#yall got two wip snippets for the price of one

[blacknifealecto]

🤡🤩🤲🏼

kisses u

What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

i sicko giggle at my work all the time but for actual chuckle and not "oh man the sickos are gonna LOVE THIS" giggles

“Whatever,” Laura said with a huff, “you’ve got bacne anyway.” She took another drag from her cigarette as the two of them walked along the railroad tracks, silent this time of day.

this little bit from my (still unfinished) big deanlaura fic makes me giggle just to giggle

Who is your favorite character to write?

dean winchester lmfao i literally love writing him so much thats my baby thats my princess

Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

gonna grab from my lothric/gale/astarion for this bc i am sick for my durge

“I know you asked me,” Lothric said softly, “who I’d taste from if I were like you. But you never said who you preferred.” Astarion scoffed, his fingers stilling, “You, obviously. As I’ve done every night since then.” He pressed a small kiss to the side of Lothric’s neck, the skin just barely scarred from the repeat feedings. “Besides me, I mean. Don’t pretend you haven’t considered it, save us both the time.” He could feel Astarion pick the braid apart as he waited for an answer. “I thought I agreed with what you said, whoever you preferred.” “You’re stalling, dearest. Answer my question, if you had to pick someone else in our camp to drink from, who?” Lothric couldn’t help but get impatient with him, he knew full well the life Astarion had lived, knew that much of the day their thoughts were both on the blood they were spilling. No point in being stupidly coy about the matter. Astarion hummed and shifted in his seat, looking around the camp before turning back to Lothric. “I still agree with you. Gale. I’ve barely gotten a whiff on the road but he smells,” he sighed wistfully, “fascinating. His blood is- it’s different.” “Shall we see if he’ll let you?” Lothric leaned in to nuzzle Astarion’s jaw, his gaze on Gale across the fire.  Astarion’s brows shot up, then furrowed as he contemplated. “Do you- do you think he would? I know he’s an academic but even posited as research I-” “I think he’s a lot less unwilling than you may guess, lover.” Lothric saw the way Gale watched him, watched them. The way he sighed softly to himself and fiddled with his earring, the symbol of his own former flame. The way he slept, curled amongst enough pillows that it would be hard for any man to feel as though he was sleeping alone. Lothric’s past may have been a grey fog, tinged with blood, but he could pick out loneliness on someone at a hundred paces in the dark.

fic author questions