#for me a ficlet is under 1000 words
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5x05 ficlet
cw major character death (u already know 😭)
They had left off on a bad note.
It wasn't as though they argued often - the rare occasions that they did, they did what they found worked best. They left each other alone, with enough time and space to cool off, before returning to talk it out.
It had never failed them.
Roseburh could not even remember what they had last argued about, it was that insignificant - and after two months, she would hardly be expected to.
She only saw it as unfortunate that they had fought just before her departure to Winchester, to visit her widowed sister Rowena. With two children and no husband, not after the siege there a decade ago, Roseburh felt that a visit was due.
After all, they would surely bury the hatchet on her return.
The journey back to Rumcofa was one filled with anticipation. Roseburh had missed him deeply, wanting nothing more than to finally reunite with him and ensure nothing got in their way again.
Only four or five miles from the town, she came across Ingrith and Cynlaef who, strangely, did not look happy to see her.
"I have missed you so much!" she beamed, dismounting her horse. Her smile faded when Ingrith only reluctantly did the same.
Cynlaef could not even bring himself to look at her, let alone dismount.
"Are you both alright?" she asked, frowning slightly when she received no reply. "Is - is something wrong?"
"Rose-" began Ingrith, and that was when Roseburh noticed the cart Cynlaef had been driving.
"What's - where are you going with that?" she asked. Her concern only rose when Cynlaef squeezed his eyes shut.
"Winchester," Ingrith said softly. "Rose... perhaps you should come with us."
Roseburh could not understand why they were behaving this way. She looked desperately between them, cursing their lack of explanation. "But I was just there! Tell me what is going on!" she pleaded. "Has - has something happened in Rumcofa?"
Tears were pooling in Ingrith's eyes; Cynlaef was looking down, hiding his face from her, but his shoulders were trembling.
Ingrith spared the cart a brief glance. "Edward's men," she said, her voice thick with grief, "they - they attacked Rumcofa two days ago. There were too many to hold off-"
"Edward's men?" Roseburh repeated in shock. "I don't understand, why would he-?"
"I do not know," Ingrith said sadly. "We tried to hold them off, we did, but... it became a massacre."
Horrified, she pulled Ingrith into a hug, the two of them holding on for a long moment. Eventually she pulled away, the most pressing question at the forefront of her mind.
"Rose," Ingrith began, taking a shuddering breath, "Osferth fought bravely to protect Rumcofa. He-"
"He is what?" Roseburh demanded at once, panic seizing her heart. It couldn't be, it couldn't-
"He is gone," Cynlaef choked out, finally raising his head. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, and they fearfully met her own.
Her breaths were coming quick and shallow, her heartbeat accelerating - she couldn't believe it, she wouldn't -
"No," she said automatically, "he is not. He is not, he is not!"
"Rose-"
"He cannot be gone!" Roseburh shouted, her voice breaking. "He is injured, no more! The healers cannot have given up on him so easily-"
But even as she spoke, she knew the worst to be true, and she could hardly bear it.
"There was nothing anyone could do," Ingrith said desperately, taking ahold of her shoulders to steady her. "He is with his God now, he is happy."
Roseburh sobbed into her shoulder, hardly feeling Ingrith's hand stroking her hair as she came to terms with what had passed.
"We never reconciled," she wept, "we argued about something so stupid and pointless and meaningless and now he is not here-"
"He wanted us to tell you he forgave you," Cynlaef said shakily, finally dismounting his horse to approach them. "And that he hoped you could forgive him too, that he loved you and he always would."
Her already-broken heart shattered a little more at his words, though they provided her with the closure she needed. "Thank you," she murmured, hugging him too. He held on tightly, the three of them finding comfort in each other for a few moments.
"He is here, isn't he?" Roseburh said softly, gazing at the cart.
Cynlaef nodded. "We are taking him back to the place of his birth."
"To be with his mother and his uncle." She smiled a little, in spite of her sorrow. "You both have a kind heart."
Ingrith squeezed her hand. "Will you accompany us?"
"I will, of course I will."
Roughly she wiped her tears and mounted her horse. "Is everyone else safe?" she asked in a small voice. Losing Osferth had already torn a hole in her heart, one that would never be filled again. She could not bear it if she lost her friends and family too.
"They are," Cynlaef assured her. "We have left them with the other survivors for now. Eadwin is being protected, I have made sure of it."
"Thank you," Roseburh shakily exhaled. "I will take him back to Winchester with me after we leave Rumcofa for good."
Tightly, she gripped the reins to steady herself as they set off.
The journey back was quiet, allowing her to grieve him in peace. She could not bring herself to say a word more than what was necessary, for fear of breaking down - she could not allow herself to fall apart.
Roseburh forced herself to recognise that she would never hear his laughter, never see his smile, never feel his arms around her ever again, not in this life.
All she had left was his mother's old necklace, itself the only memory of Eadgyth he had had. It was little more than a piece of string with a little wooden cross attached, but she cherished it above all else.
Lifting it to her lips, she pressed a gentle kiss to it and sent a prayer up to wherever he was.
He is happy, she continuously reminded herself, as a way of keeping herself together more than anything. He is safe.
Religion dictated that there was eternal life after death - Roseburh's own faith had wavered countless times, as had Osferth's, but now she clung fiercely to the hope it gave her of reuniting with him someday.
Until then, she would learn to live again. She would give herself a new start in Winchester with her brother and her friends. And when Uhtred would eventually take Bebbanburg, she would remain in the south, to move on from the life she had once lived.
And when she would die, her brother would bury her beside the man she had loved, both in life and in death.
#the last kingdom#osferth#i will give them a happy ending in lasw so see this as like. the reversed ending fjsjfjg#anyways i hope this was alright<33#idk if this actually counts as a ficlet#bc its like under 1000 words right#i didnt count so idk#but for the purposes of this i will call it that#angst#osferth x oc#tbh at first i was like hm. should she go to bebbanburg at the end#and then i was like well her family is down south and if it were me id wanna live w them n visit my mans grave so#plus#itd probably be upsetting to be reminded all the time up there#like she'd visit but she wouldn't Move imo
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Otis B. Driftwood X F. Reader - Migraine (Explicit 18+ ficlet)
Fandom: House of 1000 Corpses,
Pairing: Otis B. Driftwood x Reader
Warnings: Period/Blood, Menstruation Kink, Migraine!Reader, Headache!Reader. Dub-con situation, Dom/Sub tones, Explicit Smut, 18+ material, Dark Romance stuff.
One-shot/Ficlet/Drabble written on a whim for my dear @myers-meadow 💜Hopefully this will elevate some of your pain.
Otis B Driftwood x Reader -> Headache.
The ache was incredibly bad today. The blinding light was too bright for your eyes, the sounds the other family members made were too loud for your ears, and the smell of the decaying bodies was too putrid for your sensitive nose.
You rolled over in the bed, curtains drawn so you basked in a peaceful silent darkness. A breath of relief escaped your lips. Your arm was drawn over your head, elevating some of the pain you felt like a band around your forehead, pushing against your temples, stabbing into your skull on occasion.
All you wished for was a little peace and quiet. A wish that was denied when Otis came barging in under loud noises. The soles of his boots creaked, his clothes rustled, the gun in his hands clicked and he was cursing. None of it quiet.
He was followed by Baby who wasn’t nearly as loud, but neither was she quiet. She chuckled as she came to stand in the doorway and observed you. “Bloody dark,” you heard Otis say, then flinched when he switched the light on. You drew your arm even tighter over your face, covering your eyes which you squeezed shut tight.
“I need some goddamn release, babe,” you heard him say. Then felt how his hands were upon your thighs, prying them apart until he pushed himself roughly in between them. “Open up those pretty eyes, sweet cheeks.”
When you refused, you felt his grip falter. “Open up, sweetpie,” he tried again, his voice growing darker. Like a warning.
You heard a huff, then felt his grip on you tighten.
Behind Otis, you heard Baby push herself away from the doorpost. “She ain’t into it, Otis,” she said. You heard her footsteps and the sound of her voice coming nearer to you.
“What’s wrong?” Otis asked, but it was met with silence. “Is she broken or something?” Must be to Baby. “Are you broken?” Otis asked gruffly, this time obviously to you. You felt a slap against your inner thigh, then felt how he moved out from between your legs with a growl.
“Let me guess,” Baby said, her sweet voice near your ear. She must be leaning forward to you, you guessed, for you felt her hot breath roll against your ear. “You’re having a headache,” here she hesitated to give you a once-over, then licked her lips. “And you’re on your period.”
You grunted, and Baby straightened again with a smile. “See!” she said, sounding way too happy. “I am a real people person!” Yeah, when those people are toys you can play with or dead, you thought grumpily.
But the fact was, you were suffering from a really nasty migraine attack. It had crawled upon you all too slowly, and yet you hadn’t noticed it had until it was there. Your head hurt, it throbbed and was pierced all at once. Your tummy hurt, your abdomen squeezing painfully while the first of your monthly blood was violently brought forth. Really nothing was pleasant about this situation. You felt tired, angry, sick. Moody to a point you didn’t even want to meet yourself at this stage. Could they not fuck off and leave you here to die?
Well, not really die, but… You felt horrible, and not at all in the mood for anything. You just wanted to lie there until the pain inside your head faded and the ache in your belly subsided.
“Then we can fuck in the dark,” Otis said, the words instantly followed by the clicking of the light switch. Darkness surrounded you once more. You heard Baby click her tongue, probably shaking her head.
“Yeah, you do whatever,” you heard her say. “I’m off to my own room. Come join me if you want some daylight fun.” Then she was gone.
The bed dipped again as Otis came to sit over you, a knee pressed at either side. He dipped his head forth. Warm hands grabbed your wrists, pulling them away from your face until your arms were trapped above your head. You felt how his long hair tickled your skin before his warm lips were placed over yours, capturing them in a kiss.
So he was truly doing this? You gasped once the kiss broke and opened your eyes to stare up at him in the darkness the room provided. The vague outline of his shape was visible, like an angry grey silhouette that moved in the dark. Only, his shape was filled with colorful blocks, little colored lights that your head filled in despite the darkness. A method of torture, you were sure. A reason you hated to have headaches like these. Even with the lights out, your eyes still managed to hurt, and in effect, so did your head.
“You’d better not be fucking with me,” the angry growl came from above you, where Otis sat up to take off his top. You could hear him unzip his pants before his hands sought yours to unzip them as well. He started to tug them down your hips. “If this headache stuff is just bullshit,” he warned you.
“It’s real,” you croaked, then flinched as you tried to look at him. “I wouldn’t fake-“ you flinched again, then tried to wiggle when you noticed he was trying to take your underpants down. The attempt was miserable. Your hips hardly moved. Your head spun too wildly to coordinate your body.
Then you felt how his hand came to rest between your thighs, pushing them apart. A slap of his palm against your bare cunt alerted you that he had succeeded in taking your pants off. A growl escaped your lips as you arched your back again. A finger slid roughly into your slit, pressing deep until you felt his knuckle. His nail scraped past your sensitive walls that instantly fluttered around the digit, earning you a rough laugh. “Not want this, eh?” you heard Otis say. “Liar.”
You gasped again, arching your back. A wet squelch was heard when he retracted his finger till only the tip was inside, then he pushed in again.
“I said no,” you gasped, breathlessly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m bleeding.”
“So?”
That caught you speechless. Because indeed. So? So what? Why wasn’t he bothered by it?
And then you reminded yourself who you were dealing with here. If anyone wouldn’t be repulsed by blood, it would be this artistic murderer. While you were still in a daze, he kneeled between your legs. A sinful sound came from your cunt when his lips engulfed your sensitive bud. You felt his lips upon you, joining his finger while he pumped, eagerly suckling your clit and licking your cunt. as if he were hungry for your blood. You gasped, this time in pleasure, then you moved your arms down until your hands came to rest on the top of his head. Your fingers curled in the strands there before tightening and pulling him closer, effectively forcing him to slobber and suck and nip at your aching cunt until you had your fill.
He lapped at you eagerly, desperate for the nectar that spilled from your core. Slick mingled with blood. Your womb clamped painfully inside of you, but the pleasure was making the sensation more and more bearable until you’d forgotten your period pain completely.
You were moaning, guiding Otis up and down and closer. His nose against your pussy lips while his tongue dove in deep. His finger was joined by another. The two thick digits curled and twisted inside of you. And then, when he considered you ready enough for him, he jerked from your grip and sat up between you.
He propped your legs up and over his shoulders and nearly folded you in half as he bent over you. The tip of his hard cock, throbbing and dripping pre-cum, pressed against your opening, then slid in without little resistance. Both of you cried out in tandem while you felt him bottom out. A growl escaped Otis, and you saw the white glint of his gritted teeth in the dark.
Otis’s hands were upon your arms, gripping you while he set a steady pace. Slick sounds filled the room while you shortly worried about staining the bed. A stupid notion, you thought. The bed had been stained by the blood of so many others before you.
Otis was a murderer after all. An Artist. A lover of gore.
No wonder he took you with such fervor while your blood spread across his shaft. Your pussy was sensitive, more than you remembered it to have ever been before. It pulsed around his shaft, milking him, begging for each and everything he could give.
You heard how it affected him. How his low grunts and husky curses became more passionate and more desperate with each thrust and with each pull of your cunt. All too soon, he had you arching your back in pleasure while an orgasm washed over you. Your nipples peeked against your shirt, your cunt clenched down tight. And still he kept thrusting.
“Fuck,” he groaned. It took him more effort to enter you when you clamped down on him like a vice. He had to forcibly pull back his cock and slam it in again, time after time, until the head of his cock hit a pleasurable spot deep inside and your walls started to flutter again.
Your toes curled with delight. He fucked you through your first orgasm, and onto the next. You bit your lip to keep from crying out, but he was thrusting mercilessly, pounding you deep and hard, battering that sweet spot deep inside of your cunt until you saw stars again. This time not from the migraine. These were the stars of horny pleasure. Stars of eroticism. Of sheer luck.
Of him giving you his essence.
Because you felt it. Felt how his hips stuttered and how his warm cum shot deep inside. You heard his hoarse yell, the obscenities he uttered while his hands sought your face and cupped your cheeks.
Then you felt how his lips captured yours in a kiss. His hips pressed tight against yours, his softening cockhead nudging your cervix with the last spasms of his orgasm. Then he slid out.
“Fuck, I think I’ve found a new favorite pastime,” Otis said while he sat up and ran a hand through his hair. You squinted your eyes when he clicked on the bedside lamp, and quickly hid your face behind your arms again. Okay, so the migraine hadn’t gone away. But the pain in your lower region had been replaced by the soft tingling of your afterglow. That was an improvement.
You watched through half-lidded eyes how Otis smirked down at you. He was still undressed, pants tucked to his ankles while yours were discarded halfway across the room. Then he bent over and dipped a finger into a pool of juices that stained the sheets. You watched, mesmerized, as he lifted his finger. He held it in front of his eyes to study it. The bright red blood glinted in the light of the lamp.
Then his eyes turned to you, a similar glint within them, while a smile spread on his lips. “Oh, we’re definitely gonna do this again, pumpkin.” You parted your lips to protest, but he saw the attempt and quickly interfered. “Na-ah,” he tusked you patronizingly so. “Need I remind you? You’re mine.”
And then he was upon you again. His lips ravishing yours in a fiery kiss. Besotted with twisted love and hungry for more of your blood.
He was inside of you before you could protest. And you knew, your life would never be the same again.
#Otis Driftwood x Reader#Otis driftwood x you#Otis B driftwood#Otis Driftwood#house of a 1000 corpses#the devil's rejects#rob zombie#I wanna star in your next movie but you'll never read that tag and I don't mind#Otis B. Driftwood x Reader#Otis B Driftwood x Reader#Otis x you#Otis x Reader#Reader insert#Slasher x Reader#Reader x Villain#Reader x Otis B Driftwood
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Holiday Bingo 2023
That's right besties! It's that time of year again!
And in an attempt to keep y'all entertained with your favourite blorbos, I'm hosting this bingo so we can all share our creations and you have something to fixate on while I'm busy as hell at work!
As per usual:
Submissions can be anything! A mood board, a ficlet, headcanons, drabble, gif sets, one shots, social media au's, make it a mini series following the holiday journey of the same two characters! literally whatever you want!
Prompts are all winter/holiday themed. If it specifically says "Christmas" it does not need to be Christmas, it can be whatever holiday this time of year that you want!
Read the rest of the rules under the cut!
Prompts can be made into any genre, make it super spicy, make it tooth rottingly sweet, make it angsty as all hell and break our hearts, make it a wild AU, do whatever you want with them as long as they are what inspired your story. (aka "first snowfall" could be the first time character a is seeing snow, it could be the first snow of the year, it could be the characters baby's/dog's first time seeing snow. It can be cute, catching snow flakes on tongues or sad, bringing back memories with a friend who has passed. Literally whatever you want.) Just make sure to include any and all appropriate warnings/tags at the TOP of the post and I don't want to see any TikTok censoring of words!
Fics can be a ship, a reader insert, an OC, or any kind of crossover! Mix and match, stick with one, try out a new character or fandom!
Accepted Fandoms:
Literally everything and everyone. This is wide open to any and every fandom/show/movie that you want, it's free game besties! It doesn't matter if I write/read that fandom, do what you would like!
Some Inspiration:
-Law and Order (OG, OC, SVU)
-Criminal Minds
-Marvel
-NCIS
-One Chicago
-Abbott Elementary
-Mayans
-Grey's Anatomy/Private Practice
-911/Lonestar
-OUAT
-The L Word
-Wednesday
Rules:
You MUST tag me @storiesofsvu and use the hashtag #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023 on each creation and I'll put together the masterlist.
Bingo begins on November 25th and will run all the way to January 20th.
You may only post/submit ONE creation per day!
Only one bingo square per creation
No underage characters involved in relations.
Tag all and every warning appropriately at the top of the fic
Anything over 1000 words must be under a readmore!
Everyone is welcomed and encouraged to participate! You do not need to be following me, we don't need to be mutuals, if you see this post and want to play, let's go!
If anyone has questions, feel free to comment or send me a message/ask!
Some playlists to get us in the mood:
________________
tagging some people who might be interested? (if you got tagged and have no idea who i am/where this came from it is likely that i have read your stuff and loved it/have some bookmarked on my to bed read lol. feel free to ignore.)
@prentiss-theorem @swimmingstudentchaos891 @rustyzebra @plaidbooks @thatesqcrush @adarafaelbarba @detective-giggles @mickey-gomez @alexusonfire @bumblebear30 @tropes-and-tales @unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix @beccabarba @prurientpuddlejumper @fighterkimburgess @baubeautyandthegeek @melk917 @blackbird-brewster @virescent-v @leftoverenvy @iamnotoriginalphil @happenstnces @daddy-heather-dunbar @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @five-bi-five-main @thehauntingofbasingse @supercriminalbean @h0tch-r0cket @bullet-prooflove @boldlyvoid @astrophileous @slutforsilverfoxes @cissyenthusiast010155 @hotchs-bitch @honeypiehotchner @whiteberryx @v3nusxsky
#law and order svu#criminal minds#ncis#marvel#mcu#abbott elementary#wednesday#wednesday netflix#grey's anatomy#writing bingo#law and order#one chicago#911#911 lonestar#mayans mc#stranger things#wanda maximoff#olivia benson#larissa weems#aaron hotchner#emily prentiss#melissa schemmenti#Spotify#storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023
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🪩 Ok, I desperately need a Billy letter. Maybe it’s like a love confession and he has to write it down because every time he’s tried to say it, he can’t get it out ‘cause he’s still in the mindset of emotions being bad/“girly.” Maybe you could turn this into a ficlet (I forget what the emoji is) and maybe after you read it, you tell him you love him too and he gets so excited/relieved and he’s like “I fuckin’ love you so much.”😁😁
That was longer than I thought it’d be.
slumber party shenanigans
billy hargrove x gn!reader
a/n: sweetheart!! my love!! my dearest!! this is so sweet. and it’s totally okay that it ended up being a little longer. i tried to capture him the best i could in this way. i really hope you’re happy with it <333
————
🪩 you want me to paint your nails?— i’ll write you a mock love letter from the character of your choice. just give me a little something for them to write to you about! this one will be very new for me to try and i won’t make them terribly long, but i hope they might turn out sweet.
🖋️ want another blanket?—i will write you a little ficlet (under 1000 words) for the character of your choice. i would appreciate if you’d specify whether you want comfort/fluff/angst/whatever and i will try and come up with something for you!
Last night, he said fuck it. He was overwhelmed with everything he was feeling. Everything he was feeling for you. Everything he feels for you.
He’d been afraid he wouldn’t remember all of this come morning, or whenever else he attempted to tell you. So he rummaged around in his bag for paper, because he swore he fucking had some, and he stole a pen from Max.
Billy settled on the floor, back resting against the foot of his bed, and got to writing.
He kept having to take breaks though, or blink really hard, or shake his head. Sometimes squeeze his nails against his palm. Anything to stop that voice in his head.
You’re a pussy, feeling like this over some chick. She’s just going to break your heart. She doesn’t care about you. Even if she does, you don’t deserve her. You’re a piece of shit.
Enough, he’d tell himself, and he’d keep going.
The next morning, Billy gives you the letter he’s written in the car.
“Read this. Don’t look at me, or I’ll probably fucking throw up. Actually, you stay here. I’ll wait outside.”
Billy pushes his door open, and paces around within a few feet of the Camaro, waiting for you to read what he’s written for you. It feels like he’s laid out on a table, like you’re looking at his guts.
He hates this. He fucking hates it.
You unfold the notebook paper Billy’s given you, eyes dancing around the page. You love his handwriting. It’s one of your favorite things about him. He writes small, all of his letters in lowercase. Except when he writes his name, where in that case he capitalizes as he should, but the B and the H are always oversized and signature-esque. He does the same when writes your name.
You decide to hurry up and read the damn thing. He’s already nervous enough.
Y/n
i’ve been trying to say this for weeks. fucking weeks. but every time i try, it’s like he’s watching me. and i can’t. but this doesn’t have shit to do with him. it has to do with you and me.
i’m in love with you. i love you. there. damn.
you’re the best thing that’s every happened to me, and i know it’s cheesy, but i don’t give a shit. because i know i’m an asshole. but somehow you’ve found a way to help me be less of one, and you care about me. you look at me like i’m fucking magical or something.
you’re so sweet to Max, and you help her with stuff i don’t really understand. you help me work out things i don’t understand. you’re such a smartass. and you’re so gorgeous. there’s so much more, but i’m drawing a blank because of course i am. i’ll tell you later.
i love you. i love you, Y/n.
Billy
You take a deep breath and fold the paper back up, before getting out of the car. Billy things something’s wrong.
You round the side of the Camaro and walk straight up to him. You throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him into a hug. Billy relaxes in your hold almost immediately, body molding against yours.
You pull back enough to take his face in your hands. His cheeks are warm and red.
“Billy. I love you too.”
He presses his forehead against yours, a breath of a laugh leaving him.
“Don’t fuck with me.” He squeezes your side.
“I’m not fucking with you.”
Billy abruptly lets you go. He shakes his head like he doesn’t believe this.
“Are you sure? You’re being dead-fucking-serious with me right now?”
You nod. “I’m positive. I’m being dead-fucking-serious with you right now.”
Billy moves closer to you again, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips. He tastes like cigarettes and fruity gum. You try to pull away for breath, but he doesn’t let you. He kisses you once, twice more.
The smile on his face is one of the ones you only ever get to see. It’s bright and happy and beautiful. “I fuckin’ love you so much,” Billy tells you.
He falters, though, immediately after that. “Wait, you’re not mad, are you? That I had to write it down first?”
You don’t break eye contact with him. “No! Of course not Billy. I just want you to be comfortable.” You smile at him and kiss the tip of his nose. He wrinkles it at you and tries to push away.
You slip your hands into his hair. “I love you, Billy.”
He’s smiling again. “I love you more.”
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x gn!reader#billy hargrove x gender neutral reader#bookshelf-dust’s 500 follower celebration#bookshelf-dust’s slumber party
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My love for outsider pov is no secret (watch me prompt it everywhere I can), so I figured it was about time to put my favourite fics together in a rec list. Please enjoy these incredible works and join me in squealing with delight about the immensely talented authors who pull this genre off so brilliantly.
👀
the shape of your soul (fits mine) by @drarrymybeloved (G, 754 words)
Summary: Harry visits the Mirror of Erised as an adult.
🤍 Rec: A masterclass in short form and outsider pov, this story feels like 50k when it squeezes all the emotions out of us in under 1000 words. Love!
👀
Madam Malkin’s (Selected) Inventory Notes by @tepre (T, 1k)
Summary: Madam Malkin is extremely diligent when it comes to her inventory notes. For tax purposes only!!!
🤍 Rec: Hilarious and so clever! I’m in awe of how much Harry and Draco’s personalities shine through the notes. An all-time fave!
👀
Aftermath of an Accidental Bond by @the-starryknight (T, 1k)
Summary: When you took the Mungo's third shift, you knew there would be weird shit. You just didn't expect to find the most recognizable face in the Wizarding world shoved into a hospital cot beside Draco Malfoy.
🤍 Rec: An utter delight of a premise, executed to perfection. I couldn't stop smiling!
👀
press play by @softlystarstruck (T, 5k)
Summary: The VHS tape titled "Harry + Friends Draco '00 – '01.Or: a home-made movie that captures love in five scenes.
🤍 Rec: The softest, most domestic pining, creatively terrible insults, and a format that makes this fic incredibly atmospheric.
👀
He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not by @sleepstxtic (T, 6k)
Summary: Astoria watches her husband fall in love with Harry Potter.
🤍 Rec: A gorgeous and devastating story with a perfect Astoria you will fall in love with. Heartbreak unavoidable!
👀
Maelstrom, the water told me by @onbeinganangel (E, 11k)
Summary: Maelstrom (noun, /ˈmeɪl.strɒm/, from the Dutch maalstroom):
1. a large powerful whirlpool
2. a turbulent tidal current
3. an agitated and/or confusing situation or state of mind
4. a magical core disturbance occurring on an adult, not directly caused by trauma
🤍 Rec: A tender story about love and care, with a pov so magical it feels like a fairytale.
👀
Tumblr bonus: An extra scene from A Room Up There (And You In It) by @the-starryknight
🤍 Rec: While this ficlet is a follow-up to a bigger story, you don’t actually need to have read it (although, why wouldn’t you?) to appreciate how perfect and happy it is. I think about this one all the time.
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✨ Fic Writing Review 2023 ✨
tagged by the love @dear-massacre uwu
Words and Fics
According to AO3: 295,177 words posted, however, I did a lot of art for events this year, so this number isn't wholly accurate.
I actually wrote and posted 122,354 which is actually WAY more than I thought I did?
1 fandom represented: Teen Wolf (but I'm a multi-shipper, so many ships hehe)
Most Recent Drop: TECHNICALLY mu submissions to @sterekreversechallenges's past participant server event, 1000 Cakes, but the work featured is still anonymous, so I can't count it here.
Most Recent Drop (readable): 'My Whole Life is a Reference to the 1995 Hit Movie Clueless and I Still Don't Know the Plot' by Fall Out Boy (Stackson, T, 2k)
Longest Fic according to my stats page: Yoda Said It Best by @okdeannawrites (Sterek, E, 99k+) (I did the illustrations)
Longest Fic I actually wrote: Under My Skin (Stackson, E, 59k+)
Top Fics by Kudos (I'm including 6 because 1 of my top 5 isn't mine lol)
Grandma, What a Big Dick You Have! (the better to fuck you with my dear) (Sterek, E, 5k+)
Yoda Said It Best (Not my fic) (Sterek, E, 99k+)
Higher Education (you can confess when you're stone-cold sober) (Sciles, E, 6k+)
Under My Skin (Stackson, E, 59k+)
Daisies and Daffodils (You Make Me Smile) (Sterek, T, 3k+)
Thirsty (Stiles/Scott/Derek, M, <2k)
My fandom fic events in 2023
I THRIVE on events. They've been absolutely integral to my ability to write fic this year, and I'm really proud of what I've done. That said - I absolutely participated in WAY too many. There are a number of fics that I was involved with that don't show up in my ao3 stats and that's okay! I'ma just... list them out akdjhgk
7 fics (or 13,394 words) this year were posted for the Stiles Shipping Server's monthly ficlet exchange.
2 fics and 4ish art pieces were done for the @stacksonreversebang
1 fic was written for the Sterek VDay Exchange, but my participation was revoked.
1 art was posted for @stetervalentines2023
3 arts and 1 podfic were posted for the @steter-bang
1 fic was posted for the @teenwolfminibang
1 art was posted for the @teenwolfminibang
1 item was posted for the @sterekreversechallenges 1000 cakes event
2 Major arts and uh at least 4 minors arts were posted for the @wipbigbang
1 fic (and my longest solo fic ever) was written for the @wipbigbang
1 art which is not currently posted but will be revealed by the end of the year is for the @stereksecretsanta
Upcoming Events and Projects for 2024
The first thing that's going to be 'posted' is the Sterek Reverse Challenges 1000 Cakes anonymous work, which will be revealed Jan 6th.
Events:
Stiles Shipping Server monthly ficlet exchange - many more months will be participated in again
@sterekposevents - probably gonna write smth for this next year (stares forlornly at my unfinished summer wip)
If the Stackson Reverse Bang runs again, I will absolutely participate in that, but i will definitely not commit to 4 projects!!!!
Absolutely the next go around for Sterek Reverse Challenges!!! I love reverse bangs (and bang in general)
If I do the Steter bang again I will not sign up for as many projects because I did too much all at once and it was stressful.
I will likely participate in at least 1 vday event and at least 1 santa event. (:
There is one event I will definitely be participating in but the event itself has not been announced yet so I won't talk about it... publicly. If you're into Sterek and Events you can DM me for Spoilers though~ ;*
Projects:
Addabge Dmaddiage - Sterek MedFantasy Omegaverse Arranged Married Dark-ish fic. Currently Writing
Higher Education 2: Electric Boogaloo - I already have over 2k written, I just need to finish it.
Vampire!Stiles Sterek fic, which I will hopefully be doing for one of the events
Stackson MedFantasy Bastard Prince x Freedom Fighter AU
New! Sex for Work - Sterek office sex AU: Next chapter and/or Rewrite and/or Finish (low priority)
Sciles in Ancient Greece - this is possibly more of a long form poem than fic? We'll see how it goes ? low priority
Rules, Tags & Rambling below the cut!
I technically have a massive list of WIPs and Prompts I am constantly working from. I pick the ideas when they feel happy in my brain for "free time" writing - I actually meant to work on the office sex AU for the month of december but got whacked upside the head with Addabge Dmaddiage. UMS was my FIRST "long fic" ever so I am... feeling really, really invigorated.
in 2021 I climbed out of my writing hole where I hadn't written seriously in over a decade. That year, I wrote and shared 22,418 words by myself, and wrote half of a 69,599 (incomplete, part 1) role-play fic with a friend. At the start of 2022, I watched teen wolf for the first time because @sinnabon-cosplay is a menace and can't be stopped. It lit an absolute FIRE beneath me and I lost all control of my life. I started writing and drawing with a wholly renewed fury. I started doing way more events and wrote and posted 40,247 words. At the end of the year, I thought to myself - wow, wouldn't it be cool if i doubled my word count again? 80k? haha, that probably won't happen though. I'll be excited if I write and post 60k.
YALL. I wrote and posted 60k in ONE FIC. I wrote and posted over 120k?????? that's INSANE to me. I haven't had that much drive to create since I was in high school.
Teen Wolf is like... fixing my brain chemistry. I feel so invigorated.
Despite some setbacks with some REALLY unfortunate Sterek fans at the start of my experience here nearly tanking my creative drive, I've managed to stay on track without totally losing my love for the ship because of some rotten eggs. Shoutout to all my homies keeping the space worth hanging around in. I appreciate yall so much <3
Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.
Tags: No pressure ANY time from me, i love you I appreciate you I like sharing with you. Don't wanna play, don't worry about it <3 @clotpolesonly @lucky-bishop @adrianfridge @sinnabon-cosplay @okdeannawrites @foofsterwolf (Sorry i panicked and couldn't remember if u posted FIC on ur main or just original so i tagged ur TW even tho this doesnt have to be TW related) @just-another-busy-fangirl-writes @lavender-lotion
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I guess it's time for a...
fic masterlist?
~the polished stuff~
[actual edited fics, posted to AO3]
because my fics are locked, you will need an AO3 account to read them. if you need an invite feel free to DM me!
what's in a name? (E, 9300 words)
photographer Hob is on a road trip in California when he meets a mysterious stranger (Dream) in a diner | human AU, strangers to lovers
A Love Story (T, 23000 words)
Hob is a voiceover actor, struggling to make ends meet; Morpheus is a literary novelist with a secret | Centennial Husbands Big Bang, human AU, getting together, rom com
Stormy Weather, or: Outside, the Wind (Inside, the Light) (T, 1600 words)
Hob and Dream are having a movie night when the power goes out | first kiss, gratuitous use of archaic English
A Close Shave (G, 2150 words)
retired and newly human, Dream needs a shave. Hob helps him and has a lot of feelings about it | gen, tooth-rotting fluff
would you go along with someone like me? (T, 1500 words)
the 'omg they were roommates' college AU; Hob is a history major, Morpheus is studying poetry, and it's a very tiny dorm room | WIP, getting together, rating will go up
'cause every Dreamlord's crazy 'bout a sharp-dressed man (E, 4400 words)
chapter two now up! | Dream enjoys Hob in formalwear at a fundraising gala, and Hob out of formalwear after the gala | established relationship, lovingly described tuxedo
it's warm, the skin I'm living in (E, 2400 words)
the one with shapeshifting sex and emotional conversations about Dream's insecurities | established relationship, brief tentacle sex, Dream can have a vulva if he wants
Among the Stars We are Reborn (T, 5400 words)
the one where Hob goes to space to look for a phoenix | sci fi, canon divergent, established relationship
First Time (E, 6000 words)
after another bad breakup, Johanna encourages Morpheus to hook up with some dudes. Hob is only too happy to help with that | human AU, strangers to lovers
I'm stuck on you (I'm mighty glad you stayed) (M, 8700 words)
Hob and Morpheus are stuck on an elevator | human AU, strangers to lovers
Headache (T, 3700 words)
the one where Hob has a migraine and Dream ogles him in the bath | first kiss, getting together
Bleach (G, 1000 words)
the one where Hob gets bleach on Dream's favorite sweater | established relationship, retired!Dream
it's the perfect time of year (E, 2500 words)
spicy beach episode | established relationship
In the February Sun (T, 2600 words)
Dream accidentally visits on Valentine's Day and has some feelings about being mistaken for a couple | first kiss, getting together
uneasy is the head that wears the crown (G, 1600 words)
the one where Hob was secretly a prince on rumspringa when they met in 1389 | established relationship
let your heart be light (E, 2600 words)
Hob and Dream spend Christmas morning together | established relationship, declarations of love
Kind of Blue, a kind of fire (E, 2900 words)
the one where they drink whiskey and dance to Miles Davis in Hob's living room | first kiss, getting together
Fridays (T, 3000 words)
Hob throughout history | gen, partly epistolary
~the rough stuff~
[little ficlets, extensive headcanons]
all my Fluffbruary 2024 fills
AU idea: The Blue Castle by L.M. Montgomery
Hob and Dream meet ugly over a laundry argument (human AU)
Dreamling Bingo snippet: preview of would you go along with someone like me? chapter five
Dreamling Bingo snippet: excerpt from The Trenches Have Vanished Under the Plough (shellshocked WWI veterans AU)
at a Shakespeare in the Park performance, Hob misses Original Pronunciation
AU idea: Dream is a famous author with a secret career as a romance novelist and Hob is the voiceover actor who reads his audiobooks
assorted Smurch fills
the coffeeshop AU
hot and heavy in da club
retired!Dream's birthday
retired!Dream likes jewelry and piercings
small follow-up to In the February Sun
what if Dream retired and he and Hob didn't immediately jump into bed and a relationship?
AU idea: Dream runs a famous haunted house and Hob is a famous wuss
AU idea: Roman Holiday (Dream is a prince and Hob is a handsome reporter)
the unabashedly, purposefully bad sex scene (click at your own risk. but make sure you read through all the additions in the notes.)
Rose takes a picture at a family picnic and Hob has a realization
Hob WILL fight Night and Time
acts of service as Hob's love language (which has art!)
please give me more sci fi in this fandom
~the I-guess-this-counts stuff~
[idk bro it's just random]
compilation of "and they lived happily ever after" (ie fairy tale endings) in different languages
how I would write a Jane Eyre AU if I ever wrote one, which I'm not going to do
what if Hob was actually in a relationship when Dream came back?
actually Hob should be a preschool/primary school teacher: part one, part two
actually Hob doesn't hate Shakespeare and I'm a little tired of that trope
and if you're looking for a real firehose, my writing tag contains pretty much all of the above, plus tag game replies, snippets from WIPs, and other little bits and bobs!
thanks for reading! I love you!
last updated 3/30/24
#about me#I'll link this in my pinned post and do my best to keep it updated!#dreamling#dreamlingweek2023
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[FICLET] Little Indulgences
Fandom: The Sandman
Pairing: Dreamling (Hob x Dream)
Rated: E
Word Count: 1055
Tags: Top Hob, Bottom Dream, lingerie, vibrating butt plug, a little overstimulation, coming in panties
Notes: 1000-ish words in two-ish hours, I hardly recognize myself. For Smaugust day 28 prompt 'butt plug' and taking inspiration from this post. They are both wearing that, Hob in the color shown and Dream (of course) in black
Summary: A spot of fun with lingerie and sex toys
On AO3
"Touch me," Dream purrs, a command as surely as anything, and Hob. Well. He's already touching, has been touching, black lace and soft skin under his eager hands for the past several minutes, but it's clear in Dream's tone and the arch of his spine where he wants Hob to touch.
So Hob obliges. He tilts to capture Dream's sable lips in an open, filthy kiss and slides his hands down Dream's bare back, over the lace that covers his waist and hips, down to where his arse cheeks are beautifully framed by the curve of lace and the stretch of garters. He palms them and squeezes, licks the resulting moan directly out of Dream's mouth, squeezes again.
"Like so?" he murmurs, kneading softly, and the way that Dream writhes against him steals his breath. The dark teal silk of his own thong slides like water against the black of Dream's, cradles his hard prick in softness and smoothness that just makes every touch better and he can't help pulling Dream's hips tighter against him.
"Touch me," Dream breathes insistently, fingering Hob's nipple through the lace that covers it, raking the ebony nails of his other hand through the exposed hair on Hob's chest. He nips at Hob's chin, black lipstick immaculate despite it all. "Open me. Make me ready—"
Hob can't hold back a whine, at that, and his hand moves of its own accord. He'll need lube, he's gotta grab the lube but Dream said touch me and he can certainly give a little tease before—
His questing fingers find the silky g-string of Dream's panties and then smooth, hard plastic where he expects supple furled skin, and his brain short circuits. He takes hold of the little knob, wiggles it slightly, and any questions die in his throat as Dream jolts and melts against him, gasping.
"Dream," Hob breathes, pushing gently on the plug and twisting it in a circle, and Dream shudders beautifully.
"A gift," he moans, pulling himself flush and burying his face in Hob's neck. The bare V of his chest rubs against the lace panel over Hob's heart and the hair that pokes through the delicate fabric, and Dream moans again at the feel of it. "For you. For agreeing. This lingerie—"
"—looks as good on me as it does on you, love. You're welcome." Hob twists the plug again, twirling it slowly, and Dream sags with a low whine, bites the lace collar encircling Hob's throat. Hob is deeply amused that Dream's 'gift' bestows all the physical pleasure on Dream—but Hob, who pretty much coined the term 'service top'? He genuinely doesn't mind. He was happy to wear the matching lingerie set, dark teal to Dream's black, with no incentive offered—it's sexy as fuck and looks amazing on them both—but he's also not going to complain at being given the opportunity to pleasure Dream with the offered toy.
"The button," Dream manages, trembling against Hob, who is still slowly twirling the plug inside him. "Hob—"
Oh? Hob feels over the end of it, finds a button that is also a dial, presses it. The toy comes to life with a jaunty little buzz and Dream jerks in Hob's arms, gives a breathless little cry; Hob can feel the way Dream's cock jumps against his own, each still contained within a layer of silk. "Is that all?" he asks, a hint of a tease in his voice, and Dream shakes his head once, teeth still sunk in the lace at Hob's throat. "Perhaps…you'd like me to do this?" His fingers are still poised on the button-slash-dial and he gives it a minimal twist, upping the power marginally.
Dream's dark nails dig into Hob's biceps; Dream's cock jumps against his again. "Hob—" Dream's voice is shaking, dripping with want. "More—"
"As you wish, then," Hob smiles, and twists the dial all the way up.
Dream's head lashes back and he keens, arms going around Hob's neck, body trembling. Hob kisses the point of his chin, his bottom lip, and twists the toy around, first one way and then the other as it vibrates, drawing it out a tiny bit and sliding it back in. Dream is rock hard against him, a copious dampness seeping through both layers of silk so that Hob feels it too, and his hips are moving in little jerks as Hob plays with the vibe. He's making gasping little moans with every twist, ah, ah, ah and Hob can't help himself. He ducks his head, latches onto Dream's pretty white throat and bites just above the lace collar, gently. At the same time, he presses the vibe all the way in and holds it there, tight against Dream's prostate.
Dream cries out sharply, gone rigid in Hob's embrace; his throat works harshly beneath Hob's mouth and his cock pulses against Hob's, wet warmth blooming in the silk between them, and then he goes limp in the circle of Hob's arms.
"There we are," Hob breathes, wrapping him close, holding him upright.
He doesn't remove the toy.
He doesn't turn it off, either.
"Hob—" Dream's voice trembles where his face is buried in Hob's shoulder; his hands are digging into Hob's back where it's left bare by the lingerie. His body is shaking and Hob strokes up and down his spine, kisses where his neck meets his shoulder, soothing.
"Alright?" Dream isn't human, doesn't do overstimulation and refractory time the same way a human would, but Hob still believes in checking in with him. Dream came fast and hard and the toy is still buzzing merrily away, vibrating against his prostate, rendering him senseless with pleasure. Hob noses gently beneath his ear. "Dream?"
"More," Dream moans, muffled in Hob's shoulder, hips jerking against him. "Make me come again—"
Hob grins, nibbles back down the stretched tendon of Dream's neck, uncaring of the strip of lace in his path. "My pleasure, love. Yours too, heh. Hang on." He bends his knees, grips Dream by the back of his thighs, careful of the garters, and lifts. Dream whimpers, wraps his stocking-clad legs around Hob, squirms and trembles as the toy moves inside him with the shift in position, and Hob carries him to the bedroom, Dream's needy little whines fueling him the whole way.
=====
Drafted: 8/28/23
Posted: 8/30/23
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percccccccy 😈 i was just listening to dial drunk and was wondering if you'd write me a little raindrop ficlet where dew's the alcoholic and rain's his call? 🖤
i don't even ever write requests but you knew how to rope me into it with asking me to write something using a noah kahan song. AND raindrop. evil evil person. anyways, here's a quick, rushed 1000-ish word toxic raindrop ficlet for you. tried to keep it short (which is not my strongest skill set) but it's all there, under the cut of course...
trigger warning for drinking and being drunk
“What did you do?”
Dew winced at the words. He’d practically begged on his hands and knees for this call, and now that he’d heard the tone in Rain’s voice, he sort of regretted it. Maybe he should have called Swiss instead. Or Phantom.
They’d at least hide their anger.
But Rain had never failed him. Rain had never told him no, no matter the griping, the scowling, the hatred for the whole thing and the way that Dew acted.
“I’m in—”
“I didn’t ask where.”
Dew swallowed.
Maybe he should have called Swiss this time.
Dew breathed out slowly, turning to glance at the officer standing a little ways away, glaring at him. He couldn’t think, his head was swimming, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think that maybe Rain wasn’t angry with him, this time. That maybe there wouldn’t be the scolding of a lifetime, this time. He’d drank a lot, but not that much.
“I told you not to call me again, Dew,” Rain said tightly.
He had. Dew had thought that he hadn’t meant it.
“I thought—”
“You promised me,” Rain sighed, cutting him off.
“Rain, c’mon. Do you want me to beg? Please, come get me. I’m sorry. I fucked up—”
“Again,” Rain snapped.
Dew was quiet. He tried to get the buzz to go away. The cop cars and the fighting had done most of the job, the blood in his mouth, and the sting in his knuckles had nearly gotten him all the way there too, but there was still something left over. Something that made his brain a little sluggish and made his tongue a little heavier in his mouth.
The lights in the police station were giving him a headache.
“So…are you coming to get me?” Dew asked, after what felt like the longest lapse of silence in his entire life.
He hated how he sounded, like he assumed Rain was just going to do this for him again. He thought he sounded a little bit like Rain should always do this for him—bail him out, take him home, take care of him, and then do it all over when it inevitably happened again.
Rain was silent for a very long time. Dew was afraid his time with the phone was going to run out.
“I think— This isn’t fucking fair, Dewdrop,” Rain sighed. He sounded like he was choking—words so tight Dew was sure Rain’s throat was closing up. Dew didn’t want to make Rain cry, and he felt a pang of guilt over the fact that it was exactly what he was doing now. “It’s not fair for you to keep asking this of me, and you know it.”
“Rain, I—”
“What did you do this time?”
Dew sighed. He leaned forward to rest his head against his forearm, draped over the top of the phone. He squeezed his eyes shut, willed the tears away. He chewed on his lip, fighting off the bile he could feel rising up into his throat. He’d fucked up, and Rain wasn’t coming to save him. He knew that now. He knew that, and still some sick part of him thought that maybe, just maybe, there was a sliver of a chance that Rain would come for him again.
“I got in a little fight at the bar, alright?” Dew sighed. “It wasn’t—”
“Don’t act like it’s something smaller than it was,” Rain said. “Please, do not act like I wouldn’t see you standing there with a split lip and cut up knuckles if I were there right now. Tell me the truth or don’t tell me anything at all. You’re just wasting my time.”
“Did Mountain tell you to say that?” Dew scoffed.
He realized a moment too late that it was the wrong thing to say. He heard Rain suck in a sharp breath, and heard him sniffle.
“Rain, I didn’t—”
“I think you should rot in that cell for the night,” Rain replied. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before getting this bad. Or at least calling me for help again.”
“Rain, please don’t,” Dew begged.
“Dew, I love you,” Rain said slowly, steadily—as if he were forcing himself to keep it together. Dew had the sinking feeling that he probably was, “but I do not love you like this. You can call me when you get your shit together, okay? Until then, call someone else to clean up after you.”
And then, Rain hung up on him.
Dew looked at the phone sadly, listening to the dial tone. In the moment, it sort of felt a bit like all he had.
“Fuck,” he whispered, turning to look over at the officer. “Can I—”
“You get one call.”
“He hung up,” Dew said lamely.
The officer sighed, shook his head. He moved forward and took the phone out of Dew’s hands and put it back on the receiver, then reached for Dew’s forearm to drag him back towards the holding cell.
“Hey, wait!” Dew protested, clumsily fighting against the officer’s hold. “I need to—”
“Son, why do you do this to yourself?” the officer sighed.
Dew froze. He didn’t know, didn’t have an answer, but he didn’t like being asked the question. He sometimes just needed it, to forget, to be numb, and to be stupid, and to be alone. He let the officer shove him back into the holding cell without a fight this time. He sat down on the bench, bending over to rest his elbows on his knees, chin on his hands. He sat up again when his back started to ache, leaning back into the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.
He felt sick. He felt stupid.
“We’ll talk tomorrow about another call,” the officer said from his desk.
Dew looked up and over at him.
“Why?”
“Because I’m sick of dealing with you. And you’re wasting space in my holding cell,” the officer replied. “And I think maybe after this time you’ll at least try to change. I hope so anyway.”
Dew looked away from him, chewing at the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to admit that the guy was right, that he was already plotting out ways to make himself better—for Rain, if no one else. He seemed to have decided on it without really even realizing that he had. Perhaps it had been right when Rain had denied him help this time, when Rain had hung up on him and left him to rot with all the other burnouts in this damn cell.
Dew would call Aether tomorrow. Or Swiss. Copia if he felt really bad in the morning. Cirrus if he felt like he needed his head to be ripped off his shoulders. He’d call someone to come get him, to help clean him up, and then he’d work to get his own shit together.
And then maybe, just maybe, he’d call Rain again.
#percy’s asks#percy writes#dewdrop ghoul#rain ghoul#raindrop#rain x dewdrop#the band ghost#ghost the band#also don't give me shit i am not into drinking at all so i know nothing about being drunk or anything like that i'm sorryyy
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Thanks to my bestest wifey @ameerawrites, and her idea of doing this, I'm going to throw an offer out there to accept prompts for ficlets. I really enjoy doing them, so I hope people will be inspired to send them to me.
Guidelines below the cut for anyone who is interested!
-The fills will be 500-1000 words (probably closer to the 500 side of things) and with TLOU characters and OC's if you want yourself to be in the story (feel free to specify if you have a preference)
-Send words, sentences, pic sets, GIF sets, etc. via my ask box.
-If you ask under your Tumblr username and/or include your AO3 name, I'll tag you and/or gift the work to you when it's finished
-I will write smut so ask away! But I don't generally do super dark, but send it anyway I may be inspired. If I can't do it I will let you know and you can make another request if you want.
All right, guys I'm so excited I can't wait to see what I get.
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NETDIR://URBANDICTIONARY.WEB, a kerry eurodyne / V ficlet (1000~ words, rated E, humor & smut)
V swipes a hand across the fogged bathroom mirror. His chrome palms squeak against the glass, squeegeeing off a section that he can see his reflection in— freshly showered, a little ruddy from the residual heat and harsh scrubbing where his brown skin peeks through his blackout geometric tattoos. Even the worst gigs could be showered away with the combination of ten-in-one soap, shampoo and motor oil.
And he wants to look good. He’s got a date— a date, honest-to-God, not burritos at Caliente’s or a marathon of reality TV at the Villa, but a dinner at some expensive ‘ganic restaurant that Kerry invited him to. V combs his fingers back through his damp hair from root to tip, that bright green mullet, peers at himself in the mirror. He turns his head, side to side, rubs his fingers across the stubble on his jaw. Maybe he should shave. He shifts, lifts up an arm, flexes a little. Maybe he should jerk off.
V turns in the mirror. He looks good, maybe even good enough for Kerry Eurodyne. And he’s not posing, because that’s stupid, even in the solitary safety of his Megabuilding bathroom, but he may be flexing a little, watching the way the muscles in his arms jump, the way the gunmetal tendons attached to his gorilla fists bulge a little and the plates of his chrome arms threaten to separate underneath.
“Hey Kerry. Hey, Ker,” his voice pitches a little, tries on a few different purrs, lets himself taste the way Kerry’s name feels in his mouth. “Kerry, baby, how’s it going?”
He’s going to crush this date. Fuckin’ kill it. He slicks his hair back a different way, tilts his hips and grins in the bright bathroom lighting. “Y’look good tonight, Ker.” Number one Solo, number one date. There’s no way he can lose. He’s got this. He leans forward, raking his eyes over himself. Mutters, “call me NetWatch the way I’m gonna go through your Blackwall—”
“Call me NetWatch,” Johnny repeats, stressing each word, “the way I’m gonna go through your Blackwall?”
“God damnit, Johnny!”
V nearly jumps out of his skin, whipping his head around to glare at the engram. Looking thoroughly unimpressed, he slouches a foot away on top of the closed toilet, his aviators having slid down his nose just enough to really let V see how deeply, truly unenthused he is.
“I’m in the bathroom. Is nowhere fucking sacred?” V complains, turning back around to give Johnny the literal cold shoulder. “I didn’t ask for comments.”
Johnny ignores him. In the mirror’s reflection, he shifts where he sits, crossing his arms over his chest. “You think that’ll work? That’s a good line to you? A real panty wetter?”
“Okay, peanut gallery, you got anything better?”
“I mean, yeah, I can think of plenty of better lines then referring to— what, what the fuck is the Blackwall supposed to be in this hackneyed metaphor? Kerry’s asshole?” V rolls his eyes, though admittedly, he hadn’t exactly thought it through that far. Snidely, Johnny adds, “you’re not even a ‘runner.”
V glares at him through the reflection of the mirror. “I’ll workshop it, alright?”
Johnny groans, “Jesus Christ.”
——
The slap of skin-on-skin bounces off the walls of Kerry Eurodyne’s bathroom in tandem with his moans. V’s got one hand under Kerry’s thigh, lifting his leg up high enough that it’s nearly atop the counter as he fucks into him hard and fast. Kerry takes him so fucking well, looks gorgeous in front of the mirror, V’s white chrome hands indenting the skin where he grips him.
Kerry groans, catches V’s hungry gaze in the mirror’s reflection and bites his lip. He can feel him purposefully clench around his cock; it’s downright pornographic. V can’t help but moan.
“God damn, Ker,” he pants, presses his mouth against the back of his neck as he mindlessly thrusts. He licks a stripe up his neck, bites at skin salty with sweat. He moans, “feel so good—“
Kerry braces himself against the marble, his other hand moving to stroke his own cock. “C’mon, V,” his single-syllable name turns into multiple with each thrust jolting him; Kerry arches his back, groans, “fuck me, fuck.“
“Fuck, you feel so good—“ V groans, feels his orgasm build in his belly, nearly delirious with it, the burn in his abs and the way his balls tighten, “fuck, Kerry, say my name—“
“V, V—“
“Fuck, call me Netwatch the way I’m goin’ go through your asshole—”
Kerry stops. V’s hips stutter to a halt.
“What?”
“What?” Responds V.
“No, seriously,” Kerry’s flushed face, now pinched with utter confusion, stares at V through the mirror’s reflection; when V avoids his gaze, he tries to crane his neck back to catch his stare face-to-face, which is more successful than it should be. Rarely, V has hated Kerry’s steadfast yoga habit, but today is one of those days. “What the hell did you just say?”
He doesn’t even sound mad, just utterly perplexed.
“I, uh…” The words in V’s mouth have melted into molasses, sticky and unpleasant. “I… say? What did I say? I didn’t?”
He did. He fucking did. He knows what he said, and yet all he can do, in lieu of speaking, is gesture fumblingly with his hands, which he no longer knows what to do with. His dick’s still in Kerry. He’s vaguely bewildered with himself and his own place in the universe, and what sort of higher entity he must have angered to have fucked up so spectacularly.
Somewhere far away, and simultaneously much too close, V can hear Johnny cackle.
“You’re gonna netwatch my asshole?” Kerry asks with a kind of mild concern that makes V want to curl up and die, even if his eyes are kind. “That somethin’ the kids are saying nowadays?”
Forehead thunking against the back of Kerry’s neck to hide his face, V groans, “let the relic fucking take me now.”
#cp 2077#kerry eurodyne#johnny silverhand#cyberpunk 2077#silverVdyne#v cp2077#v is a deadly kleptopunk solo SECOND a fucking gonk dingus FIRST AND FOREMOST#nsft#stomping in a glass house#alright i put it under a cut. just in case
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Do you consider yourself a lore breaking, lore bending or lore adhering roleplayer? Does this adherence to lore depend on the kind of lore you're exploring with your characters; i.e. you play fast and loose with ideas xiv has yet to develop, but you tend to pay close attention to the fleshed out ideals? Is there lore you have modified that you're proud of and would share here?
I view lore as a starting point for me to jump off from and make my own. Always have.
I find strict adherence to game canon for its own sake creatively suffocating and always have, in every setting I've ever written in. It’s pretty much entirely because I grew up on DMing and writing in Forgotten Realms, which took a very DIY approach back in the day that was heavily encouraged by its creator. Everyone's Realms were equally valid, according to Word of God, and there were often intentional "blanks" left in sourcebooks for the DM to fill. These books emphasized over and over again that the DM was the ultimate authority on canon, not TPTB or the novels or anything else. That philosophy has informed my approach to worldbuilding in the transformative fandom sense for the last 30 years. That and being a queer Black femme of color who is very rarely satisfied by canon narratives rife w racially problematic tropes. I change things to make a space for myself and my characters and the stories I want to tell, by necessity. FFXIV is no different in that respect.
That said, I don't smash SE canon just to smash it either. Despite how bonkershits a lot of Gisèle's canon appears on the surface (eg. post-war Ishgard's constitutional monarchy with King Aymeric), everything I change has been carefully considered and engineered for as much internal consistency as possible. As much as I operate on Rule of Cool, I need things to make sense for me to have fun.
But I am distinctly not a roleplayer, for this and many other reasons. I'm strictly a fic writer, and I don't ever collab with people. The world Gisèle operates in is constructed entirely for her, and my own enjoyment, by design. So no one is forced to deal with my stuff if they don't like it.
That said, King Aymeric is probably the lore I’m most proud of. I wrote a ficlet for ffxivwrite last year on it here, but the cliffs notes: Aymeric invoked the ancient covenant between man and dragon when begging Hraesvelgr’s aid against Nidhogg and vowed he would restore it, but Hraes said that because that covenant was broken by an Elezen king, only an Elezen king could restore it. Hraes was wily though, it wasn’t just upholding weird draconic custom in saying that. His ulterior motive was to make Aymeric guarantee his people would be united enough not to turn on the Dravanians once Nid was handled. the end result is that Aymeric restored the Ishgardian throne (“The Azure Throne”, as a nod to Haldrath), but as a largely unifying figurehead/ceremonial position with Parliament strictly defining the role of the king. Artoirel is Lord Speaker of the House of Lords. Aymeric’s still LC of the temple knights in addition to his royal duties. He wasn’t giving that up lol.
making a constitutional monarchy plausible in the context of the story was challenging and I think I’ve done a solid job of it tbh. I wanted to lean into the Arthurian romance vibes of HW but also solve the fundamental problem I had w how it ended, which is that I don’t think it’s a terribly realistic scenario for ppl who were under a theocracy for 1000 years. Aymeric essentially having his hand forced by Hraesvelgr solves the issue of why he would restore the throne and tbh I don’t flinch from the complications of squaring that with the revelations about Ishgard’s founding, I think it only plays more into Aymeric’s ambivalence about the role he’s been thrust into.
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Katt's 2023 Bday Bingo!
You know the drill!! (or you don't, that's fine if you're new here!)
Prompts are a mix of smut, dialogue, and spring/summer esque themes.
Submissions can be anything, a mood board, a ficlet, headcanons, drabbls, gif sets, one shot, social media au's, whatever you want.
Read the rest of the rules under the cut!
Prompts can be any genre, even if it's obviously smut, you can change things around, make things super spicy, make it tooth rotting fluff, make it angsty as fuck, make it an AU. Just make sure to include any and all appropriate warnings and tags at the TOP of the post!
Fics can be a ship, a reader insert, an OC, basically whatever you want. Mix and match, stick with one, try out something new!
Accepted Characters:
Literally EVERYTHING. All fandoms, all characters, literally whatever the heck you want to write, you get to write. Some examples:
-Law and Order (OG, OC, SVU)
-Criminal Minds
-Abbott Elementary
-NCIS
-House of Cards
-Grey's Anatomy
-911
-Once Upon A Time
-Ted Lasso
-Wednesday
-Marvel Cinematic Universe
-DC
-The Morning Show
-One Chicago
These are just examples, everything and anything is welcome.
Rules:
You must tag me @storiesofsvu and use the hashtag #k2023bdaybingo on each creation and I'll do my best to put it all together on a masterlist.
Bingo begins May 1st and runs all the way through to June 18th.
You may only submit/post ONE creation PER DAY. And only one square per creation!
No underage characters/readers/oc's in romantic situations. It's fine to include character's children, or age up specific fandoms to being in college. But i don't want to see any high school kids getting it on.
Tag all and every warning appropriate at the top of a fic.
Anything over 1000 words MUST be under a readmore.
If you have any questions, feel free to message me!!
______
Tagging some people who might be interested
@swimmingstudentchaos891 @bumblebear30 @thatesqcrush @infiniteoddball @wannabe-fic-writer @red1culous @five-bi-five-mind @demonicbaby666 @alexusonfire @mickey-gomez @jamiethetrans @thehauntingofbasingse @bluetodie @rustyzebra @bullet-prooflove @strongsassysexysloane @prentiss-theorem @happenstnces @leftoverenvy @leianeverlight @jennifer-jareau @virescent-v @emobabeyy @dead-of-niight @summergeezburr
#k2023bdaybingo#writing bingo#bingo#criminal minds#law and order#law and order svu#law and order oc#house of cards#abott elementary#homeland#mcu#dc#wednesday#ncis#grey's anatomy#ouat
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slumber party shenanigans
based on this ask from @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles
word count: 470 (look i did it!!)
a/n: you’re such a little shit (lovingly). i hope you like this and i appreciate the challenge <33
————
🖋️ want another blanket?—i will write you a little ficlet (under 1000 words) for the character of your choice. i would appreciate if you’d specify whether you want comfort/fluff/angst/whatever and i will try and come up with something for you!
The door slams shut and you hear the thud of Eddie’s boots, the jingle of his keys, as you finish washing and putting away the dishes. He didn’t call to say he was coming over, but you know why he’s here.
He walks up behind you. “Why didn’t you come tonight?”
You rinse off a spoon, set it on a towel. “Didn’t realize I was obligated to attend all of your shows.” Your voice is sharp.
“You’re not. You’ve just never missed one without telling me.”
You scrub at a plate, squeeze out your sponge.
“Guess I didn’t want to stay and wait for you to finish making out with what’s-her-fuck backstage, just for you to come out and say ‘Oh, sorry, Jeff needed my help.’ Bullshit,” you mumble the last bit to yourself.
“What are you talking about?” Eddie’s face is burning. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. But if you’re not together, why do you care?
“Stop acting like a dumbass, Munson,” you snap.
Eddie reaches in front of you and shuts the water off. You spin, quickly drying your hands on a towel.
“So what you just showed up here to get in my way and play coy? Or do you have something to say?”
Eddie straightens his back out and crosses his arms. Sometimes you forget that he’s tall.
“Since when do you care who I make out with?”
“I don’t give a shit about what you do, Eddie. But I do care that you’ve been sticking your tongue down the throat of a girl who bullied the shit out of me in middle school.”
You’ve told Eddie about this. He just didn’t know that’s who it was. A shiver runs down his spine.
“Every night that I come see you play, she sits across from me and watches my reactions to you. She follows you backstage and when she’s done, she looks at me and she’s proud that she has you and I don’t.”
Your hands are shaking and you grip the counter behind you to steady yourself.
“You do have me,” Eddie says, voice breaking.
“Not in the way I want.”
What? There’s no way. Eddie’s only been making out with that chick because he’s trying to stop thinking about you in that way. Suddenly he’s very angry.
“Well then maybe you should’ve tried harder to get me.” The words are out before Eddie can stop them.
That hurt you, and Eddie can see it.
“Go.” You’re not looking at him.
Eddie doesn’t move. You pick up his keys and throw them at him. He catches them before they can hit the floor. “Y/N—”
“Get out, Eddie.” He can tell by the tone in your voice that you don’t want to say it again.
Eddie turns and leaves, slamming the door behind him.
#eddie munson#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x gn!reader#eddie munson x reader#bookshelf-dust’s 500 follower celebration#bookshelf-dust’s slumber party
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don't apologize for reblogging this regularly you're helping my game continue to live <333 but also:
8, 21, and 30!
8. Recommend a ficlet under 1000 words.
you have definitely already read this, but: (modern love) gets me to the church on time - silas/colum, colum being dramatic, silas being the child that he is, makes me want to eat it <3
21. Recommend a fic with good worldbuilding!
ALL of elizabeth's work is incredible but: No Wealth and No Ruin is a Dead Like Me/Social Network fusion that I literally can't reread without weeping because the ending.... FUCK
30. Recommend an AU fic!
i have to rec: we're going to play a bigger game because Ash is the only person to write a Jaws/Saw fusion that makes complete sense, is so fucking hot, and so incredibly clever
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Birthday Bingo Madness
Prompt related details:
Family is designed to be vague to fit whatever you feel you want to write where Family Values is more fixed on who teaches their family things or people who taught your chosen character something.
The Loose Rules:
Submissions can be anything written for example : a ficlet, headcanons, drabbles, one shot, whatever you want.
Fics can be a ship, a reader insert, an OC, basically whatever you want.
Any/all fandoms we share welcomed, but here’s some ideas;
- FBI
- CSI (All variants)
- Law & Order (All variants)
- Criminal Minds
- Star Trek
- Star Wars
- Blue Bloods
- NCIS
- Dracula 2000
The Firm Rules:
You must tag me @baubeautyandthegeek and use the hashtag #flickbirthdaybingo35 on each creation
Bingo begins May 6th And ends the same day a year from now.
Please only post one creation each day. And only one square per creation on each board.
No underage characters/readers/oc's in sexual or romantic situations please.
Anything that gets to over 1000 words should be under a read more.
Please use appropriate tags and trigger warnings
Ensure trigger tags are also shown at the top of fics
Please do ask if you have any other questions
Prompts under the cut if you can’t see the boards:
My Current Top 35 Characters:
1. Elle Greenaway
2. Emily Prentiss
3. Erin Strauss
4. JJ Jareau
5. Penelope Garcia
6. Alex Blake
7. Kate Callahan
8. Tara Lewis
9. Ashley Seaver
10. Kate Joyner
11. Katie Cole
12. Clara Seger
13. Abi Borin
14. Holly Snow
15. Hollis Mann
16. Jenny Shepard
17. Kate Todd
18. Abby Scuito
19. Kasie Hines
20. Sarah Porter
21. Alex Cabot
22. Casey Novak
23. Melinda Warner
24. Kim Greylek
25. Dani Beck
26. Connie Rubirosa
27. Serena Southerlyn
28. Alex Eames
29. Serena Stevens
30. Zoe Callas
31. Megan Wheeler
32. Jackie Curatola
33. Erin Reagan
34. Isobel Castille
35. Marisol Delko
35 Smut Prompts:
1. Daddy Kink
2. Mommy Kink
3. Spanking
4. Breathplay
5. Lingerie
6. Choking
7. Consensual Somnophilia
8. Biting
9. Marking
10. Collaring
11. Scratching
12. Vibrators
13. Strap-Ons
14. Tied Down
15. Cuffed Down
16. Mild Flogging
17. Begging
18. Body Worship
19. Dirty Talk
20. Praise Kink
21. First Time Together
22. Virginity
23. Light Whipping
24. BDSM
25. Dom/Sub Dynamics
26. Alpha/Omega Dynamics
27. Fingering
28. Oral
29. Professor/Student Kink
30. Uniforms
31. Suit Kink
32. Blindfolds
33. Temperature Play
34. Delayed Orgasm
35. Multiple Orgasms
35 Random Prompts:
1. Vampire AU
2. Werewolf AU
3. Hurt/Comfort
4. Losing A Child
5. Losing A Loved One
6. First Kiss
7. Workplace Romance
8. Soulmate AU
9. College/School AU
10. Model/Photographer AU
11. “I miss you���
12. “I thought I’d lost you”
13. “Please come home.”
14. “Marry me?”
15. Gunshot Wounds
16. “Why are you bleeding?”
17. “Kiss me!”
18. Secret Romance AU
19. Celebrity AU
20. First Fight
21. “Bring the fucking fight box… I’m not losing you over this.”
22. Polyamory
23. Poison
24. Crying
25. Movie Night
26. Family Values
27. Family
28. Birthday Party
29. “Birthday Girl”
30. Wedding
31. “My wife…. Still not over that.”
32. Honeymoon
33. Sickfic
34. Accidental Baby/Pet Aquisition
35. “What did I tell you about breaking the law???” “I didn’t…”
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