#I’ve never written one of these before

[cha1cedony]

(For the question thing you asked for :D) what are some of your favorite fanfics? Dndads or other-wise?

Ooooh thank you! It’s been years since I’ve read more than a few fics for any other fandom, and I don’t really remember any that stuck out to me by name :( Not that you want to read old Danganronpa fic anyway lolol

However, I DO have a favorite DnDads fic! Which is Mine to Bear by pen_ultimate. Be warned that it’s very NSFW and has a lot of other content warnings. But it also has my favorite Darryl and Henry characterization everrrr. Holding the Line that Holds his Heart by trustycustard is another favorite, mostly because it’s one of the very first DnDads fics I read, and I love rereading it :) My favorite fics are typically long slow-burns lol so sorry about that :P They’re really good, though! Highly recommend.

Apart from that… 😬 I really need to start bookmarking stuff, because I KNOW I have a lot of oneshots and shorter fics that really stuck with me, especially when I first got into the fandom and was binge-reading every fic, but I can’t find them (because I never used to comment on things 😭)

I remember REALLY loving some from travvymybeloved (@officialgleamstar)’s Soulmate September 2023 series. I’ve reread how dare you want more by LordAxxington (@aximili) soooo many times. o_o please don't say you love me by nonbinaryjesse appeals to me VERY specifically lol (OCD Grant fic) and I love it. Come Home by @isadora-greenhall made me think about Nicholas and Jodie for an unhealthy amount of time HAHA

Maybe I’ll edit this someday or just make a new rec list in the future if I can remember more of my faves? 😭😭 I need to start bookmarking stuff sooo bad. Wish there was a way for me to see what fics I’ve left kudos on. ANYWAY. So sorry this is a messy response, but tysm for asking!!! ^_^

[writeouswriter]

My followers: And is this “writing” you’ve been “working on” in the room with us right now?

[pacifistcowboy]

some people think the awkwardness of how difficult espio’s horn makes it for him to kiss is unromantic, but i honestly can’t imagine anything more romantic than espio telling silver it’s impossible for him to kiss anyone due to his horn, so silver, determined as ever, grabs espio’s face with both hands and gently and contemplatively tilts it to the side, then thoughtfully tilts his own the opposite direction, then slowly leans closer until their lips are inches away from each other then stops, and softly says “see? it isn’t impossible.”

[kindfrog]

Altruist AU

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Premise: adam succeeds in killing Alastor, and dying altruistically for his friends is enough to get him into heaven, to his ever lasting horror.

Adams attack is as bright as the sun, and crashed over him with the force of a tidal wave. “What just happened?” Blinded and disorientated, it took Alastor a moment to process the attack was over. “Ffff-uck.” Feeling the uneven weight of his staff in his hands, he had only a split second to understand that his staff was split clean in two, before Adam came crashing into him from above.

The weight of the first man bore down on him, and the sharp edge of his guitar axe pressed deeply into Alastors chest. The force of the attack sent him flying across the roof, back slamming harshly into the stone. Stuttering for breath that wouldn’t come, Alastor gritted his teeth to smother the scream that desperately wanted to escape. The brief moment of shock that numbed the initial pain drained away, and the sharp agony across his chest left him choking.

He could taste blood in his mouth, could feel it warm and gushing from his side. Flickering his eyes to an approaching Adam, Alastor tried to summon his powers to portal him away. It was with horror he realised they were unresponsive, leaving him at the mercy of Adam.

“Tch- not so smug now are ya bitch? Still got that rotten fucking smile stitched on though huh? I wonder what it takes to for you to finally drop it, or do I have to peel the fucking skin from your face?”

“Ha ha! what a delightful theory! I’m afraid it’s not a matter of skin and bone though.”

“The fuck? stop speaking in riddles. You’d think dying would have you considering your last words more carefully! Not that it matters! I’m the only one who’ll hear them, and you can bet I’m going to forget them within the hour.”

At this point Alastors vision was beginning to fade in black around the edges, and he desperately tried once more to portal away. Adam lifted his blood stained guitar once more, and without further talk, swung it down heavy back onto Alastors chest. And again. And again. And again. Until finally Adam huffed a breath, gazed down at Alastors still and smiling face for a second, and lifted his guitar from the mutilated corpse with a disturbing squelch.

————

“…ow”

Alastor woke slowly with the phantom echos of his second death racking his body. He coughed and was surprised to no longer taste any blood, and slowly dared to open his eyes to take in the change in surroundings.

He was sprawled on his back in an undignified and uncomfortable manner across a cold white tile floor. Cautiously lifting himself on his elbows, he was surprised to note his chest was distinctly whole and non-disfigured given his last memories.

A quiet gasp broke the stillness of the air, and with a crack he twisted his neck to face towards the origin of the sound. A young female Angel sat at a table gazing back at him with wide eyes. Next to her a larger Angel sat, and despite their similar colourations, they could not seem more different in that moment.

Scrambling ungainly to his feet, feeling simultaneously the best he’s ever felt and like he just went though a meat grinder, Alastor let slip a abrupt curse. His limbs felt like jelly and to his horror he realised the weight on his back was two massive wings that fluttered and twitched seemingly with a mind of their own.

The larger Angel had a distinctly horrified expression on their face, in contrast to the smaller Angel who looked delighted at Alastors sudden appearance. Well, that made one of them. Alastor was quickly coming to recognise what the appearance of this clean white room and two Angels likely meant for him, and he was decidedly not feeling happy about it. Well, when in doubt, one can always fall back on manners.

Taking stock of his undamaged torso and carefully bringing his limbs in from his previous position, Alastor stood at full height and wished he had his staff to have something to do with his hands.

“Alastor! A pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure! Say this wouldn’t happen to be heaven now would it? Only, I was just in hell, and I rather hate to think I’ve just left in the middle of the grand finale!”

“…no. No. Absolutely not.” the larger Angel deadpanned.

“Sera! Be nice! Hi Alastor! I’m Emily! I’m so excited that you’re here! Do you know Charlie? Is she okay? Did you get killed in the extermination? What did you do to redeem yourself? How did-“ the smaller Angel, Emily, let out a stream of questions that Alastor decided to interrupt before she could go any further.

“Ha ha! Quite the introduction my dear! I’m afraid I don’t have the answer to all of your questions! Why I have no idea why I would be in heaven! Last I checked redemption wasn’t a card on the table so to speak, and if it were, why I doubt having your chest caved in by the first man would win you anything! Ha ha!”

“Wait what..? Adam killed you?” Emily’s eyes had slowly widened as he spoke, filling with confusion and despair in equal measure. Beside her Sera looked contemplative, gaze narrowing at the mention of Adam.

Disregarding her question with a face splitting grin, Alastor finally spoke the thought he’d been thinking since he realised he was in heaven, “Now, so sorry to disappoint, but I’d truly rather rip out my eyeballs and eat them than stay another second staring at these white walls! Do tell, how does one go about making their way back down to hell?”

[loudlightobservation]

How do you think Syd and Carmy will realize they have feelings for each other?

Here’s what popped into my mind.

(Forgive me as I am often poor at articulating my thoughts)

Carmy

Carm and Syd are in the kitchen at the Bear.

They are both independently working, kind of like in S2, ep 5. Sydney knocks something over, curses under breath, grabs a broom and dustpan and starts to sweep.

What she knocked over definitely made a big mess. Usually Carmy would jump in to help but instead he just finds himself observing her. He has a slight smile on his face. We then see scenes of Syd and the times they’ve spent together, as though they are racing through Carmy’s mind. And then, like a ding when something is done cooking, we return back to Camry’s face of realization. He realizes “Oh that’s what these feelings have been? I like her?”

Syd snaps him out of it, “Hey you gonna just stand there? Or are you gonna help me?”

Spell broken, he bends down and helps her clean up, unsure of what to do with this new information. Body on fire because of his now close proximity with Syd.

[willex-n-waffles]

AHHH so a couple years ago I started writing a JATP fic where Julie, Flynn, and Carrie are neighbors with The Boys in a duplex. And Julie hates how loud the boys play music and a prank war ensues between the two households. But Julie kinda likes Luke and there’s a Willex plot too and all that good stuff It’s basically enemies to lovers/enemies to friends JATP squad (including Bobby!). And I won’t lie, I think it’s my fave thing I’ve written fic-wise so far. Like I REALLY enjoy reading it because i find it super funny and entertaining. But obviously it’s not finished (I’ve written 8k words but it’s no where near completion) and I don’t think I ever will finish it. But I kinda wanna post it on Ao3?? or here?? Just for the hell of it??? The fandom here is kinda dead anyway so I would be surprised if there was any interest but idk. Just thinking abt it

[hollythius]

Hi hi!!! I hope youre doing well?

Was wondering if i could ask for a luffy fluff where for one whole day he was silent while staring at the reader and it turns out that he was thinking how beautiful the reader is 😭 you can delete this if you want :)

today ; luffy x reader

hi maira!! i’m doing great! hope your alright as well :) i’m not too much of a luffy fan (in the romantic sense) so i’m so sorry if this turned out bad! i’ve…actually never written luffy before i don’t think. huh.

the sun beamed down on the crew, nami explaining that today would be one of the hottest they’d experience. luffy positioned himself on the ship’s figurehead, while you took to sunbathing on the deck.

luffy’s eyes wandered, looking for something interesting. the pout on his face was evident when he saw that ussop and chopper had retreated inside, and that zoro was fast asleep against the mast. nami and robin were chatting with sanji in the kitchen, brook was busy tuning his violin, and franky was busing repairing scratches on the sunny.

so naturally, his eyes landed on you. the sun’s rays bounced off of you, giving off an ethereal glow. his stomach felt tingly, sorta like he was hungry, but he couldn’t bring himself to go nag sanji about meat. luffy’s gaze was stuck.

as the hours passed and you occasionally got up to reapply sunscreen, or fell asleep, or do other mundane things, luffy still couldn’t take his eyes off of you. his stomach was rumbling, but for once he didn’t care. the crew was growing worried, all except you, because you had felt his gaze on you all day. if you were the most interesting thing out here, who were you to deny your captain his entertainment?

eventually it was time for dinner, and luffy mindlessly followed you into the kitchen. upon his entrance, several hands were on him; checking his temperature or making sure he still had a pulse.

“stop it guys! what’s up with you?” luffy whined, swatting their hands away.

“you haven’t said anything all day! isn’t that cause for our concern?!” nami roared.

“you haven’t even begged for meat once! did you get a heatstroke out there?”

as the crew’s concerns fell on deaf ears, luffy simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you. it was flattering that your captain really cared like that, so you’d let him be.

[majestyjun]

so would u guys hate me if i wrote a stepbrother member thought,,,

idk smth about being stressed n busy somehow brings out the dark taboo thoughts eeek

[wilwoo]

Ok so here’s part one (out of eleven) of a lil past-gaster comic I’m working on. I’ve finished all the drafts, I’m just cleaning some of them up a little…

Hope you like. Thank you all extraordinarily for 900 followers. (?!?!rukidding)

I’m goddamn blown away everyday by all of your love, support, and funny comments.

xoxoxo ❤️💛💚

next>

[eddienashtonn]

ok y’all i have 4 riddler songs written they are called riddle me this, puzzle king, rat race, and (un)mask and i am currently making a beat for riddle me this

[cloud-based-and-rainpilled]

Using all my bisexual powers to write a tomshiv/tomgreg oneshot smut fic with a reference to Temple Grandin; talk about Succ Sundays!

[infinitegest]

inspired by @milkbunnyboy

cw: tentacles, monsterfucking, hyperpreg

— I want to be big.

We’d been chatting on Dating App for a while now, and found some good chemistry, talking for hours about interests and philosophies before getting into any raunchy territory. But, obviously, we’ve reached that territory.

I asked about your turn-ons, your fantasies, and while you gave a proper explanation of it all, it boiled down to a simple phrase:

— I want to be big.

Oh, and a clarifier:

— And I don’t care how you get me there.

I responded… enthusiastically, to say the least. We set up a time and place to meet, get dinner, and see where the evening took us from there.

It’s odd, though. You don’t really remember dinner. You don’t remember bringing me back to your place. What you do remember, though, is the feeling of being pushed against a wall as we made out, and my hands exploring you, kneading you, preparing you for the evening to come.

There was a moment where you broke free to take a proper breath, and, thinking you’ll deliver some witty, flirty line, looked back up at me—

And realized you were in trouble.

My face, grinning and panting, seemed to… shimmer, somehow. Like a projection on a curtain that was starting to get disturbed by the wind. As it flickered, you had the surreal sensation that you were looking at two overlapping images: one, the person you had matched with because of their looks and odd sense of humour; the other, a shadow, slowly resolving into a dark figure towering over you. It’s features were hazy, but you remember seeing bright, shining eyes, with irregular, fractal-like pupils. There were far more than two.

The other feature you noticed were the black tendrils that had replaced my hands on your body. Again, far more than two.

You moaned as they slithered over you, wrapping and spiraling until it felt like they covered every inch of skin, pulsing against your neck, your chest and arms and legs and hips, before finally spreading you wide and plunging inside you.

You gasped from pleasure and confusion and perhaps an iota of fear, though you certainly didn’t want it to stop. The tentacles engulfed you, pulling you closer and closer to those shining eyes. You even felt your feet leave the ground as the smoky, curling arms took your full weight, twisting and turning you in the air, and always sinking deeper and deeper inside you. You could feel them writhing deep in your belly, as though searching for something you had hidden away.

You had no way of telling how time passed, whether it was a minute or an eternity, whether you came once or a thousand times. All you remember is waking up in your own bed the next morning, with a choir of sore muscles singing for your attention but otherwise zero evidence of the night’s occult acrobatics. I was gone like I’d never been there.

You opened your phone, still debating whether to message me over what the fuck had happened, when you saw a handful of notifications from my number:

— i’m here!

— we still on for tonight?

— let me know if you’re on your way

— kk, i’m assuming you’re either standing me up or are so intimidated by my stunning good looks and winning personality that you panicked last minute and moved to cuba. i’m heading home, let me know if you want to talk.

I seemed to believe we had never met in person, and you had no idea how to explain what happened. So you chose not to, closing out of the app and trying to convince yourself to never text back. You chose to believe that it had been nothing more than a very strange (enjoyable) dream. The easy way out.

Until a month after the fact, when buttoning your pants started to present a problem in your morning routine.

You hadn’t had sex in almost a year (aside from our little “dream”). But you took the test. You scheduled an appointment. You laid back as they squirted gel on your obviously rounded stomach. And you stared in awe as the nurse counted out seven tiny, wiggling dots.

As time wore on and your belly grew by leaps and bounds, the babies themselves gave every sign of being completely normal, though measuring a bit on the heavy side. You, on the other hand, were anything but normal. Two months in, anyone looking at you could tell that you were swelling with life. By your fifth month, you already looked overdue. And every night you went to sleep with a blend of dread and excitement, knowing that, come morning, you would be even bigger.

Which brings us to the present day.

You are big. So, so big. You’ve gotten so heavy and overloaded with my septuplets that, as you discovered this morning, you are incapable of getting a good angle between your legs to satisfy the inferno of need burning deep in your core. No matter what you do, either your stretched, baby-dominated stomach or your thighs (perfectly thickened to provide some form of stability as your center of gravity grew further and further out of your control) bar you from achieving climax.

Obviously, this simple truth only ratchets your libido up even higher. You’re too big, too pregnant, trapped by your own body in a state of constant, unbearable need.

Which is why, after months of radio silence, you finally message me. You don’t know if I’ll be the human that you apparently stood up that night, or the nightmare that appeared instead and got you in this overabundant position; all you know is that I’m your best bet at getting even the slightest amount of relief.

You keep details vague, just expressing regret over ghosting me and a call for urgent, immediate help. After a half hour that feels like an eternity in the 2nd Circle of Hell, you hear the front door click open.

“Hello?” You hear me call out, tentatively.

“In here. Please.” You try to work yourself up to standing, to provide even the barest facade of welcoming me in, but by the time you notice I’m standing at the threshold of your bedroom, you’ve only barely managed to prop yourself up in a sitting position, your baby-filled belly resting heavily on your lush, widened lap. Kicks ripple along your taught, stretched skin, as my offspring, your rambunctious passengers, fight for every inch of space they can get from your reluctant body.

Panting under your own size, you look up—

And see a set of bright, irregular, and ravenous eyes shining back.

[skoulsons]

She beat his chest.

She beat his chest and he held her.

Well, as best he could with one arm. As best he could in this newfound partnership with a kid. As best he could not know what plagued her mind so much that she lashed out against him. What thoughts and memories were circulating in her mind to send a strong, wise girl into feeling such a way.

His phantom pain and loss on his right side longed to hold her back. To hold her as she deserved to be held. Had she ever been held before? His left hand only jumped between rubbing small circles down her back, tracing her spine, to threading his fingers through her blonde strands, carding the tangles out as he combed his fingers through. But it wasn’t enough.

His hand, as it was against the crown of her head, left too much empty space across her back. He wasn’t holding her at all that point; she was pushing herself into his chest, her fists balled up against it. And with a hand across her back left out, what he figured, was some degree of comfort and reassurance, purely based on the way her breathing changed every time he did.

He couldn’t give her the best of both.

But he did what he could. What, deep down, he thought was right. He’d never comforted anyone, let alone a young girl, in a long time. He hadn’t been comforted, truly comforted, or held in a long time. Like the pain in his right side, it was a sort of phantom pain. Something there was missing, but he could never get it back.

He didn’t say anything and it caught her, and, funny enough, him by surprise. He never stopped talking, they both knew that. She’d told him as much.

You talk a lot.

That I do, birdie.

Even if it was mindless information; meaningless words that meant no stretch of importance in the Black, he said it anyway. Random stories of his time on the Green, mythical tales, old partners, some phrase he picked up in his time as a scoundrel and it’s history that needed a twenty minute explanation. Everything had a place in the air between him and anyone who would listen. Or wouldn’t.

But now, in a moment of emotional vulnerability that they somehow managed to keep at bay until right now, he had nothing. Not a word to lighten the mood (and he’d thought about it, but decided against it), or a word of comfort. Though, he wasn’t exactly sure what could comfort her through something like this.

Her cries had quieted down, only small hiccups strewn across his chest and following sniffles and gasps for air. She loosened her fists against his chest, very gently fiddling with the slack of his undershirt.

He’s not Damon.

Eventually, she adjusted against him and pulled her arms away from his chest and wrapped them around his middle. She held onto her own hands around his back and settled her face more into his chest.

He’s not Damon.

He continued tracing her spine. Whenever a few more tears fell or she’d sniffle or let out a small whimper, he’d bring his arm as far around her back as he could, squeezing her tightly for a moment, eyes closed as his cheek would graze the side of her head. He’d turn into it, every time, nearly swaying them side to side to hold her as tight as he could.

How much was too much? Could he hold her as tightly as he wanted to, that he believed she deserved for all that she’s gone through?

She was a tough kid, that was for sure. He, honestly, never imagined having to do this. Having to comfort some kid who shouldn’t have been been on the green in the first place. A girl who’s father he killed. He shouldn’t be doing this.

He shouldn’t be caring. Shouldn’t be attached, if he could even call it that. Shouldn’t want to hold her tight enough to squeeze the life out of her. To reassure her and try and understand the thoughts in her head and hold them in his own. For her to lay her grievances on him so he could bare them in her place. He shouldn’t be wanting to take care of her.

Reluctantly, she pulled away slowly, reaching up to wipe at her face with her sleeve before he could see her.

Ezras hand hovered, unsure what exactly to do with it. He let it fall to his own side, hesitant to keep on her if she didn’t still want it.

She let her head hang as she pressed her sleeves to her face, trying to sniffle the congestion away that all her crying had given her.

“I’m not… mad at you,” she started, trying to compose herself in front of him despite having just cried against his chest. “There’s a lot that’s happened. Damon, the Saters, your injury, trying to get off the Green, trying to keep you alive…” she sighed, doubting he understood the weight of last frustrating few cycles and how they’d weighed on her.

She looked up shyly, anticipating a more Damon-esque reaction to her outburst. “It’s been a lot and it caught up with me and I didn’t know what to do with it. I’m sorry,” she said, looking anywhere but his eyes.

Ezra gave her a hesitant, soft smile. “That’s alright, little bird, don’t you worry a thing about it. I’m afraid I can’t be mad at you for feeling such a way after all that has transpired.”

He was not Damon.

Damon would ridicule her for feeling anything that wasn’t related to Aurelac, the Green, or survival. He’d make her push through it, refusing any comfort or reassurance, leaving Cee to fight it all on her own. He didn’t let her enjoy things or have likes. She’d tried to talk about The Streamer Girl to him, and every time he’d managed to brush her off and pay more attention to his syrettes or sleeping. He was barely kind. She was barely a person to him anymore, let alone a daughter. An extra pair of hands just so he could get some points.

But Ezra. Ezra was kind. He was soft. He wore a smile that she hadn’t seen in a long time, especially not on her own father. He indulged her likes and even said he’d like to read Streamer Girl someday. He protected her every way he knew how while also missing a limb. He trusted her. Trusted her words and trusted her capabilities.

“Say, birdie, do you plan to write some of your thoughts into that notebook? You spend quite the time in there as is-“

She laughed wetly and punched his arm, “shut up, Ezra.”

He smiled, raising his only arm surrender. “Afraid I’m not critiquing your avocations. Simply an observation.” He paused, his lips forming a tight line. “Think it’d do you well to write them down, birdie.”

He was right. She did spend a lot with her notebook. Writing, mostly. Her own small stories. Retelling Streamer Girl word for word from reading it so many times. Small sketches of what she saw on the Green or out in the Black. The interior of the ship. Ezra.

She could add journaling to the list.

Cee nodded, her eyes still red and slightly puffy as she looked up at him. “Yeah, maybe so.”

They didn’t talk much more that night, the two of them settling comfortably into the silence. Well, silence for Ezra. It was only slightly uncomfortable to him, but with the light scratch of Cee’s pen against the paper and her humming and the tapping of her foot to the tune coming in through her headphones, he managed.

They were managing. A new person, for both of them. For Ezra, a child. For Cee, a guardian. New, unforeseen circumstances to work through. Both of them having someone to care about, to fight for. And the entirety of the Black out there to explore, and they’d be doing it together.

[howdoyousleep3]

Posting far too early in hopes that hype and excitement gimme that strong start but…

Who’s ready to get kinky? 😈🖤

Specific pairings for each kink to be shared later for when I will surely need another boost of spirits. 😅 Some kinks/prompts I have carried over from last year since I didn’t finish all of them from 2021. I’m wildly stoked though! Proper stories! 🥹 Any guesses as to which pairings/characters belong with which kinks??

Much lub to my main squeezes: @slothspaghettiwrites @maddiewritesstucky @rainbowsandcoconut @musette22 @babyyhoneyydarling @christywantspizza @baseballbatbucky and @sheetsforwhichimmade

[soupbtch]

.

[adriancatrin]

me rereading my fic and wanting to continue it and knowing that the remainder of the first draft is crammed in shitty handwriting in two huge ass notebooks… why did i do this to myself