#I feel like I should stop making so many snippets of posts like this but

[girlvinland]

Everything keeps feeling so off right now. I just wish I knew if I was being too overbearing.

[scrollypoly]

Alex Kister has made a response to the document made by Ven

The link to the document. PLEASE READ THIS DOCUMENT BEFORE SPREADING FALSE CLAIMS

Alright this is a much more concise and well written document than Ven's was, so ill be brief. Im also gonna strike out my neutrality for this, because after reading Ven's document and seeing the behavior of the accusers on tumblr, I have lost what little belief in this document that i had and belief it was made in poor faith to slander and condemn Alex on false claims.

First, the important claims. Alex did not groom anyone. In fact, Alex says that Ven and DB are older than Alex, and Ven's statements of them being in their 29s corroborates this, as Alex is only 20 years old. Stop spreading misinfo that Alex is a pedophile or a groomer

Alex hits every point that Ven makes in their document and talks through them all. He talks only briefly for how Ven went through their prior relationship, just enough to acknowledge that it wasn't a healthy relationship and that Ven also had some responsibility in how the relationship went down, especially around the miscommunication between the two of them. These miscommunications would later come up in DB's relationship with Alex as well. It is not Alex's responsibility to see through others when they communicate that things are fine when they are not. It is up to the other party to properly communicate their feelings and any problems they may be having in the relationship. Even in the screenshots from Ven's document, we see clearly that when Ven or DB express any discomfort about something, Alex apologizes and backpedals. This is good and normal behavior.

Alex also discusses Ven's intentions with this document

Literally all of this could have been solved privately and been so much better for everyone. I acknowledge and respect that Ven and DB were hurt by their relationships with Alex, but a relationship is a private matter, and problems in that relationship should be respectfully handled between those in the relationship. This document was cruel, exposing Alex's sexual discussions to the public, outting his identity as a transgender person, and slandering him with little regard for the truth or hearing his side of the interactions. This matter should have been handled privately.

One of the things i acknowledged Alex being in the wrong for in my post on Ven's document was suicide baiting. I'll let this snippet in his document speak for itself. I am undecided on how i feel about the interaction, but this gives very important insight to it.

Alex also speaks and gives more context and information about his relationship with DB. As stated earlier, DB was also older than Alex. Alex did not groom DB. The same problems with miscommunication Alex had with Ven can also be discussed here. DB was in a consenting relationship with Alex and as Alex shows, responded in kind to Alex's advances and even advanced the relationship further on my own. From Alex's perspective in this document, it looks like he and DB had a comfortable consenting relationship that was suddenly retracted by DB. If DB was uncomfortable with anything in this relationship, they should have spoken up and discussed it with Alex.

All in all, Ven's document already had a lot of flaws, and Alex's response points out many more flaws that I didn't initially see as well. Please note this response is only to Ven's document, and does not acknowledge the other allegations made by donut, mitcha, or any of the others. I assume Alex will also talk about those, I will wait and see before discussing those allegations further.

[litnerdwrites]

Justice for Nesta recs (AO3)

Most, if not all, of these recs are in the Justice for Nesta/ ACOSF rewrite/fix-it vein. It will be updates as I find more fics, but feel free to send any recs you have.

TRIGGER WARNING! Many of these fics will be very dark, with references to suicide, ptsd, misogyny, and IC BS. However, I'll be sure to add specifics where applicable.

Fics For Those Craving Nesta JusticeI put all the fics I found into one collection on AO3 that, as the title suggests, are for those craving Nesta Justice. Please read the relevant tags for each fic, as many of them contain reference to PTSD, SA (both past referenced and in story), and general IC BS.

I'll also list every fic in this collection bellow, just to keep them all in one place. Feel free to also add your own finds or works if you have any. The collection is open, but moderated.

Those the Stars Cannot Hear by @kataraavatara An ACOSF rewrite where Mor makes good on her threat to leave Nesta in the CON.

Baby, now we got bad blood by Pumpkinspice_Lou They say you should never come between a male and his mate. Rhysand should've known better. Aka Cassian finally choosing Nesta. Completed two-shot.

A Court of Vice and Victors by Wishcamper Acosf rewritten by a therapist. Need I say more? Incomplete.

You Made Her Like That By BookWorm77071 A few days into their Hike from Hell, Nesta is able to form one coherent thought: I don't want to do this anymore. So she stops. Three chapter short story. Completed.

Nesta becomes a baby by Theladyofbloodshed Exactly what the title says. Oneshot.

A Court of Tangled Flames by Theladyofbloodshed A Neris fic where Nesta gets the love story she deserves.

ACOTAR snippet collection by Theladyofbloodshed A collection of Acotar what ifs.

Nesta vs. The Buffer by Theladyofbloodshed After Nesta finally snaps at another 'family' dinner, calling Cassian and Mor out on their shit, she begins to heal and fall in love on her own terms. With a certain shadowsinger. Completed. Nezriel fic. Anti IC but they kind of redeem themselves at the end. Completed.

AU Where We Pretend Acosf Didn't Happen by Theladyofbloodshed An alternative take to ACOSF, starting from post ACOFS. Nesta ends up leaving Velaris, starting herself on a journey of self discovery and healing. TW Beron Vansera, implied/referenced SA, IC being assholes.

Nightmare Dressed Like A Daydream by This_Immortal_Hope Nesta was a wolf. So, much like a wolf, she bided her time, accepting her exile with ice in her and determination in her heart. When she was ready, she tore their Court of Dreams apart with their own hypocrisy. One shot. No ship. Rhysand is thoroughly put in his place. Oneshot.

Second Chances by miryamdev Cassian apologises to Nesta after the HOFAS bonus chapter.

A trick of the light by closet_monster There was nothing condemning about madness or paralyzing fear. Nesta was familiar with both — they seemed to be a recurring theme in both womanhood and life in Hewn. Oneshot. TW Depression, self harm, and implied abuse. Please double check the tags before reading.

Burn for Eternity by rosemai Nesta is defeated and broken down by the words of her sisters and the IC, so she takes matters into her own hands and meets a group on individuals who could give her the help she needs. Incomplete.

Nesta's Truth by grovellingboyfriends After another year of leaving Nesta alone, Cassian finds Nesta in her apartment on Solstice, standing over a dead man. TW for implied SA, parental abuse, Elain is a bitch. 3/5 chapters published as of making this post.

Daylight by Flowerflamestar Nesta Archeron, banished and betrayed, ran from cold and hatred straight into the light of Day and found a place where she could belong. Completed.

Might I Suggest You Don't Fuck With My Sis by MacabreGiggles The intervention rethought, where the Archeron sisters decide to stand up for one another and put the IC in their place. Incomplete.

I died. I will die. It's alright. I don't mind. By MacabreGiggles Nesta resorts to other means to cope, like drugs. Incomplete. TW. Abuse. Alcolism. Suicide. Sexual assault. Drug abuse.

The Veil of Silence by Hrizantemy There exists a veil of silence, it shrouds our voices masking our truths, muffling our cries, our voices are muted, and dreams whispered. Incomplete.

You're a crisis of my faith by porque_nolosdos Nesta and Elain leave the NC, and upon seeing the IC's reaction, Feyre decides to ditch them too. Incomplete.

A thousand cuts by adelindschade It finally clicks for Cassian just how badly Nesta was hurting (it only took three TW suicide TW attempts), so he decides to try thinking of what Nesta would want. This decision leaves a ripple effect that will change the NC as we know it. Incomplete.

The consequences of normality by TheTeaQueen After the events of ACOSF, things seem relatively normal. Until Cassian realises that Nesta doesn't ask for things, or that self hatred still grips her, or the facade she puts on for her family. When she starts cutting back on training and work in the library, he begins to worry. Maybe things aren't as perfect as he thought. Maybe their methods in helping her weren't as effective as he thought. Incomplete.

Three little words by TheTeaQueen Cassian finally says those three little words that Nesta needed to hear. Oneshot.

Like fire, she raged by TheTeaQueen Emerie stands up for Nesta and puts Rhys and Feyre in their place. Completed.

Of Death and Resurrection by TheTeaQueen Part 1 of In the name of healing and happiness. Nesta was ready to die. So to save Feyre and Nyx, she did. Can Rhysand, the only person who can save her, bring her back from the brink? Completed. TW Implied suicide, rape/sa, anti Elain.

Of Shadows and Light by TheTeaQueen Part 2 of In the name of healing and happiness. Technically more of a Gwynriel fic, but does have some Nessian since it follows the aftermath of Of death and Resurrection, only Azriel, Gwyn & Elain are the main focus. Ties up a lose thread or two from part 1, and is 100% Anti Elain. Completed. TW Implied child abuse, implied suicide, torture.

Of Reopened Wounds and Retribution by TheTeaQueen Part 3 of In the name of healing and happiness. A trip to the human lands to discuss the treaty leads Nesta to face Thomas Mandray again. This time, she has family willing to go to hell and back for her. Incomplete. TW Implied rape/sa, panic attack.

Lady Death and Her Kingdom by TheTeaQueen Amren pushes Nesta too far, causing her to awaken a strange new power. TW Implied child abuse. Incomplete.

The Hike, Alternatively by TheTeaQueen An alternative take on The Hike from Hell, where Nesta attempt to TW commit suicide TW, and Cassian realises just how messed up their methods, and the events leading up to the hike are. Written for Suicide prevention month. Completed. TW Self harm, suicide, The Hike.

To Pay a Debt by TheTeaQueen When Nesta sees that Feyre didn't include her in any of the paintings, she does the only thing she can think of; Run. Incomplete. TW, attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, mentioned sa.

Burning from the Inside out by TheTeaQueen An au where Nesta's secretly lived with Chronic pain her whole life, only for the cauldron and her new powers to exacerbate it. Complete. TW Implied/referenced child abuse, suicidal thoughts, ableism, internalised ableism.

The Whole Truth by TheTeaQueen An alternative take where Nesta's deepest secret comes to light when Elain explodes at the dinner table one night. This forces the IC and her sisters to reevaluate their perception of her. Incomplete. TW: Child abuse, suicidal thoughts/ideation, forced prostitution, sexual assault (underage!!)

Set my Soul Alight by moodymelanist Nesta finds solace in Autumn. No Nessian. Completed. TW Implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced rape, implied/referenced torture.

Falling by becauseofreading Another take on what happens after Cassian tells Nesta that everybody hates her. Incomplete. TW Self harm, suicidal thoughts, blood and injuries.

Destruction and Renewal by Vorbi Nesta is given the opportunity to form new alliances. Initially, she scoffs at the idea, but after a small, final act of disrespect from the IC, she decides to see where this new path leads us. Incomplete. TW Implied/referenced abuse.

No One Likes A Mad Woman by Separatist_Apologist You made her like that. Nesta has had her choices tripped away, so when Eris offers her an out, she takes it. No happy ending for Cassian. The Night Court gets no sympathy. Completed. TW Domestic violence

A Cup of Tea by shaziskhalid After realising that the Cassian of her dreams isn't the Cassian she's mated to, everything changed. (MCU! Wanda, modern Au). Incomplete.

Promise by Daughterofthesea Begins during that scene where Cassian follows Nesta, and ends with him understanding just how much pain she's in, and deciding to actually help her.

Stay here (I love you, but I need another year) by littleplease Nesta is tired, and losing the will to even try. Complete. TW Apathy, depression, vuage suicidal thoughts.

What you did to me (I'll spend my life trying to rise) by filthymouthedslut Nesta is done with the IC's holier-than-thou attitude. No ship. Incomplete (3/4) as of updating this post.

Everybody hates you by Booksandsushi A different take on the time Cassian tells Nesta that Everybody hates her. Incomplete.

Change is good by Booksandsushi Nesta figures her life out on her own. Complete.

Truth of the Heart By TheFreakPanda The months after ACOFAS leave Nesta presented with some new opportunities. Full of therapy and dancing. Completed.

I've Always Liked to Play with Fire by catalyste After her village is destroyed and family killed by Hybern following Feyre's revenge mission, you wake up healed in the NC. After Lucien leaves you there, you find yourself trapped with Nesta Archeron, who turns out to be an unlikely ally. The two of you plan your escape with the help of Eris Vansera. Polly, Neris/reader, with IC bashing, and dragons. Incomplete.

The relapse by Janes_Melodies Something broke in Nesta when she learned about the results of the vote, knowing it was a tie until Feyre. She was trying for her sisters and for Cassian, yet they still think she's cruel enough to create a whole new trove just to kill them all. For the first time in months, she gave into her desires. Incomplete. TW Alcoholism, Implied/referenced self harm, suicidal thoughts.

You're safe now by annieleonhardtsring Rewrite of the scene where Nesta falls down the stairs, and Azriel stands up for her. Complete.

Love her how she should be loved by julemmaes Cassian overhears his family making some not-so-subtle comments about Nesta, and it pushes him over the edge. So he goes to bat for her, blaming his friends for everything wrong with their relationship with his girlfriend. Modern AU completed.

The Nest World - The Next Life by bat_called_phil ACOSF canon divergence fic that starts with the intervention, but diverts when Nesta takes a stand for herself, and Feyre starts holding Rhys accountable. TW Implied/referenced suicide, Implied/referenced abortion.

A Court of Spite and Isolation by xxTAO Nesta choses the human lands, separated from the IC and the distractions from her trauma, she spirals. Incomplete (4/6) TW Suicidal thoughts, Implied/referenced alcoholism, Suicide attempt.

Come Home by Rhysanoodle Cassian learns how Nesta's been living since she came to Illyria, and which fears haunt her the most. Complete.

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @theotherbuckley 💖

can't believe im still not done with this fic but this week has been *a lot* and so chaotic and i just want sunday to have a day off to write lol (I had to check like five times to make sure it is, in fact, friday even tho the episode aired last night on thursday, what is time anyway lol)

so, more 7x06 buck's pov, and hopefully the last snippet before I post this lol

prev snippet

___

As soon as he sees Tommy walk through the door, he feels heat and want and desire mixed with affection and endearment consume him. Because this man – this gorgeous, cool, interesting man, with the most adorable cleft, and so smooth and charming he makes Buck turn into a blushing blubbering mess – this man is walking in, still in his turnout gear, completely covered in soot and ash, hands held up apologetically, a remorseful, worried look on his face. Tommy seems to have rushed here straight after work, clearly not even stopping by the station to change or shower, or even wipe his face, goddammit. And he looks hot. Buck’s seen firefighters look like this, hell, he looked like this himself many times, but there’s something about Tommy, in his gear, all dirty and disheveled, and here – something about this image takes Buck’s breath away, and he can’t help the smile spreading across his face. 

“Sorry I’m late.” Tommy apologizes, as if him being here at all, instead of passing out in bed after a long, exhausting shift, wasn’t making a thousand butterflies come to life in Buck’s stomach. “That fire was a beast.” he adds, and Buck-

Buck can only respond with a simple “So are you,” and crash his lips against Tommy’s. Because Tommy is. God, he’s such a beast.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @tizniz @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @your-catfish-friend @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @loveyouanyway

btw should i make a separate tag list for snippets and/or fics for bucktommy? bc I know it's not everyone's thing so if anyone wants me to stop tagging them for bucktommy, just lmk - and if anyone wants to start being tagged, also lmk! (I am still writing buddie, and I'll be back to posting them soon-ish but rn this is more fun for me sns haha but whenever i do, bucktommy is not going anywhere anyway 😝)

[seyaryminamoto]

Fic-to-Art #38: Ozai carries Azula to the physicians' wing

This has been done for A WHILE now, but I didn't post it because the past days have been chaotic and not just on a personal level. For one thing, I really wasn't eager to drop this when people were losing their shit massively over the liveaction and its recontextualization of Azula and Ozai's dynamics, I didn't look forward to releasing this just to be told that whatever I've done in my story is somehow wrong, sooooooooo... that held me back, for a few days.

Then? The AI-Tumblr deal started to be talked about and I may or may not have freaked out about that too. Sooo... this is the first glazed and nightshaded piece of my creation, as consequence. The original, clean and proper version is available in my Patreon. Is this me being a dick to Tumblr-only people? Unfortunately, it very much isn't, I'm not trying to say that if you want the best iterations of my art, you should pay me for it... this is squarely, entirely, at staff/the CEO's feet. Obviously, there's the insecure side of me that goes "what makes you think they'd steal YOUR art when there are so many better artists out there!" but ultimately? AI is about taking everything en masse. It isn't a matter of developing a criteria about who makes the better art... it's just taking EVERYTHING and trying to repurpose it in whatever twisted way it needs to. Therefore? I think my choice is more of a matter of caution than anything else. Once AI bullshit dies out (and I really hope it does), we may just return to the same level of quality across all my accounts. For now, it is what it is.

ANYWAY! Point is this artwork is very much what my Patrons happened to vote for this month, a very shocking scene where Ozai reacted in the least foreseen way to Azula being attacked. Azula's confusion/terror comes from a place of not knowing what to do and being powerless to stop her father even if she doesn't feel comfortable with his help... but for once, Ozai isn't making a dreadful choice that will only devastate his daughter. He's actually worried about her health... and feeling genuine guilt over what landed her in the situation where she was in danger in the first place. Yes. I like me my complex Ozai who finally learned actions have consequences. He bores me to death otherwise :') if anyone STILL doesn't know that this whole situation is Gladiator-specific, then I shall clarify fully: this is artwork based on my fic. It's about a story that has been developing these characters for ALMOST ELEVEN YEARS now. It has nothing to do with whatever's going on in canon or in the liveaction, the scene in question was written almost two years ago and the artwork proposed and voted for several days before the liveaction aired. Ergo: there is no connection between this and that. Nor am I saying through this piece that Ozai is a good father. He is not. He can still be an interesting character to work with on a narrative level anyway :')

Alright. With that out of the way, hope you guys like this piece! The big one I haven't posted is ALSO finished, also glazed and nightshaded, but I think I might just end up posting it on the 26th if I don't have time to do anything big for our eleventh anniversary... yep, I'm so busy I don't even have a huge project in mind this time. Also? I have a lot to write and I'm finally happily writing it, and I would like to continue doing that...

Anyway! If you would like to be part of the creative process behind this piece, as well as see it in its proper, OG, less color-bleeding clunky version? A $1 Patreon pledge gives you the chance to join in suggesting prompts, voting for them and reading Gladiator snippets 6 days before a new chapter is released!

[ramblingoak]

A Few Scratches

Mushy May in Lucifer's Hollow: Day 18: Holding Hands

Copia x Aether

This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. It's sort of like a Satanic version of a Hallmark town. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!

~ ~ In Lucifer's Hollow Copia teaches history at the high school and Aether is a firefighter. ~

Warnings: some whump here, mentions of injuries from a car accident, but it's mixed in with some mushiness, sfw, 960 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)

The steady beep of the monitor was the most reassuring sound Aether had ever heard.

So was the feeling of Copia’s hand in his, the skin soft and warm.  He hadn’t been able to let go since the doctors had let him in the room.  Aether hoped Copia could feel it, he hoped that despite how scared he was still his presence was soothing in some way.  He knew Copia was going to be fine despite the stitches on his forehead and the cast on his leg.  The doctors had reassured him multiple times they were only keeping him overnight as a precaution but Aether still hadn’t been able to shake the fear that was making his chest feel tight.

It was different when it was someone you cared about, someone you loved.  Aether cared for everyone in their town whether he knew them or not but Copia was different.  Copia had quickly become everything to him and when he’d gotten the phone call from the hospital that afternoon it had felt like his entire world was crashing down around him.  Without Secondo there he might not have made it to the hospital.

He dropped his head down onto the bed, taking deep breaths to try and relax.  Copia shouldn’t be here.  He should be at home singing to ABBA in their kitchen or in his office lamenting the essay writing skills of his students.  Aether was never going to forgive himself for not driving him to work that day.  His other hand clenched in the bed sheets and if it wasn’t for the calming hand on his shoulder he probably would have started tearing them up.

“This isn’t your fault.”  Aether shook his head against the bed before sucking a breath in through his teeth and straightening up.  Through the tears in his eyes he saw Secondo standing there, a cup of coffee in his hand.  “Stop blaming yourself.”

“The only reason he was driving was because I locked my damn keys in my car.”

“Something we’ve all done before and something Copia has done many, many times.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that the one day I don’t take him to work this happens.”

“If you’re going to blame anyone you should blame that turista idiota.  Accidents happen.”  Aether didn’t respond so Secondo dropped a hand onto his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  “Especially to my fratellino, as you know.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, thinking back to the first few times he had met Copia.  Both due to the man getting distracted and setting his kitchen on fire.  Satanas, he loved this man so much.  A sob escaped him and he leaned forward again, this time laying his head on Copia’s chest.  Beside him Secondo was a silent sentry, one hand still resting reassuringly on his shoulder as he cried.  Aether stayed that way until he began to feel fingers carding through his hair.

“Aether?”  Copia’s voice was quiet but strong.  When Aether lifted his head Copia’s hand fell from his hair and cupped his cheek instead.  “Stai bene, tesoro?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”  He sniffled and scrubbed a hand over his face, grabbing Copia’s hand in his when he was done.  “How are you doing?”

“Like someone ran a stop sign and destroyed my car.”  Copia tried to sit up but immediately stopped, groaning as the movement jostled his leg.  “And me.”

“Non essere un bambino, fratello.”  Secondo smirked down at his little brother and took a sip of his coffee.  “It’s just a few scratches.”

“Come closer and I’ll give you just a few scratches.” 

“Cumulus has your car at her shop already.  I’m sure it’ll be good as new soon.”  Aether squeezed Copia’s hands, bringing one up so he could place a kiss on the back of it.  “You on the other hand need lots of rest.”

A soft snore was his only answer so Aether let go of one of his hands, gently lowering it onto the bed.  He adjusted Copia’s blankets, smoothing out the wrinkles as best he could.

“If he wakes up again, tell him I will check on his rats.”  Aether looked up at Secondo and nodded, feeling incredibly thankful to have this man as not just his boss but his friend.  The man gave him a stern look but Aether didn’t need to focus on his quintessence to feel the emotion behind it.  “Follow his lead and get some rest.”

He nodded, watching Secondo leave the room and close the door quietly behind him.  Copia was snoring softly, the pain meds thankfully doing their job.  Aether fidgeted in his seat briefly before deciding he didn’t care if anyone got mad at him for what he was about to do.  He let go of Copia’s hand long enough to untie his boots and then climbed onto the bed next to him, taking care to avoid jostling his leg and where Aether knew the bruises were.

When he was settled he took Copia’s hand again, smiling when he felt him squeeze it briefly.  His tail moved on its own accord, wrapping around Copia’s leg and making the man snort in his sleep.  Aether shushed him when his eyes blinked open and he mumbled something in Italian.

“Go back to sleep, love.”

“Mmm, don’t leave.”

“I won’t, I promise.”  Aether kissed Copia’s cheek and then rested his head next to his on the pillow.  “I’ll take care of you forever.”

“Forever, eh?”  Copia yawned then, wincing when it bothered a small bruise on his cheek.  “I like the sound of that.”

He was snoring again shortly after, his head turned slightly towards Aether’s.  The ghoul couldn’t help but kiss the tip of the nose he loved so much before settling down again.

“Me too.”

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

More snippets from this verse are on my masterlist under "Ongoing Series"!

Other Mushy May days: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17

[sorcerous-caress]

👉👈 uhm could you maybe release a snippet of those fics? Please? 🥺

I’ve deleted and rewritten this ask like 5 times because I’ve never in my life requested smut let alone something like… well that.

-The Ex-Lurker

Anon I am very sorry to inform you that these snippest are as real as santa. I never work on more than one or two fics at a time. And even when I do, i immediately post them the second they're finished.

There is no easter bunny, no queen of England and no Shadowheart degradation snippets.

I have requests for Shadowheart degrading people that i plan on posting after I actually write them, which I have not.

Instead, have this piece I've written just for you as an apology for leading you on <3 i will do it again.

Shadowheart degrades you

[ Smut, degradation, overstimulation, nb!reader, Dom!shadowheart ]

The sound of your voice was all you could hear in the room, raw, breathless, and needy. Hearing the desperation in your own moans made you close your eyes in embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" Shadowheart's soft voice came from above you. Her hand went down to caress your head on her lap.

You choked on your own reply, your body squirming and twitching as yet another orgasm was forced out of you. Her hand between your thighs now drenched with your cum.

"Is it too much for your brain? Is that what this is about?" She didn't even give you a moment to rest before hand started moving again, the same brutal pace that she's been forcing onto you for an hour.

"If only you could see how pathetic you look right now." She didn't take her eyes off of your fucked out face on her lap, she seemed to revel in making you feel that burning shame of being watched.

She still had all of her clothes on, not a hair out of place, while you laid naked below her. She didn't even break a sweat while she continuously toyed and abused your most intimate areas into overstimulation.

"Just how many times did you make a mess already, and you're still cumming?" She stopped overstimulating you long enough to give the inside of your thighs a light slap, making your body jump as a loud whine escaped you.

She laughed, she was laughing at you.

Immediately, you felt yourself getting pushed to the edge of another orgasm, so fast too, you were really losing your mind.

"That pretty head of yours will probably be empty by the time I'm done with you." She caressed your head again, "you won't have any other purpose after. You'll be completely useless."

You were so close, you didn't care about your dignity anymore. You just wanted relief.

"Maybe I should invite all of our friends here, give them front row seats to your little show." She let you grind against her hand, cooing and chuckling as you made another mess, covering the insides of your thighs in your own cum.

But she didn't stop, instead, her hand went back to the same brutal pace if not faster.

The pleasure was too intense. It became too much and borderline painful. Your cries were ignored by Shadowheart as you begged and pleaded for a rest.

"A bitch in heat, that's what you are." The hand on your head pulled your hair in a painful grip as she brought your head closer to her face.

Her hand never stopped, you were full on crying from the burning pleasure. You couldn't control yourself, you couldn't control your voice and you couldn't stop from cumming endlessly on her hand. This was your punishment for overindulgence.

Isn't it her job to cleanse people of their sins as a cleric? Then consider this your atonement for being the whore that you are. For all the lust filled thoughts clouding your brain.

"Say, thank you." Her hold tightned on your hair, "thank me for treating you like you deserve to be treated, and I might let go."

Your nerves were on fire. You barely registered your own words as you thanked her as loudly as you can between your cries. Thanking her for giving a dirty pathetic whore like you the chance to repent and get cleansed.

Both hand let go of you, you head was dropped back into her lap.

"Turn around." She looked at you in disgust, "ass up, face down."

[tizniz]

WIP Wednesday 🌙

Tagged by: @theotherbuckley & @diazsdimples (such a little shit with his post)

Happy Valentine's Day to those who celebrate 🩵 and happy Wednesday to those who don't!

SURPRISE! I PICKED UP CUPID!BUCK AND WROTE SOMETHING! I'm determined to work past everything that stopped me from continuing it and am going to keep going. So we'll see what happens.

I'm doing a few snippets (treating y'all for being so nice and because it's V-Day) from what I wrote last night, so there's more under the cut along with tags!

Valentine’s Day sucks. You’d think being a descendant of Cupid, one would be all for the holiday. Not Buck. Buck hates the day. Look, he loves love. Is first in line to admit that he is a supporter of love and will happily help anyone and everyone find their one true love. Has done exactly that with many a people. Has developed a reputation because of it. But Valentine’s Day? Valentine’s Day can go die in a deep, dark pit for all he cares.

...

He absently scratches at his arm as he tries to focus enough to pick out a sauce. But he can’t do that until he picks out a type of pasta. Because Eddie is surprisingly picky about what pasta goes with what sauce, and so Buck staggers his way over to the pasta. Boxed, not fresh, because Eddie is also peculiar about that. It honestly makes Buck love the man more. Except the thought of loving his best friend has a shiver running down Buck’s back unpleasantly; not because of his love for Eddie, but simply because it draws in more love from around him. He feels a bit like he’s suffocating. He’s sweating and shivering at the same time. Everything is blurry around him. There’s a couple at the end of the aisle whispering to each other, their new love pouring off of them and over to Buck, crawling along his skin.

...

As Buck is sat down on the edge of the bed, he realizes something with a frown. There’s nothing coming from the house. There’s no feelings or emotions or anything. Which Buck has learned to adapt to with Eddie, had actually sought it out tonight. But it does mean something, or someone, is missing. “Chris?” “Valentine’s Day dance, remember?” Eddie places some clothing on the bed beside Buck. “You helped him pick out his outfit.” Right. He did. Buck frowns deeper. He doesn’t really remember it though. “You’re really not feeling well, are you?” Eddie mutters, fingers moving through Buck’s hair once more. It eases some of the throbbing in Buck’s head, and he falls forward until his face is planted into Eddie’s stomach, the cotton of his shirt soft against Buck’s itchy skin. This had been the right move. This is where he needed to be. Already he could feel the silence and lack of emotions from Eddie muffling the too loud noise inside of Buck’s body. He really should have listened to his sister and stayed home. Love sickness was a nasty thing.

...

“Good.” Eddie echoes, leaning over to place the glass on the side table. “How you feeling?” Buck wrinkles his nose, eyes falling closed again. “No’ good.” “Get some sleep then.” “Stay?” “I…” Eddie sighs, and then there’s movement before Buck feels a body settle next to his. He shuffles closer until Eddie’s arm winds around him, slotting a leg between Buck’s. “Get some rest, Buck.” “Knew you’d help.” Buck mutters, feeling himself drift off. But it wasn’t spinning and scary like before, in the store. No, here, he feels safe and secure, on steady feet. “Always help…”

NP tagging: @daffi-990, @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove, @jesuisici33, @cal-daisies-and-briars, @exhuastedpigeon, @bucksbackwardcap, @disasterbuckdiaz, @hippolotamus, @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming, @monsterrae1, @actualalligator, @epicbuddieficrecs, @elvensorceress, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @spotsandsocks, @spagheddiediaz, @fortheloveofbuddie, @wildlife4life, @evanbegins, @devirnis, @buckaroosheart, @perfectlysunny02, @nmcggg, and anyone else who needs a tag :)

Let me know if you want to be added or removed.

[cha-melodius]

Fic Pride Weekend

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

@kiwiana-writes tagged me for "Fic Pride Friday" but let's face it, no one is actually doing this on a Friday anymore and Fic Pride should go the whole weekend.

So I decided to try to give some superlatives—my favorite action sequence, my favorite kiss, my favorite love confession, my favorite comedy moment, etc etc. But the problem was I came up with a LOT of superlatives! Oh well. A few up top, and the rest below the cut. Oh, and there are some spoilers below, so be warned!

Favorite Shouted Love Confession: Love is a Losing Game

“Then what, Illya?” Napoleon demands sharply, frustration heating his face. “What exactly was the problem?” “I love you, Napoleon!” Illya nearly shouts, the words ringing loudly in quiet of the club, and the silence that follows is only broken by Illya’s ragged breaths as Napoleon stares at him in shock. Illya closes his eyes, as if trying to steady himself, and when he opens them again the raw vulnerability in them is startling. “I love you,” he says again, with something like resignation in his voice, “and when they told me you quit I thought I would never see you again, and— and that was not something I could bear.”

Favorite Action Sequence (Duo): This Hell of a Season

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the headlamp rapidly approaching. He’s not sure if it will be fast enough. Henry watches as the dark shape of the man, little more than a shadow under the meagre moonlight, shifts slightly out from behind the hedges again. A few more shots, fired near where the shadow lurks, buys Henry some time, but Alex’s approach feels impossibly slow, as if he were travelling through treacle. One heartbeat passes. Two. Three. Four. The motorbike gets close enough to bathe Henry in a wash of yellow-tinted light; he’s now far too tempting a target, and the man shifts out from behind his cover again. Alex nearly puts the bike on its side as he skids into a stop, cutting the lamp at the last minute and plunging them into darkness. “Here!” he yells, and Henry flings himself in his direction, nearly blind after the brightness of the headlamp.

Favorite Action Sequence (Solo): A Good Man is Hard to Find

Pulling a rope off his belt, Mobius ties it securely around the empty window frame then measures out what he guesses is the right length before attaching the other end to his belt again. On the other side of the table, the guards have stopped firing, but he has no doubt they’ll be advancing on him now that they’ve realized that he’s not shooting back. He’ll need to stand up to be able to jump out far enough, which unfortunately means making an easy target of himself for at least a few seconds. He peeks around the table and sends a couple of bullets toward their feet, which succeeds in making them scatter and retreat backwards. Then, holding onto the window frame for support, Mobius takes a deep, steadying breath and rises to his feet. In the second before he jumps, the guards start shooting at him again and a bullet tears through the outside of his upper arm, but he barely feels it past the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He launches himself out as far as he can until he feels the rope snap tight at his belt, punching the breath out of his body. The line starts swinging him in an arc down toward the window, and he twists wildly as he tries desperately to orient himself in the air. Just before he smashes into the huge sheet of plate glass, he manages to fire twice into it and, in a rain of glass, crashes back into the building two floors down. The shouts of the guards are audible from above, as is the sound of running feet; no doubt they’re already heading back down the stairs. Mobius scrambles up and over toward the delivery entrance where he and Sylvie first came in, smearing the blood that’s dripping down his arm along the floor and doorway in a trail. Satisfied at the feint, he takes off toward the utility room and gets through the door, closing it carefully behind him.

Favorite Car Chase: The Hardest Cut (continues from here, hard to put the whole thing in!)

They turn again, away from the courthouse, and Mobius can unmistakably feel the horrible cocktail of adrenaline and dread that floods into his veins. Loki doesn’t answer his question, but his hands tighten on the steering wheel as he stares fixedly out the windshield, knuckles going painfully white. “You’re starting to worry me, you know,” Mobius says with a nervous chuckle, like it’s a joke. “Little heads up on what we’re doing would be great right about now.” Finally, Loki glances sideways at him—once, twice, then a third, lingering look—then he takes a deep, shuddery breath like he’s coming to a decision. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he swears emphatically, then jerks the wheel hard to the right, sending them fishtailing into a wild skid and down an alley that looks entirely too narrow. “I can’t do this. I can’t.”

Favorite Moment of Slapstick Comedy: The Makings of a Perfect Christmastime

Waverly, on the other hand, looks surprisingly unperturbed. “Oh, I know,” he says, incredibly. “Because what it looks like is that my war hero is playing home-wrecker to my star author’s marriage.” He looks pointedly at Illya, who’s mouth opens wordlessly as he flushes a deep scarlet, before his gaze slide back to Napoleon. “But that’s not actually what’s happening here, is it?” Napoleon’s mind is whirring as he tries desperately to figure out what the hell is going on, but before he can think of anything that might offer some kind of reasonable explanation, the door to the kitchen opens again. “I’m hoping that the fact that you didn’t come back to the room means you were getting laid and not in here cooking all night,” Gaby says as she comes in, so focused on the coffee that she doesn’t even see Waverly standing off to the side. For a moment, no one moves, until she turns with a mug of coffee in her hand, spots Waverly, and proceeds to drop it on the floor.

Favorite Wrestling Scene: Double Dutch with a Hand Grenade

Two can play, and all that, and he is not having this conversation on his back. Not when Illya has been seemingly holding all the cards to this point. He cants his hips under Illya—slowly, deliberately—and is gratified when his partner’s eyes go wide. More importantly, the distraction makes his grip on Napoleon’s wrists loosen. Napoleon yanks his hands down, out of Illya’s hold, then slams the heel of his palm hard into his sternum. Illya grunts in pain and surprise, shoulders curling inward, which gives Napoleon enough of an opening to grab the front of his t-shirt and roll them both sideways until Illya’s back thunks hard against the mat. It’s Illya’s turn to glare up at him, still grimacing. Napoleon has effectively reversed their positions, pinning Illya’s wrists to the mat over his head, though he hasn’t managed to secure his lower body. Instead, Illya’s legs are wrapped around his waist, preventing him from maneuvering or getting any better leverage for a subsequent attack. Of course, that also means Illya’s legs are wrapped around his waist, which is something he’d been valiantly trying not to imagine ever since that encounter at the café. So much for that. Neither of them is completely in control of this situation, and it’s rapidly starting to seem like that’s true in more ways than one.

Favorite Emotional "Confession": Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood

“Yeah, I mean, it hurts,” he says with a nonchalant shrug he’s pretty sure doesn’t land. He wants to ask, ‘what makes me different? why are you friends with everyone but me?’, but that would give up the game for sure. Instead, he aims for something close. “Sometimes it feels like you’re more distant with me than with other people at the office.” “You’re right,” Henry replies with shocking matter-of-factness. “Casual friends are easy, Alex. There’s no risk when you don’t want anything more from someone than the ability to hold a five minute conversation over coffee in the break room. It’s different when it’s… someone you might truly care about. You’re different.” Alex doesn’t really know what to do with that. It’s quickly becoming difficult to tell where the lies end and the truth begins. “Oh,” he says, floundering a little. “I guess I can see that.”

Favorite Flirty Email: Class(room) Warfare

To: Alexander Claremont-Diaz <claremontdiaz@mcquiston.edu> From: Henry Fox-Mountchristen <foxmountchristen@mcquiston.edu> Subject: Re: your shirts Dr. Acerbic Cocky-Disaster I am quite certain you’ve never given anyone a break in your life. Regretfully, Henry Assistant Professor of What Did I Do To Deserve This

Favorite Seductive Spoon-licking (yes, I have more than one): All the Old Showstoppers

Locating a clean tasting spoon, he scoops a bit of the buttercream out of his mixer and holds it out to Alex across the top of his station. Their fingers brush when Alex reaches out to take it, and an image of Alex holding a very similar spoon up to his lips flashes through Henry’s mind. His mouth goes slightly dry at the memory, and that’s before Alex proceeds to stick the spoon deep into his mouth and draw it slowly out between his lips. Alex’s low hum, which skirts dangerously close to a moan, is somehow audible over the buzz of activity in the tent, and his eyelids flutter slightly as his pink tongue slips out to lick the back of the spoon in a manner that is far too seductive for their current setting. Who could have guessed that giving Alex a spoon would be such a massive mistake? Because Henry can see a camera currently filming them out of the corner of his eye, but he still can’t seem to force his own bloody mouth closed, nor can he hope to control the flush that is no doubt painting his cheeks a rather lurid pink, if he knows himself. The best he can hope for is that he just looks stunned rather than incredibly turned on by the display before him. “Ok, yeah, that’s good,” Alex says, snapping him out of the daze he finds himself in. He grins, and the mischief sparkling in his eyes is enough to make Henry believe he did that on purpose. “Guess you’re gonna make things hard for me, huh Wales?”

Favorite Movie Adaptation Moment: False Dichotomy

“Sometimes I wonder,” Alex says, staring up at the leaves fluttering in the breeze over the sidewalk. “If you hadn’t been Mountchristen, and I hadn’t been Under the Rainbow Books…” “Alex,” Henry breathes, a little unsteadily. Alex keeps going because he is, as previously established, an idiot. He can’t quite bring himself to look at Henry, though. “Maybe I’d have gotten up the courage to ask for your number.” “I’d have asked for yours,” Henry says firmly, surprising him. That does make Alex turn back toward him again. “That first day in the shop. Wouldn’t have been able to wait even twenty-four hours before asking you out to dinner.” “We’d never have been at war,” Alex continues. “The only thing we’d fight about is what to watch on Saturday night.” “Only because you have terrible taste in Star Wars movies,” Henry teases.

Favorite Angsty Kiss: So Close to Something Better Left Unknown

Alex hesitates a moment too long for it not to be an answer. Henry’s eyes are dark and wild with primal desire and something else, something more terrifying than even that, and Alex murmurs, “It doesn’t matter.” “Alex—” Alex turns in his arms and drags him into a kiss that catches like dry tinder, lighting such an inferno under his skin that Alex feels like he’s the one who’s been drugged. This is a fucking mistake, he thinks desperately, then his mind goes blissfully blank as Henry’s tongue slides into his mouth. It’s rough, demanding, as much as sparring match as a kiss, particularly when Henry sinks a hand into his hair and tugs hard, then bites down on Alex’s lower lip when he gasps as stars burst in his vision. Alex gives as good as he gets, though, finally getting his teeth on those sinful fucking lips and swallowing Henry’s answering moans.

Favorite Almost Kiss: White Knuckles

When he comes out of his last spin, Napoleon joins him for the final movements, an expansive trip across the ice that usually ends with Illya hunched over, almost on one knee, as if clutching an apparently dead Juliet. Now, though, there is an actual body in his grasp: Napoleon is underneath him, back bent into a graceful arc, being held off the ice only by Illya’s grip on his hip and his palm splayed between his shoulder blades. As the music comes to its grand conclusion he meets Napoleon’s eyes, and suddenly Napoleon doesn’t seem so unaffected anymore. He’s certainly breathless, all right, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted, and it would be so easy for Illya to flex his arms and draw him upward until their lips meet. Illya considers it a true testament to his self control that he doesn’t do it. “Wow,” Napoleon breathes, after a long moment in which he has made no move to disentangle himself from Illya. Then one corner of his mouth quirks upward into a smirk. “Now that’s more like it.” It is also a testament to Illya’s self control that he doesn’t drop him on the ice.

Favorite Cliffhanger: Nova, Baby

A couple of officers with red crosses on their helmets hurry forward as Raf grabs Alex’s arm and tries to pull him to the side. Somewhere deep inside, Alex knows that he has to let go, that Henry’s only hope is the medical team. The panic choking him has fully taken over now, though, and he only clutches Henry more tightly to his chest. “N-no, Raf, please,” he pleads. “You have to let go of him, kid.” “No, no, I can’t, I can’t—“ “Alex! Look at me!” Raf commands sharply. The order catches Alex full in the chest and he responds instinctively, his gaze snapping up to meet dark, worried eyes. A face much like his own, but lined and careworn after years at the agency. A face that has seen more than its share of hopeless situations. A face that is telling Alex, now, to trust him. “You have to,” Raf says again, his voice gentle but firm. Alex lets go.

Favorite First Meeting: Cold Light

“That doesn’t sound good,” the man replies as he straightens up again. Whatever he was doing he seems to be done with, even though he hasn’t touched a thing. He stares up at the sky for a moment, as if lost in thought; in the silence that follows, Mobius watches ribbons of what’s shaping up to be a rather spectacular display of the aurora borealis begin winding their way across the night’s sky behind him. “So? What do you think?” “Hm?” “About the engine.” “Oh, I don’t actually know anything about engines.” Mobius stares at him for a beat in disbelief. “Then why’d you want to see it?” The man shrugs, a vaguely amused expression playing on his features. “Seemed like a thing one does when your vehicle breaks down.”

Favorite Outsider Perspective: That's What Other People Do

“You know me so well, Peril,” Solo says to him before taking a huge bite. He briefly looks, somewhat bizarrely, like a chipmunk. “I know you are somehow always hungry,” Kuryakin returns. “And you get as excited about greasy diner food as gourmet restaurant.” Solo swallows and grins broadly. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than greasy diner food. If I’m gonna have to go to Jersey for this mission, I might as well indulge. Gimme some of your milkshake, would you?” Kuryakin lets out a put-upon sigh, but his mouth is unmistakably tugging up at the corners as he slides the half empty glass over toward his partner. Robin chews slowly as she watches them continue to banter about the food as if she wasn’t there at all. Kuryakin stretches an arm out along the back of the booth behind Solo’s shoulders, and when Solo finally polishes off the burger he settles back against it, almost but not quite tucked against Kuryakin’s side, looking immensely satisfied.

Favorite Angsty Confrontation: Little by Little

“How many have there been?” Napoleon whispers. Suddenly his proximity is unbearable. Close enough that Illya could lean in and kiss him in an instant, and wouldn’t that just be the perfect cap on all of this misery? He can almost imagine the slide of his lips and the heat of his mouth for a moment before the fantasy threatens to choke him. Illya drops his arm and turns away, striding across the room as he scrubs his hands over his face. “I don’t know,” he says into his palms, and it’s nearly inaudible to even him so he knows Napoleon did not hear the answer. “How many, Peril? I mean are we talking a one or two, or a handful, or—” “I don’t know!” Illya bellows, wheeling back toward him. 

Tagging @orchidscript, @historicallysam, @leaves-of-laurelin, @tintagel-or-cockleshells, @three-drink-amy

@loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @nicijones, @justabigoldnerd, @magicandarchery, @14carrotghoul

@mirilyawrites, @eusuntgratie, @cactusdragon517, @violetbaudelaire-quagmire, @magicandarchery

@myheartalivewrites

So that's the number of snippets I posted, but PLEASE if you see this and want to do it, jump in!! Be proud of your fics!

[anincompletelist]

fic pride friday! :D

thank you @kiwiana-writes for the tag! this is by far my favorite tag game, not only to get to see everyone else's bits that they're most proud of but also to check in with my own writing versus the LAST time I did this challenge and what's changed. thank you thank you! it's always a pleasure to read your words <3

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

Tags: I CANNOT STRESS HOW !OPEN TAG! THIS IS BUT ALSO: @wordsofhoneydew @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @msmarvelouswinchester @nocoastposts

@firenati0n @daisymae-12 @read-and-write- @magicandarchery

@affectionatelyrs @happiness-of-the-pursuit @inexplicablymine @heysweetheart-writes

@littlemisskittentoes @sparklepocalypse @getmehighonmagic @firstsprinces

@priincebutt @cricketnationrise @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead

@whimsymanaged @anchoredarchangel @captainjunglegym @thinkof-england

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from How To Get Blood Stains Out of Your Linen (And Other Ways To Fall in Love):

Henry doesn’t wonder. He mourns. He grieves for things that haven’t even happened yet, for the happiness that he assumes he might’ve had if he’d been brave enough to reach out and grab it with his shaking, stained hands.

+

from somehow I'd get by:

They start with dinner. Watching Alex cook for him has always been somewhat of a spiritual experience but tonight, perched on the countertop with Alex between his legs, feeding him a taste of each and every ingredient, like he’s hardwired to want Henry to be a part of his routines and his hobbies and his life, it feels like even more.   The first few buttons of Henry’s shirt have been undone, the heat from the stove beside them making his skin pleasantly warm. Alex’s own sleeves have been rolled up to his forearms, his tie long gone somewhere by the front door, both of their shoes with it. Henry tucks a socked foot around his calf and draws him in even closer, stealing a kiss that tastes like Saffron and the wine from the Spanish market downtown, the wooden spoon forgotten between them.  It’s curious how the day just seems to tumble on, the eve ning elongated as if the minutes have doubled themselves. Somehow it still isn’t enough time with Alex, and Henry finds himself surprised once more at how he physically misses him, even when he’s close enough to reach out and touch. He’s oddly aware of the space between his rib cage, the gaps and vessels surrounding the marrow, an emptiness he’d never cared to notice before. Behind them though, his heart is wonderfully full.  As if he knows the feeling, Alex never strays too far from him. Not when they finish up the food and move to the dining table to eat, not when he tugs Henry so close he’s practically on his lap, feeding him by hand and then with his own set of cutlery, sharing the same plate. The vacancies fill up with the food, wine, and Alex’s sweet words, piece by piece, a lifetime of inadequacy replaced with love instead.

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from Something Borrowed, Something Blue:

(I had to try to find a non-spoilery one jsdhkjhfk)

“It’s the southern charm,” Alex argues, still a bit in shock. “It’s irresistible.”  “It’s you,” Henry corrects him softly. “And I wouldn’t trade out a single thing about you. Your honesty or your energy or your words.”  “But your words are important. You always think through everything you say before you say it. And mine just— just come out like David’s vomit.” Henry laughs quietly beside him. “And sometimes I can tell that I should stop but I just keep going.”   “That doesn’t make your words any less important,” Henry says. “You know how to speak your mind. There’s a lot of people that don’t. It doesn’t make you too much or annoying. If anything, it means that you’re brave.”  Alex snorts lightly. “If I’m brave, then what are you?” He glances sideways at Henry. “Untouchable?”  “Terrified.”  The breath Alex had been halfway through taking halts in his lungs. Henry’s eyes are wide and so blue underneath the moonlight, a shade Alex hasn’t seen them yet before. He rushes to take it all in, committing the look to memory— Henry here, in his space, trying to speak a language Alex understands. 

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from treading water in the deep, just waiting for the tides to meet:

Alex writes about forgiveness a lot, especially on the days when he mourns for the once clean, normal mark he used to have. Sometimes he thinks about how simple things could have been. The fairytale story that he’d wanted so badly as a kid, had prayed for beside his bed at night and wished for with every shooting star that passed overhead.  But with every stroke of the pencil on the page his eyes fall to the skin just above where he’s holding it, the intricate pattern of the scarring tha t Alex knows he could draw accurately even in his sleep. He’s memorized it with his fingertips, with his eyes, with his lips. It’s a part of his person, so it’s a part of him, too.  And Alex has never been particularly good at self love, always moving too quickly and trying to make his family and friends proud, thoughtlessly making sacrifices at his own expense if it meant that some of the burden was taken off of someone else. By the same token, he’s always given love freely.  It comes as no surprise to him when he first says it, whispered against the gap in the line, right next to the jagged edge of where one end of the line has broken through his skin. He writes it in the notebooks, thinks it in his head: I love you.  Two years passes and with every day, Alex realizes he loves himself a little more too. 

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from there were pages turned with the bridges burned (everything you lose is a step you take):

Back in his room, he locks the door behind him and walks over to his desk, everything mostly left untouched from before he’d gone to the hospital. He hasn’t been able to go through it yet, to see the evidence that he was healthy and capable of excelling at things that, at least right now, he couldn’t dream of doing. Not at the same level, anyway.  Blinking harshly, he takes his lower lip into his mouth and finds the list of resolutions he’d pinned to his corkboard above it, not one of them marked off yet. There’s no way he could have predicted what this year would have brought.  Gently, he takes the thumbtacks out of their spots at the corners and folds up the paper, slipping it into a drawer. Then he retrieves the packet of skittles and pins them up in its place.  One day at a time, Alex thinks. 

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from I want you to have me like I've never been had, you get all my wild parts:

Gently, Henry presses forward into him again, lets himself appreciate the way it feels when he’s not busy chasing his own release. Alex sighs sweetly and widens his legs a bit, his fingers still achingly soft, dancing across Henry’s shoulder blade.  It really, really shouldn’t be this easy. Not the dynamic, but— Alex.   Henry stares at him, most likely cross-eyed for how close he is but uncaring at the moment, tracing a fingertip through Alex’s drying curls, down the slope of his nose, his top lip, the smile line carved into his cheek. Marvels at the way Alex lets him.  He wants to bathe in it. Wants to keep it locked up just as much as he wants to show it off. Wants to care for it—care for him, wants to round up anyone who’s ever had the pleasure of seeing Alex this way and rip the memory from their greedy, ungrateful, undeserving hands.  Keep it for himself instead, where it’s beginning to feel like it belongs. 

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from avalanche:

“Love is patient, love is kind,” Alex murmurs, the scripture replaying clearly in his head— el amor es paciente, es bondadoso. His grandmother's words, then his father’s, now his own, translating them from the way he learned them so that Henry can understand. He presses his lips to Henry’s jaw, solidifies them there. “It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.” El amor no es envidioso ni presumido ni orgulloso. He slides a hand over the little scar on Henry’s shoulder, touches it tenderly with his fingertips, only a fraction of the pain he’s endured. “It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” Henry’s tears wet his cheek when he emphasizes them here; no se comporta con rudeza, no es egoísta, no se enoja fácilmente, no guarda rencor. “Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.” El amor no se deleita en la maldad, sino que se regocija con la verdad. “It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” Todo lo disculpa, todo lo cree, todo lo espera, todo lo soporta. Reaching down to fill in the gaps between Henry’s fingers with his own, Alex pulls back enough to look at him properly. Henry’s always kind of taken his breath away, but Alex can see the shift happening in real time— how every word, each passing minute that he spends here, finally where he wants to be, is recharging him. And how much of a marvel is it that where he wants to be is with Alex?  Henry leaving had felt like an ending at first. The conclusion of a year long fever dream in which all of his own fears and desires had been finally recognized and tested to their limits. No matter what Henry had chosen to do in the end, he’d changed Alex for the better. The proof was all there, written in fine print for the world to see. Alex would have been okay, eventually, just knowing that.  But now he can see that it hadn’t been an ending at all. All of the cracks in Henry’s shiny, practiced, impenetrable exterior are crumbling; shattered first with Henry’s valiant initial swing, the excess gently peeled away with Alex’s fingertips. It’s visible now, everywhere that he’d left his mark on Henry. Everywhere that he’d poured just as much into him as Henry had into Alex.  He’s always been capable. But Alex knows, just as much as Henry hopefully does now, that sometimes it’s difficult to get past the litany of weaknesses until someone finally comes along and recognizes them for strengths instead.  “El amor jamás se extingue,” he whispers against Henry’s knuckles, his own eyes blurry. “I forgave you a long time ago, amor.”  

+

from it's so hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands:

Henry leans forward to set it aside before he seals himself further into George’s side, an arm propped behind his back as he strokes his knuckles over Alex’s cheek. George turns away to allow them a moment to themselves, but it doesn’t rid him of the intimacy of it all from his position right in the center of it, especially as Alex moves closer, his own fingers dropping to move some of the hair from George’s forehead where it’d fallen haphazardly into his eyes.  It takes George even longer to find his voice again, nothing but a rasp when he summons the courage to insert himself into their familiar back and forth.  “Why are you doing this?”  Henry halts whatever he’d been about to say, dropping his gaze down to George in between them. “We take care of each other,” he says.  “Hen has a lot of days like this too,” Alex adds from his other side, his thumb stroking soothingly over George’s brow. “We’re glad you came, George.”  His mother would have a fit if she could see him now, taking comfort he isn’t owed from men he shouldn’t want it from. But Henry wipes his tears with the back of his hand and Alex begins singing the dulcet tune of a Spanish lullaby and George feels, perhaps for the first time in his life, like he belongs. 

+

xx

[thelamb1429]

Soul Train

Eyeless Jack x GN! Reader

<3

This is part of a larger series i’m working on. For now i’m just gonna post lil snippets of the fanfic just to sort of get a feel for how i want the story to go.

This is also probably poorly written/has a lot of grammatical errors because i’m currently pretty sick right now so i’m writing with a scrambled brain atm. I’ll be back to spruce things up when i feel better!

STORY INFO/WARNINGS

Reader is gender neutral

This isn’t necessarily a oneshot, but i don’t know if i plan on posting chapters here on Tumblr when I should probably just post the whole story on another platform so that my art isn’t drowning under tons of stories lol

This part includes: Mentions of death, mentions of death regarding a parent, descriptions of panic, slight mentions of murder

Every single last ounce of oxygen seemed to be sucked from your burning lungs at full force, leaving you on your knees, coughing and retching while the silent vehicle raced down the tracks. Car after car flew over the metal just a few feet from where you knelt. The moment you could breathe enough for your vision to fade back in and your ears to slowly stop ringing, all you could see as far as your eyes traced down the railroad tracks was a never ending train. You sat there for about a minute, but it seemed like the train wasn’t ever going to end.

Nina looped an arm under yours to help you back onto your feet, and you were so out of it that you couldn’t even feel the pointy accessories on her arms and hands poke into your skin. Despite the train in front of you both not emitting a deafening whistle, the rustle of metal on metal was enough to block out any words she tried to get into your head. Everything in front of you moved in slow motion as the weight of the situation set in.

Jack was probably dead now.

You could have saved him.

He probably died thinking that you would get there in time to help.

Once again you went limp in your best friend’s arms, to which she stumbled and struggled to catch your weakened body. Nina eased the both of you onto the grass as the train finally passed and the red glare of the warning lights went dark. Her eyes looked past the tracks onto the dirt road beyond, as if to try and manifest the best case scenario. She wasn’t an optimist by any means, but she knew how much Jack meant to you. You two had been friends for years now, long before you went off to college. While the decked out girl holding onto you had never even met the guy, she felt a cold chill eat away at her spine as it rushed through her nerves, making the rapidly beating heart in her chest speed up with the anxiety caused by the both of you panicking.

But she'd known death much closer than you had. You had lost many loved ones, but her little hobby brought her up close and personal with it several times a week. For once, Nina felt a determination to lead that didn't scare her off. Calling the shots wasn't something that she liked to take charge of, but this was the perfect moment for her to take the lead, to do something helpful for you. She didn't have many friends, especially none that could understand her and handle her like you did.

Maybe helping you get to Jack could help you both strengthen the bond that was weakened by the argument from the week prior to the crisis at hand.

Determined to help, Nina once again hoisted you up and looked you in the eyes.

"[Name], I know that right now you're pissed at me. And I lied to you, I deserve your anger right now. But if we have any chance of getting into that forest and saving Jack, we have to get up and do it now. That cult— or whatever the hell they are— they're dangerous and Jack has no clue.

You love him, right? Then we need to get to him and get him back into your arms, safe and sound.

So take a deep breath and get up already! I can't find him on my own. I don't even know what he looks like!"

Nina pulled at your arms, groaning with the force of exertion she put out as you seemed to stay in place, frozen from the terror of losing the only man who you'd ever considered to have a shred of humanity in him. The only man who befriended you with no ulterior motives. The only man you knew who treated you as an equal.

You weren't gonna lose him. You had to stop mourning for a death you couldn't even confirm.

Much to your best friend's relief, you started running off past the cleared tracks, leading the way towards the countryside where the forest began. Cold, bitter air nipped at both of your bodies and filled your lungs, causing your throats to ache with the icy chill that seeped into you both as you inhaled air.

Contrary to popular belief, Nina was not good at running! She was used to cornering her victims in locations that allowed for her to easily escape and march back to her hidden little cabin in the woods at a leisurely pace. When she wanted to run, she ran pretty fast, but it was obvious that she wasn't used to running for so long. Since she was trying her best to help, you attempted to slow down just a bit so that she could catch up.

After five minutes of running down the road, Nina had to stop to breathe. She gasped for air as he chest heaved, trying to get more oxygen into her burning lungs. She looked up at you, taking in the panic evident on your face when she collapsed. Her mascara ran down her face just a little when her eyes watered from the excessive running.

"Go— you..you need to find him. I'll catch up, just go", she wheezed out as a cough wracked through her body.

The encouragement was all you needed to take off running once again.

Maybe it was the adrenaline in your body that kept you going, masking the ache in your chest and your legs from the constant sprinting you were doing. Maybe it was the fear that if you didn't suck it up and run, that it would be too late. Whatever it was, it caused you to keep running so fast that it felt as if you were gliding through the forest around you.

You had no idea where exactly he was. In fact, you were going in blind. But there was something deep within the core of your very being that seemed to yank you in one direction before leading you towards another.

All you could do was repeat a silent prayer that you hadn't said in years. Not since your mom died.

All you could do was pray to whatever higher being that could exist to let Jack still be alive when you find him.

Credits for the dividers i used go to poicelain and kgymz!! <3

[rodolfoparras]

Hello friends!

Since a lot of you seem to like my and my anonie’s spitballs and have even requested for me to continue on some of them, I thought I should explain how it works so we’re all on the same page

First of all what exactly are spitballs? It’s where you suggest ideas to be discussed without thinking about them carefully.

In this case that would mean that I discuss different type of tropes and aus with my anonies without thinking much about them in terms of plot holes, ooc moments, grammar, length etc

It all started because I had many different ideas for fics but then things, like those mentioned above would hold me back from writing them, thus I’d write them out in alternative ways such as in the tag section instead, sometimes I’d discuss an idea with my mutuals and sometimes I’d post it on my blog and get a reply from an anon and we’d spitball it from there

It has unintentionally become a very interactive part of my blog and my writing process and I love it very much.

However I think it’s important I make it clear that not every ask will result in a fic snippet such as this, sometimes a response can very much look like this, or even like this

As mentioned earlier they’re very much ideas that are discussed therefor the responses may vary.

For me it’s important to feel that I can reply with a fic snippet or with a silly pic or whatever it may be because if I can’t, then it’s just another variation of fic requests.

Now to the nitty gritty part; how does this work?

It’s very simple. If you see me on the dash talking about my latest brainrot and want to discuss it with me, you’re more than welcome to slide into my inbox!

Now you may be wondering: If a spitball has turned into a mini fic how do I know when it has run its course?

Good question! First of all you’re always welcome to slide into my inbox to talk with me about them but at some point I’ll stop being in the writing zone and cannot for the life of me get down a word on paper despite your lovely ideas and suggestions. I’ll usually tell you when it’s finished either in the tag section or in the a/n section!

With that being said I want to thank you for taking the time to read this, for showing sm appreciation for my fics and you’re always welcome to message me!

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

This or That Gothic Edition Snippet 19- Imprisoned Monster

Inspired by my answers for this post by @blackrosesandwhump!  

Whumpee crept through the castle halls, holding their lantern in front of them. The storm raged outside, sending sheets of rain down onto the washed-out roads. Whumpee didn’t feel like being drenched, so they thought they would ask the castle’s owner for shelter. The more they explored, however, it became evident that the castle had been abandoned for years. The windows had a hazy film covering them, and the thick layer of dust laying in the carpet absorbed any sound that Whumpee’s footsteps would have made. Unused cobwebs adorned the corners of furniture and light fixtures; even the spiders had forsaken the place.

“Hello?” Whumpee called for a third time.

No answer greeted Whumpee, save for their own echo. They shivered as a draft blew through the castle halls. Eventually, they reached a large, oak door. Pushing it open, Whumpee was greeted by something that surely belonged in a mausoleum. A coffin of marble, sitting in the center of an otherwise empty room. Heavy chains of silver held the lid down. The floor was made of cold stone, and it made a clicking noise as Whumpee walked across it. Oh mercy, had they stumbled on a dead person’s home?

Whumpee was just about to back away when they heard it: a weak yet distinct pounding. It was coming from the coffin. Everything in them told them to run, but Whumpee found themselves stepping closer all the same. Whumpee blinked, and the next thing they knew they had removed the chains.

The lid slid off of the coffin with a deafening sound of stone scraping against stone. Whumpee jumped back with a yelp. Slowly, a figure sat up inside the coffin. Their head turned, and red eyes stared into Whumpee’s.

“Do I have you to thank for my freedom?” the figure asked, their voice sounding like it hadn’t been used in years.

Whumpee nodded, rooted to the spot.

The figure climbed out of the coffin soundlessly; they seemed to glide as they strode over to Whumpee.

“What should I call you?” the figure asked.

“Wh-” Whumpee swallowed, “Whumpee.”

“Hm,” the figure mused, “it’s fitting. My name is Whumper. Welcome to my castle. I would have greeted you upon entry, but as you can see I was otherwise detained. Thank you, Whumpee, for releasing me.”

“Um, s-sure. Anytime.”

“It’s unfortunate that after you’ve given me my freedom, you must lose yours, but I haven’t had anyone to talk to for many years, and I daresay I am in need of a companion.”

Whumpee blinked, it took them a minute to process what Whumper was saying. Before they could turn to run, Whumper had sank their fangs- they had fangs!?- into their neck. Whumpee wanted to struggle, but Whumper held them tight. They began to lose the ability to stand as Whumper drained them of their blood.

“S-stop,” Whumpee breathed, “please.”

Whumper continued to drink for a few moments more, then detached their fangs from their victim’s neck.

“There there,” Whumper soothed, “forgive me, but I haven’t had a meal in so long. Come now, let’s get you to your room.”

The world tilted on its axis as Whumper lifted Whumpee into a bridal carry. The storm continued to rage outside as Whumper carried them down the halls to a large bedroom. Whumpee was limp in their hold. Whumper laid them down ever so gently on a bed. Even though they were lying still, Whumpee’s world spun. Soon enough, dark spots clouded their vision and their eyes fluttered shut. They couldn’t see Whumper smile down at them, nor feel them run a slender hand through their hair.

Whumper smiled at their little human. They looked so peaceful like this. What a wonderful companion they would make.

ko-fi

tags:  @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm

[optiwashere]

WIP Wednesday

Holy shit, it's actually on a Wednesday this time?

I really wanted to do one of these this week since I've gone a bit rabid on a few WIPs.

I'll post a little bit about each of those WIPs later, some snippets and a blurb about why I'm so excited. But first! Folks to tag! Since I'm so excited for these, I'm gonna tag a lot this time.

If you have anything you want to share WIP writing-wise, please do... @quitefair @bottombatch @siyurikspakvariisis @causticcontemplation @jasminethetransvampire @underworldobsessed @assarivanguard @amorficzna @funwithnix @askweisswolf @linka-from-captain-planet @tief4tief

If you don't want to do this, or have nothing you want to share, feel free to ignore. If anyone else wants to do this, please feel free to consider yourself tagged. Now, onto my obsessions.

WIP 1: New chapter of Nightsongs

After spending some chapters in a kind of angst zone after the relatively light (relatively) first 4-5 chapters, this next chapter is going to be a kind of upswing. There's lots left to do with the AU, so I'm expecting to chug along and write more and more as time permits.

This AU is a lot for me to handle, especially after having so many chapters ready to post and then... falling way behind on writing the chapters afterwards. But it's fanfiction, and we're having fun here. So, who cares? The game's fandom heyday is already over, so at this point I'm just writing whatever feels best to me.

This chapter is mostly done, I think. I'm giving it a few days/a week to sit before I go back to edit it with fresher eyes. Also, we return to Ash's POV!

Lae’zel walked into Ash’s back office without a word on the seventh day and Ash nodded her way without looking up. Papers sat in strewn piles all over the desk, a handful of old incident reports and assessments that still needed working for Wulbren’s accountants. The absolute worst part of the job remained for the year – paperwork – and Ash intended to get them caught up in the hours that remained of her day. It was a useful, meaningful task. It gave her something else to think about. Anything other than green eyes. “We should talk,” Lae’zel said, sitting down without being offered one of the folding chairs in front of the desk. “Aren’t we doing that?” Ash scanned the paper in front of her and quickly jotted down her signature. [...] “You begin working on a van,” Lae’zel said matter-of-factly, counting off on her fingers as she spoke. “You talk to a pretty girl. You suddenly work more often on that van. Then, you disappear inside yourself and act bitter all day because suddenly the girl no longer shows up. There is more to it than you say.” “I think this might be the first time you’ve spoken more than five words to me, you know that?” Ash chuckled. “Am I that obvious?”

WIP 2: New chapter of Blades in the Night

The need to write more plot for this has been burrowing in my skull for a long time. I initially stopped myself from writing too much of it because I wanted to do Nightsongs first in its entirety before getting to this, but I think I'm just too impatient for that.

I also love the fact that this fic turned from a simple PWP one-shot into this much more expansive, plotty story that's now pretty important for what I want to do with my babies post-canon. Something about that makes me smile.

Plus, you know how I've been lamenting my inability to write happy endings for certain characters?

Either way, this isn't really complete, but the hardest part is complete and now I just have to start connecting the dots and filling in the blanks. I'd say it's about a third done?

The room filled with the same aura of a distant gaze leveled their way that Shadowheart had felt back in the cloister. Asheera had made an oath to protect Shadowheart then, and the flooding of a dense, real presence had nearly swallowed her whole in the cloister's barracks. A weight of importance sunk down on her shoulders there in Hobb's Hovel as well. A smell like molten metal cooling lilted in the air with a lingering, acrid tang. It tasted of blood in Shadowheart's mouth, as if the forging was tainted with some other foul presence in the mixture. [...] Little could have compared better to that feeling of a weight lifted from her shoulders. Worry disappeared and gave way to earnest joy in Shadowheart, and she thrived on it. She hadn't felt such keen happiness since she'd been so readily accepted into Asheera's family by her parents.

WIP 3: Gauntlet of Shar fic

Wow, I know! I've been talking about writing this fic for so long that it's almost become a sort of mythical never-to-be-slain beast for me. I'm not normally someone that talks about my ideas too often, I just write them before they can flee me.

I tend to also get in my own head about what I "should" be writing in the first place. Frankly, I'm getting kinda tired of writing so many ships, though fear not - I'll still have ideas that can only work with ships that aren't Shadowheart/Asheera. It's just that, for a while, I want to focus back on my loves.

This fic is one of those that I've wanted to finish for months. I know that at this point in the fandom's life cycle, I'm pretty much writing just for the dedicated, lovely folks that still read my stuff and I'm extremely happy to have y'all around! Maybe this will make Light Casts a Shadow ring a little more true for some, maybe it will be just another fic that I post, who knows.

Also, one thing I'm planning on experimenting with for this fic is alternate endings for Fun. This is a fic where the ending hinges on choices that Shadowheart makes in the game, so it's only fitting that I explore what would happen if she made those other choices.

But anywho, enough blabbing. Excerpt time!

Those touches and more, Asheera cherished. She watched in silence as Shadowheart turned her devotions to each of those tasks. Perhaps it was the nature of clerics to give themselves entirely to seemingly mundane tasks much the same Asheera felt compelled to consider her oaths in nearly every conversation, battle, or even moments like Shadowheart carefully buckling a cuisse to her leg with straps of leather at the backs of Asheera's knees. Fingertips trailed against her clothed skin, and Shadowheart stood up once more. "There," she said, "all's taken care of, then. Tell me, how's my handiwork? Be honest. I can handle the criticism." Asheera brought her balled fist to her chest in an arm curl. She flexed the elbow out and tested her shoulders, knees, ankles, and hips for motion. None of the plates caught on one another, and none of the straps across her hands, arms, knees, or chest restricted her. "Perfect," Asheera said at last. "Marvelous work." Shadowheart offered a quick smile. "I'll take a Gondian's compliment on such things any day." "Can't say I would've done a better job." "Ah, there's the honesty I was waiting for. Truly, where would you be without me?"

[guineverist]

wip wednesday

hello it is been a minute! it is i, writer of the is it over now? inspired fic. i finally have new stuff for wip wed!

the fic has been change drastically since i last posted snippets i entirely deleted like 7k words of it and am in a mass rewriting mode because i decided that i hated what i had going before. i'd like to thank taylor swift for releasing guilty as sin? because that made something click in my head and we are so back.

this is an introductory scene, no kc but a beginning i'm much happier with than what i had going before

. . .

Klaus had started... appearing around the town. And if it wasn’t him, Rebekah or Kol would just happen present.

Caroline didn’t question it for a while, the Originals had lost any sense of mystery they had by this point. You can only witness so many cases of organ extraction for the pettiest reasons before the family that originally struck fear into all of their hearts becomes just Some People.

She once witnessed Rebekah snapping Kol’s neck after he wore a “YOLO” shirt because she hated the joke. She couldn’t look at either of them with the same fear or wariness after that.

But, yeah, she didn’t question why the members of the Original Family seemed to be everywhere until Bonnie pointed it out.

They were at the Boarding House, one of the few places that seemed to be Mikaelson-free, when she made the claim.

Tyler was somewhere in the mountains again and both Jeremy and Matt were on shift at the Grill. This meant that only Caroline, Elena, Bonnie, Stefan, and Damon were present.

“Has anyone else noticed the rotating Mikaelson guard around us?”

Elena nearly fell off the chair she was perched on as her eyes widened. “Oh my god! That’s so true. I’m so used to seeing them at this point that it really didn’t hit me until now. Do you think it’s because they want to make sure we’re not making moves for the cure without them?”

Stefan’s head snapped up as he opened his mouth to respond, but not before sending a furtive glance in Caroline’s direction. She didn’t want to know what that was about. “That would definitely make the most sense.” He said carefully.

Bonnie shook her head. “Well this causes problems for us, right? We can’t hole up in here, because that would be suspicious, but I’m not keen on having all my conversations monitored by J. Edgar Mikaelson, either. The Original Hybrid does not need to know what scores I get on my history exams.”

Caroline always had more difficulty with STEM than the humanities, but nodded anyway. She looked around the living room that they were lounging in. And the scattered glasses all around them. “And I can’t keep drinking the same bourbon.” Her lips tugged into a sly smile. “I’m starting to feel like I should dye my hair black and start making inappropriately snarky comments.”

This pulled Damon from his silence (read: third glass of the aforementioned bourbon). “You could certainly attempt it. Success, though...”

“Well if you can manage it, how hard can it be?” Caroline sniped with narrowed eyes.

They looked at each other for a minute, Damon clearly trying to decide if it was worth it to snap back, when Elena coughed next to her. They both (far too synchronously for her liking) turned to stare at Elena, who was clearly trying to stop herself from laughing.

Where Elena nearly succeeded, Bonnie failed. Soon enough, they were all laughing as if they were normal people and not an assortment of supernatural creatures.

[thewolvesof1998]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by no one because it's not even Wednesday yet (52 minutes away) but I've finally written something?!?! Thank you to everyone who has been tagging me - it honestly makes my day reading your snippets and while I'm so busy and stressed and struggling to write atm I love reading your fics so keep tagging me!

So here's the beginning of Chapter 3 of Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em my Rodeo AU:

Eddie’s eyelids are heavy when they blink open and close in the early morning light, it streams in between the poorly made blinds that- Blinds.  Eddie almost bolts upright in the hotel bed but the arm curled over his waist stops him before he rudely wakes up the person who was currently clinging to him like an octopus- Chris had become fascinated with them after a trip to the aquarium a few months back, Eddie has seen many clips of octopi clinging to humans and can only assume this is what it is like if that octopus was a 6’2 man.  Buck is spooning him.  His head is tucked in between Eddie’s shoulder and neck, soft sleepy breaths causing goosebumps to rise on bare skin. Buck’s arm curls around Eddie’s waist and his hand comes to rest against Eddie’s ribs and rises and falls with every quickened breath. His whole body is pressed into Eddie’s in a hot line down his back, so close that he swears he can feel Buck’s steady heartbeat through skin and muscle. There’s a hairy thigh tucked between his and he thinks he probably should be freaking out more but it's so fucking nice being held so he relaxes back into Buck’s hold. 

Masterlist of posts about this fic- 18+

Read Chapter One and Two on ao3- 18+

Tagging (no pressure): @wikiangela @wildlife4life ​ @alyxmastershipper​ @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @try-set-me-on-fire @jesuisici33​ @ @bekkachaos @buddierights @forthewolves @911-on-abc @hippolotamus @shitouttabuck @911onabc @exhuastedpigeon @eddiediaztho @your-catfish-friend @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @mangacat201 @theotherluciferr