#And it was supposed to be just a drabble with maybe 300 words; now it has 3000 words

[hacked-by-jake]

I don’t really want to say anything, but the song at the end of ep 10 doesn’t have to be sad. It would also fit absolutely perfectly to a damn hot sex scene. 👀

[joelscruff]

you know i don't mean it (joel miller x reader) 18+

welcome to my 300 follower celebration! \o/ i polled my followers on which character they'd most like to see in some new smut and joel won (not surprised). this was supposed to be a drabble but ended up getting a bit longer than i anticipated, hope you enjoy! summary: you and joel get off together. that's pretty much it. you also have some unresolved feelings for him and he's being closed off. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), praise kink (the term 'good girl' is used maybe 432534 times), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (but make it soft), mutual masturbation, come-play, come-eating, this is filthy word count: about 2.5k | ao3 link

"This is the last time," he mutters under his breath, belt buckle jangling as he lays down across from you, "We can't keep doin' this."

"Yeah, yeah," your hand is already buried in your panties, index finger lightly rotating against your clit, "That's what you said last week too."

He grunts and you watch as he slips his hand inside his jeans and palms himself, squaring his shoulders and trying to relax. He pretends he's doing this for your benefit, like its you who needs help getting off, as if he's not a middle aged man who hasn't been touched by a woman in years. And it's not like you haven't offered, you've genuinely tried to give yourself to him more than a few times, but it's simply a line he won't cross.

Other lines, however, are much easier to cross. It had started out relatively innocent, something that had happened completely by chance, or at least you both led yourselves to believe it was. You'd both had the same idea one night and had ended up getting off together in the same room, you in the chair beside the fireplace of the abandoned ski lodge you'd both been posted in, him on the couch.

"Are you -" he'd gasped into the darkness when he'd heard the wet sound of your fingers a few feet away, plunging in and out of yourself at a steady rhythm.

"Like you're not," you'd hissed back, "I'm not deaf."

"Thought you were sleepin'," he'd muttered, hand stilling on his cock where seconds ago he'd been stroking like his life depended on it.

"And that makes it less weird?"

He'd groaned, releasing himself and sitting up to squint at you in the darkness, "So what are you gonna do about it?"

You glared at him, not bothering to remove your hand from your underwear as you continued to finger yourself, breathing deeply, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going. And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."

After a few seconds of silence, he'd flopped himself back down on the couch and reached for himself again, fucking into his fist, "No talking," he said through his teeth, "Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"

"Deal," you'd replied, and roughly added a third finger as you watched the dark silhouette of him jacking himself off barely six feet away from you.

One night turned into two, turned into five, and now ten. It wasn't every night, only when you were on patrol together. You'd privately asked Tommy to make sure that Joel was your patrol partner as often as possible, because you felt "safer" with him... you're not sure if he'd really believed you.

You're back in the ski lodge again tonight, both of you situated on the couch in your usual positions, on opposite ends and facing each other. It's ridiculous how quickly it's taken you both to get used to these sessions, the casual feeling of it making it even hotter somehow.

"How many fingers are you using this time?" Joel murmurs, eyeing you where you're touching yourself, unable to fully see what he'd like to.

"Up to you," you breathe, still prodding your clit, "How many do you want me to use?"

"Three," he replies, and you watch as he pulls his cock free from the confines of his jeans, jutting large and solid against his stomach, "Real slow, then real fast."

You nod, lifting your hips up to pull your panties free and expose yourself to him, legs wide.

"Stick to my rhythm," he tells you, watching as you trail your middle finger through your folds, "If I stop, you stop. If I tell you to stop-"

"I stop," you answer for him, throwing him a smug smile, "Same rules as always."

He stares at you without speaking, just waiting. You get the hint and begin to slide your finger inside slowly, making eye contact with him under your lashes and smiling languidly. He fists himself just as slow, looking down at your finger and licking his lips.

"Slow enough for you?" you whisper, adding a second and grinning when his eyes darken, "Should I go a bit faster?"

"Not yet," he whispers, thumbing the head of his cock and fucking into his hand at the same pace as your finger, "Keep it nice and slow for me 'til I say so."

You obey, fucking yourself with your middle and ring finger at the slowest pace you can muster. No matter how annoying his orders are you always do as you're told, not because you're afraid of any sort of consequence, but because you like seeing him enjoy himself, seeing him take control. You've only known him for about six months but you've known for a while that he's been lacking any sort of control in his life for a long time; you're glad to be the one who can give it to him.

"Add your third," he whispers and you oblige, slipping your index inside yourself alongside the others, "Good girl," he breathes, "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

You nod, your smugness immediately starting to fade. When he talks to you like this, praises you, it's impossible to keep your hard exterior up for much longer, feeling yourself submit to him. In any other circumstance you love to challenge him, to argue, but in these moments it's the last thing on your mind. You do as you're told, and that's the end of it. He needs control, you need submission.

"Tell me," he whispers.

"I'm your good girl," you breathe, shivering and continuing to shove your fingers in and out at his pace.

He smirks, "Yeah you are."

You continue to fuck yourself at his painfully slow pace, watching him fist his cock at the same speed. He likes to tease you, to build you up until you're begging for it. You thumb your clit and start to whimper, legs trembling.

"Okay, faster now," he tells you, voice low and sultry, "Not too fast, though. Watch me," he tugs at his cock at a bit quicker of a pace, still much too slow for you but you can't do much else but obey him, mirroring him with the thrust of your fingers, "That's it, like that."

After several more thrusts he suddenly stops stroking himself, stilling in his palm. You groan, halting your movements, following the rules.

"How is it that you follow orders so God damn well when you've got your panties around your ankles?" he asks, voice rough, "Yet when we're actually patrollin' you don't listen to a word I say?"

"I'm not your good girl when we're patrolling," you reply with a teasing smile, "But I could be, you know."

He rolls his eyes, "Enough, it's not happening," he nods to your hand, still motionless at your core, "Play with your clit for a second, give me a chance to breathe."

There it is, the line he won't cross. You've already told him that you're willing to give yourself completely over to him, be exactly who he needs, but no matter how many times you try he just won't budge. It's disappointing, truly, because you really do like him. Sure, he's a bit of an ass, plus he's about thirty years older than you, but you've seen the side of him he doesn't show to others. Maybe only hints, but you've seen it. And you care about him.

"I don't do this with anyone else, you know," you whisper, pressing your index finger against your clit and rubbing small circles into it, "You're the only one I'd let treat me the way you do."

He looks at you curiously, raising an eyebrow, "I treat you good, don't I?"

You nod, whimpering a bit as you rub yourself harder, "You do, but you're the only one I'd ever submit to like this, you know that, right?"

He hums, brushes the wide head of his cock with the tip of his thumb, "I know, baby. But it feels so good, doesn't it? You like being my good girl, don't you?"

You bite down on your lip, core aching as your fingers lay still against your folds, save for the index that continues to furiously stimulate your clit, "I do," you whisper, cheeks warming, "I fucking love it."

"There you go," he murmurs softly, then begins to move his fist again, "Use your fingers again, baby, get your pussy all full for me."

You don't need telling twice, your three fingers plunging deep inside yourself without any hesitation. You whimper when your fingertips brush against your favorite spot, so close yet so far. You eye Joel's cock and try to imagine what it would feel like for it to really be inside you, the fat tip of it pounding relentlessly against the deepest parts of your cunt, his girth stretching you out so much your whole body would be shaking. You feel your mouth drop open involuntarily, brow furrowing.

He follows your gaze and frowns at you, pumping himself a bit faster, "You can't have it," he whispers, like he can read your mind, "I know you want it, pretty girl, but you can't. I'm sorry."

"Why?" you mewl, sounding absolutely pathetic as you keep fucking yourself, "I want it so bad, Joel."

"I know you do," he closes his eyes and leans his head back, "Don't ask me why, you just can't."

You'd pout, tease him a little, but he's not looking at you anymore and it physically makes you ache, the way he avoids any allusion to actual sex, an actual relationship. You've asked him so many times and it's always the same answer, never a real reason. You wish you knew why, wish you knew if there was anything at all you could do to make him open up to you.

Instead you mirror his position, tilting your head back against the arm of the sofa and fucking up into yourself, listening to his labored breathing and the slap of skin whenever his fist hits his belly.

"Fast as you can now, baby," he mutters gruffly, close to the edge, "Need you to come for me, need you to be good."

"I'm always good for you, aren't I?" you whimper, opening your eyes to peer at him again, "I always listen, I never break your rules."

"That's right."

"So why can't you fuck me?" you sit up suddenly, yanking your fingers out of yourself and looking at him angrily. He sits up just as quickly, eyes narrowing as he releases his cock and stares at you, "I'm serious, Joel. I want an actual answer."

"You just broke a rule," he mutters and you sigh exasperatedly.

"I'm sorry for breaking the rules," you genuinely mean it; you know how important this control is for him, but you can't help it, "I'll submit again if you just tell me why you won't fuck me. Do you...do you not want me? Is that it? 'Cause I can accept that, I just want to hear you say it. I'm sick of not knowing."

He stares at you incredulously, hand coming up to squeeze the space between his brow and nose, "Jesus, of course I want you, but it's not that simple."

"Yes it-"

"It's not," he interrupts you, shaking his head, "I can't...this isn't..." he exhales deeply, "This isn't the time for this conversation, okay?" You hear raw emotion in his voice, buried deep but still present. Fuck, you didn't mean to make him feel bad.

"...Okay," you finally whisper, "I'm sorry."

"S'okay," he runs a hand through his hair, "Look, we can stop-"

"No," you lean back and open your legs wide again, putting yourself on display for him, "No, I wanna be your good girl again, please let me."

"We don't-"

"Joel," you whimper, slipping your fingers back inside, "Let me be your good girl."

His hard expression fades, eyes softening as he peers at you, watching you fuck himself for him.

"It's all yours, even if you won't touch me," you whisper, using your other hand to pull yourself open for him, showing him how full you are, feeling your orgasm start to build in your tummy, "It's yours," you repeat, whimpering.

He nods, stroking himself again hard and fast, brow furrowing in pleasure as he keeps his eyes trained on you, "That's right," he murmurs, "It's mine. You're mine."

You close your eyes tight, "I'm gonna come."

"Go ahead, pretty girl," you hear him groan, the snap of his wrist making you completely come undone, "Squeeze around those fingers, pretend they're mine, okay? You can do that, you can pretend."

You shudder at his words and feel your orgasm overtake you, the image of Joel's thick fingers pounding into you enough to send you over the edge. You moan loudly, crying out his name and tossing your head back as you come.

"Good girl," he groans, voice strangled, "Such a good fucking girl for me."

You close your eyes as you ride out the waves of your release, fingers still pumping gently inside of you until it's too much and you pull them out. Sighing contentedly, you open your eyes again and watch Joel relentlessly fuck into his fist, belt buckle still jangling against the couch as he gasps. You want nothing more than to reach forward and take him in your own hand, help him ride out his own release, but you don't. Because those are the rules.

Instead you just watch him, smile at him as he shuts his eyes tight and groans deeply, coming into his fist. You watch the thick white liquid cover the sides of his fingers and you involuntarily salivate, jaw going slack.

"Fuck," you breathe, "Wish I could taste you."

He groans again, hand stilling as he breathes heavily and starts to come down, eyes closed. You sit quietly, panties still hanging off one of your ankles. You'd usually already be putting your clothes back on at this point, but something tells you to stay still, don't move, he's gonna do something different.

He swallows and looks up at you, stares at you for a few moments. You're unsure whether the regular Joel is about to come back, tell you it's time to go back on patrol, grab your gun and be quiet. Or is this still your Joel, the one who tells you you're pretty and good, makes you feel less alone in this shitty world.

"Here," he says, shaking his head and bringing his come-coated fingers up to your mouth, "If you wanna taste, you have five seconds."

Your mouth pops open in surprise, hesitating only for a second before you lean forward and wrap your lips around his fingers, feeling the salty taste of him flood your mouth. Your cunt begins to throb again, your eyes closing as you suck and lick and take everything he's giving you. When you open your eyes again he's still looking at you, but his expression is soft, tender.

"Good girl," he murmurs.

this is now a series, and other parts can be found on my masterlist.

[robinsno1lesbian]

Buckley brainrot is SO REAL rn so here’s some thots HAVE FUN

Imagining going to a romance movie with Robin and she insists y’all sit in the back so you do and you’re now halfway through the movie and her hand is under your skirt and she’s already coaxed out one or two orgasms from you and she’s trying to make it a record and you’re biting your lip so hard to keep the moans in and she says

“Gotta be quiet baby, someone can turn around and see the mess you’re making.”

And when the movie finishes you get up and start blushing as you gently push Robin to usher her out quickly so no one asks about the wet spot on your seat and I-😵‍💫

robin buckley x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1225

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content! (MDNI), (semi?) public sex, fingering, squirting, petnames, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, not proofread

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: sorry for my other asks still waiting in my inbox but this one had to be prioritized for all the amazing writing @maladaptive-day-dreams has done for me in the past few days!! the robin brainrot is REAL- this was supposed to be a 300-500 word drabble but i got a little too carried away with your request-

when she first put her palm to your thigh you didn't mind. it wasn't often that she got physical with you in public, hawkins in the 80s most definitely isn't the place and time for lesbians. but in the darkness of the movie theatre, it felt safe enough. your seats are in the very back of the room, and, besides, hardly anyone else is at the movies today. you've seen a young couple somewhere close to front row and maybe a handful of other people. but none of them are close enough to see the hand on your leg. and they aren't close enough to see the way robin moves closer to you until she has her lips pressed against your neck, leaving a trail of hot and wet kisses. "robin" you hiss under your breath. "we can't-" but when her hand moves further up your leg you shut it, your hips rolling against her for more. your girlfriend chuckles against your neck as she caresses your skin- "yeah..." she mumbles at that first hip roll. "that's what i thought" you know just how wet you are when she presses her fingers to your pantie-covered entrance and looks at you with mock surprise. "who would've known" she whispers. "that y/n y/l/n was into getting fucked in the movie theatre..." "i- uhm- I'm not" but there really is no point denying it when she pulls your panties down your spread legs and pockets them, before using her index- and middle finger to spread you open for her. "and you're so fucking wet too" robin's raspy voice is right next to your ear. you can't see her hand, your skirt turns out to be an amazing cover for what's happening underneath, you can only feel it when she spreads your lips apart and dips a finger down to your entrance. you gasp and she hushes you immediately. "shit gotta be quiet for me..." she looks around but no one seems to be paying any attention. "we wouldn't want them to hear" now what you think she means is that she will turn this into a quick little thing before focusing her attention back on the movie. you think she will make quick work of flicking your clit and finish you off in record time. what you don't think is that she will fuck you through multiple orgasms in a now, without stopping for once. after your first orgasm, you are sweat soaked and have a hand thrown over your mouth to hold back the noise. you look at her as if you're expecting her to withdraw her hand. she doesn't. robin gives you a wicked grin and pumps her fingers into you again. your eyes widen in surprise and you bite down on your hand. you mouth a "robin...please" but robin knows better. she knows you want this and she can tell by the way her fingers meet no resistance at all that you don't just want but need to cum again. your walls flutter around her skilled fingers at one particularly deep thrust. you're thankful for the loud volume of the movie that's playing. otherwise, the whole room would hear the wet noises from between your thighs. with your eyes rolling back and your grip tightening around the armrest of your seat, you cum again. you arch your back off of your seat and bite down on your lip so hard you're almost certain it'll draw blood. robin watches in amazement, her fingers gathering all of your cum and arousal and pushing it right back into your aching cunt.

you squirm when she pushes them back inside and a small whimper falls from your lips. it's all becoming too much and yet not nearly enough to feed your hunger for more...more of her touch, more of those sensations that are washing over you like waves...more of robin. robin, whose brows furrow when you whimper. regardless of how quiet it is, she stops her movements for a second to warn you; "gotta be quiet baby, someone can turn around and see the mess you’re making" and you sure are making a mess, your wetness running down your thighs and soaking right through the thin fabric of the skirt and into the seat. she pulls out of you and collects your arousal on her fingertips, moving upwards. you nod your head, willing to do anything robin asks of you as long as this does not stop. you can feel your overstimulated cunt throbbing, but you want to give her that. you want to make robin proud and give her one more. you know it's there, coiling in your lower abdomen as she circles your clit slowly. "will...will be so quiet" you breathe, with your head falling back against the wall behind you. "please" "oh i know you will" she smiles. "good girl" and, as she says it, robin pushes her fingers back into you, watching every single one of your reactions.

"you're gonna give me one more yeah...? yeah...?" she whispers the words so sweetly, as if she isn't pushing her fingers into you, perfectly timed with every word. and each time they seem to go deeper than before, hitting that spot of yours a little too well. "y-yes" you nod your head with your eyes closed. "look at me" robin mumbles. "please- i wanna see your face when i set this new record of making you cum" under other circumstances, this remark might've earned her a giggle but you can't. you can't. you can hardly open your eyes, but force yourself to do so anyway. the sight in front of you is a delight; robin has been watching you the entire time and, judging by the look on her face, she's getting just as much pleasure from this. "gonna cum...gonna cum..." you mouth, your lips parting when you feel the beginning of third orgasm washing over you and when she angles her hand the slightest bit different, causing the heel of her hand to hit against your clit with each one of her thrusts, you cum. hard. so fucking hard that you lose control over all your body does. you throw your palm over your mouth to hold back the moans, wishing robin could hear how good she's making you feel. but robin doesn't need to hear, not when she can feel and see. the last thing you notice before everything does dark is a weird, new sensation of fluids leaving your body and gushing against her hand. your orgasm is still rippling through you but you are aware enough to be extremely embarrassed for this mess. "oh my god- oh my god-" you whisper, brought back to reality by that feeling. you are mortified and bring your palms up to hide your face. but robin looks down at you in amazement. "holy shit y/n..." she whispers. "fuck- that was- that was the hottest thing ever" "i- i never did this before i-" you stutter. "it's-" but robin grabs your wrists and pushes you up. "i need to have you...right now...screw this movie..." she pulls you out of the seat and walks first, leading the way out of the cinema. all you can do is turn around one last time to see the mess you've made on the seat. god, you really hope no one will ask about it on your way out.

[nine-blessed-hero]

WIP Wednesday Saturday

Tagged by @wispstalk, TY <3

I thought I'd try something a bit different for this.

While The Ruby Falls is sitting on a shelf for Dec, I know I'm going to go nuts if I don't write something. So I thought I'd list all the TESIV: Oblivion WIPs I have kicking around, and maybe someone can offer an opinion on which to work on next.

There are 19 of them, so I've popped them under the cut in order of oldest to most recent.

Not Alone

Rin needs to learn to rely on the Blades, Baurus, and Martin a bit more. This was supposed to be my contribution to the tiny collection of HoK/Martin/Baurus fics but I am a coward and stopped writing. I'm halfway through an estimated 30k fic. This thing has no plot, only problems.

My Blade for Thee, Your Son to Be

Rather than become a Sanguinite after leaving the Arcane University, Martin is instead made a Blade. ~3,500 words already in. Naively, the expected wordcount was 5k. I think it's going to end up closer to 10k though. Fun Fact - the Prisoner in this version was the genesis for Aderyn in MOAU.

talis wants some shrooms

Talis has petitioned the Fighters Guild to go harvest some mushrooms for a project. Rowan and Cygwen oblige. About halfway through a 7k fic.

Learning to Shoot

Modern AU. Baurus teaches Marti to shoot a pistol while Aderyn is off getting her ass kicked by Mythic Dawn Cultists. This is supposed to be a look at the growing attraction between CEO and Bodyguard but *cries in "can't write men, gay, or flirting"*. Expected wordcount ~5k

Cloud ruler temple pov

Inspired by a random post, this will be about what Cloud ruler temple thinks about the Oblivion MQ & its occupants. ~800 words. Not started, not sure who the HoK would be for this one.

subtecxt practice 2

Neither Rowan nor Modryn can sleep, and the why is revealed through subtext. This was an exercise that I never completed because I was struggling with plot. Currently at 200 words, probably another 300 words in it.

Alchemist vs botanist debate

Intended to be a one-shot, of ~800 words. An alchemist & a botanist argue about invasive species from the Shivering Isles. Inspired by a post by @/cyrodiilproblems. Not started.

"How was your day?"

A random prompt I found that I thought would be fun to write for MOAU. Got no further than that.

Discovery/ Talis

A request from an Anon, over a year ago now :( I started writing it about the fact low pressure makes the dough Talis is working with do something different, but the premise isn't working for me anymore. Probably going to be closer to 500 words.

Anocar

A vague request to another fanwriter for more about this funny little wizard. I was thinking of pairing this with the "confession" prompt from TESFest22, but I never got far with an actual plot. Probably around 1000 words, featuring K'Rin. Not started.

Schemer the Murder Rat

According to the UESP, Schemer, the pet rat of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, has the rank of Murder, implying he's completed at least one contract. This is supposed to explore how, why, and what the fuck. Not started, probably another shot piece.

Get up

MOAU. Baurus needs rescuing from a burning building. 79 words into a 500-word drabble.

a comercial for shampoo

MOAU. The Blades find a shampoo commercial Martin starred in during his Sanguin days. Inspired by the comments on someone's fanart that I didn't record Q.Q So I'll need to hunt it out to give proper credit. 150 words into ~800-word fic.

Self-Indulgent AU

Aderyn is Martin's kid. I'm currently 14,055 words through this 1,000-word fic. It's nearly finished though, so maybe it'll be a nice round 15k? I just need to stop resisting writing the end.

caring for trees

Lucien talks to his Apple Trees and tells them of the murders they've assisted in. One-shot, inspired by a post from @/ciceroandlucien, estimated at 800 words.

Talis' Sister

Inspired by the ask I got a few days ago. Talis' younger sister, a mage at the arcane uni, sneaks out to see her brother & his pastries. But mostly to his pastries. Estimated 800 words.

[dreamofthe-wild]

20 Questions for Writers

Tagged by @faelynny (nerd) 1. How many works do you have on AO3? 33 as of this post. 2. What's your total AO3 word count? 35,905, it seems low for the amount of works i've posted, but I have some old 100-300 word drabble challenges posted and a few crack fics.

3. What fandoms do you write for? I used to write for Linked Universe (LOZ), but I don't anymore. Right now I am writing actively for Genshin Impact and I have some unposted Fire Emblem Three Houses fics in the works.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? - some things can't be solved by being cut with a sword (376) - you probably couldn't see for the lights but you were staring straight at me (234) - if i had a boy (207) - mighty pumpkin soup for the soul (194) - pouring out a cold one for your homie (170) (all are Linked Universe)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to when I can, if I can come up with an answer then 9 times out of ten I will respond. Sometimes I even just comment to thank them for reading. I won't be holding conversation threads much though.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? There are definitely angstier ones that haven't been posted, but I'd say probably you mean nothing to me, it has an ending where essentially one of the characters sacrifices himself to bring back the rest of his team from the dead and wishes he had never met them to spare him the heartache, it ends with him dying alone and with regrets.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? It's not posted yet, but my Genshin Fic "Our Converging Paths", after a tense battle, the characters end up bonding on their way back home.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I have before, but no one can hate my fics as much as I do /hj/jk I just kinda delete the comments and block, because if my fic is causing them that much distress that they need to comment that, then maybe it's for the best that they can't interact with it anymore. /lh

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do not, but the closest I've gotten is writing a crack fic about how a character's ass jiggles.

10. Do you write crossovers? I may have one or two in the works but they aren't my favorite, I generally like to write things that could be plausible in canon, where canon has left things unfortunately empty.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes but it was way before my ao3 account, on wattpad someone was stealing my fic and I ended up just deleting my account lol.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but I wouldn't say no.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, but none have ever been finished or posted.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? I don't ship things very often, and can probably count my ships across all fandoms on just my two hands, but right now my all-time favorite ship would have to be Dimitri/Claude (fire emblem)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? I was working on a fic about the First Link and Hylia and it turned into a cool medieval political drama with heavy fantasy elements, but I don't think it will ever get done.

16. What are your writing strengths? I have been told I'm really good at dialogue and banter.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Finishing fics lol/hj I'd say seriously that being descriptive of the environment is very hard, I can describe a wound or a situation fairly decently, but trying to make the world exist and not make it feel like this is happening in some dark void is difficult.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I never have, because I only know English, but if it is done well and not just some random google translated phrases thrown into a fic at random, I think it can add a lot to a story.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Technically my first fanfiction was about Hetalia. But, I've basically wiped my old fanfics' existence from history, so now I suppose I could say Linked Universe.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written? It is still in progress, I have a story about Dimitri that will come out eventually, but I haven't been able to work on it recently, I don't know who to tag lol I don't use tumblr really that often.

[applesontheground]

please might I humbly request

the Sinclairs with a reader who's group is making fun of them and calling them ugly cause they got a lot of... like, pimples, sores, and scabs from picking/scratching their face? and their group specifically calling them out on how it's the reader's own fault, that they should "just stop picking".

I'm just really struggling with this bs right now and my brain is mean

and I love seeing my favs get protective maybe

of course! always like a good ol' three brother prompt. sending you some love anon, sorry your brain’s not being nice.

p.s. i did the blurb format if that's alright!! ;;

the sinclair brothers & acne scarred reader (gn pronouns) 🕯️

SFW | Word Count: 1,070 (separate drabbles at around ~300-400 words for each brother)

The sigh leaving your chest was heavy, one that sat at the bottom of your stomach. You tried to brush off the countless comments that you had to hear today from the group you were now in a goose chase with to get your car fixed. They’d be fine enough if you didn’t have to listen to one of them find the need to remind you of your bad habits, a throbbing patch of skin on your lower cheek now taking up your senses as you burned with embarrassment.

Up until now, the mechanic who had been kind enough to help with the trouble had been mostly quiet, occasionally popping out from under your hood to mumble something you didn’t catch, assuming it wasn’t aimed towards you. This time, though, it had been.

“Know it’s none of my business, but-“ He glanced off at your group of friends who had wandered out of earshot, sneering slightly as he turned back to you, “Weird way they’re talkin’ to you. Just got me itchin’ from standing around, hearing them go on about it.”

You furrowed your brow, “About what?”

He rolled his shoulders a bit, eyes fixated on your expression as he huffed, “Your face, I suppose.” You almost flinched at the way he squinted in a snap of a motion. “Nothin’ wrong with it, don’t know why it’s suddenly the business of…your friends, ‘m guessing?”

You huffed, “…Yeah, they’re my friends.”

“Right.” He nodded along, but you could see the uncertainty in his pursed lips as he turned away. Some friends, his eyes seemed to say before finally breaking off again, looking at your car with his broad back facing you again.

One of them stumbled back from the uneven roads where they were pacing, and muttered, “Come on, [Y/N]. Leave the guy to do his thing, let’s go look at that wa-“

“Need one of you to stay here, answer some questions about this dang model and how it runs.” He cranked something in the car extra loud to shut the man up if his words didn’t do the trick, glancing at him over his shoulder as the tense silence successfully got him by the throat.

He stood straight again, turning around to show the smile unable to go too far, eyes narrowing again to fake a harmless countenance, but only causing him to look more unnerved. “Y’all can run along if you want.” He glanced back to you, edge immediately slipping off of him the moment his eyes fixed on someone else as he offered, “How about you stay here, they go?”

Your friend tried to answer, but it was finally enough to make you speak for yourself for a change. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

One comment too many made you clear your throat, glaring at your friend as the silence settled over yet another ill-placed comment. The shame was boiling in your chest, threatening to manifest into yelling, to tears, to something far too messy for a museum. It was like he thought you didn’t know what your own face looked like, and even if the habits were bad and mindless, you were still aware it wasn’t good to do.

“Are you going to tell me again, or…?” Breaking the silence, you gave a hard tone to the person who had made this expedition with you, but he just brushed you off and paced out of sight. A lump sat in your throat, the awareness causing your skin to burn right under your eyes as they twitched slightly.

You then glanced towards the far wall of the room, catching a side profile of…someone. Not necessarily looking like you, but you could recognize a drawn line on the painted face of the canvas where the colors changed from neutral skin tones to crazy patterns, red and white pulling over the half looking out from the painting itself. It made a weird pang replace the hurt you felt, because there was a solidarity with where your mind was taking the knee-jerk interpretation.

Is this how they saw less than perfect?

From the corner of your eye, you jolted when you caught something walk after your cohort. Stare turning towards it, there was nothing but a dark descent down the hall to the rest of the museum, and no other person. You only heard the idle conversation your friend was now having with himself from the other room. Shaking the hunch off, you tried to assure yourself that it was a wax museum.

Nothing besides the living moved in a wax museum.

“Y’talk about anything else?”

Just when you felt like your emotions were about to pour from your mouth like lava, you turned back around and saw the driver looking past you, right at your friend. “Huh?” Your friend’s eyes also skimmed over you at the sound of him speaking, that bumbling Southern accent already making his ire turn, “Want to say that again, bud?”

You sputtered, trying to speak with a twisting face and crossed arms compressing your chest. This guy’s doing us a favor by helping us find someone to help patch the window on your car. Shut up, shut up-

The driver, a name slipping your mind but that dirty look embedded in the muddy brown color of his eyes solidifying in your mind, cleared his throat, “I said, do you know how to talk ‘bout anything besides their dang face?” He turned back to the road, and mumbled in a quieter tone, “Ain’t that big a problem, if you ask me.”

“Well, we didn’t ask you.” Your friend squared his shoulders in his seat, pushing you a little closer towards the other man, and you dared to whip towards him and spat, “You didn’t ask.” You felt those eyes on the back of your head now as you added, “How about we all just be quiet, huh? I’m very aware I have a bad habit, so can you just shut up about it?”

Before betrayal could cascade off his expression and sink into yours, you now stared straight ahead, fighting the urge to use one hand to set on your chin, hand curling against your complexion to cover yourself.

“...Sounds fine to me.” The driver spoke quietly, and when you tried to give him an apologetic glance he was already staring at you from the side, but he didn’t look mad necessarily.

More impressed than anything.

[juergenklopp]

AO3 YEAR IN REVIEW – 2021

Tagged by @antonios-hair @whitewolfcraft @ultrasofts @dantteri thank you so much belovedestest <3

Stories Posted: 5 (+ 3 drabbles backdated)

I have/had so many ideas and WIPs that never saw completion in 2021, it’s not been a great year creative-wise for me unfortunately on top of already being a notoriously slow writer. But the ones I put out there, I am actually proud of, and hey, maybe the WIPs I started can be finished this year... Pspsps brain juice for Football AU and [redacted] and [redacted]...

Word Count: 35,177, which is way more than I thought it was? Wow? Pats in the back for past me, they’re not doing too bad.

Most Kudos: your color, my armor, I recently reread the fic and even though I’m not too sure about it anymore now for how dramatic and convoluted it reads, I still like it and I think I captured the dynamics somehow despite its brainrottyness. The influence is clear, I was reading Baldwin, Carson, and Rilke at the time and I suppose I tried and failed to achieve that lofty, poetic, literary feel to it when it’s literally smut and not that deep smh

Longest Story: en garde at 11,440 words. Ah, Fencing AU beloved. I was eyeballs deep researching fencing it actually made me a fan of the sport! It took so many years off my lifespan but I had tons of fun writing it and making up my own little universe of drivers as fencers. Let’s go Team GB let’s go!

Shortest Story: when you’re through thinking at 300 words. For a notoriously wordy writer I think I managed to hit my peak efficiency here. May the future hold more of this energy.

Personal Favorite(s): I am equally proud of all my fic progeny... but if I had to pick, probably rose, quartz, mirrored hearts. I wasn’t sure whether to post it in the first place or de-anon it... I think I managed to tie together the thematic strands and tackle topics so personal to me (gender woes, career angst, being worthy of love just the way you are, being enough) while staying true to the dynamics of the characters? I hope? Oh and, Enzo the Cat. Best OCC. Thank you to Anonymous Writer Whose Identity I Definitely Do Not Know for writing the fic that inspired it! (ALSO listen to the podfic actually! Weep... thank you M. Nat...)

2022 is the year of growth and actually being proud of your creative output. May the words flow and thank you so, so much for checking any of my stuff out (and sorry for not replying to comments for like, a calendar year, I get so overwhelmed and my brain just shut down... I will try to be better at that and also at commenting!) <3

I think almost everyone I know has done this but in case you haven’t, @powertrains, @toyotagazoo, @gordiewowe, @acrosstobear, @tetrapod7, you’re up if you’re keen! No pressure as always!

[taetaespeaches]

maybe just a soft little thing about holding jungkook’s hand for the first time?🥺

“I don’t know why you’re presenting that as a threat.”

jungkook x reader (or oc)

genre: fluff

word count: 928

a/n: Ok, this was legit just supposed to be like a 300 word thing about holding his hand and then it turned into this… I made this part of my long-term guk x reader couple. This drabble takes place in a laundromat, and here’s why: I have a whole plan for guk and his girl to meet in the laundry detergent aisle in a grocery store, and they eventually start having laundromat dates because it’s a way that they can both pass off their dates as “just laundry”. Anyways, those haven’t been written yet, but here’s a little glimpse into this couple. I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading and thanks for requesting :))

THERE he was, standing in his all black fit, bomber jacket with an oversized t-shirt underneath and black skinny jeans and combat boots, looking like the emo man of your dreams, yet he was so timid with a blush set on his cheeks.

“Are you gonna get this awkward every time I fold my delicates?” You teased him, Jungkook giggling in response. You nudged him with your hip, Jungkook blushing even more as he focused on his own laundry, avoiding setting his gaze on your underwear and bras.

The laundromat seemed to be perfect at that time of night, completely empty, allowing Jungkook to be relatively relaxed as you both did your chore in each other’s presence.

“This is only the second time we’ve done laundry together, you have to give me a chance to get used to this,” he told you shyly. He was adorable, really, attempting to gain his composure as he folded his plethora of black and dark-colored clothing.

Grinning to yourself, you finished folding your underwear before you leaned against the folding table, crossing your arms as you stared at the man who was still folding his clothes.  

Looking to his side, his eyes widened before he bashfully smiled. “What?”

You simply shook your head, reaching out to take a half-folded t-shirt out of his hands. “Want help?” You asked as you started folding the shirt.

Jungkook’s smile widened as he nodded, but before he could give you a verbal response, his stomach interrupted him with a loud growl.

Both yours and Jungkook’s eyes widened and he let out a, “Jesus,” his hand grasping his abdomen, making you giggle. “Today was busy, I didn’t get to eat lunch today,” he explained.

Shooting him a glare, you shook your head. “Don’t make me get all nurturing on your ass, I’ll do it. I do know how to cook, and I’m not afraid to subject you to it.”

“I don’t know why you’re presenting that as a threat,” he giggled, “that sounds amazing.”

Smiling, you grabbed his hand. “Come here,” you told him as you began leading him across the laundromat. He allowed you to drag him, smiling widely as you did so. Standing in front of the vending machine, you tugged Jungkook’s hand so he was standing next to you. “What do you want?”

Jungkook shot you an innocent look as a small “huh?” slipped from his lips.

“I’m buying you dinner,” you smiled. “What do you want?”

Turning to scan the many rows of junk food inside the lit-up vending machine, Jungkook smiled brightly in a way that made his eyes sparkle. “I’ve never had a girl buy me dinner before,” he said cutely. “And in the form of vending machine cuisine?” He joked, “Wow, nurture me, baby.”

Baby?! Did this god dressed in all black with sparkling eyes just call you baby?!

When his hand shifted in yours, intertwining his fingers with your own, it was your turn to be nervous as your heart pounded against your chest. His palm was warm against your own and as he soothed his thumb overtop the back of your own, you felt giddy and excited.

As you were staring down at his hand holding yours, Jungkook asked you, “What’s your favorite kind of poptart?”

Looking up at him in surprise, you were met with his amused gaze as you questioned, “mine?”

His smirk showed that he was becoming increasingly more confident, receiving an ego boost from your suddenly shy demeanor. “Yeah, yours.”

“Hot fudge sundae,” you told him, eyeing his body language, noticing that he stood a little taller than before.

“Hey, that’s my second favorite,” he said happily. “Do you like brown sugar cinnamon too?” You nodded, holding back a fond grin. “Perfect,” he giggled. “C4 and C6, please. We can share,” he told you, nodding to the vending machine. “I refuse to eat alone.”

Chuckling, you nodded. “Is this you nurturing me now?” you asked as you inserted the money into the machine, Jungkook squeezing your hand.

“Get used to it,” he joked as one of the pop tarts fell with a thud. “Just so you know, I’ve never had a girl buy herself dinner in the form of vending machine cuisine either,” he teased as the second pop tart fell.

“I feel so special,” you grinned as you bent over to grab the snacks, Jungkook refusing to let go of your hand as you did so. “Your dinner, kind sir.” You handed him the brown sugar one as you began leading him back over to the folding table.

“You don’t want to eat at this little table here?” He asked, looking toward the small sitting area as you as you both walked toward the folding table.

“Nah uh,” you shook your head, turning to face Jungkook as you leaned against the table again, your hand still in his. “I want my panties in your line of vision so you’ll stop being a cocky bitch,” you told him, triggering Jungkook to immediately throw his head back in laughter at the comment.

“Jesus, you’re gonna keep me on my toes,” he said through his cackling, the comment dripping in affection.

“Maybe,” you smirked, looking up and down his frame, and then at his hand still holding onto yours. “You’re gonna be keeping me on mine too, though, aren’t you Kookie.”

And under your warm gaze with your cheeks tinted pink, his own became flushed again, both of you nervous and excited and looking forward to teasing each other for a very long time to come.

[msmkcreates]

"The Chase" (SpicyHoney Drabble)

Pairing: Spicyhoney

Rating: T/M for language

Warnings: Papcest implied

I've been unable to get an idea to stick these last few days, all I have clanging around are 300-800 word tidbits so here ya go

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

"wanna fuck?"

Not entirely innocent words, but Boss assumes they were said with the innocent intention of bothering him. He only leveled a glare at where Stretch was lounging across the living room chair.

"WHY ON ANY OF THE EARTHS WOULD I WANT TO FUCK?" He snarled, frustration still raw from their earlier spat. "FURTHERMORE WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT I'D BELIEVE YOU WANT TO FUCK ME? WEREN'T YOU JUST CALLING ME A, WHAT WAS IT...REAL-LIFE MURDER HOBO?"

"so you're saying if i could convince you i wanted to, you'd fuck me?" He asked, smirking in that infuriating manner he always does.

"NO." He said simply, turning back to his book and silently willing Blue to be home quickly. He'd only come downstairs for the promise to watch some cooking shows with him, they were slowly becoming rather good friends and he enjoyed the leisure of the Swap verse. Being stuck here hadn't been so bad, yet, even Stretch and his digs at Boss' LV usually weren't enough to drive him away...usually.

Today was a pretty close call, though.

"you sure about that?"

Boss sighed, closing his book. Apparently this was a full-blown conversation now, not just a hypothetical dig. "PRECISELY WHAT WOULD YOU GAIN FROM FUCKING ME?"

"hopefully an orgasm?" Stretch offered, rolling slightly in the chair. The movement put him into a position that looked horrifically uncomfortable, but he supposed comfort was not the aim but rather seduction, as it showed in one movement exactly how flexible he was, and his sweatshirt was riding up and exposing some spine. "bet you're bored, here in lala land with nobody to kill or maim or torture. some excitement could be good for you."

Boss gave a polite once-over. He might as well reward Stretch for the effort by allowing the indulgence of a single lingering gaze. "NO."

"no, you can't give me an orgasm?" Stretch asked, sighed, really, with all the gravitasse of a soap opera star. "a hard worker like you? i would think you'd put in the work, but oh, well."

"IF YOU'RE TRYING TO GOAD ME INTO PROVING I CAN, YOU'LL HAVE TO DO BETTER THAN THAT," Boss chuckled. "I'M AFRAID I'M NOT THAT EASY."

He gained a sense of satisfaction from watching Stretch's face change. "what, seriously? that was almost flirting, bossypants."

"AND WHAT IS OFFERING TO FUCK ME IF NOT FLIRTING?" Boss asked in return, cocking his head. "SURELY SOMEONE LIKE YOU CAN HANDLE A BIT OF A CHASE? A CHALLENGE? EVEN LAZY AS YOU ARE YOU MUST HAVE SOME PRIDE, YES?"

Scowling, Stretch straightened in the chair. "jeez, i was only joking, you don't have to be such a dick about it."

"I'M HOME!"

They both looked over at the doorway, where Blue was kicking the door shut behind him. Boss was on his feet faster than Stretch, offering to take some of the grocery bags he was laden with, and Stretch frowned and sunk back into his seat. He isn't lazy, he helps just fine, but Boss and Blue together is like the fucking Energizer Bunny on Crack. How's he supposed to keep up, supposed to help, if Boss always gets there first?

Just like Boss to twist a fun suggestion into an insult. Oh, well, he'd only been offering out of boredom anyway, curiosity at most. He'd thought that maybe the edgelord was more fun in bed, when the only stick in his pelvis was Stretch's.

Blue plopped a kiss on the top of his skull as he passed and he huffed and sunk further into the chair. His phone dinged as they chattered in the kitchen, and he took the out, checking it.

bossypants: PERHAPS YOU ARE JOKING BUT I AM NOT. DO WHAT YOU WILL WITH THAT INFORMATION.

His browbones shot up in surprise, what the fuck, he can't mean what he thinks he means, can he? Boss, the eternal edgelord, the prissy, prickly, puffed-chest version of himself, was actually inviting Stretch to try to seduce him?

It could be a joke. Could be he has no intention of sleeping with him and nothing Stretch would do could work, but in that case, it almost makes him want to do it more. A real challenge, a real chase. He can get sex lots of places in his world, even good sex, he's got a list of booty calls a mile long, but there's no chase anymore. Nobody in Swap doesn't know he's down to fuck, nobody in Swap doesn't know he's the go-to for casual fun. He doesn't chase anyone here, it's either dtf? or not.

He tapped back, to confirm.

(xxx): u do realize you've invited chaos into your life

bossypants: AS YOU SAID, I GUESS I'M JUST BORED. A LITTLE EXCITEMENT COULD BE GOOD FOR ME. BRING IT ON, ASHTRAY.

Well, well, well. Stretch smirked and put his phone away. This could break up the monotony a bit in a way that annoying Boss daily hadn't been able to scratch lately.

Consider it brought, Boss. Consider it brought.

[jobean12-blog]

Caught!

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 863

Summary: You and Bucky enjoy some fishing on the ocean...

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club continuation of drunk drabbles and the prompt from @this-kitten-is-smitten below. It’s also for my loves @itsunclebucky 300 followers writing challenge! Congratulations again my darling, you deserve it all and so much more! The prompt I had was: #12: “Isn’t this illegal? - Probably.” with Bucky. Thank you all for reading! LOVE❤❤❤

Warnings: Fun in the sun, cheeky Bucky and reader, Bucky being shirtless, fluff, light smut (18+ only please ;)

“Hey doll, can you put some sunblock on my back, please?” Bucky asks as he carefully shifts toward you on the small boat, every movement he makes causing it to rock precariously on the calm ocean water.  “Sure, Buck, sit, you’re too tall for me when you stand,” you giggle, pulling him down by his metal hand. “You know, I was thinking,” you say, squirting the cool liquid onto your hands, “we could totally use your metal arm as a fishing lure! Think about it…it’s shiny and metal and you can make it vibrate!!! Maybe, we could even get some sharks to visit!!”

You’re talking so fast and excitedly that you don’t notice Bucky giving you a death glare over his shoulder until he gives the boat a good rock. Stumbling you grab his shoulders, “what the hell, Bucky, are you trying to tip us over?” “Maybe if it tips and I fall in I’ll attract Jaws and he will eat me…then you’ll be sorry!!!”

You throw your head back in laughter, trying to concentrate on spreading the sunblock evenly on Bucky’s back. “I don’t want Jaws to eat you Buck, although you are a delicious snack,” you trail off reaching your hands around his front and trailing them toward the waistband of his bathing suit shorts.

“Baby don’t start something you can’t finish, we are supposed to be fishing for our dinner,” Bucky scolds teasingly as he grabs your wrist and starts kissing up your arm. “Mmmmm Buck, fine, let me finish putting this on then.” You rub the sunblock along his back, loving the feel of his muscles under your fingertips, Bucky’s eyes close as he holds his face up to the sun.

“All done baby, let’s fish!” Bucky slowly stands, trying to be careful as he gathers the fishing polls and bait. “Why did we decide to take the smallest boat instead of one of those fancy ones with a radio and the sunshade?” Bucky asks looking over at you. He watches as your hair is blows in the ocean breeze and skin glows from the sun, a wide smile on your lips. “Yea, I know, I get it,” he says, understanding how much you love to be as close to the water as possible, the small boat much more intimate.

“Remember Buck, if we catch anything too small or that we can’t eat we have to throw it back fast, I only want to take what we are going to eat.” Handing you your fishing poll he nods, “of course, I agree.” You cast out your line with proficiency, sitting down on the small bench and relaxing. Bucky follows suit, sitting next to you and pulling you between his legs.

You sit in comfortable silence, the sound of sea birds and lapping water soothing you both into a trance. Bucky’s fishing poll starts to pull and bend first, his reaction causing you both to jump up in excitement. “I think I got something!” he shouts, carefully pulling at the line while reeling it in. “Easy now, Buck, it might be Jaws,” you joke, poking his side.

“Don’t distract me doll. If it is Jaws, we’re gonna need a bigger boat,” he says, trying to hold in his laughter. You jump in excitement, loving that he remembers lines from your favorite movies and just as you throw your arms around his neck you feel the boat begin to tip, Bucky’s shifting weight bringing it over completely.

Popping up from beneath the water you look around for Bucky, spotting his metal arm shining under the water as he swims toward you. The next thing you know he grabs your waist and pushes up and out of the water taking you with him. You fly through the air and land with a big splash behind him, squealing in happiness, “omg, Bucky, that was SO FUN!”

Bucky stares at you, his eyes darkening as he slowly swims toward you. “Buck, what is it, why are you looking at me like that?!?” You start to panic thinking he sees something behind you. It isn’t until the breeze blows that you feel the chill on your exposed skin. Looking down, you notice your bikini top has come completely untied amidst all the fun. “Oh….,” is all you can get out before Bucky is on you, pulling your body flush against him as his lips crash to yours.

He wraps your legs around his waist, the feel of his hard cock pressing into your core. You let out a gasp at the pressure, rocking your hips as his mouth travels down your jaw and neck. “Fuck, Bucky, did you plan this?!” you breath out, nails digging into his back. Without an answer his metal hand dips into your bikini bottoms, fingers lightly teasing your folds as you moan against his skin.

The sound of a motorboat nearby catches your attention and both you and Bucky look up, watching it speed by. “What if they see us, Buck, isn’t this illegal?” He pushes a finger past your folds, slowly pumping it in and out, “probably” he whispers against your lips, “but I don’t really give a shit.”

@aesthetical-bucky​ @book-dragon-13​ @eurynome827​ @flyawaybay @hiddles-rose​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @itsunclebucky​ @ikaris-whore​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewelofwinter​ @jewels2876​ @loricameback​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @marvelgirl7​ @mushyjellybeans​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @nano--raptor​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @softpeachbarnes​ @throwmyheartawayagain​ @when-the-hell-is-bucky​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​

[jossujb]

@sisiljan tagged me to talk about some of writing wips, and since my Tumblr has been rather dead I though why not.

Rules: Tell your blog the titles of all the WIPs you are currently working on right now and a little about them and then tag five other writers.

1. Leiskuva kultakala (The Flaming Goldfish) This is my main WIP, it’s a continuation for my first Jago/Litefoot mermaid!AU. have roughly 14k of it done and, but now I am frustrated and blocking hard, and I spend a lot of time just crying about it and feeling like I am shit person who should kill themselves.

I think it’s cos I kind of have a lot expectations on how I want it to be, there’s a lot of like, actual plot elements happening, and I find it really pushing on my skills. And I am not confident in writing it, cos I am afraid that a idea I love the most is gonna just be a shit fic everyone laughs at, you know?

2. Mitä sitten kuuluu? (I don’t know how to translate this, maybe How are they doing? or What happens next?) This a working tittle for drabbles I have been writing for a drabble run thread, where the idea is to write a drabble between 100-300 words from a prompt word the previous person left you with. 

I started this with like unconnected Mrs. Wibbsey/The Fourth Doctor romantic cuteness, but during the month I’ve been writing them Jago and Litefoot popped up and there’s a lot of things going. 

This is the only thing I have found relaxing and pleasing to write in like, 4 months? I think it’s because nobody can really in the thread say it’s stupid or worthless, and that’s given me the freedom to try out things I might not do otherwise.

3. Kunnes päässä räjähtää (Untill the head explodes) This is supposed to porn spin-off of the drabble series xDD During the spin-off Jago and Litefoot turned back into 18 and 23 year old, respectively, and I kinda started having hots for that.

I attempt ing at writing this as a crossdressing kink fic for a kink bingo, but the thing is tho, that Litefoot had a lot of personal mental heath issues going on in his 20′s, so like... I am not exactly sure if I can make it kinky without being problematic in some way, so I dunno. I have like 2k-ish down, but I feel like I wanna kill myself.

Anyway, those are the things I am working right now that I am blocking and hating myself and not being online that much.

[septiembrre]

"you're the worst" and "you're my favorite"! :)

I had a writing block forever and this was just supposed to be 300-400 words of drabble and then it spiraled a little out of hand… 

-

It’s been a few hours since Rio brought her to this house. The house itself is a charming, simply furnished. In another life, she would have loved to call it home. It sits on a quiet street, in a quiet neighborhood, and the night is peaceful. But, she’s restless.  

She can’t sleep, she can’t eat, so she’s cleaning.

The afternoon was a blur. Rio had met Beth at the Paper Porcupine alone, and then Mick called. Suddenly, Rio was shuffling her into his ridiculous car, sharing the most minimal details - FBI, at the bar.  The drive was tense, silent, stressed and it gave Beth a half an hour to bitterly contemplate where they were headed. To her surprise, instead of a derelict motel or empty loft, Rio had spirited them away to a modest neighborhood. There were no kids riding about on bicycles like her neighborhood, no middle-aged parents out on a run, but a lot of older folks and well-loved garden beds. Rio pulled up to a quaint green house, unlocked the front door with a key he proffered from his glove compartment. And then he settled in with her.

Beth called all the people she needed to call, fiddling with her phone on the couch. Hours passed - Rio had squirreled himself away in one of the bedrooms - and night crept in. The living room is decorated sparsely but closer to her brand of comfort. The house doesn’t really feel like Rio. At least, not in the way the loft felt like a pandora’s box of his personality all those months ago. The couch she’s resting on is so soft and she would curl up here if her mind wasn’t racing, swirling around the indications of the FBI showing up again at Rio’s business, swirling around what it could mean for her cash.

Beth takes a breath.

She starts to look around. She begins by taking inventory of the fridge - empty except for moldy cheese and almond milk that smelled okay, some condiments. She pops open the freezer and found what will be their next meal - veggie burgers, frozen bread, and peas. She thinks about turning on the stove - but the top is a little greasy and she’s not really hungry. Mostly, Beth’s annoyed at the closed door and lack of updates, but she knows she should wait for him. She makes some coffee instead.

The journey of discovery continues, and she drifts through this space that seems to sometimes be Rio’s. Beth rummages through minimally stocked cabinets, finds some mezcal, gin, and blessedly bourbon. She uses the bourbon to top off her coffee.

Beth opens what looks like a pantry but turns out to be fully-stocked with cleaning supplies - detergent, disinfectants, bleach, vinegar, gloves, masks, the works. Despite the shittiness of this day, she laughs. What a weirdo. Such a neat freak. Of course, he has a stockpile comparable to hers, a mother to four children.  

She turns her attention to the empty bedroom. She finds some basic t-shirts and sweatpants sized for Rio and changes. She’s not sure how much to trust the house, it seems clean but a musty smell clings to the rooms. So she strips off the sheets from the bed and runs the wash. She sweeps. She wipes down the stove, then moves the laundry to the dryer. Rio stays holed up in the other bedroom and every now and then she can hear him talking on the phone. Beth takes a deep breath, pins up her hair, retrieves some supplies from the pantry and continues on to the bathroom. She sprays down the surfaces.

And she’s just over it. It was her night to make dinner and Dean all but hung up on her earlier when she called to explain. She was supposed to make another batch of cash with Ruby and Annie, and after her call, they’re scared and holed up in their homes, too. And, now they’re behind schedule. And, now - the fucking FBI? Beth rubs vigorously at a spot on the shower wall. She had finally hit her stride with Rio. After one particularly ugly night where they screamed themselves hoarse at the store, they were okay.  They still don’t broach much talk about before - but they talk about work, they talk about now - and sometimes things between them feel good. But, now her mind leaps and somersaults and she thinks Jim Turner could be waiting for her around a corner of this house, freshly resurrected from the dead and ready to pull them into another deadly triangle.

She hears the bedroom door open, and Rio appears. He leans against the frame of the bathroom, he’s change into sweatpants, too.

“It’s all clean, mama.”

She’s really very tired. Her eyes prick.

“It’s grimy.” Her voice is hoarser than she expects when she speaks.

He purses his lips and then ducks out of the doorway. And fine. She returns to scrubbing any imaginable yuck out of the shower wall. A minute later, she hears him return. She turns to find him tapping on his phone, and music fills the room. She recognizes Rosalía from one of Annie’s money-making playlists - a dive into international lady musicians. He notices her noticing and quirks his brow at her. She holds out her hand and once he begrudgingly hands over the phone, she queues up Milionària.  Rio chuckles, pulls on long rubber gloves, and steps into the shower with her. He’s pulled a second brush out from the pantry stock, and he reaches over her head to help her with the tall spots. She feels a little lightheaded and she’s not sure if it’s all the cleaning chemicals or if it’s that her nose can still zero in on Rio’s cologne.  

Together, moving along to the music, they make quick work of the bathroom. Beth gets the linens out of the dryer. Rio helps her with the sheets.

Thoughts creep up reminding her of the state of her sheets after that afternoon in her bedroom, and how she tended that bed alone afterward.  They’re both tired, and they’re not who they used to be, yet this moment still has that familiar weight, that current. She savors the lines of him out of the corner of her eye and catches him peeking at her, too. She wonders idly where he’s going to sleep.

They finish with the bed. Rio grins at her. Despite everything, she braces herself for an innuendo she knows is at the tip of his tongue. “Dinner?”

It makes Beth laugh. “It’s one a.m.”

Naturally, it’s this moment when her stomach growls.

Rio works on the food. She brings out the mezcal and bourbon she found earlier and pours them drinks, grabs plates. He catches her up on details from his calls with Mick. The FBI lingered outside the bar for some time, and ultimately it’s better that they spend the night in the safe house, just to be sure. They plan for him to drop her off downtown tomorrow afternoon and have Annie get her the rest of the way home.

They make their way through Rio’s playlist, drink more alcohol. Sometime over the course of Rio toasting their bread, and putting together her veggie burger, she relaxes. After they finish their dinner, they curl up on the couch in their mirrored outfits. Next to each other, facing each other, but the couch is not that big anyway.

Beth asks him about the house.

He doesn’t reveal much as usual, but he comes here sometimes, yeah? When shit hits the fan. It makes her mind spin and she wonders. “Like what kind of shit?”

“Hm?”

“Well, your pantry is fully stocked with cleaning supplies.”

He smiles - it’s sharkish.

Beth rolls her eyes. “I know you think you’re so cool.” He scoffs, but under his faux-affrontedness, she can see his glee. He loves when she calls him out. “All Tony Montana or Don Corleone.” She blinks and can’t believe she can seriously say that to someone. “But, honestly, you have the cleaning supplies of a suburban mom of four. We’re not that different.”

He’s literally snickering into his hand and she just cannot with him. Beth insists, “It’s true!”

Rio looks down the line of his nose at her. His gaze is sly. “You’re the worst, ma.”

Now she’s laughing. “That’s okay. I can be your worst.” She blames it on the warm, giddiness of being a little buzzed when she gives him a smile, impish. “You’re my worst, too.”

His eyebrows quirk up towards his hairline. He eyes her body from top to bottom and back again and his mouth does that thing she hates and loves where it purses - too attractively - at one side and he’s as playful as ever before. What an arrogant shit, she thinks. Something in her body has too much feeling. The tell-tale heat curls in her chest, and she knows she’s wet. He bites his bottom lip. Her thighs clench and she’s annoyed.

“I’m definitely your best.”

Beth squawks. Blood rushes through her ears, rising up from her chest to blot her cheeks. She rears back, away from him.  “I- You- I’m-” She closes her gaping mouth and eyes him primly. “ Then, I’m definitely not your worst.”

He grins, conceding maybe.

Beth rocks her jaw and edges closer. Their chests don’t meet, but she can feel the warmth emanating from him.

She weighs her options.

Beth doesn’t break his gaze until she’s close enough that her lips graze his collarbone. She noses at the top of his shirt. She feels sexy and maybe it’s too much, but she takes the top button between her teeth and tugs.

Her gaze darts back up at his face. His mouth is parted and she feels that stupid, perfect thrill. Beth remembers how easy it was to enthrall him - too easy. She had examined it in the middle of her nights months ago and then buried it deep inside. She had convinced herself that it had been a trick of her imagination gone wild with the headiness of watching him in that dirty mirror, of finally tracing his skin in the sunlight streaming through her windows. But, she has done it again. Despite everything suspended between them, she still manages it.

Beth knows what’s she’s doing when she bites her lip and leans her face close to his. His gaze is glued to her mouth.

She tries again, “I’m your worst?”

He swallows, and maybe he’s a little wrecked, too. His fingertips brush the cleft of her chin. “You’re my favorite.”

Beth grins, widely, victorious. She nudges her nose against his and whispers, “Want to take a shower with me?”

[zevlors-tail]

(1/2) congrats on 300 followers!! 💜💜💜 may i ask for a matchup with a male character? i’m a 5’4 girl, dark brown wavy/almost curly hair, dark brown eyes, slim, i have a dimple on my left cheek! Libra, i love purple but pink is a close second, kinda shy at first when u meet me, sometimes comes off as a snob but only because i’m shy & i’m not sure if you’re referring to me when u waved hi 👉👈, but i open up quickly and will ramble if u let me, i’m a soft 🥺🥺 girl & the baby in my friend groups

(2/2) i’m very chill and go with the flow type of person, i’m down to do anything and i match my vibe with the people i’m with, quiet night in? i’m down! wanna impulsively do something at 3 am? i’m in! i’m a great listener and i’m super empathetic and people love venting to me or talk about anything & everything, i’m naturally affectionate & clingy, my love languages are physical touch and quality time, i’m very dense & oblivious when someone has a crush on me, words - rain and fall festivals

I match you with: Shouto Todoroki!

-Todoroki first saw you when you were hanging out with your friends, and you seemed like a really fun person to be around! He saw how much you were laughing with them and how supportive you were of them, saw how much they valued you. Todoroki is no fool; he knows you’re pretty much the glue that holds your group together, and he immediately wanted to be friends with someone like that. 

-Thus, the awkwardness of Todoroki trying to get your attention ensued. Shouto doesn’t always understand social cues, so when he first tried to say hello, it was a huge misunderstanding. You weren’t entirely sure if he was really saying hi to you specifically, so you just kind of...walked by him and ignored him. Because in your mind, he didn’t really know you and you didn’t really know him, so why would he try to talk to you? Unfortunately Shouto took this as a sign that you didn’t like him at first. which put him a foul mood for almost a week before Midoriya had to clear everything up.

-During that week, you both are pining over each other so much but you each manage to be completely oblivious to the other’s feelings somehow. All those longing side glances from Todoroki? You miss them. All those times you just happened to be in the same place as Todoroki? He thinks it’s a coincidence instead of you trying to get him to strike up a conversation. Everyone else can see that you’re clearly interested in each other, but the two of you just can’t see it for some reason. 

-But once Todoroki knows that you don’t hate him, he tries again to get your attention, only this time it’s much more direct. This boy walks right up to you and without any hesitation asks, “I really like you. Do you want to go on a date?” And of course, how could you say no? The feelings are mutual, so you’re elated that he asked you out. From then on out, Shouto is direct and to the point to avoid repeating the past.

-The two of you fall head over heals for each other extremely fast. Even though Todoroki can be somewhat reserved, he opens up to you fairly quickly because you’re just so welcoming and empathetic, and you make him feel at home. And that’s a good thing, because he really needs someone to listen to him. You’re probably one of the few people to know the absolute truth about what happened to him and his family, about the things that involved his father. And despite what people might say or think, he’s also an excellent listener, so if you ever need to vent to him, he’s got it covered. He’s very attentive and will give you his honest opinion about a situation if you ask for it.

-Shouto loves the fact that you’re clingy. He won’t openly admit it because it would really embarrass him, but he lives for your cuddles, hugs, and kisses. Every time he gets an “I love you” text or better yet, hears you say it in person? Swoon. He wonders how he could have ever lived without you. Sometimes he’ll leave his bed in the middle of night and end up in yours in the morning, and no one really says anything because he seems so much more...whole? In touch with his emotions? Open to people? There’s definitely been a really good change in him and you can take pride in knowing that you made that happen. <3

Fall Drabble: Rain/Fall Festivals

“Are you sure you want to go today? It’s supposed to rain, you know,” you reminded your boyfriend. 

Shouto only shrugged before he tugged on his jacket, then handed you yours. “It’ll probably be fine; I’m not really concerned about it. Besides, I promised I would take you to the festival, didn’t I?”

Not a cloud was in the night sky as the two of you explored your way around the festivities. Warm paper lanterns were strung up at the top of every booth, decorative leaves scattered on the countertops of most, and sweet smells drifted out from certain stands with sugary treats and baked goods. Your right hand was laced in Shouto’s left one, your shoulders bumping every so often while you walked. You couldn’t ask for a better date. Even if there was a slight chill to the air, it was hardly noticeable when you felt so warm inside next to your partner.

“Are you getting hungry? Do you want anything to eat?” Todoroki’s soft spoken voice pulled you gently from your dreamy mood as your eyes focused on your interlocked hands. 

“I wouldn’t mind something sweet. I can eat if you’re hungry, or I can wait. I don’t mind!” you cheerfully responded. 

“Do you think they have soba here?”

You laughed as he led you in the direction of one of the booths with food. “You never know!”

The hostess greeted you both with a friendly smile when you made it to the front of the line. She made idle chatter as she took your orders, and within the same minute you were receiving your food and waving goodbye as you left.

“Wow, that was hardly a wait at all. Actually...” You took a look around the festival grounds, confusion evident in your voice as you continued. “Seems like people are really clearing out. Did we stay too late? Is the festival over already?”

Todoroki pulled you into his side at the sound of disappointment from you, not ready to give up on your night yet. “No, I don’t think so? It was supposed to go until midnight. None of the booths are being packed up...”

“I wonder if-” 

You were cut off by a sudden sensation of coolness on your nose, and it took you a minute to realize little droplets of water were falling on your face, slowly at first but coming faster the longer you stood there. A glance up told you all you needed to know- the once clear sky was now overcast and dreary, clouds rolling in from the east while thunder rumbled far in the distance. You shuddered as the water slid down your nose and dripped onto your shoe. Shouto gripped your hand in his tightly and pulled you with him to the nearest group of booths were there was a bit of an overhang, and very conveniently, an empty bench. The two of you claimed it before anyone else could and watched as the heavens opened up and poured down rain, all the while sharing your food and feeding bits of sweets to each other. You leaned in closer to your boyfriend and reveled in his warm side, which he very kindly had raised the temperature of a few degrees to rival the drop in temp outside. After you were finished eating, he rested his chin on your head and nuzzled into your hair as he spoke.

“Looks like you were right.”

“About what?” 

“Didn’t you tell me it was going to rain earlier? Maybe we should have stayed home after all.” He seemed doubtful even as he said it. You could tell he didn’t want to leave, and neither did you if you were being honest.

“Yeah, but...” You smiled and shook your head no, not wanting to trade this for anything in the world. “I don’t mind. I’m glad we came out even if it rained. A little rain can’t stop me from enjoying my time with you.”

You wrapped your arms around his torso and he sighed in content. He wouldn’t trade this for the world either. As long as he was with you, nothing could stop him.

[risthebrave]

okay so i was going to send in an ask for the director’s cut thing, but there were too many fics i wanted to ask about 😭 i’ll send them in but PLEASE keep in mind you don’t have to do them all i feel bad dmfjsjf

move so pretty (you’re all i see), sleeping on our problems, works like a charm, just a flicker in the dark, and sweet like honey

ahhh omg thank you for sending these in! i’m so sorry for how long it took to get out - i may have forgotten about it shjkskss also i don’t mind talking about all of them but i’m definitely going to keep each one short. you can find them under the cut:

move so pretty (you’re all i see) ~

this fic was started initially when i was doing word prompts using curiouscat! people would send me words and i’d write a quick little drabble/snippet... they’re typically around 300-ish words but i got the word “owns,” and maybe got a bit carried away? i think that prompt ended up being 1k words - too long to post using cc so i had to take screenshots and post as separate tweet. 

the idea that came to me was something i love to read in fics: one of them walking in on the other masturbating. i didn’t intend for it to become anything more than that snippet but i what can i say? i got intrigued. my brain helpfully provided a backstory: best friends, harry maybe having feelings for louis but not wanting to ruin their friendship... 

fast-forward three days and i posted an 11k fic shjssks

this was my first attempt at writing a pwp so that was an interesting experience!!! i’m too obsessed with giving backstories and arcs to ever write just pure smut but this is the closest i’ve gotten??? 5.5k/11k being smut, that is. and for once coming up with the title wasn’t too hard because there’s one song i always think of when it comes to best friends to lovers and that’s lucky!! 

i don’t really know what else to say for this one! i remember sarah and i both wrote and posted pwps in a short span of each other so that was fun... she’s actually the one who motivated me to finish and post this fic instead of just letting the idea go. and her dog ended up in the story: chica <3 my absolute favorite <3333

sleeping on our problems ~

welp. this fic was a struggle for a long time. idk if i’ve talked about it on this blog but this fic was initially an exes to lovers fic!!! where they spent harry’s rut together right before breaking up and then louis finds out he’s pregnant and angst ensues. 

changing it to a one-night stand (even though it wasn’t only one night shjksks) ended up being a really good decision in the way that this new version of the story required a lot less angst and reflection of their past relationship, choices, actions!! that first fic was going to be a lot heavier i think shjsks but i really love how it turned out!!

barring the main tropes, the progression of the story and the outline itself changed so. much. in the process of writing... i found an earlier saved version of my outline and the story is almost completely unrecognizable haha. and actually the most recent saved version of the outline is also not 100% accurate to the final story because for the last 10k of the story, i was flying completely free shjsksk. 

also, even after i finished the fic, i went back and added two scenes the next day so it’s safe to say i changed so much of this story -- it was never supposed to be that long either hsjsksk the goal was 48-50k and i thought i was being optimistic!

somewhat in the same vein but also really different: this fic was one of the first fics i ever wrote out of order! before this, i had switched around maybe a couple times when writing a fic but mostly stuck to chronological order. but in this one i kept getting stuck with certain scenes and decided that i’d never reach my goal of finishing unless i switched to parts of the story i had the inspiration to write in the moment instead of getting stuck on one single part i had no motivation for. it really helped the process and i’ve been switching around ever since. 

another thing that really helped me actually finish this fic was the motivation and encouragement of people on twitter and i’m still so appreciative of it now :’) there’s no way i could have finished this fic without the kind words and well wishes of my mutuals!!

(also - i included an easter egg in this fic from another one of my fics... i suppose that’s sort of the type of insight that fits for these things? the ballet louis and harry saw in new york was swan lake <3)

works like a charm ~

ooo i wrote this fic for my friend’s birthday!! she loves hp aus and slytherin hl so it was just a given that i write that for her. i was on a deadline - pretty sure i made the doc on september 4th, aka nine days before i posted - and i hadn’t had my full outline done when i started which is is... let’s just say very uncommon. 

this is another example of me going off outline and changing the story as i went because initially the estimation was about 12k and the basic plot was that after they’d fuck for the first time, they’d immediately talk about the past and resolve those misunderstandings. but when i got to that point, i realized it felt too rushed for how the story was progressing so i extended it a bit and added some more *tension* and *miscommunication* until they finally got their shit together!

also i feel like some would find louis’ blatant lies when interrogated about his feelings for harry to be unrealistic but as someone who has definitely done the exact same thing (lmao - without the happy ending), i find it a definite possibility. and i mean, we all say stuff we don’t mean under pressure - whether it’s to louis’ (and my) extent or not. 

another thing i remember about this fic was having to work out with sarah - who was also posting a fic for this friend’s birthday - posting times and dates. we eventually agreed that she’d post first and i’d post the day after (neither were the actual day of the birthday because we were both running late!) this is a conversation we proceeded to have many other times since we both have made habits of birthday fics and we pretty much have the same friends. 

all of this was also happening in sync with us writing a fic together for our other friend’s birthday which was on the 8th... yes it was exactly as chaotic and stressful as you’re thinking but also fun! and i love all three fics involved!! haha. 

just a flicker in the dark ~

okay this fic is definitely my favorite thing i’ve ever written and i’ve said that before many, many times but it’s true! but it too changed so much from the initial idea to the final end product. 

in fact, the original idea was a 20k somewhat-crack fic where harry was a ghost and louis was the paranormal investigator trying to get him to stop haunting this house. it was just supposed to be a quick and fun halloween fic to work on while finishing up my first blff and finally making head way on my abandoned second blff... obviously, that changed drastically. 

it initially started with me getting the idea of louis and harry being partners and enemies. and then i was thinking... why not throw exes on top of it while we’re there??? that was completely self-indulgent since exes to lovers is my favorite trope of all time. but the idea was still that they were paranormal investigators trying to work a case on a haunted house and though the estimated wc had raised to 35k, i was still hoping that it’d be quick and easy because i had two other projects that needed a lot of my attention. 

then came the first day of october. i woke up after having the craziest dream about louis and harry and the ghost that was not really a ghost. i ended up writing about 7k that thursday and the story really just took shape from there. the first sequence i wrote was actually the scene where louis goes into the backyard and ends up in the pocket dimension where the spirit imprints on him - i think it was a 3.5k scene and it just flew out of me sjksjsk. after that i took a small break to start my outline but it was more of a messy list of ideas and details and things i wanted to include than my usual organized format. the next scene i wrote that day was the scene where louis is in the bedroom and the demon is there but harry is not but then he is (i’m so good at describing things, right?) that’s actually one of my favorite scenes i’ve ever written and the funny thing is that i barely even knew all the details of the demon plot by this point but my hands just kept typing and my brain had the tendrils of the story forming and that amazing feeling that this is something good. 

i could ramble on forever about the process of writing this fic but i’ll just say that it’s the most fun i’ve ever had writing anything ever. word-building and supernatural elements are my favorite and getting to delve into those things here was so much fun! the entire process took twenty-five days (spanning from october 1st to october 28th - with a small three day break to focus on finishing miss wedding au!!) and though i did have some small struggles and moments of writer’s block, for the most part the story just came to me. and it’s so amazing to me because i didn’t even have all the details and facets of the plot until louis did too but it ended up working out??? if anything, it showed his process of figuring things out really well because it was the process of me figuring things out!

also this was the first time i heavily featured a fic pet in a fic and i fell as much in love with venus as everyone else did :’) she has my heart, truly <3 i love this world and these characters so so much and i hope to return to it sometime in the future!

sweet like honey ~

whooo, okay, this fic... yikes. this fic was a capital s Struggle. 

so basically this fic was written for the blff and though it came out first, it was the second prompt i signed up for, prompt 63: Friends to lovers AU where Harry and Louis are best friends and flatmates in Uni and they both need money, Harry for his gym membership and Louis for cute stuff like sanrio plushies, so they decide to film homemade porn videos together. Louis is shy and sweet and maybe inexperienced and Harry kinda doms him.

i remember the exact moment i saw the blff post on tumblr about it being allowed to sign up for another prompt from that point on - i was sitting at the counter at my friend’s ranch’s kitchen eating crepes and browsing on my phone. i saw the post and immediately signed up for this prompt because it had been my second choice and though i love love loved my first prompt so much, i was disappointed at not being able to write this one... but i did!

the idea and basic outline was actually completed way back in july/august but for some reason i just couldn’t make any actual progress on it for so long??? i’m pretty sure the document was stuck at 5k for over three months shsjksks to be fair, i did keep pushing it to the side in favor of other newer fics but i was just experiencing the biggest barrier when it came to this story and characters. 

in fact, i actually reached out to the mods in late october about a potential extension - they informed me that all writers could use a two week extension if needed and i figured that would be fine. however, i didn’t end up using it! within the first few days of november, i managed to pull the wc up to 8k by the skin of my teeth (was still majorly struggling) - i was still sure i’d need an extension but then something really awful but in this case, helpful, happened... 

election week. 

basically, i’m a big stress-writer. writing is what i do when i’m upset or anxious or stressed because it truly is my happy place. i wouldn’t say writing during that week made me feel much better about everything going on but it provided a distraction. so much though that i went from 8k to 24k in the span of a few days... and i have absolutely no recollection of writing any of it. 

not only did i not need any extension, i also somehow ended up finishing early by a few days. and i really liked what i had!! or what i remembered of it anyway shjskks.

one thing i remember really focusing on in terms of these characters and dynamic was having it actually just be them starting as friends and developing feelings later. i feel like a common trope in friends to lovers fics is having one or both of them with pre-existing feelings that they feel is unrequited. obviously there’s nothing wrong with that (i’ve written it myself lol) and it’s a common trope for a reason - because it’s good - but i wanted to try something a little different. them actually filming these videos is what acted as the catalyst to them beginning to view their relationship with new eyes and open the door to the eventual feelings that developed. 

i also had so much fun writing harry’s pov in this one haha. i feel like this version of him was really bold and shameless and super easy for me to develop. 

this is also the closest i’ve ever gotten to meeting my estimation word count... ever. my estimate was 32k and it ended up at 33k!!! and yes i’m more proud of that than i should be lol

-

anyways, i pretty much just rambled but if anyone sees this and gets some good insight out of it, then yay! feel free to send more director’s cut inquiries!! i love doing them (even if it takes me weeks - sorry again!)

[pollylynn]

Just About, Chapters 1–5 (Loosely linked Caskett Rabbles, Set in Season 1)

A/N: I started this “series” (if one can call it that) a while ago—very short things set in Season 1. It had been sitting at four chapters for a while. I wrote the fifth tonight. I’m just going to post them all here, with separators, because they’re so short. 

Title: Just About, Chapter 1: Everything and Nothing WC: 300

 A/N: I don’t know. I need a palate cleanser after finishing Season 8, and I was “inspired” by an Elvis Costello song. So 300 words here, and plans for a few more of these, most likely all set in season 1.

She smells like heaven. Well. Not really. She doesn't even wear perfume. She smells like drugstore shampoo and coffee. But it's heaven to him. Legitimately the stuff of dreams. Or it would be, if he slept. But he can't sleep, because she smells like heaven.  

Because her cheek blushed when he kissed it, and the warmth still lingers on his lips. The silk-smooth feel of her skin stays with him, and he absolutely cannot sleep.    

It's ridiculous, really. He asked, near enough.

Why? So I can be another one of your conquests?

Or I could be one of yours.

He put it out there, and she turned him down. Shot him down, if he's honest with himself, and that's that as far as the possibility of any after-hours "research" between the two of them goes. That's that.

But she smells like heaven, and he can't decide if she's adorable or dead sexy or both at once. He can't decide if it's her legs he's into or her eyes or the fact that she's a complete bad ass. Or maybe it's how smart she is. Book and street and everything in between, and then there’s the mouth on her. She’s funny. Cutting, but not quite mean. Not quite, and she’s not the least bit impressed by him.

Not the least bit, and can’t be that, can it?

It might be that, because he hasn’t worked like this for anything in ages. For anyone. He hasn’t had to. Hasn’t wanted to, and what the hell is it about her?  

Maybe it's everything. She catches him, flat-footed and tongue-tied all the time, and maybe it’s every damned thing about her.  

Maybe whatever it is, he needs to get over it.

He asked. She shot him down. And that's that.

********************************************

Title: Just About, Chapter 2—Seemingly WC: 400

A/N: More palate cleansing.

He was supposed to be bored by now. Long before now. She'd have bet on it. She has bet on it, in a manner of speaking. She's been confident. She's brushed off innuendo and anted up to Lanie and Espo and Montgomery. Anted up to everyone brave or dumb enough to give her so much as a sidelong glance about it. About him and their "arrangement."

A week, tops . . .

A couple . . .

A few . . .

But they've barreled past a couple, and if she's honest, a few is already disappearing in the rear-view mirror, and he doesn't seem bored.

He seems a lot of things: Callous, immature, smug, vain, obtuse, reckless, and oh-so-very annoying. He seems hell bent on really playing out whatever this is. Ego, maybe?

But that doesn't fit. Not exactly.

She thinks back to the street. To what she'd meant to be her parting shot and the moment right before.

Or I could be one of yours . . .

She thinks of what he seemed then. Boyish, delighted, smitten. Shy, or something very near to it.

She thinks of all the other things he's seemed since. The not-so-terrible things she isn't always big enough to admit: Curious, astute, invested, feeling.

It's the last one that gets her. It interests her, or it would if she'd let it.

Because for all his antics, she's seen him somber, too. Gut-punched when he does the math on how many I'm so sorry for your loss calls she must've made over the years. Coldly furious at a foul-mouthed prep school punk, who's used to getting away with everything, and that doesn't seem new at all. It doesn't seem recent, and she wonders about it.

She'd wonder if she'd let herself, but she won't. She bites her tongue to keep from asking and tries remember what she knows about Richard Castle, best-selling novelist. What's known about him out in the wide world, because that's where he exists. On billboards and book jackets and slick studio sets. At rooftop book parties and on the mayor's speed dial.

That's where he exists, and she'd do well to remember that, whatever he seems, now and again. Whatever it is he's determined to play out.

It's ego, she decides, and it doesn't pay to wonder. He'll be bored soon enough.

A month, tops . . .

A couple . . .

A few . . .

(But he doesn't seem bored.)

*********************************************

Title:  Just About, Chapter 3—Just a Little WC: 500 A/N: A continuation of this Drabble series, because, for the moment, they keep coming. 

Sometimes he thinks she likes him just a little.

Most of the time he's absolutely sure she doesn’t. She yells a lot, and she’s prone to violence. Not the fun kind, either. She pokes. Hard. And she has this thing about twisting his ear like he's some Dickensian street urchin. At any given moment, he’s pretty sure she doesn’t like him one bit.

But every once in a while, he catches her staring straight ahead with the corners of her mouth turned down hard. Every once in a while, he spies a wicked glint in her eye, and he's pretty sure she trying not to smile. He racks his brain every time. He drives himself up the wall, trying to remember what he just said or did. What he didn’t do that she thought he’d been thinking about doing . . .  

It’s stupid. Insane, really, because what does it matter whether she likes him or not? He’s in. One strategic phone call and absolutely everything he’d wanted has fallen into place. Absolutely everything.

He’s writing like a fiend. He’s up nights willing his fingers to keep up with his brain. He’s scrawling down details every waking moment on every scrap of paper that comes to hand. His mind hums along, four levels deep, while they work. While they bicker and joke and turn each other inside out to get the job done. His and hers.

It’s everything he’d wanted all those miserable months with his marriage unraveling and the words gone. Every last thing, so what does it matter? Smile or no smile. Whether she likes him a little or a lot or not a bit. What does it matter?

There’s the obvious answer. The obvious conclusion that everyone's jumped to. His mother. The whole damned precinct. Alexis. That bothers him more than he'd like.  

You always say you have to love your characters . . .

The glint of cynicism bothers him. The flash of fresh scars from all the upheaval with Gina. The divorce. Before and after. Everything up until these last few weeks, and it bothers him that even his kid thinks it's obvious that Kate Beckett is the shiny new thing. That "research" is code for business as usual.

It bothers him, because it's ridiculous. And because it's kind of a fair cop. It has been, historically, but he’s done with that. Mixing business with pleasure. A lousy metaphor for him and Gina, anyway, which is why he's done with anything that even looks like a relationship.

You always say you have to love your characters . . .

It's ridiculous. He doesn’t have to. And he definitely doesn’t . . .

And so what if he did? So what if he mentally goes to tape and draws up freaking battle plans to see if he can leave her fighting off a smile?

So what if he loves Nikki Heat? Kate Beckett is  definitely not Nikki Heat, and she doesn't even like him.

Except every once in a while, it seems like she does. Just a little.

A/N: 500 words this time. The first and second were 300 and 400, respectively. I'm not going to lock into that pattern, I don't think, but each came out close, and so I decided to challenge myself to shape them into an even hundred.

******************************************

Title: Just About, Chapter 4—Kind of WC: 600

A/N: Another 600 Words

He’s kind of a dork.

She’s trying to process that. Still trying to process it. She’s been sitting with it a while, and a lot has happened. Nothing at all and a lot.

She’d told him. About her mom. About her dad. About her, more or less. Maybe a little less, but more than most people know. Quite a bit more than anyone but Lanie, maybe. More altogether than Ryan or Espo or even the Captain, though they know her in bits and pieces. They know her from guarded revelations over the occasional beer. From gossip that never quite gets stale. Never quite.

But she’d told him. Castle, who is a thorn in her side. Who is the nosiest, interfering-est, most emotionally tone deaf person she’s ever met when he’s caught up in one of his parlor trick cold readings. Castle, who loves to run roughshod over everyone and everything, especially her.

Castle, who’s kind of a dork.

She’d told him.

She can’t figure it out. He’d been happy enough with his own story.

I noticed your watch. It’s your dad’s, right?

He’d been more than happy enough, and she’d like to think it was about knocking him down a peg. She’d like to think telling him was about wiping some self-satisfied look off his face, but there wasn’t any. Not by then. Not after White Plains and an eerily calm conversation about fathers and daughters and getting away with murder, and even that’s not it. Sudden, absolute confidence that he could’ve kept the secret. That he would have if she’d asked him to.

And even that’s not why she’d told him. Not entirely.

Because she’d started telling him well before that. She’d started the minute she let her feet carry her to his doorstep for some unfathomable reason. She’d started telling him before he even opened the door. She’d started telling him as she lingered in his hallway, stalling long enough that she was suffocating in her winter coat. Feeling wordlessly stupid for being there and finally screwing up the courage to knock.

She’d started telling him the minute the door opened on that bizarre scene. Violent green mud masks and his hair standing straight up. She’d gone there for words—for an ending to Melanie Cavanaugh’s story—and wound up in the moment that hasn’t quite ended yet, even though she’s been home a while. She’d wound up pouring her heart out and leaving him there at her desk like the fixture he’s become.

It isn’t because of who he is, though she sees now that’s what had brought her there. She sees now that she’d gone to see her favorite author. The man whose words have given her the only kind of closure she’s known for a decade, but that’s not who she’d found when the door swung open.

That’s not who’d perched tentatively on the desk next to her, self-consciously trying to smooth down his hair. Really, really wanting to switch off the storyboard with its skeletal outline. Really, really wanting to explain that he’s not usually home of an evening playing laser tag with his kid. Really, really wanting to point out that his mother lives with him, he doesn’t live with her. Really, really wanting to slip back into the skin of who he pretends to be a lot of the time, but not letting himself.

She’d knocked on the door of her favorite author and found him instead. She’d told him her life story. The bits it’s been boiled down to. She’d told him. Because he’s kind of a dork.

A/N: This one is set just after A Chill Goes Through Her Veins (1 x 05). The others are more loosely woven throughout S1, but this episode has always felt like an important turning point to me. 

*********************************************************

Title: Just About, Chapter 5—Turns Out WC: 700

A/N: Finally, the new stuff. 

It's good to have her here again. 

Again

He's a little too giddy about that particular pair of syllables. Giddy enough that he's definitely compensating—scrambling on the inside, overdoing it on the outside. He’s pitched his voice somewhere in the vicinity of just-north-of-Barry-White pitch, and he’s flicking a heavy-lidded gaze across the desk at her as he lets the words roll around in his mouth. 

Bare 

Glistening

Breasts

Oh, he’s definitely compensating. Then and now–on the page and in real time—but he doesn’t really see many alternatives. 

She's here. Again. And that's good, even if she doesn't look one bit like she agrees. Even if the look she's shooting back at him makes his bedroom voice crack—even if he did sort of trick her into it this time—it’s still definitely good, because there's a this time, and that implies that there was a last time, and there was no trickery there. 

And there's the giddy again, when he thinks about her backlit in the hallway, head cocked and brow furrowed at the strange picture they must have made: He and Alexis and his mother, in for the night and up to their typical shenanigans, and then, suddenly, her at the door. And as stunned as he was to see her—as back-of-the-mind perplexed as he was, because how does she even know where he lives?—he still remembers thinking, Finally. 

Finally. That was unquestionably the word looming largest in his mind when Kate Beckett showed up on his doorstep. 

It’s troubling. It’s as troubling as the giddy feeling that comes with Again, because it's not as though he'd been waiting for her. He hadn’t been, hasn’t been, isn’t waiting for anyone. He’s so very not waiting for anyone that he’d wrecked the bedroom with his ex-wife just that morning. 

And that helpful point of information his brain offers up, just as she is on the absolute verge of leaving, is the opposite of helpful. That point of information is something that he discovers in the moment he actually hates the hell out of, and he doesn’t have time to sift through the why. He’s taken the Bare. Glistening. Breasts. gag to the absolute edge of too far and she’s leaving. 

And he doesn’t want her to leave. 

And he doesn’t want Meredith to come back. 

And those two facts are unquestionably intertwined in ways that he suspects are quite complicated. 

Because it’s not merely that he does not want Meredith back in New York—although he certainly  does not want Meredith back in New York. It’s not that his crush on, attraction to, infatuation with Kate Beckett was any kind of proof against taking the path of least resistance when Meredith dropped her bags, her fur, and her dress in short order. 

But having Kate Beckett here in his home—again—makes it blindingly clear that she is the kind of woman he wants in his home. And Meredith is most definitely not. He wants her intelligence and her empathy and her work ethic. He wants her curious mind and the challenge she presents to him in every possible way. He wants a good woman in his own life, and as if these sudden revelations weren’t complicated enough, in his daughter’s life, too. 

It’s another shocking turn of events—and another thing it turns out he was somehow expecting. She brings up Alexis—Kate does—and he’s simultaneously furious and abashed, because Alexis doesn’t, by and large, miss her mother. And no one thinks it would be a good idea to have her back in town. Absolutely no one thinks that, and he’s ashamed.  

So he hits out. He goes on the defensive. And she hits out in kind. She goes for the jugular. They yell back and forth about deep-fried Twinkie sex, about how shallow he is. She looks gratified that he’s living down to her expectations at last, and he aims to please. 

He wishes he could stop himself. He wishes he could stop the conversation cold and just tell her how glad he is. He’s simply glad that she is here. Again. A/N: Here, too, for some reason the episode itself—Always Buy Retail (1 x 06)—got chatty

[yokaishinari]

Lukadrien June 22+23

Group date + Coming out

(wow, this was supposed to be a little drabble with maybe 300 words total. Oops?)

@miraculouschallenges

#NoBetaWeDieLikeMen

It was Alya’s idea to go out as a group. There was a freshly opened market place sort of with bazar stands with international goods. They really wanted to check that out.

So, it was Alya with Nino, then Marinette. If those three were going, so they invited Adrien along. On their way over they met with half of their class along with Juleka’s brother, Luka.

They were having fun, checking out each stand with handmade stuff, regional food, homemade cosmetics. Everything smelled amazing, looked cute and crafted.

After two hours of wandering around and goofing, guys offered to look for something to eat, so the group could rest.

Adrien, Nino, Luka and Nathaniel stopped by a stand with what looked like a decent type of safe food which was probably full with unhealthy calories, but they weren’t counting their health habits now.

Nino already ordered a few for him and “his girls”, their artist friend chose anything that Nino got, because he didn’t want to stay too long. That left with Adrien, who couldn’t decide, and Luka who politely waited with him.

The blonde looked through the exposed food, meats deep-fried in breadcrumbs, with sauces that looked so delicious, or fish, or other weird things that looked so tempting. He just couldn’t choose.

Lady behind the counter seemed tired like all of them, but she tried to politely ask. “Are ya getting something, honey? Or are you just curious?”

Adrien snickered to himself.

“Well, I guess you could say I am buy-curious”

What he didn’t expect, was to hear the same line spoken by the boy next to him, at the same time he did. They looked at each other with wide eyes.

Adrien smiled, not noticing Luka’s slight blush appearing on his cheeks.

“Jinx!” - the blonde exclaimed happily. Then, oblivious to everything, he turned to the lady. “I would like those... uh... meatballs? Are those meatballs? Yeah? Okay, please. Luka you’re getting something for your sister?”

The boy, who was strangely staring at him for a second, stammered suddenly.

“What? Uh, yeah I guess, I’ll take the same, please.”

They both payed and started walking back to where their group was supposed to stay. Luka didn’t say anything, but Adrien tried not to feel the sudden awkward silence that fell upon them. He didn’t even know why.

He cleared his throat.

“So uh, Legend of Korra, huh? Great show. Have you seen all the seasons?”

Luka perked his head up. He still had this strange look in his eyes whenever their eyes met.

“Yeah, me and Jules used to have Korra evenings. We watched everything.” His black nails drummed against his chest, as he held the string of his hoodie. Was he nervous?

Adrien wondered, why sometimes his friends would get like this around him. First Marinette, now Luka?

“Sounds nice.” - he nodded, biting into his food.

They saw their little group sitting around a fountain. But before they could reach them Luka suddenly stopped.

“Adrien? That line you said. Is it true?”

The younger boy frowned with confusion.

“What line? What is true?”

Luka blinked a few times. So, he didn’t know then.

He bit his lip, thinking if he should clarify what he meant. Or let it totally go. But looking at Adrien, after he said those words, it spiked something within the guitarist. A feeling of something growing inside him. Appearing interest. Maybe... maybe it could be true.

“Do you remember how Korra’s and Asami’s relationship developed?”

“Y-yeah, they kinda got together, as in romantically. Lots of tv stations were furious. Why?”

“Well... that line was kinda... a first hint of Korra’s orientation. She said she was buy-curious. And when you play with that wording, you get that she basically came out as bi. As in bisexual.”

Luka had strange look in his eyes as he said that and Adrien wondered now... was it true? Was it true to him?

Suddenly Luka’s blue eyes shined. Suddenly the way he cocked his head seemed so attractive. Suddenly Adrien forgot how to speak, held in place with that bombing realization.

“Adrien.” - Luka placed his hand on Adrien’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. Adrien just stared. “Adrien, breathe.”. He didn’t respond.

“Adrien, buddy! What’s wrong!” - came another voice. It was Nino, now he and the girls caught up to them, sensing something was up.

Only when tears spilled out from his eyes and tickled his cheeks, Adrien blinked. A blurry image of the older boy before him made him aware of what happened. He took a shaky inhale, not dropping the eye contact with Luka. He didn’t want to.

“I’m bi.” - he finally blurted. Someone gasped somewhere on his right, but that sound was barely audible.

Luka smiled slightly. His hand raised from Adrien’s shoulder to gently wipe the tear spilling from the green grass of the boy’s eye.

“I’m bi.” - The blonde repeated, listening to how it sounded to himself.

“It seems so. - Luka offered softly. - And it’s okay, you know.”

Reassurance. Yeah, that was what he needed.

“I’m bi” - Adrien spoke again, not really controlling his racing thoughts. What did it mean? Who was he now? Was he like this all the time?

“Yeah, welcome to the club, Sunshine. Now, I’m going because this amount of drama, as beautiful as it is, is just not good for me. Happy pride, then?” - it was Alya, offering her friendly support, then, with Nino speaking something about being his best bro no matter what, left along with her, dragging Marinette with them.

“How are you feeling?” - Luka asked after a while, holding a steady hand on Adrien’s shoulder again, sensing that was what the boy needed. The blonde swallowed and finally shrugged, shook his head, rolled his neck. anything to shake off the immobility he felt a moment before.

“I’m... I’m fine, thanks.”

“Come on. I bet there’s somewhere your cavalry waiting for you.”

Saying that, Luka draped an arm around Adrien’s back, gently guiding him through the market place.

His hand was warm against Adrien’s skin. And the boy was so close to him; a steady, comforting presence next to him. With his newly discovered truth about himself, Adrien felt his cheeks heating up a little, but... it all, as confusing at first was... It felt right.

“Luka?”

“Hm?”

“Are you bi?”

There were a few heartbeats of silence, before the guitarist answered, with a hint of humour in his voice.

“Yeah, I am. If you need a guide, I am your guy.”

Adrien chuckled at that. Something... interesting moved inside his head at the words “I am your guy”, but he let it slide a little deeper for now. So, he nudged Luka in the side.

“I’ll take your word for it.”