#karl urban is the man of my fucking dreams

[enchantedflameandflower]

pretty sure this ass would fix me

(I’m an idiot and somehow deleted the original post, which nulls the tags, but Karl’s ass is a MASTERPIECE and shall not be deleted, officer arrest me, take me to jail!!!!!) reblogged original ass

[indigohoney08]

It’s me…I’m girls 🎀

[dwinchesterspie1967]

All I can say is THIS

Karl Urban in Comanche Moon so far is a MUST WATCH if you haven’t 🤌🏼🥵🫠

[burntsaltsblog]

karl posted on instagram cuz he knew it would cure my depression. and it did😌

thanks karl🫶🩵

[ao3feed-crimeboys]

my faithless hoax

by phantom_star739

"Are you new?" Tommy was sick of this question. Every other person that came in asked it, as if everyone knew who worked at that cafe. “Not your fucking business.”

“Fair enough,” the fae said. “Who are your friends?” Tommy bit his lip. “Why? You don’t have to know everything about me. Stranger danger.” The man shrugged, making the earrings on his pointed ears clink together. “I wanted to see if I knew your friends. So we can have something mutual.” “Ask for my fucking hobbies first. Or my name, you know? That’s how you become friends.” “Yeah?”

Tommy carelessly placed the drink on the counter. “Not that I’d want to be friends with you. Two fifty-four, please.” The fae paid, but he didn’t leave. “I say we get to know each other. You can call me Wilbur.”

'You can call me', Tommy noticed. Not, 'My name is'.

OR: supernatural urban fantasy au where tommy moves into a new city and gets roped into a lot of trouble OR: crimboys/sbi/benchtrio main in order of importance in this fic

Words: 4251, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, Dream SMP, Origins SMP

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

Characters: TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson | Philza, Niki | Nihachu, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Alexis | Quackity, Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs, Charlie Dalgleish | Slimecicle, Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Sam | Awesamdude

Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Alexis | Quackity & Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Fae Wilbur Soot, Vampire Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Urban Fantasy, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Secrets, Traumatized TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Fluff and Angst, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, if this doesn't blow up i will cry, Touch-Starved, who loves tagging?, not me, Hugs, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kissing, no beta we die like my will to live, Protective TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Loves Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot Loves TommyInnit, BAMF Toby Smith | Tubbo, Fae GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Werewolf Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), wait, i can tag cafe in this one, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/40265568

[trade-baby-blues]

Looking Up

Pairing: Bones x Reader

Word Count: 1160

Warnings: Angsty, swearing

A/N: Requested by @brooke-taylor0323 for my 300 followers AU Celebration! :D In doing this I’ve figured out that meet messy AUs are my fave. Prompt was:  i’ve had a really awful day so i started kicking a car out of frustration and it turned out to be your car i’m so sorry.”  Hope you enjoy!!

The air was too thick in the office, choking you as you swallowed back tears. The once gentle hum of the air conditioner sounded like a wordless scream falling on the deaf ears of your supervisor as he sat across the desk from you, looking awkwardly at his hands.

“Fired,” you whispered again. You thought repeating the word would make it sound less foreign, but it felt just as strange on your tongue.

“Not fired,” he said, voice oozing the faux happiness you’d only experienced directed at customers, “Let go.” You were still trying to process what he said when he was ushering you back to your office, which had already been packed up. Four years of college, five years of work, and one fading dream all stuffed into two cardboard boxes propped on top of your now empty desk.

You struggled to balance both boxes under your chin as you made your way to the elevator, mind still racing with thoughts of what you were going to do now. This had been your dream job, the vision that kept you going through college when the stress from tests got too much, when you sacrificed social time to work at internship after internship. You reached forward to press the call button when you saw the sign on the elevator. Under maintenance. Your throat burned and you had to pinch your eyes shut to keep yourself from crying. You could feel your shirt clinging to you as sweat began sliding down your spine. Your arms were shaking lightly already from the strain of carrying the boxes. With a sigh, you went to the stairwell, hoping your arms would hold up until you got to your bike.

The stairwell light flickered, making the way down more ominous. Your footsteps echoed in the hallway, and you tried to commit the sound to memory. The droning of the fluorescent lights and the distant smell of toner. You didn't realize how much you'd miss. You were rounding the corner to the second floor when someone came flying out of the stairwell exit, crashing into you and almost sending you careening down the stairs. You latched onto the railing, dropping your boxes but managing to stay standing.

“Sorry,” the person said, bolting down the stairs without stopping to help you up. You watched your belongings tumble down, echoing in the hall and in your head, reminding you how hollow you felt now. A picture frame hit the floor and shattered. Your Christmas office party two years ago. The year Jim told you you were getting a promotion. You collected your things as you went down the stairs, stopping at the picture with a heavy heart, walking past to leave it for the spiders. Clearly, you didn't matter to the company so they shouldn't matter to you.

The brightness of the sun lit up the shadows of your face, and you walked out of the office head held high, a plan forming (if you could call a date with a bottle of vodka a plan). You still had an apartment. You still had your bike. You were going to get through this. You’d take a couple days off and really enjoy your newfound freedom before hitting a few local places that were always hiring. You opened your eyes, ready to take on the rest of the day, and your heart shattered.

Your bike was stuck under a car, tire rim twisted into a menacing metal smile. The pink wicker basket that normally sat on your handlebars was cracked in half across the sidewalk. The boxes slipped from you grasp again, contents hitting the ground and scattering. A few papers got caught up in the wind and blew away along with any shred of self-preservation you had left. You pushed your sleeves up slowly, methodically, as your mind went into autopilot. As you walked towards the offending car, blissfully unaware of what was to come, a smile spread across your face. You were definitely losing it.

Your boot bounced straight off the tire the first time you kicked. You swung your foot again, hitting the rim this time. Pain shot through your foot but you swung again mercilessly. The pain kept you grounded, helped you fight against the haziness that tore at your vision and the tightness building in your chest. You kicked again, hitting the bumper. Tears began to fall freely now as you kicked the bumper again, this time leave a small dent. You lifted your foot to swing again when a strong hand grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the car.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? That’s my fucking car.”

“And that’s my fucking bike you ran over,” you screamed. People on the streets were turning to look, but you couldn’t find the energy to be embarrassed. Why not let them get first row seats to watch your life fall apart? You balled up your fist and hit him weakly against the chest. “It was all I had.” Another swat, another sob. “And you b-broke it.” You staggered back against his car, letting the despair wash over you.

The man stood dumbfounded, not quite sure if you would hit him again or keep crying. Although, he probably deserved another smack for making such an angel hurt so deeply. God, he can’t remember the last time he saw a face as perfect as yours, hair tumbling down and framing it. He wasn’t exactly a religious man, but damn if Leonard McCoy wasn’t having a spiritual moment right now. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said gently, reaching to put a hand on your arm. When you didn’t pull away, he started to rub small circles on your skin. “I’ll buy you a new bike, I promise.”

“No,” you said, choking back another sob, “No, I’m sorry it’s just been a really shitty day. I got fired and then the elevator was broken and I fell down the stairs and then I found out my bike was broken and now I’m spilling my guts to a really hot stranger on the street and I just can’t stop talking I just can’t sto-”

Luckily, another sob cut you off before you could keep rambling on. The man in front of you only laughed, pulling you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling his broad chest pressed against yours, feeling protected. “How about you let me buy you lunch, sugar? I know a restaurant close by with a pecan pie so good I think my mama must’ve sold them the recipe.”

“I’m allergic to pecans,” you muttered into his chest. He chuckled again as he reached past you to open the passenger door. You shamelessly ran your hands across his chest and down to his waist, feeling every dip and curve of his muscles through his white dress shirt. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” you muttered as you slipped into the car.

Tags: 

@outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @yourtropegirl @trekken81 @feelmyroarrrr @yukki-art @atari-writes @pabegay1 @bolontiku

@daybreak96 @8bit-arc-reactor @jimtkirkisabitch

This is the Bones I pictured for this bc blue suit beardy Karl Urban is my weakness: 

[goingknowherewastaken]

Convergence

Title: Convergence [Part 2]

Fandom: Star Trek

Relationships: future Scotty/Reader

Warnings: confusion and panic, theorizing of the worst possible situations

Prompt: the Reader gets pulled into the Star Trek universe and confusion ensues over the incident

A/N: Aww yeah, part 2!! Things are starting to pick up a bit more in this one. Also this part (and future ones) will have changes in the pov. Sometimes it will be from the reader’s perspective and other times it will be in like third person 

This is a part of a series! You can find the previous parts here: Part 1

Convergence || Part 2

A faint hum and the glow of lights behind your closed eyelids were the first things you noticed as you started to come to. The next thing you noticed caused your eyes to flicker open in confusion.

After failing to move your body, you picked your head up to the best of your ability.

‘What the hell?’  

You tried to move again, but the restraints wrapped around your limbs and torso kept you firmly tied down to the bed you laid on. You searched your surroundings.

‘Where am I?’

Panic started to set in, raising your heart rate and quickening the rise and fall of your chest. You were alone in a small, sterile white room, bathed in pale blue light from the various screens. While the one inset in the wall before you was dark, the ones immediately surrounding your bed blinked with information you couldn’t understand. There were cupboards and a desk, two rolling stools and three stacked chairs, and IV drip and dozens of unfamiliar devices.

“Oh god oh no oh no no no no no.”

You struggled for several more moments before giving up, opting instead to wrack your brain for any memory of how you got here. When nothing came forward, you grumbled under your breath and inhaled deeply several times thinking that maybe calming down would help.

Letting out one final breath, you started to think back through your day.

It was sunny; a little chilly, with a light breeze, but it was clear and bright out. You inhaled the fresh air, thankful that it was the first day of Spring, as you walked down the street. A couple passed by on the sidewalk, their mouths moving with a conversation you couldn’t hear. Pulling out your phone, you upped the volume of your music before adjusting your earbuds. A larger gust of wind blew at you and, putting your phone away, you flexed your fingers as a faint tingle started to make itself known. Seeing the crosswalk up a head, you jogged forward and jabbed at the button. You shook your feet and hands as you waited for the light to change. With how much they were tingling you regretted not grabbing your gloves and a thicker pair of socks. By the time the sign light up with ‘WALK’ your body was practically thrumming. You pushed on across the street, eyeing an open bench when --

Your eyes flashed open and you screamed, “OH MY GOD!”

You had to get out of here. Forgetting about your restraints, you struggled to move once more as your heart raced. You’d seen the different crime shows; there were always episodes that showed a kidnap victim escaping from their restraints.

That is what happened, right? They hit you with their car and then drove your unconscious body to some secret hide-out in the middle of nowhere...for testing. Damn it! That’s the only possibility.

“Oh hell no. I am not becoming some lab rat,” you growled, thrashing more. You were in such a state you didn’t notice the beeping happening around you.

Nor the three people walking in.

You heard a voice - a man’s voice - shout, “Good God, woman!” That one was at your bedside in a second. You struggled more and tried to jerk away from him when his broad hands touched your shoulder - gently. It made you aware of the low, comforting voice he was speaking in, repeatedly telling you to calm down. Even though you stopped fighting him, your body stayed tense. You cataloged his appearance with wide eyes.

Tall. Broad shoulders. Olive skin. Wow, he looks really concerned for a kidnapper. Short, poofy, brunet hair. Strange, he looks really familiar. Kinda like Karl Urban. There was a glint of silver on his pinky - oh! A ring! A blue shirt with silver rings around the cuffs. And, huh, that looks exactly like -

“OhmygodBonesohmygodit’syouholyshityou’reDoctorMcCoy -,” the words poured out of you like word vomit when your mind finally supplied the missing gap in your memory.

"- I'montheEnterpriseohmygodI’montheEnterprise -” you cut yourself off with a high pitched squeal. Fucking dream. Come. True. Now you were practically vibrating with excitement and curiosity. “-OhmyGooooood!”

☼

McCoy’s eye twitched at the bombardment and he turned to see Kirk and Spock showing their unease in their own ways. “You see what I mean.” Spock’s eyes stayed focused on the impostor on the biobed while Kirk’s flickered to his own. A sharp gasp from behind him alerted Leonard that their new guest had noticed her visitors.

“Oh my god you’re -”

“- Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. I know.” Jim stepped forward before she could finish, his face now absent of shock and fully composed; he’d gone full Captain Mode. “Who are you and where is Ensign Pellos.”

“I - uh - what? Who?” She looked just about at gobsmacked as they all were.

“Who are you and where is Ensign Pellos,” Kirk demanded evenly, standing next to McCoy at the bedside. Spock came to stand at the other side of the Captain. He lifted his hand - causing her to notice the tablet Padd he held - and tapped at it. The formerly blank screen lit up, revealing a photo of Ensign Pellos. Her eyes flicked to the screen. Shock painted her face.

“[y/f/n] [y/l/n] and I don’t know who that is!” She looked up at them with wide eyes that darted between the three.

“How did you get aboard the ship?” Spock questioned.

“I - I don’t know?” She stuttered. “ I was crossing the street and I heard a car horn and the car was right there and - and then I was here and -” [y/l/n] flexed against the restraints. “Why - why am I tied down?”

“You’re tied down because you were interfering with your treatment and causing us concern,” McCoy spoke up before checking over the various readings. “Do you mind telling us why you’re missing all necessary inoculations?”

She turned her head to better see him and blinked. “I - I’m up to date, what are you talking about?”

“Judging by the few dozen hypos we had to stick you with while you were out, you,” he turned around and pointed at her. “Were anything but up to date.”  

“So she does not posses the risk of spreading or obtaining an unwanted illness?”

“No,” McCoy returned with his tricorder to collected more readings, his patient going from looking affronted to being curious over his process.

“W - wait, is that a tricorder? Oh, that’s so much cooler in person.” Her comment resulted in three confused men. The tension seemed to drain from the room.

“What do you mean - Do you not know what a tricorder is?”

[y/e/c] eyes didn’t stray from the device at Kirk’s question. “No, we’re not even close to having this tech for real. People have been trying for years ever since the TV show. We accomplished a few, but some are still way too advanced.”

“Miss [y/l/n], do you know today’s date?” She finally pulled her focus away and settled on the Vulcan.

“March 20th, 20...17,” [y/l/n]’s voice softened as a realization came over her. “That’s not the date here, is it?”

Even before Spock responded, she seemed to deflate on the biobed.

“[y/l/n],” Kirk spoke gently, stepped closer, and motioned for McCoy to release the restraints. “We are going to do everything we can to get you back to the proper point in time.” Spock didn’t appear to think this was a good idea but, before he could say anything, Kirk’s Comm chirped.

“Scott to Kirk.”

...to be continued

Let me know if you wish to be tagged in this or added to my taglist in general! :)

Tags: @hesgonnalovethis @wonders-of-the-enterprise

[enchantedflameandflower]

I can’t stop thinking about that hand, that forearm, that bicep, that shoulder, that chest…I want to nibble every single freckle and tell him how they taste…

[indigohoney08]

*sighs loudly*

[dwinchesterspie1967]

Watching Priest again to get my daily dose of Black Hat in before bedtime. Karl in this was 🥵🤌🏼 MMMMMMMM

BLACK HAT NEEDED MORE SCREEN TIME THIS WASN’T FAIR 😭

I desperately need to see this man as another badass vampire P L E A S E—I BEG—happily sell my soul for it

[ad-astrah]

roast all the booties now go

Well, I mean, they’re all a bunch of dirty heathens, but...mkay here we go!

@mcavoy Weak in the knees for dogs, shares too many pics of her doggo, no filter around the kiddies (always give sexual advice/saying sexual things), and a needy ho always in need of validation for SOMETHING. I stg, every day she be like, “omg guys VALIDATE MEEEE.” ALSO DOESN’T RECOGNIZE “I’LL MAKE A MAN OUT OF YOU” WHEN PEOPLE REFERENCE IT.

@phalangine Turtle fucker. Wanted Karl Urban for herself but I claimed him first so HA. Always reviving the worst of meme culture. She doesn’t need to get her mind outta the gutter, her mind IS the gutter. The gutter even thinks she’s dirty.

@sokohvia The flakiest of bitches. FUCK THE US we got homeless people and fancyass malls. Secret Confederate Era Grandpa tellin’ the chilluns when an asswhoopin’ is on the way.

@greysummers Sassy little binch who thinks she’s SO FRACKING FUNNY. Tainted innocence. Low key a total ho - mostly @mcavoy‘s fault. An impatient little shit who couldn’t WAIT to get her ass handed to her.

@silverjohn Too busy fawning over gay pirates to talk more on the group chat. Tried to crush my FlintHamilton dreams after the Black Sails finale by bein’ all, “yeah, no, they’re stuck in a farming prison and they’re NEVER GETTING OUT.” Fuck that, Hend, let the gays be FREE. Gay AF for Clara Paget. Luke Arnold’s Unofficially Official Stalker.

[burntsaltsblog]

im watching the bachelorette and this episode takes place in new zealand and im patiently waiting for karl urban to pop up

[amoretheiwa]

Angst asks for all ships. 7, 14, 21, 23

(I’m assuming this is for the angst prompts I just reblogged so I’m equating each number you gave me with the appropriate letter) (also I’m gonna choose a different ship for each prompt cuz I’m trash for some ships right now)(I’m writing these as ficlets rather than headcanons because I haven't written in forever but don’t have time to work on my actual fics right now)

7/G- would they hate-fuck if they were mad at one another? if they had a falling out? (I don’t write/read smut but here’s the closest I’ll get)

Ship: CaptainHill (Maria Hill/Steve Rogers)

Her eyes were daring him to kiss her. Steve had always been one for making sure consent was established first in their relationship, in the bedroom, but since he was a fugitive on the run, time was short, and he could still remember what Sharon’s lips felt like. How wrong they had felt. 

So when Maria’s dark eyebrows are lowering down over her ice-colored eyes and she’s opening her mouth to deliver yet another lecture about the clusterf*ck that Steve had let things fall into, he can’t resist.

One of his hands is gripping her under the chin while the other is tightly holding her wrist down by her side. Her lips are still moving in the shape of words but Steve doesn’t really care. He takes a deep breath through his nose and finally closes his eyes as she starts to kiss back.

The kiss lasts for less than 10 seconds before she’s pulling away and raising her other hand to slap him or sock him in the jaw.

He catches that wrist as well before she can move and their eyes are locked, an electric quality to the air around them.

“I’m not your girlfriend anymore, Steve.”

He raises an eyebrow, and the boyish charm that normally endears him to her is gone, replaced by the sultry lust-ridden gaze she had seen too many times in her dreams.

“And I’m not your boyfriend.”

This time she lets him kiss her again, and doesn’t stop him.

14/N-who grieves more when the other is away?

Ship: McKirk (I’ve never written them before but I’m Karl Urban and Chris Pine and Leonard Horatio McCoy and James Tiberius Kirk trash)

“Bones, what are you doing right now”

“What do you think Jim? I’m doing my job!”

Bones rolled his eyes as he went back to his charts. Being CMO on the Enterprise for the past 3 years had enabled him to become fairly proficient at the accompanying paperwork but it didn’t help him any when his husband and Captain was bored and wouldn’t leave him alone.

Just a few minutes later Leonard found himself answering his comm again.

“What?”

He asked tersely, not even glancing at the device.

There was silence at the other end.

“You’re needed on the Bridge, Doctor.” Came Spock’s voice.

Bones was on his feet before he even finished computing the sentence in his head.

“What happened Spock?”

“The Captain appears to have...fainted.”

Somewhere in the background, Bones could hear Chekov and Sulu.

“He swooned!”

“The man swooned!”

Bones rolled his eyes and walked out of his office, closing the comm before more nonsense could come across.

“Nurse Chapel,” he called as he walked out of his office.

“Christine!”

“Yes, Leonard?”

“I have a lovesick and dainty captain to go see to. Call me if something serious comes up.”

“Yes sir.”

21/U-what’s the thing they miss most about each other?

Ship: Ironwitch (James Ironwood/Glynda Goodwitch)

Glynda would never admit it but she had a thing for James’ metal hand. Not like a sexual thing, while that was nice too, but a massage thing. Her stress levels were off any chart ever created and he was one of the few who had an accurate gauge on how stressed and tense she was. He could read her like any one of his reports and would more than just offer a massage.

He would take care of things he didn’t need to for her, prepare her tea with a little extra honey, make sure the painkillers were ready and the lights dimmed after a particularly hard day. But she would never admit that she missed his massages, just like how she would never admit how much she missed him.

James freely talks about Glynda to Winter and the specialist can’t stand it sometimes. Her superior had always been in love but ever since the two had officially rekindled their relationship, whenever they were apart he would not stop murmuring about her bright green eyes or her thick blonde hair or her sassy small mouth. It made Winter sick and she would not fail to tease him about it. That is, until he started to send pictures of a specific kind of black bird.

23/X-who’s more jealous?

Ship: Shidge (Shiro Takashi/Katie “Pidge” Holt)

They were in space for Heaven’s sake. Everyone on the ship was either family or like family to Shiro. Everyone except for Pidge. But for some reason, whenever Lance tried to practice his flirting with her or Keith tried to help her master one specific move in hand-to-hand training, Shiro couldn’t stop his blood from boiling.

Pidge never cared who interacted with her boyfriend, even if it was another alien. She was so obsessed with all the new technology even after 7 years in space that she decided to simply trust her boyfriend of 4 years to not do anything she wouldn’t be okay with. 

No one purposefully tried to come between the Paladins of the Black and Green lions, but sometimes Shiro wondered if Lance’s snickering as he possessively kissed Pidge in front of the ambassadorial delegation was because Hunk had just lost a bet (they had bet how long it would take for Shiro to notice the young prince’s flirting and care enough about Katie’s lack of reaction before kissing her in front of everyone as a show of claiming) or because Katie was high-fiving Keith behind Shiro’s back.

Thanks for asking nonny!

[bisexuallittlefreaks]

wip

list all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. this can be writing, art, vids, gifsets, whatever.

tagged by @cilophyte <3

A Discussion on Monogamy

this is a little mcspirk post beyond ditty (okay, i say little...) that happened because i’m a diehard mckirk shipper but beyond was so damn spones-y and i love mcspirk so ta da. it’s two chapters in--one focusing on jim freaking out that bones might leave him, the second a pwp mcspirk goodness, and there’s one chapter left to write. i swear i will write it soon, i swear to god.

Untitled McSpirk Longfic

this is the reason i’m so determined to finished a discussion on monogamy. because it’s the prequel to this long ass fic i have almost entirely planned out with some great whumpiness (esp on bones’s part), badass ladies, a guest appearance from jocelyn and joanna, and much more. the worst part is i haven’t written any storyboarding down for this... ha.

Make Me Alive

we move away from star trek but not away from karl urban. this is an Almost Human fic (and if you haven’t seen it, do because it’s only 13 episodes and greatly underappreciated--just make sure to watch it in production order, not airing order). i’m over 20k words into this one and i’m just finishing up the first of three acts. ha. it’s basically a shippy (jorian) season two featuring more danicas, vaughn’s return, and ANNA. i’m trying to explain all those plot holes we were left with because only one season and i’m about to introduce some new characters, my favorite being the medical examiner, reilly glover, who is genderqueer and epic. we have a couple more murders to solve and vaughn has yet to show his face, and let me tell you the resolution with vaughn is going to be so. damn. satisfying.

i’m putting a read more here because at this point everything else is original work

Lights in the Mountains (Gisola)

a long time ago i finished my first full original book. it was a grand total of fifty pages and i’d been fighting with it for about seven years. i then went to a writing workshop and came out with the courage to trash it finally. i spent the entire next day with a notebook trying to come up with a new story. i decided to pick out bits and pieces (settings, characters, storylines) from all the other stories i’d come up with over the years that i always loved and mash them together. this is the result. it’s about two cities who suddenly find themselves under attack from a monster from the mountains and two individuals who travel over the mountains to try and find a solution. instead they find out that everything they thought they knew was... well, not wrong, exactly, just... misconstrued. it’s an urban fantasy with polyamory, queerness, false gods and evil racist asshats, a small dragon-like creature who’s everyone’s lovable uncle, and a weird mix of technology and magic.

there is also a prequel planned for this story called Secrets in the Sea that features an asexual siren and i can’t really say more without going much more into detail about Lights in the Mountains.

Fallen

this is my baby. this started out as a book, and then it was a stage play, and now it’s a miniseries. this was inspired by a snapshot scene in a dream of an angel waking up to realize her wings are falling apart. in her grief she absolutely tears them to shreds herself. the imagery was so compelling i came up with an entire six episode story around it and that scene doesn’t happen until the last fifteen minutes of the last episode. the full story is about two very different women who survived the apocalypse and start to (unwillingly at first) gather a group of survivors with the sole purpose of trying to survive. (well, and for one of the women to exact revenge on a demon for the death of her little sister.) very much supernatural inspired (in case that wasn’t obvious...), but i like to think it’s better if only because there are queer characters, complicated moral issues (that angel ain’t so angelic and that demon ain’t so demonic), a lot more women (though, to be fair, they were all dudes until charlie bradbury died and i went on a rampage through my stories of WHY DOES THIS PERSON HAVE TO BE A DUDE? THEY DON’T. THEY’RE A LADY NOW. FUCK YOU), and an actual ending in sight.

The Dragon Princess (not the final title)

the dragon didn’t kidnap and eat the princess, the dragon /is/ the princess. and no one knows until izzy, a firework maker’s apprentice, is literally picked up into the air by said dragon princess. kind of a lesbian beauty and the beast story except the dragon/beast is sweet and ridiculously socially unprepared instead of a bit of a dick. there’s also a gaston-type villain, but he’s a Nice Guy (TM). i really don’t have much figured out beyond that for this story, but there you are.

No Man’s Frontier

this was a novel and then i realized i don’t know cowboy stories well enough so it’s now a movie where i’ll get some good experts to come in and help. this is one of those mixing two story types together things--dragons live in the western area of north america. the railway has died because of the dragons and people are moving back east. our asexual hero (yep, more asexual characters--you can expect a lot of them in my original stuff) meets a dragon who’s been outcast from it’s pack and injured and realizes maybe dragons aren’t all that bad after all. we have all the classic cowboy story elements including the chieftess of an american indian tribe, a grizzled old asshole cowboy, and of course--ending with a ride into the sunset. just this time it’s on a dragon instead of a horse.

The Children’s Circus

this is a television series that has some heroes elements in it. long ago in the 30s, 40s, there was an orphanage that was hit with lightning and all the children suddenly found they had powers. that same night the woman in charge of the orphanage disappeared so the oldest boy (who’d been out when the lightning hit and therefore didn’t get powers) found himself in charge but too young to work and still take care of the children. he decides the best way to keep all these children together and safe is to start a traveling freak show. fast forward to modern day.

a construction site’s found something odd and the police are called in. our two cop heroes investigate to find there’d been a mudslide on the site decades--almost a century--ago and somehow everything was perfectly preserved. everything being a freak show full of children. while they’re looking around, the children start moving. not only were they perfectly preserved--they’re still alive.

and that’s just episode one.

No Time

i’m not sure what this is going to be--book, movie, television, etc. this is a vonnegut inspired story so that alone should tell you a lot about the vibe at the very least. it takes place on a planet where the cloud cover is so heavy that there’s no night or day. there’s no way to measure time, so by all rights, there is no time. the planet is very peaceful and chill until one of our heroes who asks too many questions finds a way to send a small shuttle above the cloud cover and discovers there’s an entire universe out there. this leads to a complete societal meltdown.

Time Menders

this is a movie trilogy with elements of doctor who, firefly, terra nova (another fox network scifi series that ended too soon), and star wars. ...probably some of things as well, but those are the most obvious. ...i have no way to explain the plot of this story right now without way too many words, so i’ll just say there’s time travel, alternate universes, black holes, and slightly psychic children (in the manner of river tam).

and there you have it. my wips. i won’t tag anyone, but feel free to do this if you feel inclined :*

[enchantedflameandflower]

18+ only, for sex, piv, mild spanking, smut, billy is obsessed with your arse Billy Butcher cannot keep his big, strong hands off of your ass, basically at all times. When you walk by his desk, his deft hand is reaching out to smack your ass, a devilish grin curving his lips when you squeak or yelp. When you’re cooking dinner, he’s slinking up behind you to grab a handful of one cheek, squeezing playfully and rumbling gruffly in your ear about ‘dessert.’

When you’re walking through the city, his big palm slips down from your lower back, patting the lush twin curves possessively, his expression clearly projecting mine to anyone that dares to look your way, and in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep, he tugs you close, his hand rubbing - comforting, protective, and even more possessive as he calms you back to slumber. Some nights he sneaks in the shower behind you, groaning, “Look at that fuckin’ gorgeous arse…” and wastes no time pressing his already swelling cock against you. All of it has you bending over for him immediately, your core aching for him. And he loves when you ride him reverse cowgirl, his big strong hands squeezing and kneading your ass cheeks. He moans as he pulls your cheeks apart, watching you fuck him, “Takin’ me so well, that perfect tight cunt,” he husks, your slick gushing all over him. Then he slides his big hands up to your waist, encouraging you to move faster so he can watch your ass bounce on his thick cock. Your thighs are starting to ache, but you’re so close to coming, your body on fire, your clit throbbing helplessly. “That’s my good girl,” he rumbles, “don’t stop, love, keep goin’ till I fill you good and full. Come fer me now, doll, but don’t stop bouncin’ till I tell ya.” Then he slaps your ass with a perfect crisp sting and you’re gone.

billy butcher masterlist

[enchantedflameandflower]

need this man more than I need air…

(nsfw) pov: Billy asks you to strip for him while he finishes his cigarette. When you’re bare he drags his gaze over your body, head to toe, hot and intense.

Setting his beer aside and putting his cigarette out he finally beckons you to him with two fingers. You crawl on to the bed and tug at his boxers until they’re off and his cock is hard and hot, jutting up toward his belly. You know what you want.

In the next moment his hands are tangled tight in your hair and his leaking cock is filling your mouth. When you take him to the back of your throat he groans that you’re his good girl.

You’re already aching and dripping for him, but you know he can keep this up for a while. He urges you to take his thick cock even deeper and your cunt throbs in response, clenching around nothing.

Later, Billy repays the favor, his tongue dancing entire recitals over your swollen, throbbing clit, while his strong hands hold your thighs splayed apart against the bed. When you tug roughly on his hair he loses it, shifting to thrust deep into your body and rumbling gruffly about all the ways he’s going to tie your hands up next time so he can take as much time as he wants at his favorite buffet.

You lose count of how many times you come on his tongue, and his fingers, and his cock before you both finally pass out, tangled up together in bed.

karl urban masterlist