#Enjoy the small excerpt in the meantime

[sugoi-and-spice]

Like my work? Please consider commissioning me or contributing to my Ko-Fi!

Chapter Twenty-Three - I’m Not Okay (I Promise)

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Virginity Kink, Groping, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Animal Death, Slow Burn, Misogyny

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[excerpt]

Even for a Friday afternoon the arcade was way more crowded than she had expected. The group had originally planned on grabbing a bite at the attached restaurant before gaming, but their new addition had created a bit of a logistical problem.

“I’m so sorry,” the Hostess bowed repeatedly and apologetically, “All of our larger party tables are booked for at least another hour. The most we could fit is a chair on the end of a four person booth.”

“Awww, really? I mean how small are the booths? We’re all friends, we can squeeze!” Nejire insisted, pulling Amajiki into a tight hug at the waist to prove her point, much to the quickly reddening boy’s chagrin.

“That’s against our fire code,” she bowed again, “I’m really so sorry.”

Yuyu, ever the pragmatic one, turned to suggest, “I guess we’re gonna have to split up?”

Nejire pouted, “That’s not really festive.”

Mirio, more than happy to put on a show to either sacrifice one of his friends to table with Shigaraki, or make show of how much he didn’t belong there at the moment, put a hand on Nejire’s shoulder, “Hey, we gotta do what we gotta do, right?”

Shigaraki was feeling itchier and pricklier by the second. He didn’t particularly enjoy being the center of gawking attention even under the best of circumstances. And this moment — standing awkwardly to the side as a group of kids already way cooler than he could ever hope to be were actively discussing the logistics as to why he was a complete inconvenience to all of them — was far from the best of circumstances.

He leaned into his one spider’s thread of a tie to it all, whispering nervously, “I’ll just go, this is stupid…”

Mirio, somehow hearing him, as if he’d been waiting for those words frowned “sympathetically” at him, “Awww? Are you sure?”

“Uh, y-yeah…” Shigaraki said, even he was a bit taken aback by how quick Mr. ‘Let’s Make Everyone Smile At All Times” was willing to kick him to the curb, “I-I’m making this weird anyway, right?”

Nobody really wanted to answer. That’s what the group of friends did think, after all.

But then she put a hand, a perfectly manicured lifeline, on his shoulder.

“Don’t be silly,” she pointed out, “Look, there’s a two seater right by that booth. Shigaraki and I will take that and then we won’t have to squeeze anywhere.”

The group all looked about each other, shrugging and mumbling positively. That really did seem like the best option. The group that needed to be altogether — the friends since elementary school — were indeed, altogether, and Shigaraki was neither ostracized nor isolated with people he didn’t know. It was a perfectly fine solution for all.

All except Mirio.

“H-Hey, those big party tables aren’t reserved for the night or anything right?” Mirio asked the hostess, and upon a confirming nod, he offered back to the group, “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not starving or anything — why don’t we just put our name down and play some games in the meantime? Then nobody has to squeeze or split, you know?” 

Another chorus of shrugs and “Yeah, that’s work”’s — and Mirio had his, admittedly, small victory over the situation. 

Though it’s not like it lasted long.

Continue on AO3

[trensu]

an excerpt of the newest chapter of the halfway house fic based on this past post. Enjoy :)

“Steve, come get your furry little menace! He’s chewing up my laces again,” Robin grumbled.

“Maybe if your laces are ruined, you’ll finally buy a new pair of shoes,” Steve snarked. Steve walked to the living room to find Robin attempting to tie her old Converse only to snatch back her hands every time the kitten took a swipe at the laces in question. “He’s just a baby. He wants to play.”

“He can get his own laces to play with, then. And there’s nothing wrong with my shoes. I’m not going to go buy new shoes when these are perfectly functional. And my favorite color.”

Steve scooped the kitten up even as he kept reaching for the laces and cuddled him to his chest. Steve rubbed gently behind the kitten’s ears until the kitten relaxed into tiny purrs.

“What do you think, Dustin? Should Robin get new shoes? Raise your paw if you agree with me,” Steve said. He lifted the kitten’s right paw and waved it a bit, making the kitten squirm. “See, he agrees with me.”

Robin snorted and rolled her eyes at his teasing smile. “I still can’t believe you named him Dustin.”

The kitten chose that moment to start climbing up Steve’s shirt to reach his shoulder. His tiny claws pricked at Steve’s skin through the thin fabric but they were so small, they barely hurt at all. Steve laughed as the kitten settled on his shoulder and began to mew at the top of his lungs.

“It’s not my fault he looks like a Dustin,” Steve insisted. When he brought the kitten home two days ago, Robin tried to name him something else but Steve put his foot down about it. He found the kitten, and he thought the kitten was a Dustin, so no other name was allowed. 

Dustin let out another mew so loud he nearly toppled over. Steve pulled him off his shoulder with an amused huff. Dustin wriggled incessantly in his hands. Steve lost his grip on him but thankfully he had gotten him close enough to the ground by then that the fall was negligible to a cat.

“Okay, okay, we’ll play for a little while, you needy baby.”

He and Robin were waiting for payday to run to the pet store for more supplies. They were lucky that their neighbor across the hall had an old litter box that her cat had outgrown, and a couple of spare food bowls. She had even given them a few cans of wet food, cooing over the kitten all the while. Dustin, apparently, was a charming little guy. He obviously took after Steve. Robin had punched him on the arm when he said as much.

In the meantime, they were using old bits of string and a little orange ball Robin had stolen back when they worked at a mini-golf place. The kitten seemed to enjoy them well enough but Steve planned on getting him fancier playthings and some catnip. He rolled the ball across the floor and the kitten chased after it. He pounced on it, wobbly, which sent the ball rolling again for another chase. Steve laughed. Robin giggled along with him.

“He’s lucky he’s adorable. Otherwise we’d be having problems, him and I,” Robin said with a grin. Her mischievous demeanor softened slightly. “I’m glad you found him, you big old softie. Now you can stop moping so much.”

Steve ducked away when she reached to ruffle his hair. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said, lightheartedly. “Maybe if I do a good job with him, someone will finally let me have a kid.” 

The kitten had apparently gotten bored of the ball and was attempting to climb up the back of the couch. Steve quickly grabbed him so he would damage the upholstery. He booped the kitten’s nose.

“What do you think, baby? Will I be a good dad? Be honest.”

Dustin grabbed his finger and gnawed at it while making the most precious sounds. A purring mew.  Steve’s heart melted; though from what he had read, he really shouldn’t let Dustin get accustomed to using his hands as playthings.

Steve resigned himself to losing half his paycheck to cat toys.

Continue on Ao3

ps: i do not do reader tag lists or whatever those things are called. i tag all my writing with 'trensu tells stories' so please just follow that tag if you wanna keep up with my stuff, thank you

[ruinedgautier]

sorryyy if this is odd but i loveeee the dynamic between lita and sylvain.... i know obviously probably litavain is the most fleshed out, but are there any friendships or other dynamics that lita has? :)

Not weird at all! I'm just so excited about people liking my oc waow 🩷💗💖💞💖💕💞💕💗

Litavain is for sure the most fleshed out! But I also did make Ingrid and Lita friends before the whole fake dating thing happens.

ITS A LOT SO IM GONNA PUT THE FULL ANSWER + MORE CHARACTERS UTC LMAO:

Ingrid really cares for Lita, and she dislikes how much Sylvain is messing with her. The Faerghus Four, including Dedue, are aware that both parties are consenting to the plan— it's just that Sylvain is lying about the reason for it. Ingrid, for the most part, lets it slide because Lita and Sylvain seem to be equal parts invested in the relationship. It isn't until Ingrid begins checking what they think of one another that she realizes how one-sided it actually feels. Here's an excerpt about that:

Ingrid's also noticed how Lita looks when she's describing Sylvain. She likes him, maybe a little more than she lets on. She just can't really convey whatever feelings she has, so whenever Ingrid asks about Sylvain, Lita gives short, generic answers.

“He’s nice to me,” she would say. “And he’s not that bad looking either!”

It's always variants of the two. However, more things slipped past her short responses the longer these past few weeks have gone on.

“He’s nice to me!” turned into, “I lost my mother’s ring in the library the other day, and he spent the next day trying to track it down for me. Turns out, some guy found it and gifted it to his girlfriend. He had to fight the boyfriend for it, but he said a black eye would be worth it if it kept me happy. He’s so… He’s really sweet, Ingrid.”

Then, “He’s not that bad looking either!” turned into, “I think Sylvain’s gotten more tan these past couple weeks. And you can see more of his freckles, too! I tell him that I think they're cute, but he never believes me.”

Ingrid frowns. She doesn’t seem to remember such comments coming from Sylvain. Whenever she asked him about Lita, he’d brush her off and say things like:

“Oh, you know! She’s great.” Or, “We have a study date today in her room. Do you think I’ll score big?”

It frustrates Ingrid to no end. Is he really all that selfish? He’s hurting Lita while he’s just trying to mess around. Sure, Ingrid hasn’t caught Sylvain running off with other girls in the meantime, but that doesn’t ease her mind at all. Maybe he’s just gotten better at hiding from her watchful eye.

——

Ingrid, the poor girl, feels stuck between a rock and a hard place. She doesn't want to hurt her friend by making Sylvain tell her how much he's lying to her, but at the same time, she's tired of needing to clean up Sylvain's messes and thinks that Lita would set him straight after he confesses.

Or something like that, I haven't exactly finished hammering out the details yet 🤧 just know that Ingrid and Lita are friends LMAO

As for other dynamics, she has a small (unnamed) friend group. They're not really mentioned often, but they like teasing Lita about dating Sylvain. They don't know that Lita and Sylvain are pretending to date.

Lita also enjoys hanging out with the Golden Deer a lot. She tags along with Lysithea to learn makeup tips from Hilda– they get ready for the ball together ♡ She goes painting and sketching with Ignatz and values his crit when creating art.

Adding on more to Hilda and Lita's friendship, Hilda passively mentions that Lita should join their class since she seems to get along with everyone there already. Lita always declines, saying that she likes the BL class, but she'll always hang out with her friends in GD. They kiss a little bit in my brain teehee ✨️

Ummmm I FEEL like that's all of them? I want to build more on her relationships in BL, but I have yet to sit down and figure them all out 🤧🤧

[residentdormouse]

Springing into a Word Search

Alright, I have been sitting on this so long, that I got tagged in another set of words in the meantime. Bad Mouse. Must get my writing routine back....

Anyway, thank you @mrsmungus for keeping my tiny writer gears grinding. Although, this is probably my worst showing yet. Not a Spring girl, I'm afraid. Probably not great seeing as my blorbos is all about painting. It's pretty, I suppose....

My Words: Growth, Flower, Fresh, Dawn, Easter, Break, Clean, Rainbow, Blossom/Bloom/Bud, Hayfever (or sneeze, or allergies)

I will as well leave this as an OPEN TAG because I don't know how many would want to join our constant word search absurdity. If you even remotely think, 'hey that might be fun', please do not hesitate to join, and tag me so I don't miss it!

Your Words: Swim, Beach, Sand, Waves, Float, Heat, Vacation, Rest, Relax, Calm

As always, excerpts below the cut.

Growth: Dammit - you got me. Not one mention. Touché.

Flower: (From Diving)

The larger space was a welcome change from the harsh area they had just been in, and Glen welcomed the sight coming from the large picture window on the side wall. Well maintained pebble walkways led around a quaint garden area. A few trees, shrubs, a couple black iron benches, and tinges of pinks, yellows, and oranges popped out from the various flowers planted around the walkways. Crystal clear water fell in a continuous flow from the center fountain, with a few brightly colored fish in the small pond below. He found himself gravitating closer to the scene, as the others could be heard pacing about or taking seats in the numerous open couches scattered around the space.

Fresh: (We got fresh blood, fresh starts, fresh milk, and a fresh hell. Haven't done a Harold section in a while, so Fresh start it is.)

“Okay, so I'm just gonna jump in cause I don't have much finesse with all this and I don't use my words as well as Glen. And you don’t have to say anything. I’ll sit here and babble like an idiot; you can jump in if you want.” Deep breath. “We're about to get to Boulder. You can choose who you want to be now. And correct me if I’m wrong, but right now, you don't seem like somebody who's very happy. So you can keep on carrying pain from a life you don't have anymore, and I’ll stop bothering. But if we're choosing, maybe you can choose to leave that pain here. Right here. When we hit Boulder, you have your fresh start. You can be the guy who holds up his end of deals, and writes stories, and has fun. Or whoever else you want to be." Gaze still locked on the fire, she tapped his foot with hers, trying to pull his attention. "It's your call, but you have that choice..."

Dawn: (Only one Dawn, and its not great. Can you tell I'm not a morning person?)

The night remained clear from threats and capped off the rain day break as a needed detour. Susan and Dayna were able to enjoy the small comfort of sleeping in an actual bed, safe within their room walls. Harold started in on one of the blank books he picked up, filling the journal pages by candlelight. Hayden and Glen found comfort with each other, while he shared stories into the night. And Fran found the walls quiet enough to chance a visit next door with Stu. By the end of dawn the next morning, everything was packed and ready to move on. One step closer to Boulder.

Easter: Once again, you got me. Guess who's least favorite season is Spring...

Break: (Hey! I finally got one from Close to the Vale!)

Humor remained in his expression, most likely resulting from her momentary stupor, but she held his gaze for as long as she could, only breaking away to glance downward when the sliver of self consciousness took hold. Even still, her smile remained. Despite her downcast focus, she was still able to catch the way his eyebrows raised in amusement before he turned back towards the counter. Holding out a packet in the air, he proceeded to move along the worn down surface until he hit an opening.

Clean: (Not the segment you thought you would get for this word, is it?)

"C'mon, everybody needs a little break here and there!" But that’s what Teddy failed to realize; this wasn't a break. Not to him. What Teddy was proposing was entering a social battle that required constant vigilance. Anticipate the moves, blend into the background when possible, and strike out only with a sure bet. Practiced movements and rehearsed repertoire. Break? Exhausting is what it was, and Harold certainly didn't have the energy to put up a front for that long. Not after a full day of clean up. The thought of the daily activities only ushered in a wave of fresh memories. Sensory recall he wished he could will away. Smells that would threaten to up heave anything he managed to put down. Decomposition. It lingered in his nostrils and he could almost taste it. That’s all that was there for him. Death. Disgust… All things he would put up with to position himself where he needed to. A place to get the most leverage when the time came.

Rainbow: (Only two of these, and I'm pretty certain I used the other one on our last Tumblr takeover. Guess we're having a Harold day now...)

"He knows, by the way. So there's that. Knew before I got there. Maybe I shouldn't have confirmed it, but what the fuck, y'know? I'm not gonna blatantly lie to his face..." Knowing her well enough to predict that she would look to follow after his couple puffs, Glen held the pen out to her voluntarily. There was no hesitation to take it. "That said, don't think she was off base with the concern. Something's not right with him." "What makes you say that?" No humor to it, no jokes, just inquiry. "He wants to quote, show the world who it's playing against, unquote, or something like that. However he said it, though, it didn't sound like something one does with rainbows and butterflies." "No, it doesn't." "So, I repeat. When did this all get so fucked…"

Blossom/Bloom/Bud: (Don't have any blossoms or blooms, but we got weed by god. Knew I'd find a 'bud'.)

Despite being quick, or at least thinking he was, it wasn’t fast enough. As he rounded the corner, he spotted Benny laying down on the floor. A few more steps and he could confirm there was no longer a rise and fall to his chest. A few steps further and the gap between them closed. Once he set down his bag, Glen closed the man’s eyes. The small container of buds was then placed in his hands, much like one would place the more common type of flower. Sure, it did nothing for him at this point, and there was nobody left here to know what was done, but it made him feel better. Humanity could die out, but it didn't mean he had to lose himself or his ways along with it. Not until that time came for him as well. As he stepped back out into the daylight, he took a deep breath of the fresh air, savoring the aroma that lacked the lingering stench of death.

Hayfever/Sneeze/Allergies: Holy fuck dude, you got me again. I think this is the worst I've ever done at one of these...

[phandompenny]

Touch from the Ayesha!verse please? You know how much I love her

Of course, my dearest socks! I'm fairly certain I was discussing this story with you: it takes place in our co owned AU where Ayesha is a stuffed animal that Erik adores. I hope to post this one soon, but enjoy this excerpt in the meantime!

“Your playing reminded me of my father,” Christine says. “He always played with such passion.” Her voice breaks at the end, so she gives in and lets herself cry. She hears Erik awkwardly shift from one foot to the next and vainly tries to stop, taking deep breaths that just end up making her gasp. In the time that she’s come to know Erik, Christine has figured that he does not have much experience with people. She knows she must be making this incredibly awkward for him, but she cannot seem to make herself stop, and she’s now crying too for them, for how disgusting she looks and feels, and how much of a mess he must think her. It’s been years, and why does she have to break down now of all times? She’s broken out of her spiral by a new sensation, a sudden nudge on her arm. She looks up, and through blurred eyes manages to see a cat. A small stuffed cat, with a button nose and a yarn tail, being held so timidly out to her by Erik, who is standing there looking like he’d do anything in the world to help her. The image of her teacher, in his mask and great black cloak, towering over her holding out the cat, is enough to startle a laugh out of her. “Thank you,” she says, taking the cat in her arms. Ayesha, she remembers, is what Erik named her, his little stuffed toy she’d discovered when trying to comfort him when he’d caught that cold last winter. Holding her, as ridiculous as it would seem, does seem to actually help. Ayesha’s fur is soft against her hands, and more than anything the gesture is what warms her. To think that Erik would try to give her comfort, the best way he knew how, by offering his dearest friend for her to embrace.

[lilliagradiewrites]

freedom (HS)

In which you and Harry rehearse your first dance routine the night before your wedding.

-

Pairing: Fiancee!Harry x Reader (non gender specified, though femme)

Content: Fluff. Disgustingly sweet, lovey dovey, sappy sloppy fluff.

Author's Note: HI BABIES! I missed y'all. I made a little bit of JOn Snow content, leaning on the steamier side... I'm afraid to try writing smut so I'm dipping my toes in by implying smut. Anways, in the meantime, I can always right darling sweet fluffly little fluff- which is exactly what this is. I had this idea while just going about my day today and I just HAD to write it. It is so fucking cute. I really hope you like this one. I promised you Harry content and I keep my word. Expect JJ content next! Maybe some spidey writings in our future as well.

I love yall, I hope you love this>

ENJOY!

“Okay, babe, we can do this. Right, left, spin. Are you ready to try?” Your voice was brimming with encouragement as you spoke to your fianceé, trying your damnedest to coax him out of his shell.

“I’m trying, lovie, I have two left feet.” Harry practically whined, dropping his hands from yours down to his sides like a child. You chuckled lightly to yourself at his protest, then pulled his hand back into yours. 

“You don’t, you’re just new at this. We’re learning together, C’mon, let’s try.” You counted off, then leapt into the dance steps, pulling Harry along with you. The piece was a short excerpt of a dramatic waltz. It was a particularly complicated portion routine, where your feet and Harry’s had to crossover in time with the music. The section was quick but required precision, and it ended with a flourishing turn in which your A-line reception gown would flow out towards your audience. Harry danced with a focused and determined expression on his lovely features, his eyebrows furrowing with attention. 

For the first time, you finish the section with complete success, and Harry spins you out over his knee. As you soon as you finished turning, you squealed and jumped into Harry’s arms, placing a firm kiss on his lips. “We did it! I told you we’d do it!”

Harry laughed at your excitement picking you up and planting another kiss. “It was great, darling.”

Once your husband-to-be lowered your feet back to the ground, you clapped your hands and began to speak. “Okay! So we did it, we got it, we can do it. It’s gonna be great. I think we should probably take a break and go enjoy the night with our friends. You ready to go?”

Harry’s eyes widened with a small inhale. “I-erm, well- I don’t know.” His cheeks went lightly pink with the statement. “Can we run it a few more times? I’m not ready yet, I don’t think.”

You smiled fondly at the love of your life. It meant so much to you that it means so much to him. “Of course. Try it with the music?”

After another hour of running and re-running the number, you finally decided to call it a night. “It’s great, Har. It looks really good. We’ve done it a million times not with no mistakes, it will be perfect.”

Harry looked at you with concern behind those green eyes you loved so much. “Are you sure we can’t practice with the choreographer one more time?”

You laughed, pulling your man close to you. His hands found their place on your hips naturally, your energies magnetic for each other. “The wedding is tomorrow, Harry. We don’t have any more time.”

Harry groaned and buried his head in your shoulder, feigning drastic disappointment. You laughed again, your hands finding his curls and twirling them between your fingers. After a moment, he looked up at you and wrapped his arms fully around you, pulling you closer into him. “I’m sorry for bein’ so nervous. I just want my first dance with my new, wonderful, beautiful wife to be perfect. I know it’s important to you. I want to make you proud and show you off right.”

As you gazed into his eyes, pouring adoration into them, you realized you may not be able to last one more night before this man was your husband. You placed your hand on his cheek, stroking your thumb over his cheekbones. “I love you so much. I cannot fucking wait to marry you. 

“I love you more than anything.” Harry replies, pulling you into the largest, tightest embrace. After a moment of holding you, he pulls back and plants a kiss on your forehead. “I’d better go. The boys are waiting for me at the bar, and we aren’t in the same room tonight, of course.”

You smile at him. “Go find your friends. Enjoy your final night of freedom.”

Harry leans down and kisses you. “You are my freedom.”

With that, he turns and leaves the ballroom, leaving you alone, smiling after him like a schoolgirl with a crush. 

As the silence filling his absence settles in, you realize that is the last time you will ever kiss a man who is not your husband.

[bewitchingbooktours]

Release Day Blitz The Holy Man’s Sinner by T. M. Smith

The Holy Man’s Sinner

Blood Coven World 

Book Three

T. M. Smith

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Evernight Publishing

Date of Publication: April 2, 2024

ISBN: 978-0-3695-0982-6

ASIN: B0CZ18QJRN

Number of pages: 79

Word Count: 1597

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Tagline: An unlikely heart seeks redemption

Book Description:

In an opposites-attract story, the vampire Elisabeta is searching for more than just pleasure and the bludfrenzy. 

When she crosses paths with Nelo, a holy man with a rebellious streak, her world is turned upside down. 

As she navigates a new path filled with self-discovery, romance, and redemption, she must confront the challenges that threaten to tear them apart. 

Will their love transcend the judgment of others and the shadows of their pasts?

Amazon      BN       Kobo     Apple      Books2Read  

Excerpt:

“Tell me about these selfless acts which will heal me.” Her lips caressed the glass as she sipped her drink.

Nelo’s breath caught at the sight. Remembering the conversation, he puzzled his chin with forefinger. “Good deeds will fill your days and contemplation your nights. At the end of your healing, a worthy, seductive male awaits your recovery.” He patted his chest. “The male would be me.”

“Cruor, you lack humility.”

“It is a flaw I work on.”

“In the meantime, you’ll assign me to a soup kitchen until I feel better about myself?”

“To something. Not a soup kitchen.” He tilted his glass, swallowing a sip and noticing how Elisabeta watched him.

“How do you know your solution will work?” she asked.

He rolled the amber liquid in the tumbler. “I am the Cruor, a male wise beyond his years.”

“With only a small flaw.”

“So tiny. Not worth mentioning.” He threw back his drink, rose, and shoved out his hand.

About the Author:

After retiring from her career in education, T. M. Smith settled in to write something more creative than lesson plans on split infinitives and inner-school memos on noise in the hallway.

Taking great interest in the lives of vampires, demons, elves, mages, and other magical beings, she began a paranormal romance series of five books with alpha males who aren't always nice and females who have no problem keeping them in line. The Blood Coven Series is complete. Her new project is a series of stand-alone, short novellas set in the Blood Coven World. In the meantime, she is working on a longer surprise project.

Here are more orts, scraps, and fragments from her life. (a homage to Virginia Wolf and Shakespeare.) She moved from sunny Las Vegas to the less-than-sunny Pacific Northwest. Here she has adventures with her daughter, son-in-law, and two granddaughters who also moved to the area. She also enjoys a membership at Bainbridge Artisan Resource Network (BARN), a local organization that supports the arts and offers classes and events in eleven different studios. It was at BARN where her critique group began. With equal time given to in-depth comments on each other's works, snarky remarks, and laughter, they have now been together nearly eight years.

Website: https://www.tmsmith.net

Contact Me Form: https://bit.ly/43AUMjA

Newsletter sign-up: http://eepurl.com/h8rQVL

Instagram: https://instagram.com/tmsmith12 

TikTok: http://www.tiktok.com/@tmsmifun2ju

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tmsmithauthor

[amethystina]

have you see this yohan x gaon edit to isak danielson's power?? this has been on loop, rent free in my head, for WEEKS.. truly unparalleled vibes, just like what who holds the devil did to me 🥲

Hello there, Anon! No, I have not had the pleasure of seeing it before! So thank you very much for showing it to me — that was GLORIOUS. I mean, those lyrics, the chosen clips, the tension? Absolutely pitch-perfect. I loved it and I assure you that it’ll be living rent free in my head as well from here on out. BEAUTIFUL.

It also made me think of a passage from chapter 22 (that I might be able to post tomorrow? Maybe?) on the subject of the power they have over each other:

Finally, with stunning clarity, Ga On realized the true depth of the warning Lawyer Ko had given him all those weeks ago.

Lawyer Ko had urged Ga On to be careful not only for his own sake, but Yo Han’s as well. Because if Ga On got hurt, Yo Han wouldn’t hesitate to wreak absolute havoc upon the world. He would lash out with swift, merciless vengeance, heedless of what it might demand out of him — not even caring if he caused himself irrevocable damage.

Ga On still had the power to break Yo Han.

The thought was dizzying — frightening — and more than Ga On knew how to handle. He didn’t want that kind of power — had never asked to be one of Yo Han’s weaknesses — but also knew there was nothing he could do about that now. It was already too late, their lives too entwined. Just like Soo Hyun had been willing to give all that she was to protect Ga On, Yo Han wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice his own humanity to avenge him.

If Ga On got hurt, it would break Yo Han, one way or another.

Because this fic needed to get even more emotional, I guess? But, honestly, I’m in favour of almost anything that makes Ga On realise that taking care of himself and being more cautious is a Good Idea. I don’t even care if I have to use Yo Han’s well-being and humanity as leverage.

All is fair in love and fanfics.

[tannithvibes]

hey uh i have some original posts queued but i might go quiet here for a lil bit other than that

[thusspoketrish]

Six Sentences and Then Some on a Sunday

I was re-tagged for this by @corvuscrowned and honestly, I'm so happy for it. Thanks, my lovely. I'm super excited to share this fic in its entirety when ready, but in the meantime, here's a little excerpt! I won't say more beyond - yay! Please enjoy these three wizards and a random baby properly freaking the fuck out xx

‘Oh FUCK!’ Draco cries out in panic, nearly dropping the baby when it jerks in his arms. He rests the wailing, squirming thing against his chest, his arms wrapping around it. His heartbeat is so erratic it feels like it’ll explode. ‘Oh Merlin. That was close!’

Potter steps forward, arms spread wide. ‘You don’t know what you’re doing. Give it to me. I’m a Healer!’

‘Fuck off, you specialise in Magical creatures, you know nothing about human babies,’ Draco growls, his shoulders tensing as he spins away from Potter, hugging the child close. The baby doesn’t relent in its wailing.

‘I did a bloody rotation!’ Potter cries out.

Draco scowls, and hisses, ‘Three years ago!’

‘Is it hungry? Maybe we should feed it?’ the Weasel suddenly chimes in.

‘Well, we can’t bloody well feed it canapés and gin! Can we?’ Draco shouts over the noise, thinking of the meagre contents of the cool cabinet. ‘I mean, we can’t, right?’ he enquires, head cocking to the side as he stares down at the small, reddening face of the baby.

Potter slaps a palm to his forehead before running his fingers through his unruly hair. ‘Don’t be an idiot...’

The Weasel then steps up to Draco, wiping his hands on his apron before lifting the child gingerly from Draco’s arms.

‘Shhh…’ the Weasel murmurs before sticking his finger into its mouth. The crying suddenly stops.

Draco makes a gagging noise. ‘Are your hands even clean, Weasel?’

‘Shut it. You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first,’ the Weasel says, his smile warm as the baby curls its chubby fingers around the Weasel’s hand.

Potter shakes his head in awe. ‘How’d you know how to do that?’

The Weasel smirks. ‘Well, I'm pretty sure holding it like a Quaffle isn’t the right way to go about it.’

The Weasel, further proving that he apparently has more sense than the rest of them, leans forward to peer into the bassinet. With a free hand he plucks out a small note. He clears his voice and reads,

Dear Auror Malfoy….

Ahhhhh! thank you for reading. tagging (and seriously, at this point, retagging): @phoebe-delia, @wheezykat, @vukovich, @digtheshipper, @moonstruckwytch, @gallifrey1sburning, @calypsotempete, @mysticdreamers, @avenueofesc, and anyone else!

[adelaidedrubman]

wip once again

tagged by @scungilliwoman and @lilwritingraven to share a wip on this day!! i promise with 94% certainty wildfire chapter 7 will be up tomorrow unless something's like. wrong. and then i promise i'll kick around with some drabbles on the one word prompts i received :') promise.

in the meantime, have an excerpt from one of the other prompts i've been jumping between below cut. set in no reaping au and warnings for some very mild innuendo and implications of what could potentially be read as possessive jealousy (although tbh i intended it more as insecure clinginess.)

passing the tag on to @shallow-gravy @stacispratt @consumedkings @vasiktomis @faithchel @strafethesesinners @chyrstis @chazz-anova

“To Missoula?” the man questioned as he rose to stand from his place tangled in the covers of Jestiny’s bed. “For the whole week? Why?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she began with a huff, because it wasn’t his business, and she didn’t really know why in the first place she’d casually mentioned as she dressed for the day that she’d be out of town next weekend, “But Whitehorse is making me go to a police training seminar,” she explained as she tucked the tails of her shirt into her jeans. “Because someone made a big stink about me not wanting to take down their legally baseless crime report a few weeks ago.”

“Aaah,” he hummed in acknowledgement. “Well, I suppose you should have just taken the poor fellow’s statement, but…” he sucked his teeth. “Hindsight.”

She turned back towards him with fists clenched at her sides and burning amber eyes, making him raise outstretched palms in a show of retreat. “Regardless of the why,” he digressed with a wavering lower of his arms as if to smooth back over the conversation, “The training lasts the whole week, then?”

“Well, it lasts 'til Friday. I figured I'd stay through the weekend,” she replied, running too twitchy fingers through her hair a few times before finally picking up a brush to comb through copper locks. “It's a discounted rate to get the whole week at the hotel, and shit's coming out of my paycheck, anyways,” she elaborated with a shrug. “And Missoula is a cool city.”

“Almost more of a town than a city, really,” he mumbled with barely concealed bitterness as he lifted himself up by his hands to sit atop her dresser.

“Maybe it's not Atlanta,” she responded with a roll of her eyes, “But it's a city by Montana standards. It's got like, bars and clubs and shit,” she elaborated, pushing his leg out of the way to open a drawer. “And it'll be nice to get away for a weekend.”

She tried not to look at him, tried not to notice the way he subtly furrowed his brows and pushed out his bottom lip. “Hope County has bars.”

“Well, I've been to those bars,” she said as she pulled a small pair of hoop earrings from the drawer to poke through her ears. “I go to those bars every weekend.”

“Well, there's nothing wrong with going to the same bar every weekend.”

“Really?” she scoffed as she opened a lower drawer, pulling out a belt to loop through her jeans. “'Cause I think you told me you used to go to a lot of bars, back in Atlanta,” she said with raised eyebrows as she fastened her belt, still looking down at the wood grain and not the man to her side, “I heard you'd go to a bunch of different bars in the same night, sometimes. What was your record, again? Eleven bars in a single day?”

“That was Atlanta,” he said sharply through gritted teeth. “None of the bars there were really special enough to visit more than a handful of times. But the bars in Hope County are more than enough for me now. They are fine establishments. I enjoy being a regular.”

“Alright, sure, plenty of bars here,” she continued as she moved his legs out of the way again without looking directly at him, as if he were nothing more than an inconveniently placed object, even as this time she pushed them apart to yank open the drawer between where they dangled, “It's been awhile since I've been to a real club, though.”

“Wait, does club mean…?”

She slammed the drawer back shut again. “It fuckin' means club, John!” she finally shouted, shaking outstretched hands in front of his face to punctuate her words. “That’s all it means. And that's not even what my plans are for the weekend, I was just tryin' to say it will be nice to spend time in a city.”

[efkgirldetective]

ma'am. if you do not post something from ch17. i will cry. actually tear up. i have my SAT next week and i'm a nervous wreck pls let me have this piece of joy.

anonnn i do not want you to cry but i DO want you to KILL that SAT next week !!!!!!!!!! in the meantime...

⭐️⭐️⭐️enjoy the excerpt lol ⭐️⭐️⭐️

“But I don’t hate you,” she murmurs, blinking slow. “I like you. I like you a lot.”

If I was the boy I used to be, in this room, with this girl, hearing her say I like you—I would have crumbled into something unbearably small. I would not have known what to do with my hands.

And how is it that—even knowing her, now—I still falter? Hands gone sweaty, breath a rasp in my lungs, heart clattering madly—like it's the first time?

“I’ve wondered, often—” she breaks off, lip caught, again, between teeth—as if she’s timid; nerve-wracked.

“What?” I breathe, even so short on breath.

“Wondered...” she restarts, tentatively, pushing up off the bed and walking, very slowly, toward where I cower by the door. “If you still fancy me, too.”

She pauses not a step away. Her cheeks are pink—a real flush, even despite the pretense, even despite her curling herself inside my younger brain, prying from me a real and remembered desire, urgent and untrained; spiking through me now like it never left—like I never left this dormitory, or this dream of her coming to me; confessing.

So close, she is more real than I remember.

“Evans,” I swallow, “you know I do.”

I focus on the breath leaving her lips; the way it curls, subtly, at the end, into a gentle sound; she tugs closer to me, stumbling, uneasy in the space between. My chest catches her hands-first. She can feel that heartbeat, there’s no doubt. Clattering madly.

Her eyes flick up to mine—and I can see, clearly, that although we’re playing different versions of ourselves, we’re not pretending, not really. There’s a newness; a trembling.

I’ve kissed her before, but I’ve never kissed her like this—not until she leans into me, presses her mouth to mine. And it’s soft and whispering and just like I always thought it would be if she came here, heart on her sleeve—on my sleeve—asking, gently, for reassurance.

I inhale as she retreats, feel her fingers tighten on my shirt. “Potter,” she muses. “You’re shaking.”

“I like you so much,” I manage, through the narrow haze of it all, through the desperate resistance of simply saying what I really mean.

She blinks. She smiles. The distance between her past and present self glitters; threatens to collapse.

“Then kiss me.”

[champion-of-thedas]

Wheel of Time Book Club Eye of the World Prologue: Dragonmount

Let’s start at the beginning! (A very good place to start)

Full disclosure: my first read I didn’t finish the series. I got through a good chunk (a little over halfway) and then a friend spoiled the rest for me... extensively. I started doing my own research afterwards so that we could have actual conversations, but starting around book 8 or 9, it’ll sort of be and not be new territory for me. It’s definitely gotten to the point where I’m a little unsure what I’ve read and what I’ve not, so I might suddenly (in those books) say “oh! I don’t remember this!”.

In the meantime, let’s talk the prologue to the Eye of the World. I think I’ve decided on spoilers, because I want to discuss the foreshadowing in the series so SPOILER WARNING.

I think I ended up reading the prologue about three times because it’s just so good. I think it definitely exemplifies what I enjoy about Jordan’s writing and gives the reader a taste of what is to come. Not only does it set the tone with the descriptions (a very visceral tone), but it also introduces us to two major characters: Lews Therin Telamon and ‘Elan Morin Tedronai’.

I absolutely love their interactions and how we can juxtapose them with their interactions later in the series (technically?). It definitely sets up Lews Therin’s madness, not to mention it works really well with Rand’s own issues later and his fear of killing those he cares about and when he almost does. 

One thing that I didn’t notice before was the implication from Elan (since that is what he is referred to as, that is what I will call him here) that Lews Therin was named Dragon and did not embrace it, so it wasn’t a celebrated title even then. Maybe it was addressed later in the series than I read and was never discussed or maybe I just don’t remember that plot point. Either way, he was probably named such by his enemies instead of it being a title to show admiration for his power. Naturally, Elan starts listing off all of Lews Therin’s titles and accomplishments, which I’ll admit struck me as a bit of weird exposition first time around, but it fits with what we know of Elan’s personality, so it doesn’t bother me on reread. He’s so grandiose.

I love the early glimpse we get of Elan’s morality and what lead him to the dark. “This war has not lasted ten years, but since the beginning of time. You and I have fought a thousand battles with the turning of the Wheel, a thousand times a thousand, and we will fight until time dies and the Shadow is triumphant!” It definitely sounds like an evil “you may have won this round, but I’ll get you eventually,” but upon reread it’s more like he’s explaining his logic. 

Also just “What hand slew Ilyena Sunhair, Kinslayer? Not mine. Not mine. What hand struck down every life that bore a drop of your blood, everyone who loved you, everyone you loved? Not mine, Kinslayer. Not mine. Remember, and know the price of opposing Shai’tan!” Just. My heart. Especially with the awful way he responds. Then we have the creation of Dragonmount and two excerpts from texts from the fourth age (which is the age AFTER the series and thus would also reflect the knowledge gained in that time) discussing what happened afterwards. The two are The Breaking of the World (alternate title Aleth nin Taerin alta Camora) and The Cycle of the Dragon (Charal Drianaan te Calamon). If anyone remembers what those languages are supposed to be, please let me know. I’m curious.

Please leave replies or comments so that we can discuss this chapter or anything I missed, be it foreshadowing or small details that interest you. I have a friend that’s read the books, but there’s only so often/much that I can inflict my hyperfixation on her.

[theoriginalladya]

Destiny’s Fate (update)(main story)

Destiny’s Fate is the main story in my ShepShep world. John and Jane Shepard have known one another since they were fifteen years old.  Through thick and thin they’ve been friend, lover, and spouse to one another.  Destiny has a grand plan for them.

Until Jane dies over Alchera and John finally finds a way to live again.  When they meet up again on Horizon, both their worlds are shattered.  Harsh words and bitterness ensue, as does a divorce, leaving them on a different sort of battlefield.  A personal one.

But Destiny’s grand plan cannot be changed, and as the promised Reaper attack gets underway, they are brought together once more to face the greatest threat all civilization in the galaxy has ever known.  Can they set aside their differences enough to partner up and defeat the common enemy?  Or will their own personal battles defeat them in the process?   

Summary: Once united in all things, Destiny has guided John and Jane Shepard to separate, divergent paths; however, both know the future holds a far greater threat than the rest of the galaxy is willing to acknowledge. Can they join together one last time to complete the mission they started together, or will Fate deal them a final losing hand …

Tags: marriage, divorce, strained relationships, angst, pregnancy (past), loss of pregnancy (past), emotional hurt/comfort, death, descrption of battle, biotics, injury

Chapter:  Pulling Rank

Word Count:  approximately 3900

NOTE:  Camp Nano starts in a couple of days and I’ll be attempting to build a buffer of chapters up for this fic during that time, so I may not post again until May.  In the meantime, enjoy!

Excerpt:

Dr. Chakwas’ voice fades into the distant hum of the Normandy’s engines and the soft whir of the air recycling systems before Jane finds her voice.  To say she is stunned is putting it mildly, and she’ll be damned if she will let it go without protest.  “Doctor, you can’t just –!”

The doctor turns, her sharp eyes narrowing on Jane as she closes the connection on her omni-tool. “I can and I will, commander,” she replies firmly, enunciating each word.  “You know this from past experience.”  She folds her arms across her chest, a clear indication she isn’t about to budge on the subject.  “Must I remove you from active duty to make you understand?”

Muttering a curse beneath her breath, Jane remains where she is, not daring to hop off the examination table just yet.  The doctor’s mood is never one to trifle with, but at the moment, Jane does not doubt the other woman means exactly what she says.  And she has the power to do it, too.  Dammit!  

Behind her, the soft swoosh of the door to the medbay opening pulls her attention away from the doctor and Jane turns.  Her eyes connect with Kaidan’s as he strides into the room; perfect timing as always. He stops less than a half dozen steps inside and as if sensing the tension, shifts his gaze between the doctor and Jane several times before asking, “Something wrong, doctor?”

Jane tosses her hands in the air, disgusted with everyone in the room at the moment, especially the betrayal of her own body.  “Oh, for the love of –!”

Chakwas, prepared for Jane’s reaction, cuts across the mutterings.  “Yes, major, thank you.  Your timing couldn’t be better.  If you would, please escort the commander to her quarters and see that she remains there for the next twenty-four hours.  She is under strict orders to rest.” Jane folds her arms across her chest to imitate the woman and glares.  “If she refuses to cooperate, you have my authority to pull rank and restrict her from duty for the foreseeable future.”

“What?”

Kaidan’s shoulders stiffen.  “Understood.”

Jane’s glare turns onto him next.  Outwardly, he shows no reaction to either of them, save for a small nod in the doctor’s direction and a small movement of his hand beckoning Jane to join him.  Jane, however, knows better, just as she suspects he will be insufferable to live with after this.  Having one of them pull rank is bad enough, but the both of them? But there is nothing she can do about it for now as she hops off the examination table and heads out of the room.

~~~

Read on AO3 // Read from Beginning // Read Destiny’s Fate:Downtime // Read Series

Thank you all for reading and your comments!  Feel free to drop an ask if you have questions about ShepShep or just want to talk about them!  :)

[mrssimply]

I love your work so much! ❤️

I'd like to request Kerry x Johnny

“I told you, you would eventually start begging.”

HELLLO! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

I said I was going on holiday and would have less time. But I didn't think I would have absolutely no time at all!!!

To reassure you that I was still working on it (and working on the others too!), I decided to give you an excerpt of it. Since I received two prompts for Johnny x Kerry following one another, I kinda feel like they are connected and decided to write this one as a direct sequel to that one, so I can only invite you to read it in the meantime ;).

And even though I played with ideas about a ansgty one, I finally decided that they deserved some freaking happiness and joy, so prepare for maximum fun and also smut ('cause it was from the smutty list and by now, you should all know how I love writting smut of the explicit kind.)

BUT, the whole work probably won't be available until next week, I'm so sorry, I really can't do better ^^'. In the meantime, enjoy this (small) teasing!!!

----

In the box where Kerry kept the lube and condoms, were also a variety of dildos, straps-on (from the odd girlfriends Kerry took to bed), cock-rings and vibrators of all size, power and color. Johnny was replacing the lube into the box while finishing his smoke when one particular item caught his interest.

With a corner smile, and a quizzical frown, he took the thing into his metal hand and brought it to eye level. It was long as a fore-finger, curved with one end like an egg, the rest looking like a tail with a water-drop shape at the end. On that end, there was a discreet on/off button, that Johnny pressed while taking a drag from his cigarette. It started buzzing softly, and the egg part moved as if two marbles were rotating around one another inside.

Johnny watched it happen more than he felt it because of the cyberarm, and exchanged the smoke and the toy to experience the sensation fully. He couldn’t help but smile as he felt the marbles press alternatively in his hand. He was still holding it when Kerry came back from his shower.

“What’s this?” Johnny asked with a confident smirk to hide his genuine curiosity.

Kerry came to the bed, with just a towel wrapped around his waist, and sat near the other man. His hand fell on Johnny’s bare thigh, his thumb brushing the inside of the muscle. They both pretended to ignore the way Johnny shifted, arching so subtly into the touch. If he was more and more open with his reactions in their love-making, he didn’t like them pointed out and Kerry, although known to love playing with fire, didn’t want to spook him.

Looking into his friend’s eyes with a mischievous expression, Kerry took the toy.

“This, Johnny-boy, is my favorite weapon to turn straight boys into butt-sluts.”

[ahatintimepieces]

Sorry if this ends up sounding cheesy or whatever, but I just wanted to say that I really love and enjoy all of your dad Snatcher/Moonjumper fics. I really like the Siren one too (: I've been struggling with my depression a lot lately but reading those fanfics have been helping me cope and get through it. Every time I see a notification for Beyond A Shadow Of A Doubt, it fills me with so much joy. Thank you so very much.

Ahhhhh it’s not cheesy at all!!!! It means so so so much to me that my stories could do that for you ;o; <333 I truly hope things get softer, Anon. I’m sending all my love and support. I hope my stories can keep sharing joy! In the meantime, I have an excerpt for the next chapter of Beyond and Shadow of a Doubt! It’s another flashback chapter where Luka is Peak Dad. And thanks again, for reading my stories, ;o; I’m very grateful <33333

Hattie laughed as she dropped her pillows.

“Swablu used heal pulse!” Hattie jumped directly onto his stomach and he gasped as she knocked the wind from him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him in a hug.

“Heal pulse?” Luka wheezed, gently shifting to a sitting position. “I didn’t know a Swablu could use that move!”

“I’m a magic Swablu!” Hattie explained with a matter-of-fact tone.

“Magic?” Luka marveled, grinning mischievously as he lifted his arms. “Then I guess I have no choice but to—capture it!”

He seized her before she could escape, and she let out a yelp as he crouched over and blew raspberries on her stomach. She squealed before dissolving into a fit of contagious laughter.

“I’ve snatched the Swablu!” he cheered as he straightened.

“The Snatcher of Pokémon has claimed another victim!” Hattie flopped back in his arms dramatically. “I didn’t stand a chance!”

“But you put up a valiant fight!” Luka encouraged, nuzzling his nose against hers. “Now it’s time for this little Swablu to get dressed.”

“Aw,” Hattie rolled off of his lap and dropped to her feet. Luka instinctively held out his hands to catch her if she stumbled, but she scrambled over to her small suitcase to pick out an outfit without a care.