#tacky writing

[alexandriad]

🏳️‍🌈 🏴‍☠️ happy pride month, mateys!! 🏳️‍🌈 🏴‍☠️

[lemonwrap]

Retired domestic Ghoap where their first argument outside of work is over the layout of their garden, which way the toilet paper goes, or who should take out the trash this week because they both forgot whose turn it is

[tackytigerfic]

WIP Snip

Nearly finished this fic, final extended scene is a go atm. In this snippet, Harry has just arrived unexpectedly at the Manor where Draco is undercover pretending to be a Death Eater. CW for wandpoint confessions and mild angst.

Draco’s eyes narrowed but he put his hand inside his robe and then, quicker than Harry could have hoped to notice, Draco had his wand out and was holding it to Harry's throat, pressing hard so the wood bit into the tender skin under his jawline. "You are Harry, I suppose? You seem right, of course, but there’s always a chance that someone enterprising might come along with a stash of Polyjuice and a gift for impersonation.” “Oh, fuck off,” Harry managed, and the point of Draco’s wand wormed slowly deeper into flesh. “You knew it was me the second you saw me.” “Mmm, I suppose that’s true,” Draco murmured agreeably, something suggestive about how the sound travelled through the small space between them. His free hand strayed to Harry’s forehead and he brushed his fingers lightly over the dried blood that Harry could feel tightening on the skin there. “But indulge me. Tell me something only you would know.” Harry scoffed, though he was thinking with his throat tight of Arthur knocking at the door of the Burrow in the middle of the night long ago, and Molly blushing, and how they had exposed the long intimacy of their marriage for safety's sake. “There’s a lot I could tell you,” he said tightly. “If you’re really sure you want to hear it.” “By all means,” Draco said, eyes on Harry, searching for something in his face. “You fucked me in that bed and afterwards you asked me not to leave because you wanted to wake up with me? Remember?” Draco wanted to look towards the bed, Harry could tell by the way his eyes flickered, but he resisted, and so Harry went on. “You told me you wanted us to win this war just so you could take me back to London and feed me my favourite ice-cream off your spoon. You told me the only thing you miss about France is how you and your mum really got to know each other properly, and that when she gets back you want to take her for dinner to that little French bistro we went to that time in Edinburgh. I know you remember that, you said the wine was better than anything in the cellar here.” Draco nodded shortly, and almost regretfully pulled his wand away from Harry’s neck. He didn’t move away. “Yes, fair enough, I believe you.” But Harry couldn’t stop, didn’t know how to shut up now he had started. “The last time we were together, you told me that I’m generous with my love. Do you remember that? And I wondered then… because I’d never said it, had I? Not out loud, anyway. Neither of us had. But I thought, maybe— Maybe it meant that you knew.” Draco was staring, his eyes wide and shocked, a blush crawling up his neck, blotchy with heat. Neither of them moved, the silence between them growing until Harry could practically feel it. Draco almost raised his hand to Harry then; Harry sensed the arrested movement, the enforced stillness. He didn’t know what he’d do if Draco touched him. But he didn’t have to find out, because that’s when the knock at the door sounded.

Does anyone have a snippet they'd like to share? Consider yourself tagged and pls tag me so i can see as i've been off tumblr and i miss every single thing on here. And I'll no-pressure-tag @boxboxlewis @citrusses @fluxweeed @maesterchill @moonflower-rose @skeptiquex @sweet-s0rr0w @the-starryknight plus the FrotCotLot.

[cannivalisms]

hi everyone, long time no see! coming back to tumblr with a pitch that one friend rated 12/10, another 15/10, and no one less than a 10 (that i will be mentioning for the purposes of this post).

so basically me and my girlfriend are in our final year as university undergrads, and are fighting for our lives for stuff to put on our cvs / master applications that falls in line with our degree programs and interests (english literature for both). as much as i'd like it to, 'spending well over 80 hours mapping out dnd sessions' for some reason doesn't tend to appeal to employers or admissions offices.

this is where VULTURE CULTURE comes in.

we've laid out the principal tenets on the 'about' page, but a tldr for whoever is interested:

At Vulture Culture, we aim to take the works of people they may not necessarily feel the best about, works that may not otherwise see the light of day, and give them a ‘home.’ We believe that there’s no such thing as a story not worth telling. By not charging submission fees (be so for real) and keeping our guidelines few, we also hope to erode some of the traditional barriers in publishing, and create a more accessible space for all.

in other words, GIVE US YOUR LEFTOVERS.

we are a literary magazine that will accept anything that exists in the mid range of what you love and hate. have you ever wanted to be published but where do you even start? here. are you unsure what to do with that old work that's been sitting in your drafts forever (it's good enough to post, but not good enough to be picked up by anyone of significance)? hi.

our first issue theme is NEW BODIES, and we are just as curious as you to find out what that means. deadline is march 1st, 2024.

come help us be employable or whatever. also in return you get to clear up some draft space and see your name in print. together, love wins 🏆

[sluttywoozi]

Ohh! Could you please do one of those headcanons for Mingyu as well?

soft mingyu goes out drinking with the guys and has a bit too much. they carry him home and the whole time, he's talking about you. where you are, what you're doing, what your job is, what you look like, how much he loves you. he legit won't shut up and by the time they deposit him at your door, they've heard enough to write his wedding vows for him

if he's taller than you, he intentionally puts things on the highest shelves so you can't reach them and you have to ask him to get them

if you're as tall/taller, he just hides them so you have to ask where they are

basically, he likes to be needed

we won't talk about how you know how to climb onto countertops just fine or that you know exactly where everything is and you just like to indulge him

craves validation and affection as much as he gives it, loves to be complimented as much as he loves to compliment you

none of his compliments or praises come with an ulterior motive though, they just come from his big juicy heart (and his tits)

actually likes to be the little spoon, he loves feeling you curled up behind him and your arm over him always makes him feel safe and secure

loves to cook for you, always trying new recipes and asking for your every thought (ahem)

whenever the guys are over he gets super touchy with you, not even in a territorial way, he just gets clingy bc he wants your attention

always wore the headbands and scrunchies you gave him and after he cut his hair, he put them all in a little box on his desk so he wouldn't lose them for when he grows it out again

texts you all the time, like every thought that crosses his mind, just bc he misses you and wants to share his day even if you can't be together

okay i hate to compare him to a dog but like

he lowkey needs to be taken to the park sometimes

like he has a lot of energy and he can't always get rid of it even with your help so you have to take him to the park or to the gym or something

and by take him i mean he doesn't want to go alone

whenever he's out or away and he sees something that makes him think of you, he has to capture it somehow. whether he takes a pic of it and texts it to you or buys it and brings it home, you have to see it

highkey is in love with you and wants everyone to know it, from matching phone cases to putting your last name in his insta handle

and when he proposes, you have a ring for him too

he cries (obviously)

[theloveinc]

deku x reader - succession!au, uhhhhh............... deku has a thought abt parenthood. it's bad.

(warning - short, talk of pregnancy but no actual gender of reader mentioned, mild talk of stds, drugs, sleeping around.... etc.?)

-

“I want a baby,“ your boss, Deku, the near-CEO of media conglomerate AllMightco, says randomly one day, halfway through your lunch break (that he demanded you spend with him), and in the middle of your well-earned silence after a long conversation about whether Bakugo needs antidepressants.

You can only gape at his words, close but not too close to where he’s seated at one of the little armchairs he has in his office for any business casual meetings that require somewhere cozy to sit in spite of any fighting words that may be spit (and for fucking, you’re rather quite aware).

“Maybe it’d be… good for me. I love kids and, I think, I think,” he continues, stuttering like he always does when he’s nervous, excited, high, his tone questioning despite his making of it a statement. “it would give me a break from work?”

All you can do is laugh at the question, dryly, in disbelief, unsure of whether he’s being serious or just sharing some secret, wistful dream. You decide to tell him the truth either way.

“You can’t have a baby just because you want time off.”

He ignores you, though.

“I have all this money, and what for…?” he waves his shaky hands, “I could have a family. I’d change diapers and buy toys and take them to the beach.”

(Though just last week, he was fighting the board for more funds, screaming in that raspy voice he always develops after working through the night that he’d give up any and all vacation time for the foreseeable future if it meant keeping Toshinori Yagi in a position, any position, at the company for the next five years.)

You throw your laptop aside and stand up from your wilted salad and grapefruit soda that’s now sweating on the coffee table to walk around the edges of his desk. You throw a leg over one sharp corner, the exposed part of your ankle brushing his knee as you address him directly.

“And who would be having this child, Deku?“ you ask. “An ex? A surrogate? Ocha—“

He gives you those eyes, slouching down into himself, reaching out to pull your butt of his table and grip the back of your thighs to pull you in between his legs. You can feel the length of his overgrown green curls brushing your fingertips as you put your hands on his stiff shoulders to keep yourself from falling right into him.

“Me? Izuku,” you clarify, (though you always call him Deku), “me? What do you think? I’m just gonna say yes, no warning, no nothing? We’re not even dating, sweetie.”

—and just last week Kirishima offered to drive you to the clinic with him to tested, though you’re not going to bring that up now, even if you know Deku already knows you’re sleeping around. He is too.

He closes his eyes, resting the back of his head against the heavy, red leather of his office chair. The stubble on his face is more noticeable than ever; he even has a little knick under his chin from shaving, and you move to brush your thumb against it as he swallows thickly.

“I’m just tired,” he says, blinking his dark lashes into the bags under his eyes,

“I know, baby. But a child is not way to fix that” you say. The for anyone part, you just think.

Deku pouts. He sighs. Then his face relaxes and he sags, his hands falling off you to lay limp in his lap, the silence in the room stretching like salt water taffy from the pier.

[dracognition]

for the tropes mash-ups, 86 and 100?? please?! (or whatever takes your fancy!)

86: i didn't mean to turn you on + 100: accidentally saving the day send me a trope mash-up!

Really, it only happened because he was on edge about Malfoy touching him so much.

"You are going to a ball hosted by--and I'm not sure if you're aware of this--an actual prince," he said, tapping his wand against Harry's waist to adjust the size of his shirt. "And you're embarrassing the Ministry by dressing like this; I've always said so." His free hand was wrapped around Harry's wrist, apparently to make sure he didn't run, but his grip was firm against his pulse point and unexpectedly warm and all Harry could do to not lunge at him was focus on anything other than his long fingers or the soft curve of his mouth.

So he stared unblinkingly at the ceiling and catalogued sounds: the rustling of his suit as it readjusted itself, the pleased hum Malfoy made when he was satisfied, the soft footsteps padding across the room--

--Wait, Harry thought, and aimed his wand toward the noise. "Stupefy," he said, still staring at the ceiling. He heard a grunt and a thud and felt Malfoy backing away, and after a moment spent collecting himself he followed.

"Oh, hey," he said, peering down at the man he'd just knocked out. "This was the guy who was targeting the prince, wasn't it? That's convenient."

Malfoy's eyes were wide. "You didn't even look," he said. "That--was irresponsible."

"I knew where he'd be," replied Harry defensively, and Malfoy swallowed. He glanced down again, wordlessly cast a Full Body-Bind, and glanced back at Malfoy, who was now staring at him with an expression Harry didn't dare parse. "Er," he said. "D'you reckon we should get going?"

"Threat neutralised," said Malfoy, his voice low and rough. "We could probably just call in and skip the event."

Harry frowned. "But you like those stupid parties."

Malfoy stepped forward, his cool fingers reaching up for Harry's jaw. "I can think of better ways to spend my time," he said, and Harry was about to ask what could possibly be better to him than kissing some prince's arse, but then Malfoy leaned in and kissed him so hard he stumbled back and Harry suddenly wasn't too bothered about the ball either.

[bellaschinchilla]

i've tried to ignore the current toymaker brain rot, i really have

but this weird cunt-serving thing sauntered in, performed a well-choreographed spice girls number, and then left with no further explanation, and somehow i'm supposed to not hyperfixate?

[wolfpants]

saturday wip snip

Thank you for tagging me lovely @tackytigerfic! Check out Tacky's incredible snip here, I am foaming at the mouth (respectfully) for this fic! Here's a little something from my upcoming Drarry fic, Terrible People, aka the Gay Cruise Fic™️ If you haven't already, check out a preview of @getawayfox's art for the fic here!

a bit nsfw

Harry blinks, giving himself permission to remember that exact moment he wandered up to the Tower. It had been a cold winter’s night, and he hadn’t felt like going straight to the common room after dinner. 

“A, er. Handy.”

“Classy.” Draco dips his hand into the bag of crisps. “Were they enjoying themselves?”

Harry’s laugh is weak. “Yeah. I mean. We were eighteen and we’d all just survived a war? I think a nice little congratulatory hand job would have felt fantastic.”

“Hm, well, I wouldn’t have known,” Draco says, looking into his drink. “Not back then, anyway.”

Harry scoffs. “Come on. You’re telling me you didn’t get your tackle tickled at all during Hogwarts?”

Draco makes a face, still looking at the melting ice in his plastic cup, his cheeks flushing scarlet. “Don’t be crass.”

“What?” Harry asks too quickly. The colour on Draco’s cheeks intensifies. He frowns at Harry. “No way,” Harry says. “I thought you and Theodore Nott were shagging all through Eighth Year.” 

“Well I can tell you right now, that is categorically untrue,” Draco says. “He and I were barely friends, let alone—that. We studied together, because we were both interested in… studying. That’s all.”

Harry tries to remember that part. Hanging back in the common room late at night, lounging across the red velvet sofa because it’d been his favourite: the one in front of the windows that looked down onto the Quidditch pitch. Sometimes he’d be with friends, sometimes he’d be alone, sipping Butterbeer or whisky snuck into the castle from the village, the honeyed smell of it tickling his nose, reminding him of Sirius. How he’d just lie there and listen to the radio or Dean’s CD player and stare: at the sky, at classmates playing chess, at the door, waiting for Draco and Theo to return from the library, both of their heads down, their arms full of books because at that point, no one else was carrying them for Draco. At that point, Draco had taken to carrying everything himself.

“I had a lot to reconcile with, in 1998,” Draco says, speaking when Harry doesn’t, pulling him out of memories that are worn and fuzzy around the edges. “I wasn’t really in the mood for casual sex.”

“I think it’s all I wanted,” Harry says.

no pressure tagging @skeptiquewrites @thehoneybeet @kbrick @mintawasalreadytaken @moonflower-rose @shealwaysreads @magpiefngrl @phoebe-delia @nv-md and anyone else who wants to share words!!!

Read another Terrible People Snip here 🍋🏳️��🌈💖

[maesterchill]

Fool for you

Harry Potter is the kind of person who surges into Draco's life in waves. Just last week, Draco was wondering if Potter'd fallen off the face of the Earth, and now here he is, entirely uninvited, entirely naked, in Draco's bedroom, and unashamedly rifling through the bedside drawers.

He hasn't yet noticed Draco standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame and watching him, probably because he's found the third drawer down, and he's eagerly pawing through the contents. It's not like Draco's got a whole sex shop in there or anything, but he does like to keep certain items within arm's reach. 

But Potter, Potter's acting like he just found Aladdins cave, the way he's handling that tentacle dildo like it's the lost bloody sword of Honjō Masamune, oohing and ahhing over the simplest stuff, like the anal beads modelled on the Elder wand, and the Bertie Botts Every Flavour Lube, like it's not something you could easily buy from an owl-order ad in the back of Witch Weekly or any other trashy magazine.

Draco clears his throat; he's expecting Potter to jump, to swear and stammer in embarrassment, to apologise profusely.

Instead, Potter turns to him with his hands full of silicone, his cock at full mast, and a slightly maniacal grin on his face. "Can we?" he asks, his expression smug and dirty, like he already has a master plan, one that Draco couldn't possibly refuse. He seems to think he's got Draco wrapped around his—admittedly talented—little finger.

And honestly, Draco thinks as he catches the lube Potter’s just chucked at him, he’s completely correct. 

Inspired by the @drarrymicrofic prompt 'Linger' (by The Cranberries). Dedicated to mo chara daor @tackytigerfic on their birthday.

[raziraphale]

For a solid ten seconds I didn't register what this was tagged as and thought it was about borderlands. Like are you living in a parallel fucking world like what do you mean you can't find it ??? I don't even want to see it and Yet! lmao

[tackytigerfic]

WIP Snip

Ok so i have mostly finished the long WIP I've been working on for nearly three years. In fact, I'm most of the way through editing the whole thing (all 240k) with only two short scenes left to write. So happy to finally be here! Here's a quick snip of a Hermione POV scene where Draco is helping Harry snd Hermione to escape and she needs to injure him so he looks as though he fought them... it makes sense in-universe i swear.

Draco was still too close to Harry, but Hermione went over to him anyway, arranged him carefully in the dim light so she could be sure that she wouldn’t cause any permanent damage. 

“Hold still,” she instructed him, and raised her wand hand. Draco flinched, then flushed. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I know I’m not very brave about this sort of thing.  I don’t like being at the wrong end of anyone’s wand. Anyway, go on. I’m ready now.”

“Here, let me,” Harry offered, and pushed past Hermione gently. Draco didn’t flinch when Harry lifted his wand, she noticed with irritation, just shook his hair back and smiled brightly. 

“Hello again,” he said to Harry cheerfully, and Harry rolled his eyes fondly and cast with ruthless precision, a vicious Diffindo that tore right through the stupid gauzy shirt Draco was wearing, and opened him up, shallow but nasty-looking, across the meatiest part of his chest, far from any dangerous areas, and then hit him with a quick Incutio that was going to give him a whopper of a shiner. Even weak like this, Harry was terrifying.

“Fucking… ow!” Draco rubbed at his cheekbone resentfully. “Warn a fellow, next time.”

And then from outside they heard the distant rattle of gravel, some angry-sounding voices, and it was all horribly real again. Hermione doused the Lumos instantly, blinking into the blackness, suddenly and newly furious with Harry and his stupid infatuation.

Even now they were whispering to each other, and as her eyes adjusted she could see that Draco had Harry’s face between his hands, and Harry was kissing him, first Draco's mouth and then the palm of each hand, like there was nothing more important in the world.

[risetherivermoon]

small teaser for my 5+1 nick close fic that im almost done with, i love this silly guy, why does he have so much angst potential??

[stop-or-ill-tell]

I hope I marry someone like Lee Uk someday. Hell. I hope to be someone like Lee Uk.

[izzyspussy]

honestly my real opinion on ai is not even from an ethical standpoint. my opinion on ai is that because it isn't actually artificial intelligence that is a misnomer it's not intelligent and it doesn't think it is therefore just plain not good at most of what we're currently using it for outside of like hyperspecific applications that i know nothing about and never will. it simply can't do the job man.

[wyrmlair]

just finished reading this and what can i say but wow... such a truly beautiful story. would highly recommend to anyone that loves crying, sobbing, wailing, being sad, depressed, sorrowful, miserable, grief-stricken, heart-broken, agonized, desolated, inconsolable,