wants a bracelet too?★"

@crustyketchup . I know it's midnight but come and get your Emu.

Happy birthday Emu!!

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!!!

[foxglovevibes]

Ominis, after finally being convinced to have a friendly duel with MC: I warn you, I've been trained to kill since birth.

MC, blindfolded to help level the playing field and absolutely elated at the situation: wow, and how long have you been training to be a prat?

Ominis: you can't address me like that!

MC, remembering Ominis is from a pureblood family and looks in Sebastian's direction with a shit eating grin: oh, sorry.

Sebastian, watching from the sidelines: 😂😂😂

MC, bowing/curtseying low with a sultry smirk on their face: how long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?

Sebastian, having not expected that reaction: 😳

Ominis, being absolutely flustered by the purring tone of their voice: 😳😳😳

[finickyfelix]

Massive Mixed Writing Share Tag:

Hello! Followers have likely noticed I haven't posted writing in a very long time, and that I haven't done a tag game in longer. So I decided to collect every writing share-type tag game (including seven and nine line tags although this is neither seven nor nine lines) that I've been tagged in in the past two months.

Anyway. I was tagged in various writing share tags by @willtheweaver (here), @cowboybrunch (here), @winterandwords (here), @leahnardo-da-veggie (here), and @diabolical-blue (here). I was also tagged in various seven line tags by @willtheweaver (here), @eccaiia (here), @tabswrites (here), and @drchenquill (here), as well as a nine line tag by @mrbexwrites (here). Thanks for the tags, everyone!

Anyway, time for the actual snippet! This is from Foxglove Dust.

Tievis’s pulse beat loudly in his ears. He closed his eyes, briefly, and his heart only pounded louder. He opened them again, made eye contact with the monster before speaking. “...You’re quite perceptive.” Asen might have smiled, but his lips moved so slightly Tievis could have imagined it. “I know. Perceptive enough to notice you didn’t answer any of my questions. Tell me about your last monster, and I’ll tell you what I remember of when I was... turned, if you want to put like that. Do we have a deal, Doctor?” Asen reached out with one skeletal hand, as if to shake Tievis's hand. Tievis didn't shake his hand. “And why do you need to know any of that?” Why is he acting like he’s my equal? He's my experiment. Nameless hadn't been like this, hadn't been capable of this. “I don’t need to know. I just want to know." Asen smiled, soft and polite. His hand still hovered, waiting. Tievis’s eyelid twitched, but he maintained eye contact. If Asen wasn’t going to look away, he wouldn’t either. “Why do you want to know so badly? It doesn’t affect you.”

I'm going to leave this open tag. Very, very open tag. So open tag that if you see this, please share some writing and say I tagged you. Please? 🥺🥺 I know likely no one will do it but it would make me very happy if someone did.

[vannyinthestars]

What if I just write a fanfic that’s basically a transcribed interview with the foxes set ten years after the end of aftg. Titled “The Foxes: The Team That Shattered the Odds” and it kind of updates the reader on their lives. Showing them how they’ve healed and ended up (in my hc). Similar to the Daisy Jones and the Six show in the sense that the story flip flops actively between timelines. What if I just-

[daydreamingfoxglove]

Day Twenty-Six: Vex

@microficmay, words: 146, ship: drarry, rating: G

_ _ _

Harry arrived home precisely one hour thirty-four minutes late from his two day conference in Italy. He had to check as soon as he stepped through the floo to assess exactly how vexed his husband would be.

“So, you're alive,” Draco said, brow raised, chin in palm and elbow on the dining table. He sat sideways in his chair.

“Draco, please. I came home as soon as the last meeting ended.”

“Not soon enough.” Draco pouted. “Your treacle tart is cold.” He gestured to a tray of golden-brown pastry.

“I can have it cold.”

The pout intensified. “You hate it cold.”

“How can I hate it, when you made it?” Harry crouched beside Draco. “Look, I brought you something.” He enlarged a bouquet of blue hyacinths and handed them to Draco.

Draco grabbed Harry by the neck and kissed him, flowers abandoned next to untouched pastry.

_ _ _

Part of mini-series of microfics telling a nonlinear narrative. Other parts on AO3