#noxwrites

[dhr-ao3]

Behind The Tapestry

Behind The Tapestry https://ift.tt/NFLoiXd by Noxwriter Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were the last two people Seamus Finnigan expected to catch out past curfew. Nonetheless, together with the smell of sex that permeated the small space. Words: 1033, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Seamus Finnigan Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Secret Relationship, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Wall Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Soft Draco Malfoy, Possessive Draco Malfoy, Protective Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger is Always Right, Shameless Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Vaginal Sex via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/oOM2d3T August 19, 2024 at 06:27AM

[lanseax]

could u please tell me where to find your fic? i cant find a link anywhere

idk which fic in particular you’re talking bout but all my works are on ao3 @ noxwrites

[trash-side-of-nox]

Chapters: 7/14 Impact (Fall II)

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman/Annie Leonhart Summary:  Even though she has gotten to hate Annie— after the fight, the destruction, the betrayal… it was taking every bit of strength in Mikasa to suffocate the idea that Annie had meant too much for her too.

[noxiraphale]

Been having some fun with this sandbox of an idea that emerged from a GO Discord server.

A GO AU where Crowley is an apple-tree-dryad (or tree monster? whatever) and Aziraphale lives in the quaint cottage outside Crowley’s orchard.

My friend @call-of-the-ocean​ has been making some really neat illustrations based off the premise. I even made a playlist for it which you can listen to here if you’re into that sort of thing. I also wrote this little ficlet that I’m only sharing on Tumblr. With all this preamble.

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

Crowley sits in the circle on the cliffside. It is the middle of the night, the moon is high and full above him, and there is a breeze that shushes the trees.

Crowley sits in the circle and looks beyond its perimeter, out at Tracy and Anathema dancing around him. They swing their arms around in odd circular patterns. Their skirts are a swirl of hues and the beaded fringe on the edge of Tracy’s jacket cuts the color of the moon into brief flashes of light. Crowley is hypnotized by it as he watches her and Anathema dance a rhythm around him.

He is on his knees and his hands are deep in the dirt. He looks down at them, buried up to the wrists, and thinks for a brief moment that he should take them out. When he tries, they don’t budge.

Crowley looks back up and now Tracy and Anathema aren’t really there. He can hear them chanting some nonsense language he doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t look away.

Tracy and Anathema continue their swirling dance and their alien song. They sweep around Crowley, kneel deep towards the dirt, raise their hands up towards the moon, then coast them down by their feet in a deep bow.

When Anathema finally catches Crowley’s eye, she’s crying. Crowley can’t figure out why. He can’t figure out much now because everything is becoming a strange phosphorescent blur. Tracy and Anathema have become a swirl of rainbow colors and the moon is a burning ball of light and the cold dirt around his fingers feels like a good place to set up roots.

So he does. He sets up roots.

When he opens his eyes again, the sun is out and the birds are chirping and there is a delightful crisp smell of apples in the air. He breathes it in deep and his chest creaks against the motion.

Crowley moves to stand and oh how tired he feels, his whole body rebelling against him. His knees ache and the joints at his elbows ache and somehow his hands hurt to unfurl, as if he’s been clenching his fingers for too long. Yes, he’s aged, but surely this is a bit excessive treatment, is it not?

There is a peculiar feeling budding up within him. Something akin to hunger, this sort of aching emptiness, but it’s relieved when he steps out of the shadow and turns his face up to the light. Facing the sun feels like drinking and Crowley certainly cannot remember the last time that the heat had felt so good.

Oh but that smell of apples, that delicious crisp and bright smell still permeates his senses. He turns away from the cliffside and ambles into the wood, following his sense of smell that eventually leads him to an orchard and an empty cottage.

The scent is even stronger here and he can see, dangling heavy from the branches, bright red apples, gleaming in the sunlight. He reaches out a hand to pluck one delicately (had apple trees always been so short?) and watches as five twigs unwind in front of him, curl around the body of the fruit, and tug it off it’s stem.

Crowley raises the apple to his lips, opens his mouth to take a bite.

He stops and brings the apple in front of him. Turns it around in his gnarled hand.

Five twigs.

Wrapped there. Brown against red.

Is that a little leaf off the index?

He doesn’t drop the apple, instead lowers his arm to rest heavy and wooden by his side. Crowley peers down at himself and takes in the flat bark scales that cascade down his chest, over his hips and pelvis, the large trunks of his thighs and calves. There are little sprigs of green shooting off him at the joints.

The sun is bright and hot and high and it feels good against his back as he slowly sinks to his knees against the cool dark earth.

[talesofnox]

RULES AND DISCLAIMERS FOR REQUESTING A FIC TO BE WRITTEN

Please read thoroughly and abide by these rules when requesting a fic to be written. Any failure to follow these rules will get your request deleted and not even acknowledged.

RULES

I REFUSE TO WRITE AND HAVE SMUT IN MY REQUEST BOX! I may read and enjoy smut, but I do not feel comfortable writing it. Occasionally, one of my fics will have very, very mild smut, but that is it.

DO NOT SPAM! If I repeatedly see the same request in my box from the same account, all requests from that user will be deleted and I will not write the fic.

OPEN AND CLOSED REQUESTS! Please check my bio to understand when my requests are and are not open. If they are CLOSED, I am most likely finishing up a few other requests, or am just in the middle of a writing slump. THE LATTER WILL MAKE ITSELF KNOWN!

REQUEST ONLY FOR THE FANDOMS AND CHARACTERS UNLESS I SAY SO! I have a set list of the fandoms and characters I write for. My writing is for my enjoyment. If a character is not on the list but you feel they should be, please ask about it and I will try to respond and add them if I choose to do so.

PLEASE BE SPECIFIC! I dislike nondetailed requests as I never truly know what the requester wants, so please be as specific as possible to allow me to give you exactly what you want.

LIKE AND REBLOG! Reblogging helps me as a creator to wish to continue writing, so please like and reblog my work, especially if it was your request.

STAY GOLD, READERS!

DISCLAIMERS

FICS SHORTER THAN FIVE PARTS DO NOT HAVE A SEPERATE MASTERLIST! There is no reason (in my eyes) to make one, so all parts will be directly on the series masterlist.

MORE RULES AND DISCLAIMERS MAY BE ADDED! Check back after revisiting to understand any updated rules for my account.

Following these rules will make my job a lot easier for all of us. Thank you for understanding! /~[]~\ /~[]~\

[too-attached-to-fiction]

Tonight You Belong To Me | Bucky Barnes

Masterlist here.

Word count: 1120

Warnings: none, just pure fluff

Requested: No

A/N: as promised, here’s a Bucky imagine! Originally I imagined it with Steve because of the dance he promised Peggy, but I thought that Buck should have his dance too! Pure fluff (finally, am I right?) I hope you all enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed imagining and writing this!

The song that goes with this fic is this one.

~~~

You sat on the counter of the kitchen, your ukulele in hand. Bucky was running around the kitchen, attempting to make dinner (although you predicted that it would most likely end poorly, as he refused to use the internet). If this meal was anything like its predecessors, then the night would end in going out for pizza in the Bronx.

The first time he’d tried to cook he attempted to make chicken - which ended up really raw. The second time, he’d made fish, and practically burned it to the bone. The third time he’d insisted not using the internet, and attempted steak. It wasn’t too bad, except for the fact that it was impossible to cut through. Things kept going down hill after that.

Sure, you’d tried helping, tried fixing his mistakes when he wasn’t looking. But he was so goddamn stubborn. He wanted to do it on his own. He didn’t want your help.

Especially when you were as good as a cook as you were. You practically ran the kitchen when you cooked, working on three dishes simultaneously. You let him help but tried to keep the knives away from him. For a super soldier, he was very clumsy when it came to anything other than hand to hand or firing a gun.

It was his last night in New York for the next week or two. He was heading to Wakanda at T’Challa’s request to help rebuild. The Wakandans had taken a liking to him, which you had found rather entertaining. He insisted he make dinner, since you were typically the cook out of the two of you.

Tonight he was going to try making pasta, and he had practically banned you from the kitchen; well, until you had climbed onto the counter with your uke. He could easily pick you up and move you, but there was just something so adorable about the way you crossed your legs and hummed to yourself as you played. Plus, the music was good, and your humming made it even better.

You played chords mindlessly, trying to figure out what to play. You’d already teased him enough with 40s music this morning, and there was the large gap of music that he missed. You were still trying to help him get through each decade - right now you two were stuck on the Beatles - so anything from the past sixty years wouldn’t work.

Maybe it could.

You leapt off the counter, running to the living room and returning with your laptop. Before Bucky could exclaim that for the last time, he wasn’t using the “damn interwhatever”, you had pulled the video up, setting your ukulele down somewhere safe.

The song played from the computer, soft uke melodies coming from the speakers. Minutes before, he had dumped the pasta into the boiling water, and had been watching the timer carefully. Still, you took his hands, making him dance with you as the song played.

Initially, he protested a little as you moved him away from the stove top. Nevertheless, he gave in quickly, his smile reaching his eyes as he let you move his hands.

“I know, I know, you belong to some-body new, but to-night, you belo-ong to me.” You sang as he twirled you around the kitchen island. “Although, although, we’re apart, you’re a part, of my heart, and to-night, you belo-ong to me.” You spun into him, and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, still swaying to the melody.

The tempo sped up, and so did you, turning back around and intertwining your hand with Bucky’s metal one. “Way down, by the stream, how sweet, it will seem, once more just to dream, in the moonlight.” He tugged you closer, and you put your arms around his neck, his hands settling on your waist.

“My honey, I know, I know with the dawn, that you, will be gone.. But to-night, you belo-ong to me, just-a little old me.” You sang, moving one of your hands to cup his cheek, your thumb rubbing over the slight stubble that littered his face.

The trumpet interlude rang out and the two of you stayed that way until it ended, swaying gently. After the song was finished the timer went off and you laughed as he rushed to strain the pasta.

You maneuvered around the kitchen, grabbing placemats, plates and utensils as he finished dinner up, taking slightly burnt garlic bread out of the oven and pouring a can of red sauce over the pasta.

Neither of you were big on drinking, preferring water instead. Bucky didn’t like the way the alcohol could make him forget; it reminded him too much of his time as the Winter Soldier. You just didn’t like the taste.

You took a forkful of your dinner, testing to see if it was edible before getting more.

“How’d I do?” His voice was low, eyes full of anticipation. You teased him, going in for a second bite and pretending to think thoughtfully before you told him your decision.

“Good. A little overcooked, but…” You laughed, shaking your head. “I should have taught you pasta first.”

“Where’s that song from?” He always tilted his head a little when he asked you questions. When he had done it enough times when you started dating, you had pointed it out, saying he looked like a little puppy. He did it less often now, but enough to make you smile every time he did.

“A movie from the 1970s called The Jerk. Steve Martin’s one of the main actors.” You smiled. “But it’s actually a much older song, written in 1926. I thought it would sound familiar.”

“It did. Just not the way the records did back then.” He said thoughtfully, and you looked down at your plate.

“You like it?” You asked softly, your head still bowed a little but your eyes flickering up to his.

“Yeah. Reminds me of dancing every Saturday night before…” He trailed off.

Tomorrow, he’d leave for two weeks.

But tonight, you were his, and he was yours.

[lxtent]

“I don’t want your apology.”

Soft Angst Starters

An apology denied. Wasted... no, not wasted. It would never be wasted, to when it was Daesung. But all Leo’s explanations were worthless. There was nothing else he could say. How could he tell him that it felt as though he could no longer outrun his past, that it was swiftly catching hold of his footsteps with every move he made? Daesung might understand, but... today was not about him. He owed that much to his friend.

Leo took hold of Daesung’s wrist, his grip gentle, and looked him in the eyes. “I don’t have anything else to give.”

[cataclvsmal]

☀︎ `  @noxwrites  ♡  for  a  starter  (  ft.  CHAI  &  ANYONE.  )

                    ❝  have you ever tried living in a house with nine overgrown babies ?  ❞  he flops comfortably on the couch and rests his head on their lap.  ❝  because let me tell you, it’s hard work taking care of children.  ❞

[sunlitnights]

#ask angel or kat i'm very happy to talk about ships for hours on end || no printer just fax

look my statement has been backed up which means it must be true

[justafcntcsy-archive]

[ 📲 • sms ] —— why are you texting me? i’m standing right beside you…

text messages // accepting!!

[ sms ] — because what are we supposed to do about the woman crying in the store!!! [ sms ] — help me!!!!!! :((( 

[commedias]

closed for: @noxwrites

           lungs compressed from the lack of air, neglecting to take his inhaler along with him. it was ironic, a pulmonologist with asthma. it provided another reason for his colleagues to tease the doctor, harrassment a common recurrence since childhood for him. since then, he hasn't had many close friends to confide in. out of all of his social circle, jimin's one of the few trusted people. he's had a rough day at the hospital wanting some form of reprieve. he's not one to drink or go out at all for that matter — instead calling his friend to request coming over. once the invitation has been granted, he's heading there directly after his shift. bleary eyes greet jimin, exhausted enough to collapse into his arms. he doesn't, instead settling for a light embrace. his head lays on jimin's shoulder, comfortably resting for a minute. after returning back to his senses, he peels himself away from the man's sturdy frame, ❛ sorry, i just had a long day, ❜ sang explains, a drowsy smile sweeping over his lips, ❛ i didn't think i'd be getting here when it's almost dark. it's beautiful though, isn't it ? want to go outside and stargaze ? ❜

[dhr-ao3]

Wizard On A Ledge

Wizard On A Ledge https://ift.tt/HaUNS89 by Noxwriter Draco stands atop of the Astronomy Tower. Words: 790, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Post-War, Hogwarts Astronomy Tower, Suicide Attempt, Past Relationship(s) via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/vYNgV4d September 05, 2024 at 07:06AM

[mpleforest-blog]

@noxwrites : minhee & jaeyeon.

Minhee seemed to always find herself at the bus stop. Whether it be day or night, she was waiting for the bus to take her out of her way to go to school, to go home, to get some cheap, convenience store food--anything really. Her usual bus stop wasn’t too crowded, especially by the time she was standing there. It would be late and she would be off of work, so she’d be left alone in her thoughts.

That night, the familiar schedule changed. It had been only about a few seconds after she herself walked into the enclosed bus stop, when he arrived. She didn’t take much notice of him at first but it was hard not to notice the only person beside her. She sat down her bag full of her teaching supplies, rummaging through it looking for her water bottle.

But alas, the said water bottle rolled out from under her and right to his feet. Embarrassed, but too tired to actually care, she reached forward and snatched it up. A rather seemingly forced smile appeared.

“Sorry about that,” and suddenly she was straight as a stick again. Embarrassing indeed, once she started worrying about it.

[trash-side-of-nox]

Relationships: Igarashi Sayaka/Ikishima Midari, Igarashi Sayaka/Momobami Kirari, Igarashi Sayaka/Momobami Ririka Characters: Igarashi Sayaka, Ikishima Midari, Momobami Kirari, Momobami Ririka Additional Tags: Character Study, Light Angst, Introspection, Falling In Love

Summary:

Tides are the rise and fall of sea levels, caused by the combined effects of the gravitational forces exerted by the Moon and the Sun and the rotation of Earth. --- The first, the second and the third time Sayaka Igarashi fell in love.

[noxiraphale]

For @racketghost​‘s 13 Days of Halloween prompts.

(Graveyard) Ends of the Earth

Anthony J. Crowley is on a mission.

“To the ends of the earth,” he mutters to himself, glancing down the scarp to the right of him. Up ahead, advancing in elevation and curving around to the left, the trail continues on towards the peak of the mountain.

The sky is a bright blue this time, sheer wisps of clouds drifting slowly by in the gentle breeze. A wind floods up and over the ridgeline, crashes back down the other side of it, rustling the trees in its wake like an oncoming tide.

Anthony closes his eyes and inhales deep through his nose, exhales out through his mouth. He rolls his neck, his shoulders, adjusts his pack, and continues onward. Rusted quartzite is turned loose in the dirt trail under his feet and perhaps in different circumstances, this might be something he would have to be mindful of. His circumstances aren’t different though, they aren’t quite normal either, and this is what? The fifth trail he’s walked? No. No. The number is far greater than that.

“To the ends of the earth,” he huffs out.

[too-attached-to-fiction]

The Mind Palace Arcade - Q + A 2.0

I'm doing another q+a because we are running low on stock chapters-

Notes:

ANOTHER IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT:

UPDATES ARE NOW ON FRIDAY NIGHTS.

I won't be updating this Friday but next Friday I will.

- Nox

~~~

Q: How did you come up with the idea for the fic?

Clam: I was up late at night and thought “man imagine Virgil in an arcade uniform that’s hilarious”. And by late at night, I mean 3 AM. And then I wrote the AU.

Q: how do you come up with the amazing chapter titles for this fic?

Nox: The actual chapter titles are based off of app updates (version 1.0.5, etc). If you're talking about the chapter SUMMARIES, I usually make them up on the spot when I write/post them. They're usually things that I write to get a basic idea of what's going to happen in the chapter.

Q: how long does it normally take to write a chapter?

Nox: It depends. If I'm really into it I'll write it within an hour or so, if I have no motivation I'll write it over a couple of days. It generally only takes Clam an hour or two to edit. Lately the newer ones have taken longer because we're doing so much character development.

Read more

~~~

Taglist

@rememberfateau-nowoffical @midnight-personal @thelowlysatsuma @bucketsofclams @sleepless-in-starbucks @sanders-sides-crofters @thgjclw @amazing-creepyfloof @max-is-tired