#I’ve been in the tag and that line just really struck me

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

fill in the blanks by mindshelter

"You?” Tim blurts. Holy shit. “You’re Kon?”

A nod. “Are you in any pain?” he asks again.

Kon’s skin is sun-kissed, cheekbones dusted with a fine smattering of freckles; he is, without exaggeration, the prettiest person Tim has ever seen. “No, I’m—great,” he says, fidgeting. “Do you, uh, come here often?”

Kon raises a brow. “To the medbay?” he intones. “Definitely more often than I’d prefer."

Fault Line by sElkieNight60 (+ podfic)

Part 1 of Tectonics

"You’re invulnerable…” he whispers, but it’s clear that fact falters in his mind.

Confusion writes its way into the lines on Conner’s face and Clark takes a step back as though physically pushed.

“You’re not invulnerable.”

It is a statement, dull like stone.

“N-no, sir.”

— 🦸 —

OR: Conner's not as invincible as Clark thought. Suddenly, he's a lot more human.

Danny Phantom x DC

The Business of Family by Spaced_Ace

Jazz remembered the way their parents loomed in the living room as they’d laid out that verdict. Ever-present weapons gleaming, standing in such a way that they blocked access to both the front and back entrances. Their eyes had been what struck her the most of that horrible tableau. What made her stomach fill with jagged stones and drenched her back in a frigid sweat. The way they looked at her little brother, their gazes cold and hollow and -

Hungry.

(Things are not well in Amity Park.

With the GIW getting more and more aggressive and their parents becoming ever more suspicious of Danny each day that passes, Jazz knows that they're running out of time. It's not safe, and their options are painfully limited. Out of sheer dumb luck or a little intervention from Clockwork, she manages to discover a distant relative that just might be their salvation.

If asked Oswald Cobblepot would say that it's just good business. Adopting a few kids had done wonders for Bruce Wayne's reputation, why not his? It's not like he can't afford to put them somewhere out of the way if they get to be a problem. It's just business. Nothing more.

(His soft heart says otherwise))

The Witcher

Words of Love by ForestWren

"I should warn you,” Jaskier said between kisses in the soft darkness of the shed, “That I know some… very interesting people. You may want to avoid meeting them.”

“I’ve dealt with the Redenian court for decades. Your friends can’t be worse than that.”

Five times Radovid meets Jaskier's friends and family, plus one time they are alone.

Star Wars x The Mandalorian

Master Skywalker: The Absolute Worst by PrinceJakeFireCake

"Din got to his feet. He patted Boba on the shoulder affectionately.

“You should watch the recording of Skywalker fighting the death troopers,” he said, then pressed a kiss to Boba’s cheek and told Grogu to stop eating his blocks.

Boba watched the recording. He was pretty sure he would never be the same again. He was positive that he never wanted to meet Skywalker ever again.”

Boba Fett falls for Luke Skywalker. It isn’t the funnest thing he’s ever done.

Original Works

Call Me Menace by wingedcat13

You, Synovus, are a respectably terrifying supervillain. Your main rivals, a pair of superheroes named Legionnaire and Athena, are actually respectable as heroes. You hate having to stoop to kidnapping their child - but you hate more what the kid's behavior implies.

if it don't hurt now (just wait a while) by quandaries_and_contradictions

Part 27 of mage in a wolf pack

When the hunters first take him, Jaime knows everything will be okay.

He’s scared, of course. He wants his mom and dad and little sister. But he knows it’s going to be okay — because the wolves who protect his town will come for him. Lada’s mother and father and papa won’t let the hunters get away with this. All he has to do is hold on until they get here.

Months later, he's not so sure.

Stranger Things

No One Rides For Free by weird_witchcraft

"Are you okay Harrington?” Eddie asks gently, “Need me to get anyone?”

“No one to get,” replies Steve, so soft Eddie barely catches it. “You think I want anyone seeing me like this?”

Eddie Munson stumbles across Steve Harrington crying next to a bush at Tina's party and makes it his mission to cheer him up.

Clone Wars

mirci't be uja by ihathbenobiwankenobied for whitchry9

Obi-Wan is usually good at keeping track of his blood sugar levels–because he has to be–but this time, it’s out of his control.

(Or, a diabetic Obi-Wan is thrown for a loop after crashing on an unknown planet. Stim does his best to keep his General alive)

#hopefully this makes your monday a bit better #weekly fic round up #my posts #sw recs #original works recs #stranger things recs #dc recs #dp recs #witcher recs #fic recs

[lovedianagrey]

soukoku fics: recs and reviews

look, i really like fanfiction. and i've always felt people sometimes don't give good enough reasons to actually read a lot of it. if you scroll down enough, you'll see i did that too. so i thought i'd help out some people that don't know what to read tonight. you'll notice i took my reviewing seriously hgdsafvkhagsv i'll add more in my reblogs as i go on with this review style, but for now, here are three fanfics that pushed me to do this. fair warning, they're long ones.

A Lesson in Thorns by arkastadt

Word Count: 454,556

Tags: Arranged Marriage, BSD Beast!AU, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Character Death, Heavy Angst, Happy Ending, Ghosts, So Much Smut

Review:

As one of the longest fics I’ve ever read, it took me three days to read it, and a lot of lost sleep. A Lesson in Thorns is a journey that no one is truly prepared for. It’s surprising, I think, how one only notices the slow burn in the beginning, and forget they didn’t start out together in the end. So many things happen in the span of those fifty chapters, and so many feelings arise alongside their events. The reader watches Chuuya grow into himself, despite the haunting (hehe) that surrounds him by the end. Dazai becomes a man wishing to live, despite becoming a ghost of who he used to be. It’s quite magical, the way the story builds upon itself. What is usually some home, this piece makes an empire. 

This author appealed a lot to the wants and needs within these characters, making a paced build up to the challenges the characters face. Furthermore, there is a wonderful line of thought that is unwavering, consistent to the very end. The reader meets Chuuya getting ready to be married. A deal has been struck with the Port Mafia, and as the leader of the Sheep, Chuuya must marry their boss. A questionable and confusing task, but Chuuya has no more cards under his sleeve, and he has to save Shirase from the pending prison sentence. He walks into where he is to be married, looking to find a wrinkled, aging man. Instead, he faces the bandaged limbs and cunning eye of Dazai Osamu, and the story truly begins. 

The reader already knows it’s not a choice left for random that Dazai takes Chuuya under his wing. It’s already stated that on the first day in his position as the boss, right after killing Mori and sixteen months before he and Chuuya marry, he finds the redhead. A search that is broken down as the story unravels, and an effort that builds them and breaks them apart and puts them back together. 

This fanfic is clearly derived from a lot of the factors pointed in Bungou Stray Dogs’s BEAST light novel, which in my eyes makes it all the more interesting. I tried to give a short insight into the beginning with as much care as I could without creating any spoilers for the reading. I guess from me, all my notes just say it’s worth it. This fic really drags you through so many stages of feelings and excitements, and it builds off from them until you reach a new peak all over again. 

On Deathless Feet by AbsoluteNegation

Word Count: 71,848

Tags: Caretaking, Controlling Arahabaki, Canon-Divergence, Port Mafia and Post-Port Mafia, Smut

Review:

There are some stories that find themselves tucked into a hidden corner. It does not make them any less, and it does not make them any better, it just makes them quiet. Which in turn, when they are finally found, makes them all the more surprising. That is how I feel about On Deathless Feet, tucked in a corner of Ao3, and all incredibly surprising. 

Written with a nonlinear narrative, the reader meets the famed Double Black in different moments, recently met, in the middle of their rise through the ranks, at the brink of their end, after their disconnection with years of silence. AbsoluteNegation makes a wonderful story threaded in different moments, contextualizing their uncomfortable return to each other with interruptions back to their old lives before Dazai’s split from the Port Mafia. The author mainly focuses on Arahabaki, and Chuuya’s relationship with understanding the singularity as it slips out of control. Dazai is sent in to help counter it throughout their time together, and long stretches of contact are needed to get it down to normal. 

With a state of constant carataking, the two are thrusted into communion, needing to learn to accept living with each other for the time being. It isn’t a foreign feeling, seeing the other there, but at the end of the day it’s hard for the two with all that past. A past the author explores in detail just as much, not holding back on making it layered and pretty and very intense. They are creatures of passion, that’s what drives this ship and makes it so loved, and the author doesn’t shy away from building on it. Just as well, however, does the author place their own touch to their relationship, with the care and devotion the two also experiment between them. This fanfic is a welcomed balance to the rockier roads often explored surrounding these two. It never lacks sharpness, but it definitely warms the heart.

music for our funeral by itotypes

Word Count: 67,723

Tags: No Smut, Angst, 70s, Musicians!AU, Drug Abuse, References to Child Neglect, Songwriting, Artistic Lyricism

Review:

Music for our funeral by itotypes is a breathtaking composition, and there is not much like it. Set in the 70s, the author explores the surrounding setting of the rock genre, and writes a story of struggle and connection. Starting out with a run-away teenager, we meet Dazai’s lackluster perfection, the narrative often picturing him as a clinical artist. After leaving home, we watch him make himself something, and see him survive until he looks to live. Meanwhile, the other side of the piece plays with a striving perfectionist, and a reckless guitarist, in the form of Chuuya. The man comes from a struggling family (a stark contrast to the origins of his partner), and finds himself lost in the music. 

An interesting part of the story is that we get to know the characters before they meet. In a way, it allows the reader to explore the lives privy to the explosion, and before the pining and intensity that sparks between the two. One of the most appreciative factors that make this story one of my personal favorites is the usage of images throughout it. With beautiful lyrics exploring the essence of a character’s beliefs without them needing to admit it to themselves, there is a clear view into the conflicts and selfish needs that each character has. 

This author’s work is best described as an ode to music. It comes as a surprise at times, the way words fit together in reverence to this branch of artistry. Yet the fact that it’s done through another form of storytelling, through the use of words on a screen instead of notes on one’s ear, makes it all the more captivating. There is no question this is a must read. 

#i read and review and rant #i have no idea if anyone wants this #i have no regrets writing this tho #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #soukoku #skk #skk fanfiction #soukoku fanfiction #fanfic recs #fanfic recommendations #fanfic reviews

[nattikay]

Shoutout to my mom who let me dump a bunch of spoilers on her so I could cry about Neteyam. Finally had the chance to get all that sobbing that dehydration robbed me of yesterday out of my system, and I’m feeling a little better now. I mean, the situation still makes me sad, but I don’t think I’ll continue to have my eyes suddenly start leaking every other hour like they did for most of today. :’)

so uuuhhh now that I’ve more or less gotten over that hurdle, I can finally sit down and make a post about all the other stuff from the movie! So here’s a list of some of the other thoughts and observations I had, not exactly comprehensive cuz this is all coming after 24 hours of grieving so I may not remember every single little thought I had, but here we go anyways (also tagging @tenebrius-excellium cuz you said you wanted to hear my thoughts):

-I just want to watch the first five or so minutes on loop for a while (although maybe without the cuts to Neytiri singing the songcord because 🥲, good golly the moment I saw that shot I, already being familiar with the lore behind songcords, was like oh NOOOOO), just the scenes of those ~14 peaceful years where the kids are growing up and the RDA is gone and everyone is happy together and it’s all just so sweet, this is the content I want, I want more of it, please pretty please, I know it’ll be a while before all the gif-makers are able to get a hold of those scenes but man as soon as they do goodness gracious I’m just gonna stare at it all for hours 😭

-While I was already assuming that the Metkayina didn’t actually know English and that we the audience were only hearing English for convenience, I was expecting that issue not to be directly addressed. So I was pleasantly surprised when it was subtly addressed with Jake’s voiceover about now being familiar enough with the Na’vi language to understand it as easily English as the audio of the kids bickering swapped from Na’vi to English. Theory confirmed!

-Speaking of the Na’vi language, I did feel very excited because I was able to understand some of the unsubtitled lines, which was a goal! so yay!! I mean, I didn’t understand every Na’vi line spoken (some of the longer ones I’ll definitely have to listen to more than once to piece together), but to even understand any of it at all, especially the ones without subtitles, felt very awesome!! dopamine rush babey!!!

-And on that note, the fact that Quaritch of all characters was making an effort to learn the language really surprised me! He struck me as the type of character to not give two craps about that sort of thing but hey. I definitely got a kick of out of Spider absolutely roasting him for his lack of skills hrh (note, I very most certainly do not condone actually mocking new learners making mistakes, obviously, but seeing as this is Quaritch we’re talking about...^^”) Spider’s line here was also a place I even managed to catch a subtitle discrepancy -- iirc, the subtitles read “You sound like a three-year-old!” but the actual line was nga plltxe na ‘eveng ahì’i! you speak like a small child! Which, I mean, y’know, same gist, but it was cool to be able to understand the actual words!! I also greatly enjoyed Spider trying to teach Quaritch the distinction between na and nga, just because man that’s one of those things every learner has been through, idk it was delightful to watch it go down between canon characters hrh

-Speaking of Quaritch and Spider....wow, I was surprised just how early they dropped the “Quartich’s son” bomb. That had been a pretty popular and plausible theory for a while, but I was expecting it to either be left up to interpretation or used as a bombshell later in the film. But nope, from the get-go it’s pretty heavily implied that not only is Quaritch Spider’s biological father, but that they’re both aware of this. So. Yeah, that was certainly a surprise.

-Kiri “I would rather drink acid than have Norm be my biological father” good gracious girl! like I mean yes the idea that Norm and Grace were secretly hookin’ up is obviously preposterous, but what did Norm ever do to you to deserve that reaction ^^; haha

-I mentioned in my High Ground post the three primary theories on Kiri’s origins. Having now seen the movie, I now think the mystical-Eywa-conception theory is by far the most likely. However, canonically it still remains a mystery/up to interpretation. Perhaps we’ll get more answers in movie 3...

-Y’know what, vulgarity is not typically my type of humor, but Lo’ak flippin’ Quaritch the double bird when asked to let him see his fingers did get a chuckle out of me hrh

-hey um yo the Metkayina kids were absolute JERKS, what the heck?? like good golly heckin’ rude. Except for Tsireya she’s chill I like her :)

-Personally I don’t think the story of this movie is a total rehash of the first one overall, but I can very mostly definitely see how people would consider it so. There were several lines in two scenes in particular, the one where the Sullies arrive at the Metkayina clan and the one with the tulkun hunters, that were just soooooo similar to lines from the first movie, not quite verbatim but certainly awkwardly close. I can absolutely see this becoming a common complaint from internet critics.

-Tuk pretty much solely exists to make the audience go d’awwwww!!, and y’know what, that’s ok because boy did she succeed :’)

-unfortunately, Quaritch’s ikran has by far the coolest design of all the ikrans, like bruh that color palette is heckin’ dope. what a shame ur now stuck with this jerk lol. Though I did snicker at Quaritch feeling the need to bond with the ikran “the hard way” solely because he couldn’t stand to be outdone by Jake lol

-I liked Lo’ak and Payakan’s friendship, it was very sweet. Also very interesting design-wise that a tulkun’s queue is in his mouth, and that the mouth has more of those bioluminescent patterns on the inside.

-The fact that the tulkun hunters are 100% aware that the species they’re hunting is fully sapient feels very ick to me. Sir that’s...that’s murder. Good gracious. and um “tulkun brain juice stops human aging” wh...what?? can uh...can we get some more explanation on that??? like is that gonna be somehow relevant to later movies or is it just some arbitrary thing to make the brain juice valuable, valuable enough to attempt to justify murder idk but uh....yyyyyyeah 😬

-minor thing, but I was surprised that the swimming baby from the trailer was, in fact, not Ronal’s. In fact, we never actually meet Ronal’s baby, which, again, surprised me. Why make her pregnant if we don’t get to see the baby, it feels kinda random ^^; to link her to her spirit tulkun who just had a calf I guess?? idk. once again, maybe it’ll become more relevant in movie 3.

-until proven otherwise, I am heretofore declaring that final “a son for a son” line to be Spider’s official adoption into the Sully family 😭😭😭

anyways, I guess that’ll do for now. I’m sure there was other stuff but I’ve been sitting here typing for over an hour already. Perhaps later I’ll come back with more comments, idk. I’ll be seeing the movie again next week with the rest of my family, so maybe I’ll notice different things/remember stuff that got swallowed up in the feels. Will I cry more than I did on my first viewing because I’m gonna try not to go in dehydrated again, or less because by then I’ll have had a week to process and accept everything? I have literally no idea. Guess we’ll have to just wait and see...

#awow spoilers #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water

[liesmyth]

Dissecting John and Wake’s conversation

Or, at least, a specific section of it. Way before NtN came out, Wake’s specific phrasing when she accuses John struck me as odd. I’ve been obsessing over these lines since 2021.

Given the context, she’s most likely talking about Earth here, not his post-resurrection actions. She is charging him with the genocide of humanity on the day he destroyed Earth. But her language is very specific, and at odds with how Wake usually talks. It sounds rehearsed; it sounds very dogmatic, like another line that has been passed down the generations, just as BoE names are.

According to the HtN glossary, BoE members pick their names from the names of previous Edenites. It goes back all the way to Earth, but they don’t seem to have the context for these references. Wake’s list of accusations against John has the tone of another litany, as if this specific wording has been passed down. John has “heard this ALL before,” which IMO supports this interpretation. He has heard these exact accusations before, down to the wording. They’re ritualised.

Wake recites her charges without any hint of doubt; she’s definitely convinced she IS telling the truth. What I find interesting is the contrast between her very precisely worded charges, and the fact that she follows them up with factually incorrect information. This:

Ok, here’s the thing. John didn’t kill ten billion people with “A” BOMB. Note the singular here. It’s peculiar, because she was SO specific just before, and because this is Wake—she knows her shit about weapons; she would know that it’s way, way more likely to kill billions of people with repeated strikes instead of one (1) huge bomb. And “bomb” it’s not a word that people tend to use in the singular whee they mean multiple bombs. I really think that, given the context, she TRULY means to say that BoE lore has it that John Gaius wiped out all of humanity in one blow. She believes it. This isn’t a historical account; this is a flood myth.

I may be overthinking this, but it’s fun to do it, so. What this conversation says (TO ME, until Alecto proves me wrong etc.) is

BoE believe they know how the destruction of humanity came about.

Their account was probably passed down the generation, and it’s become part of their mythology. It’s entirely not factually correct.

This could be due to simply the fact that it’s been millennia and many records went lost, leaving legends. OR it could be because of other reasons (propaganda?). Also: if we take the apparent (but not confirmed) implication that the non-House planets were settled by descendants of the FTL fleet, there���s the fact that the ships were in orbit while Earth was actually being destroyed—they may have been aware of a bomb exploding as they took off, causing a loss of communication with Earth, but it’s a massive fucking leap from “Melbourne went dark” to “kiwi necro guy killed off all of humanity”. They were already at the edge of the solar system when John “grabbed one” of the ships, but I doubt he was in any way recognisable, you know? It’s more likely he looked like an angry nebula. The FTL fleet would Not know exactly what happened.

(Anyway I’m writing out this because I’m about to start a NtN reread and I remember finishing up my Harrow reread in August and being yet again struck by all the details in this conversation—hence tagging it as #nona reread. Very excited to go obsessing over NtN now.)

#tlt thoughts #nona reread #commander wake #ejg #tlt #htn #blood of eden

[angryschnauzer]

Smoke and Flame

Summary: A chance meeting after an awards show, you end up sharing a meal with fellow actor Ben Barnes at his flat. Just at things are heating up catastrophe strikes and the night is cut short. But a surprise visitor at your hotel room the next morning proves that even after smoke there are flames.

Pairing: Ben Barnes x Female Reader (No race or body type mentioned)

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, 18+, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Wall Sex.

A/N: This is my first Ben fic so i wasn’t entirely sure if my brain would help me out, but it seems to have worked! I haven’t seen any of Bens work apart from the first half of Shadow & Bone, but this skinny brit now seems to have a hold on my ovaries. Unbeta’d. Typos show we’re human. I am adding this to the end of my Henry Cavill masterlist as i don’t have a ‘everyone else’ list. I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You can also follow me on AO3.

Standing in the aisles of the Tesco Express mini supermarket you swung the plastic basket from your fingertips as you stared mindlessly at the meagre selection of sandwiches left on the shelf of the chiller. 11pm at night was not the best time for a good range of choices. Your stomach grumbled and you looked longingly at the microwaveable chilled pasta meals in the next chiller, before reminding yourself that the small boutique hotel room you’d been booked into didn’t have a microwave. 

“I should have just gone to the after party” you muttered to yourself. 

The Empire Awards were one of the most fun and laidback awards shows in the industry. Over the course of your career you’d been invited a few times, even nominated once or twice. Tonight you’d been presenting the award for best actor, some arrogant little prick winning the award which he’d all but snatched out of your hand on the way to shoving you away from the podium so he could bore everyone there with a ‘speech’. You smiled to yourself when you recalled how the cheers for you coming on stage had by far had been louder and longer than those of when he’d won.

Still staring at the line of cheese ploughmans sandwiches in front of you a soft cough behind you caught your attention, and as you turned your gaze followed the path of a crisp shirt up to the wearers deep brown eyes and a soft but deep well spoken voice;

“Thought i recognised those legs, they were all i could see as you stepped on stage past my table”

You could feel your cheeks warm as you realised it had been another one of the best actor nominees, Ben Barnes;

“Oh, hi”

You shouldn’t be star struck, you were a ‘star’ in your own right, but where you kept to yourself and avoided parties and the Hollywood social circuit you rarely had much interaction with actors outside of being on set. 

“Are you skipping the after party too?” he asked

Turning back to the chiller you nodded;

“Yeah, not really one for loud parties and all that networking kind of stuff, but kinda regretting it now seeing as we weren’t fed at the show”

“I recommend the Spaghetti with chilli prawns”

“I’m more of a Penne kinda girl myself, but my hotel room doesn’t have a microwave so it's just a sandwich now… and i’ve got a choice of cheese ploughmans or a hoisin duck wrap”

“Eww” you looked back and smiled as you saw his face scrunched up in mock disgust before he offered an alternative; “Hey, I live just around the corner and have a relatively clean microwave… if you wanted to grab something hot?”

Inadvertently chewing on your bottom lip your mind went elsewhere before finally your mouth caught up with your brain;

“Relatively? Sold, Penne Arrabiata it is. Do you want one?”

Nodding to the basket swinging from his long fingers he grinned;

“Already got one, toss yours in, we’ll get the multibuy discount” It was unlikely either of you needed to even consider wanting a discount thanks to good roles and even better salaries, but frugal habits from college and drama school still linger.

Five minutes later you were strolling alongside Ben on the wide pavement, the light summer night sky still showing pale hues of blue and pink as the sun lingered well into the evening.

“You know, I wasn't sure if it was you for a moment, your hair… and the t-shirt…”

You laughed, realising that you probably now just resembled anyone returning home after a night out;

“The ponytail was just a clip in, I shared a stylist with two of the other girls on the cast and got her to take it out before leaving…” you looked down and smiled at the free Netflix t-shirt that the promotions crew had been handing out; “And yeah, felt a bit safer covering up if i was going to be on the tube at night”

The dress you’d worn to the awards had been racy to say the least, and well beyond what your usual attire and comfort zone would include. A black mini dress that although wasn’t obscenely short, still skimmed the widest point of your thighs, and when you turned the sides were lace up like a corset with a similar ribbon pattern up your back to a high collar in a slightly goth style and a deep v to show your cleavage, but when paired with the extra long ponytail and the black stiletto heeled boots gave you a darker and more mysterious style.

"Well, knowing what's underneath…" Ben muttered before catching himself and clearing his throat; "My flat is just across this next road"

A short while later you were standing in his kitchen, dark wood units with white countertops to give a stylish feel but with signs of everyday use; from the used mug waiting on the side to the dish towel haphazardly folded and hanging from the oven handle. You'd watched as he'd pulled the old dormer window up to let fresh air circulate before offering you a drink;

"I've got some beers in the fridge, or i think there's some wine… but that isn't cold, or tea, coffee, water…"

"A beer's fine"

Slipping your heels off you sighed with relief when the cold floor tiles soothed the soles of your feet, turning and bumping straight into Ben's chest as he'd silently crossed the room to hand you the bottle of beer.

"Oouf… sorry"

"That's quite alright Darling. Now, take a seat, dinner service at Chez Benjamin is about to commence"

Giggling, you sipped the beer as you watched him move around his kitchen with a familiar ease, spinning a sharp knife in his hand before flamboyantly stabbing little holes in the plastic cellophane of your pasta meal, popping it into the microwave and setting it to cook. 

You moved to the kitchen counter and set your beer down, before sliding your ass onto the countertop as you watched him move around. Conversation started to flow as the minutes on the digital display counted down. When the five minutes had passed you watched as he served your pasta, closing the distance between you with a bowl in one hand and a fork in another;

"Bon appetit"

Laughing you took them from him, watching him as he did the same for his own meal. You chatted as you ate, talking about upcoming projects and mutual acquaintances. The conversation was friendly and a little flirty, and you were finding it difficult to concentrate on little else than the way his long limbs stretched out as he leant against the counter opposite you. When you'd both finished he stood and set his bowl into the sink, then taking yours but pausing;

"You've got a little bit…" he waved his finger at the corner of your mouth, causing you to stick your tongue out to lick it away but obviously failing; "No, it's just…"

Without thinking he put his fingers beneath your chin and with his thumb gently swiped at the small splash of tomato sauce at the corner of your mouth, the soft pad dragging over your lips as you parted them. Almost instinctively you sucked on the pad of his thumb, your tongue laving over the soft part. Meeting his gaze his dark irises burned with desire, the corners of his mouth being tugged into a smirk;

"Good girl" he quietly praised, pushing his thumb a little further into your mouth whilst you worked your tongue against it, fellating his digit before you were both made jump by a knock at his front door, a voice coming from the other side.

“Ben, i’ve got a parcel for you”

He sighed, withdrawing his hand from you;

“Sorry, its my neighbour, he’s probably taken in the courier delivery of a script a new dark Cinderella adaptation I’ve been waiting for”

“Oh, Prince Charming”

He grinned at you as he disappeared into the hallway, hearing him open the door and exchange quiet pleasantries, and as the seconds passed you caught sight of your reflection in a mirror on the opposite side of the room, smiling when you saw the fleck of red sauce still in the corner of your mouth. As you were preening in the mirror Ben returned, silently crossing the room to stand directly in front of you;

“Where were we?” he asked with a grin on his face

“You were failing at your job of getting the sauce off my lips”

“Oh, right, guess we’ll have to go with an alternative method”

Without skipping a beat he leant forwards and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back;

“Hmmn, still there…”

Going in for another kiss, this time he pressed his lips to yours, thoughts of the tiny spec of sauce now forgotten as he repeated it again, his hand sliding up the outside of your thigh at the same time which caught you by surprise, the gasp you let out giving him the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue pushed into your mouth, dancing with your own as your hands moved to his chest and up to his shoulders, your legs parting to bring him closer to where you sat on the counters edge. As your bodies pressed together his hands moved over your body, one gripping your hip where the other slid between your t-shirt and dress. His fingertips found the bare skin where the ties of your dress laced, his featherlight touch sending shivers through you. When the kiss finally broke and you were left gasping for air, he started to press kisses down your jaw and neck before reaching the neckline of your t-shirt;

“Hmmf, this is going to have to go Darling”

Nodding you went to take the t-shirt off but were beaten to his as his hands tugged on it and pulled it over your head before he dropped it on the counter beside you. When his gaze returned to you he leant back to take in the sight of your cleavage up close in your dress and how it accentuated what you had been given by mother nature. Ben stayed silent, licking his lips before he wrapped one hand around the back of your neck to pull you close as the other strayed to your hip and slipped beneath the fabric of your dress. Like a creature of the night he descended upon your neck, placing open mouthed kisses along your jugular before running his teeth over the soft skin. As he hit your pressure points your hands flew to the back of his head and neck, holding him in place to encourage him as your fingers entwined in his soft brown hair. You were breathless and you could feel your body responding with heightened arousal, your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him closer to your core, desperate for any sort of friction.

“Getting a little needy there Darling?” he muttered against your skin as the hand that had been on your hip moved between your parted thighs to rub at your pussy through the soaked fabric of your underwear. You could do little but to whine in frustration, his fingers the cause of more arousal with little relief. With a chuckle that told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you he hooked your underwear to one side before sliding his long fingers the length of your slit, going back and forth through the soaked folds from your entrance up to your clit where he would oh so gently run the pad of his finger over it only to dip away again.

“Please… please Ben…”

He moved and pressed a kiss to your lips before touching his forehead to your own;

“Do you want more? Is that what you want?”

“Yes, I need you inside me”

He chuckled and you felt as he slid his hand down until two fingers were resting against your entrance, teasing your trembling hole before he pushed them gently inside, slowly stretching you. Your eyes went wide as you felt him breach your body and you gasped as his warm breath met your own;

“Oh… oh fuck…”

He only chuckled, rocking his hand gently back and forth and each time sliding deeper inside you. Jesus, ‘how long were his fingers?’ You thought to yourself, your unspoken question answered when he hummed as he found that soft spongy spot deep inside with ease. With his other hand still on the back of your neck effectively holding you in his grasp, you could do little but writhe against his other hand as you clung to his shoulders. His thumb found your clit and sent a shockwave through your body;

“Do you like that? You like my fingers deep in your pussy? Being such a good girl, I can feel you’re so tight and you’re so close, squeezing the shit out of my fingers… Did you want another? A third? Think you can take it?”

“Yes… No… I…”

“Let's try it and see, shall we?”

You felt him pull his hand back a little before the pressure in your cunt increased, the stretch of the tight ring of muscle almost too much, but as his thumb found your clit again you surged forwards and impaled yourself fully on his triple digits. 

“Oh, that’s the spirit, fuck yourself on my fingers, you like it deep? Yeah? I can feel you juicing up all over my hand, fucking soaked, can’t wait to get my mouth on you, taste you. Would you like that? You want me to eat this pussy? Get it ready for my dick?”

For a posh boy Ben certainly knew how to talk dirty, his words doing more to turn you on than any porno ever could. He increased his efforts with his fingers and you could feel your orgasm building, moving your hands to grip onto his upper arms and surprised to feel how firm they were, how his innocent white shirt was hiding such potential beneath. Your usual suitor tended to be bigger, beefier, not full gym rat, but they would have an imposing presence about them. This is what had therefore lulled you into a false sense of security with Ben, believing him to be an innocent waif when he was far from it.

As his thumb grazed over your clit one final time you felt the world explode around you, coming hard on his fingers as he swallowed your cries of passion with a deep kiss. With each wave of your orgasm Ben continued to apply pressure to both your clit and g-spot, before you were completely over stimulated and breathless, grasping his wrist with your hand;

“St… stop… I can’t…”

Finally he relented, pulling his fingers free and holding them up between you, sticky and dripping with your liquor before he put them in his mouth and held eye contact as he licked them clean.

“Delicious” he said with a dark smirk

“You’re trouble, aren’t you?” you said with a smile as he helped you off the counter, his hands already fumbling with the ties of your dress as he started to walk you backwards through his flat, knocking into furniture, the sounds of things being knocked over on the edge of your consciousness. As you both fell onto the soft bed Ben’s face was buried in your neck, pressing kisses down your cleavage when a sudden loud beeping resonated throughout the small apartment. Ben froze for a moment before he scrambled off you.

“What’s that noise?”

“The fire alarm”

You were on your feet in seconds, hastily pulling the strap of your dress up as you heard banging on the front door, a muffled voice calling through;

“Ben, get out, flat 8 is on fire!”

Thirty seconds later you were both standing on the other side of the street, your hastily grabbed t-shirt and bag in your arms, shivering mostly from the cold but also partially from the adrenaline and shock of coming out of a building only to turn around and see it on fire. Ben had stayed at your side for a few minutes before he started to help his neighbour do a headcount to ensure everyone was out of the building, the emergency services arriving soon after. 

Lost in the moment, you were made jump when you felt a hand softly rest on your arm, turning to see a weathered friendly face smiling back at you;

“Young lady, you must be cold, come, we have chai on the stove!”

The residents of the neighbouring houses had come out to see what was going on, and you realised Ben was helping the family in the flat that lived below him to pull their kids out through the ground floor windows. The distant sound of sirens was getting closer, and as the fire engines roared into the street the older Indian woman was pulling you into her house along with other residents of the flats.

An hour later you had your fill of spiced chai, and had been kindly gifted a pair of flip flop sandals to wear as you’d left your heels in Ben’s flat. Thanking your hosts who’d no idea who you were, you called for an Uber as you went to find Ben, seeing him standing outside with some other people who were talking to the fire fighters. You gave him a little wave and he trotted over;

“Hey, are you ok?”

“Yeah i’m fine. I’m going to head back to my hotel. Do you need somewhere to stay?”

Ben glanced back at his place;

“I think we’re going to be fine. The fire was just confined to one flat and the water hasn’t seeped down through to my side of the building”

“Ok, if you’re sure. But just in case…” you fished around in your small bag for the keycard to your hotel room, knowing that the little paper slip it was in had the hotel name and room number on; “Just give me a call, this is where i’m staying”

He took it, before ducking down and pressing a brief kiss to your lips;

“Message me when you’re back ok?”

“Sure”

-

You woke to a loud knocking on your hotel room door. You’d slept fitfully, even having a shower in the middle of the night to try to help relax your mind, but it hadn’t helped. 

“Okay okay i’m coming” grabbing the Netflix t-shirt you pulled it on, grateful it came to your thighs as you slept naked. Peering through the spy hole in the door you were surprised to see Ben standing outside, opening the door you greeted him;

“Ben, what are you…?”

He held up your shoes;

“Just getting some practice in for my next role, bringing Cinders her slippers”

Although it was early morning and the hallway was deserted, you were aware paparazzi were known to creep the hallways of hotels after awards shows, so grabbed Ben by his shirt and pulled him into the room.

“Oh” he raised his eyebrows as he allowed you to manhandle him, but that was the sum total of the control he allowed as you immediately found yourself pressed to the wall, his lips finding yours.

The lingering scent of smoke still clung to him, but as his hand strayed to the hem of your tee it didn’t matter, instead you wound your fingers through his soft brown hair, pulling him closer as his massive hands gripped at your hips. His kisses moved to your cheek and neck before you felt his lips against your ear;

“No panties?”

“I… I sleep naked, i just threw this on to answer the door”

His hand moved between your thighs, long fingers quickly teasing through your folds;

“Already soaking wet”

“I need you, right now”

Your fingers were on his jeans and with practised skill you had unzipped him, letting his jeans fall to the floor as you pushed his boxers down enough to free his shaft. He pulled your t-shirt over your head before you were immediately back, grasping him as you relished the feel of his hardness in your hands. 

“You done playing yet? I wanna get it wet”

You smirked;

“Sarcastic much?”

He didn’t answer, instead he grabbed one of your legs and pulled it over his hip, bending his knees a little before he was able to slide his shaft through your folds. Bumping at your clit he grinned as you gasped, before the smirk on his face turned darker and he rolled his hips, pushing himself inside you.

You both stilled for a moment, your bodies getting used to being joined carnally. With one hand on your hip his other strayed to your breasts, squeezing them roughly before rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. The slight pain only accentuated your arousal, your body wanting to push ever closer to him for more stimulation. All the while he worked his narrow hips, thrusting into your pliable body as you took him so well. Your foot could barely touch the floor, on tiptoes you grasped at his shoulders to prevent yourself from falling, surprised when he grabbed your leg and lifted it so he was now completely holding you up as he pressed you to the wall. 

“So good, your cunt is like a vice, i could spend all day in here, fucking load after load of cum into you. You got an interview later? I want you in a dress with no panties, so i know millions of people will be completely unaware of my cum dripping down your thigh, my seed marking you”

You pressed your head back to the wall, almost overwhelmed from everything and that’s when you felt his finger rubbing against your clit;

“Need you to cum for me”

You whimpered, you could feel the pleasure building within you, knowing it would only take a couple more thrusts for you to flood his shaft;

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, that’s it, keep doing that…. Oh my god, Bennnnnnnnn”

You came violently, clinging to his shoulders as your body shook, waves of euphoria flowing through your body. Just as you were coming down, still floating on echoes of your orgasm, Ben’s thrusts grew erratic, his quiet curses under his breath before he pulled out and you watch as he came over your mound, coating you in his creamy spend. 

Breathless he rested his forehead against yours, and in a moment of clarity you gently pushed his hair out of his face;

“So what happened to filling me with load after load?”

“Almost-nut clarity… consent, grown up conversations we should have had first about contraception…”

You pressed a kiss to his lips;

“You fuck like a roughneck but have the heart of a gentleman”

Returning your kiss he grinned against your lips;

“I want to fuck you again”

“Shower first. You smell like a chimney sweep. How about we shower, order some breakfast on room service, and spend the rest of the morning having grown up conversations and doing grown up things in bed?”

“Sounds perfect” he was already stripping out of his clothing as you started towards the bathroom; “Plus i want to go down on you in the shower”

It was said that only the best after show parties went on until well past daylight the next day, and this was by far the best party you’d ever attended.

#Ben Barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes smut #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes x you

[godspellcraft]

intro post 👋

hello! i’d prefer to stay anonymous but i wanna give a little info about what i do for anyone who may be in the same boat :)

i was raised catholic. i also have ocd which for a long time warped my catholic upbringing into scrupulosity/religious ocd (obsessively trying to always do the “right” thing lest i go to hell, compulsively keeping track of my “sins”, etc).

YEARS ago in middle/high school i had a friend who got into wicca and she invited me over for a full moon ceremony in her yard, and (despite that ocd-voice yelling at me and making me anxious the whole time about whether this was all okay) i was really struck by how beautiful and NATURAL it felt- being outside, including stones and herbal tea, making wishes on candles- and i secretly prayed throughout the whole thing, both as an ocd protective measure (still very much worried about hell), and, now i realize, as a perfectly natural addition to the ritual. i was raised to believe that God created the earth and everything on it…. why couldn’t i connect with Him THROUGH that creation? where church often made me feel anxious and LESS than, i’ve never had any problem feeling connected and distinctly “magical” when i’m outside interacting with the natural world. but at that point i was still too anxious and scrupulous about it all to really do any exploring.

flash forward to college and i started a small crystal collection, mainly for aesthetic, but also with a bit of curiosity. flash forward again and i’ve discovered Christian witchcraft is in fact A Thing, that the Bible’s been translated a million times and that whole “witch” line is pretty negligible, and Hildegarde Von Bingen was doing crystals before it was cool. in a weird way the pendulum has swung back to the other side, and i’m probably more catholic now than ever, but in the healthiest, most fun, magical way that makes so much sense to me. I talk to God & Jesus with tarot cards, i keep candles for some favorite saints (St. Beatrice Da Silva, my confirmation saint, St. Francis of Assisi, St. Mary Magdalene, St. Michael Archangel, and of course Mother Mary), and I can name the correspondences of a long list of herbs and crystals and use them to set goals for myself and to create what i think of as “physical petitions” (spells). where i used to pray obsessively, never feeling like i “did it *quite* right”, now i can put some herbs in a bottle and truly let it go.

i still feel i have a lot to learn. i know a lot of the theory, but i just need practice really connecting. i’ve definitely had some strange coincidences that are hard to brush off, but i’m still growing and learning every day.

so welcome to whatever this is! i hope you can find some of it useful or interesting.

and im a scorpio? if that’s important lol

edit: tags

#christian witch #catholic witch #folk witch #folk witchcraft #folk catholicism #saintwork #jesus witch #journal #digital grimoire #scorpio

[wing-ed-thing]

Magpie (Kakuzu x Reader)

Synopsis: Originally sent to assassinate you for hunting down low-level Akatsuki sympathizers, Kakuzu finds that you and him have much more in common than he would have thought.

Word Count: 1.3k

Tags/Warnings: LoanShark!Reader, Canon-Typical Violence, No Reader Pronouns, Laughably Fake Finance Talk

Notes: These two panels are really funny out of context.

Just because Kakuzu liked money doesn’t mean he liked to be showy about it.

But you…

You sat among your riches, draped in expensive silks. The room almost made Kakuzu scoff, with the surrounding clutter of treasures almost matching the ornaments that littered your body. Intricately embroidered patterns were adorned with precious jewels that swooped from shiny chains. You decorated yourself like a shrine to a famed deity and sat among your wealth like the royalty of old.

It was a waste, Kakuzu thought. The artifacts weren’t even sold for ryō, not to mention you kept everything in one place. He stood on a mountain of gold coins, one booted foot propped up onto the incline. 

“I’ve been sent to kill you,” he said curtly. You frowned, studying him up and down, your cheek resting elegantly against your knuckles. 

“So I’ve been told.” You leaned forward, plucking a large, bound book from next to your ornate chair. Kakuzu watched silently as you flipped through the wide pages of handwritten lines. “Thirteen-thousand, forty-one-thousand, sixty-eight-thousand, ninety-five-thousand, your men owe me over one-hundred-ten-thousand ryō, and your leader sends an assassin rather than payment for my gracious loan?”

You let the heavy book slap closed, the sound sharper than it should have been for a book. 

“You’re pitiful magpie, aren’t you?” Kakuzu stepped up the amassment of treasure, sliding as the precious metals shuffled downward. “If you had allowed time for repayment rather than slaughtering mere ants and thrusting an accumulated debt onto the organization, perhaps I wouldn’t be standing here.” He took another step with a dangerous dip of his head. “The organization hadn’t been pleased that a loan shark has been snatching our boots on the ground. When I’m finished, I will be taking your collection and the price on your head to make up for it.”

Kakuzu lunged at you, launching his thread-like tendrils from his hand. You stood instantly, intercepting and spooling the dark threads around an encrusted scepter. You held it under your arm, one hand on the far end to leverage it. 

“My money, huh?” you spat with a crinkled nose. “A bounty hunter. Of course, they would send a bottom feeder like you.” 

“Says the loan shark.”

“But you know what, bounty hunter?” You released the scepter, allowing the broken tension to send Kakuzu sliding a meter down the mountain of gold, his boot sinking up to his calf into the coins. You were on him faster than he could blink. Kakuzu recoiled as a long slit opened on his cheek right under his eye. Your gaze darkened with raging fury. “You’re not going to touch a single ryō of my money!”

You charged at him with a qiang spear, twirling the weapon's length over your wrist to counter Kakuzu’s attack. And then you struck with a strength disproportionate to your physique. Over and over, you lunged at him with your spear, and Kakuzu suddenly found himself on the offense.

He slipped again on the pile, and you took advantage of his vulnerability. You moved to strike him directly in the chest, but he dropped to his knees to slide to the bottom of the treasure, raking his fingers through your riches as he went.

You scowled down at him, legs bent to steady yourself from where you stood on the high ground. Kakuzu rose, a few coins cascading from his fingers. He huffed with a noticeable rise and lowering of his shoulders.

“What a waste,” he muttered as they clattered to the ground. “You don’t even deserve what you have.” Kakuzu barely had time to speak. You kicked over a nearby mirror, using it to skate down the amalgamation of gold with increasing velocity.

You were engaged again, slashing at him only to be blocked. You maneuvered around each other, exchanging blows and looking for an opening. Kakuzu drew a kunai, tendrils weaving around your spear to land a shallow slash across your stomach. You recoiled, stumbling back to land against the riches behind you.

Kakuzu observed you as you stood, using your spear to bring yourself to your feet. 

“You shouldn’t be so careless when it comes to a resource as precious as money,” he lectured, looking on in disdain as a few drops of blood trickled down onto the gold. “You’re lucky that you haven’t been robbed blind before. But don’t worry—” Kakuzu’s skin broke apart to reveal the raving sea of black threads that wriggled within his limbs. —“I will take very good care of your fortune, pitiful magpie.” 

Kakuzu rushed you, and you quickly assumed the defensive, straining against the force laid on your spear as you fought him off with unceasing fury.

“You think this is all I have? Don’t make me laugh!” Your voice strained as you fought to push forward. “As if the real good stuff wouldn’t be in a 108-Keikaku!” You slashed forward but only met air. Kakuzu had recoiled with a conflicted glint in his eye.

“You have a 108-Keikaku?” His brows knitted together, confused. You shrugged almost sheepishly, spear still in hand, and pointed toward the ceiling.

“I thought I’d be in trouble if I didn’t have one. I can’t say it’s my finest investment, but it’s far more practical than the—”

— “Tsurugi Plan,” you said in unison. Kakuzu nodded, almost adamantly. His limbs had reverted to their normal appearance. You matched his furrowed brow as your head jerked skeptically to the side.  

“You invest?” 

Kakuzu scoffed as if you should’ve known better than to ask. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Of course I do,” he said as if it were obvious. “I wouldn’t have expected a lowly loan shark to have a 108-Keikaku.” You rolled your eyes, now holding your spear away as you leaned on your back leg. 

“I prefer to invest in small businesses.”

“Small businesses, please.” Kakuzu shifted where he stood in disbelief, and another shake of his head. “Hardly practical for someone in your line of work.” At this point, Kakuzu had sat down, and you had nearly set down your weapon altogether. 

“Side hobby, I guess. To sate the restlessness,” you said with a semblance of a laugh, almost in thought. “We used to have a different culture before the Five Nation Treaty and shinobi work—”

“It’s truly a dying art form, isn’t it?” 

You plopped down on the floor with crossed legs, flinching as the movement irritated your wound. Your spear clattered down in front of you as you hummed to yourself. Kakuzu kicked his boots up on a small chest, intertwined fingers resting on his lap. 

“What’s a bounty hunter doing with a terrorist organization?” 

“The Akatsuki allow for quite the moneymaking opportunities.” 

“Is that so?” You glanced around the room, taking a moment to ponder to yourself before you stood, settling your gaze back on Kakuzu. “Whatever you’re being paid, I’ll double it.” Kakuzu barked out a laugh. His boots kicked over the chest in front of him and his soles settled into the coins on the ground below.

“Oh really?” He leaned forward with eyes narrowed in intrigue. 

“You can go on any collection that you’d like and take a cut. I won’t interfere or collect on any bounties you pursue in your spare time.” You moved forward, meeting his stare as you dared to approach him. Kakuzu cocked his head.

“What cut?”

“Eighty-twenty.”

“Ha!” He barked again, the laugh making his chest jump. “I hope you’re the one taking the twenty percent.” You stopped in front of him with a scowl.

“I hope you’re not expecting fifty-fifty on my collections?” Kakuzu admired the dip of your lip. Yes, you were serious about money. “I’ll pay you double. Outside of collections, you may do as you please. You’ll get twenty-five. It’s more than generous.”

“Thirty-five.”

“Thirty.”

“Deal.”

Kakuzu stood with a start and your two palms came together with a firm clap. 

“You have a firm shake,” Kakuzu commented.

“Anything less is an insult to my partners,” you said, and Kakuzu fell in love instantly.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: There's a reason I rebloged the "just according to Keikaku" meme earlier this week. I was thinking to myself, "what's a fake finance plan" and I knew immediately what needed to be done.

For any fans of Mob Wife, while not "canon" haha I'd like to think that this is how Kakuzu and Mob Wife met. I think it's funny to consider how easily recruited so many of the Akatsuki members were haha

#kakuzu x reader #akatsuki x reader #kakuzu #naruto kakuzu #akatsuki #naruto #naruto x reader #reader insert #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #x reader #x you #naruto fanfic #naruto fanfiction #x gn!reader

[mundanemoongirl]

WIP Introductions

I’ve been posting about my wips for a while, but I never formally introduced them. So here they are!

Spiritwalker

Genre: YA fantasy, dark fantasy

Tag: spiritwalker wip

Status: Second draft

Triggers: Death, murder, suicide, self-mutilation

Summary

Lady Daron Spiritwalker lives in a world of witches, plague, and war. She is the seemingly perfect heir to her clan and is known across Serenta, the country of witches, for her beauty, intelligence, leadership, and ability to bridge spirits, which only her clan can see and communicate with.

When she is sent to an academy that only the most elite witches attend, she expects a normal education, but instead receives a deadly fortune and discovers secrets within the walls that reshapes the way she sees her world.

Daron is not the type to make friends, but when faced with this problem much bigger than herself, she learns to rely on and even love a group of her schoolmates.

Snippet

Ann Marie, Maya, and I all looked at each other. From their blank faces I could tell that they were just as confused as I was. “What does that mean?” asked Maya. “I presume it means that pressing the hand on the wall opens something. A passageway maybe.” “I already checked the other mosaics and none of them have runes. Who would defile a depiction of our goddess like this?” Ann Marie asked with as much indignation as her soft voice could muster. “There is only one way to find out,” I said, placing my hand atop my goddess’. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Maya asked. “It could be a trap.” “That is why you are here. You know what to do if something happens to me.” I knew how to read the signs. Someone was calling out for a Spiritwalker’s attention, and no matter who it was or how many warnings I received, I was not going to ignore the call. I would be a failure as a primary lady if I did.  The icy tiles warmed beneath my skin, letting me know that I was taking too long. I pushed and the section of wall behind the mosaic shuttered, but I still needed more force. I pressed my other hand to the wall and pushed harder, straining the muscles in my back and shoulders. The wall moved inwards this time, rotating like a cog. When it was just a sliver centered between two gaps, I gestured to Maya. “Are you coming?” The younger witch, ever loyal, followed me into the pitch black that awaited us. The smell of mold slapped me in the face, and I had to resist the urge to cover my nose in order to keep my grip on the wall. I stretched my foot as far as it would go, trying to gauge how far the passage went, but only felt emptiness. This vast, dark, unknown space should have frightened me, but instead I was struck with a strange familiarity. I had been here before—in my dreams.

We Faceless Folk

Genre: Mystery

Tag: we faceless folk wip

Status: First draft

Triggers: Racism, kidnapping

Summary

Rachel is a second-year Black college student and loves nothing more than watching movies from her comfy bed and hanging out with her photogrophy-loving girlfriend, Chinwe. But one day Chinwe goes to a concert and never returns. When Rachel gets no answers from the police and is sure they aren’t even looking, she takes to finding Chinwe herself.

Rachel finds clues in Chinwe’s Instagram and even enlists the help of Chinwe’s unhinged ex girlfriend. In her search, she discovers more about Chinwe than she’s ever known, including where Chinwe’s really from.

Snippet

Sometimes when I lay still long enough for my mind to lose control over where my thoughts roam, and the late summer heat blurs the lines between reality and imagination, I swear I can hear her voice. Her lips just shy of my ear, whispering something unintelligible. I turn to hear her better, but of course she’s not there. Chinwe’s been missing for two weeks. The door clicks as my roommate enters the room. We hardly ever talk. I don’t hate her, and I don’t think she hates me, but she lost interest in me pretty quickly after she discovered I’m a homebody. She’s been talking to me more ever since Chinwe disappeared. Not starting actual conversations, but reminding me of things I needed to do. When she walks in and still sees me in bed when I’m usually heading out the door, she asks, “Don’t you have class soon?” I do, but I don’t want to go. I don’t want to sit in that room that feels too large and yet suffocating with Chinwe’s empty seat next to mine. I groan and run my hands over my braids. Just one class and then I can get out of here. I can do that.

#writeblr #spiritwalker wip #we faceless folk wip #wip #wip intro #writers on tumblr #writing #creative writing #fantasy #dark fantasy #fantasy writing #mystery #black writers

[freneticfloetry]

weekend wip game

Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more).

Thanks to @welcometololaland for kicking this off, plus @liminalmemories21, @rmd-writes, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @orchidscript, @alrightbuckaroo, and @heartstringsduet for the tags!

1. WIP List: had we but world enough (and time) (the TiMER fic) a strong enough foundation (followup to tbah in the Roots Before Branches series, aka “five times Morgan was just like her daddy, and one time she was all her papá”) for better, for worse (bachelor party shenanigans) we were emergencies (the It’s a Wonderful Life/Sliding Doors-esque TK AU) the same in every language (five times Carlos says something in Spanish during sex and one time TK understands) show me the steps so i can go through the motions (4x18 Carlos & Gabriel tag) our hearts are haunted by the ghosts that i made (the no coma AU that angst built) Still Sadly Untitled Phone Fic (five times Tarlos had to replace a phone) Untitled HGTV AU Untitled [Film] Fusion Untitled Breakup Era Hookup (accidental club run-in where Jealous TK Makes Choices) Untitled [Redacted] AU (collab with @ambiguouspenny) The One Where Carlos Gets Shot …do you know how happy I am that to build a home is not on this list?

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest? The TiMER fic! It wasn’t even supposed to be second in line, it just bullied its way to the top of the list.

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest? Oof. If I didn’t know myself so well, I’d say we were emergencies, but since I do, it’ll probably be the HGTV fic.

4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why? The TiMER fic has been a lot of fun to write, despite it being hurtier than I intended, but I think that’s just down to being in TK’s head for the first time. But every single snippet of for better, for worse makes me grin like a loon without fail, so it’s that one, hands down.

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why? Hat trick for the TiMER AU. I think I was so excited about the premise and the possibilities of it all — I’ve wanted to write a TiMER fic since I first saw the movie, and a Soulmates fic for even longer — I didn’t really stop to consider that, after ~64k of building on and in-between canon, I was going to have to… build on and in-between canon. There’s a substantial element of re-imagining for this one, just because of the nature of the TiMER as a literal plot device, but there are times I’m still like fuuuuuck, I have to do this thing completely differently now.

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why? the same in every language. It’s not a plot-what-plot, it’s literally sex as plot, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about making it work.

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why? Both for better, for worse and we were emergencies will need outside attention to make sure they’re working as planned, and I’ll definitely be enlisting @hoko-onchi-writes’ Smutmancer services to make sure the same in every language is worth anything at all.

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block? I’m just laughing right now. That’s my answer.

9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them? Definitely we were emergencies. His name is Simon, he’s a vet (as in healer of animals, not former military man, but he has Seen Some Things in his particular line of work so the latter isn’t far off), and he has a history with Carlos that he’d very much like to be a future with Carlos. He’s also totally scruff-and-curls era Zane Phillips in my head, and both @ambiguouspenny and I are sort of shamelessly infatuated with him. To quote Tay, after being virtually introduced to Dr. Simon: “do you even like TK?”

10. Which WIP is the sexiest? One would think it’s the aforementioned fic where sex is the plot, but the TiMER fic has some moments, y’all.

11. Which WIP is the angstiest? I mean, pick your poison. As I said, the TiMER fic is angstier than intended. The Breakup Era Hookup will be hot angst, but angst nonetheless. There’s one where Carlos gets shot. And I know it sounds like show me the steps so i can go through the motions might be an obvious answer, considering The Gabriel Factor, but the real winner is probably our hearts are haunted by the ghosts that i made. I told Tay the actual premise and they threw me in angst jail.

12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)? a strong enough foundation is a real contender here, because it’s the Carlos I already know and love, but I think it might actually be for better, for worse, simply because it’s all of Team Tarloft, and I have something of a knack for ensemble fics, if I do say so myself.

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)? Either the HGTV fic or the Untitled Film Fusion. Probably the former, because pretty pretty interiors are like porn for me.

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on? Surprising no one, the TiMER fic. Snippets aside, I’m a “one WIP at a time” kind of girl.

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why? In a weird way, I think this is usually the fic I’m currently working on. Some Yuletide fic aside (mostly pinch hits and quick treats), I always want to feel like whatever I’m writing is the best thing I’ve done — that way I get the sense that I’m growing. That said, though I’ve written a kid in fic (Teddy from The Magicians), I have never written kidfic, and the plan I have for a strong enough foundation makes me really excited.

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs? Not the actual fics, no, but I do dream about characters.

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't? our hearts are haunted by the ghosts that i made has to tread some very thin ice, due to its premise, and I’m hoping I can find the right balance with it. And that it doesn’t make people hate me.

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour? for better, for worse. And it’s not even close.

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process? The Untitled Phone Fic has an outsider POV! An OC outsider, even. She’s an overworked, underpaid girl named Kelsey, and she’s sort of precious. This one’s still in early stages, just an outline and a handful of snippets, but Kelsey is very clear in my head.

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs. One involves an unreliable narrator, one involves an inanimate object as a running theme, and one involves revenge.

I am so very late to this, so consider it an open tag for anyone who’d still like to talk WIPs!

#fic meme #wip game #writing #the proverbial plate

[bullet-prooflove]

Return On Investment: Greg ‘Mouse’ Gerwitz x Reader

Tagging:      @kimm4710​   @k-k0129​    @cosmic-psychickitty​   @daniacat​    @enchantedblackrose​  @ikbenplant​    @crazy4chickennuggets​   @neapolitantoebeans​   @cixrosie​   @halsteadloversworld​  @i-spaced-sorry    @1234-angelika

From @cosmic-psychickitty​ little prompt!

“The boys I've been with say I’ve got no soul.” You revealed to Greg as the two of you sat in the cloakroom of the wedding venue. The two of you were sitting on the floor, shoulders pressed together as you leaned back against the wall sharing a bottle of Moet between the two of you. The litany of coats shielded you from view as you kicked off your heels and crossed your ankles in front of you.

"The key word is boys." Greg informed you, sipping from the champagne bottle before handing it to you. It was quieter here. The thrum of the music a low pitch on the opposite side of the wall. He appreciated your thoughtfulness. Sometimes the noise became too much, it struck some chord in his brain that thrust him back to another time, another place. You must have seen the wild look in his eyes, recognised it. There were few people who knew the extent of his PTSD, who understood it. He knew the stuff he dealt with; his history would send any other woman running away screaming but you it didn’t seem to phase. You took everything in your stride, that was just one of the things he loved about you. You had seen the worst of him, and you didn’t flinch.

"All the guys you've dated... " he paused, trying to select his words carefully. It was in his nature to be honest; it was the foundations on which your friendship was built. You didn’t shy away from the truth, and you valued his opinion. "They don't know the real you, and you don't let them. You want the companionship but not the investment."

Investment…

ROI…

All terms the last guy had thrown around before you’d cut him loose.

He was right of course. Nothing lasted more than a couple of dates in your world, you were tired, disillusioned. Romance was a fairy-tale for other people, ones who hadn’t been on the front line, one who still believed that there was something good in the world. Those boys didn’t have a clue how to deal with someone like you, you were messy, complicated, too much.

Of course, there was another reason for your disinterest. They could never live up to the man you really wanted. The one you thought of every single night before you fell asleep. It was unfair of you to expect it.

“They can’t love me.” You said quietly, setting the champagne bottle down alongside of you. “How could they? They haven’t seen the same things, had the same experiences. They don’t know what it’s like to be broken down, to try and put yourself back together again.”

“Do you think you’re too damaged to be loved?” he asked you, those stunning blue eyes of his burning with intensity as he lingered in your proximity. He could see the pain in your eyes, the agony, the loneliness and it killed him. He wanted to sweep it all away, to remind you that you were one of the strongest people he knew, that life was a battle, and nobody came out unscathed.

Your silence was an answer in itself. "You think I don't know how hard it is?" he asked you, his voice rough with emotion as he spoke. "To crave something so much but never allowing yourself to have it."

Your breath caught in your throat as his gaze lowered to your lips. His scent was in your nose, you inhaled the rich scent of sandalwood as he lingered in your proximity.

“I know you.” He whispered, his thumb trailing over the apple of your cheek as he looked into your eyes. “I’ve seen the darkness and I’ve seen the light and I know you are worthy of love.”

“Do you love me, Greg?” You asked him, your voice lowering an octave as the truth spilled from your lips. “Do you love me as much as I love you?”

“Baby, the two of us are meant for one another.” He smiled as his lips brushed over yours. “I want to spend the rest of the night showing you that.” Love Greg? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#greg mouse gerwitz #greg gerwitz imagine #greg gerwitz x reader #greg gerwitz #mouse gerwitz #greg mouse gerwitz x reader

[agentnatesewell]

3 and 25 for the book meme! (If they've been asked, then wild card: Which book has taken up the most rent in your head recently?)

Hello, my friend! Thank you for the asks! I’m going to combine two of the questions as they involve the same books

3. What were your top five books of the year? + Which cook has taken up the most rent in your head recently

There were about four books I could not get out of my mind. Three are from my top five

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue - This book changed me … the storytelling, the circumstances that Addie found herself in. My darling Henry. Unnamed character who was so dastardly yet so interesting. There was a line that just struck me, and reminded me of N Sewell (so you know I’ll love it)

Beautiful World, Where Are You - This one had a unique prose. No dialogue tags, no quotations, and did not break when people were talking. But the skill Sally Rooney has in how she tells a story, that the book was so easy and immersive to read. It had emails back and forth to start off the chapters before moving into the present of the two main characters. I loved it. I adored it. Plus it had a little phone sex scene that was seriously lives in my mind rent free

Hello, Beautiful - This story focuses on a man and the family of sisters he marries into and it spans thirty or so whats and is told through the perspective of three characters. It’s so engaging, it’s full of drama and heart and tears, and so good. Lived in my mind as (which I’ve said prev) that one character really gave me some insight into Suri and helped sort of mold her in my mind

The Great Believers - Not one of my top five because I felt half of the book was unnecessary. This was a book I tackled for the subject of grief, and it focused on a main character and his group of friends in the 80s-90s (other pov was another friend but in modern years) right at the beginning and spanning the AIDS crisis, taking place in Chicago. I could not stop thinking about the main character and his boyfriend and friends as they all tried to navigate the crisis. It’s so engaging and haunting, and I think you can skip the other POV but read the end!

25. What reading goals do you have for next year?

My biggest goal is to read at least eight, if not more, books from the library’s annual reading challenge! And to finish The Wallflowers series by Lisa Kleypas

#thank you for the ask! #this was a long one too much to say too much to say! #asks #book asks

[lonk-of-hope]

The lands of Hyrule is struck with a terrible plague of nightmares. No one able to sleep or rest without absolute terror filling their minds. Without the energy, the people find no will to work or play. But yet, one boy seems unaffected by these night terrors. Growing wary everyday for his siblings, the boy takes it upon himself to figure what has been happening to the world.

Equipped with a poorly made rapier and dusty old tunic, a boy named Lonk sets off for Hyrule Castle. As he uncovers the truth to what’s really happening, will he be able to stop it?

He wants to protect the world that he loves, the people he loves, but what can he do when he’s not the chosen hero?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello Hello! My name is Shizi and i’ve had this AU idea just living rent free in my head for a while now! And i wanted to share it somewhere.

As you might know, Lonk is an old mii and meme from that originated years ago thanks to Street Pass. He’s just a funny version of our beloved Hero of Hyrule, Link!

I use the Lonk mii a lot for a couple games, like Miitopia. And while reading the comic @linkeduniverse by Jojo sent me down a spiral of character ideas for Lonk. Ranging from his adventure, world, and even some weapons.

So if you’re interested, ask some questions about the world and stuff, i’d be more then happy to talk about this world and get my brain juice running.

Up to this point, only a few vague concepts have been set in stone and have been described above the cut. Even then these ideas can and will be improved upon in the future.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First Lonk concept drawings

~~The Legend of Zelda franchise is owned by Nintendo and made by Shigeru Miyamoto and Takashi Tezuka.~~

~~I didn’t make Lonk nor do i own him. I credit tainteddangel (username is most likely out of date, the original post was in 2013) for posting the first picture of Lonk.~~

~~Most story ideas are mine however. Aside from obvious inspiration taken from the LOZ universe, the actual story line is mine! I hope you enjoy <3~~

Also, if you want to make fan art or fanfics of this AU, go ahead! I have no right to stop you nor do i want to. Just use the tag #LonkHeroOfHope so i can see it! I’ll love to hear your thoughts and ideas.

#LonkHeroOfHope #the legend of zelda #link au #the legend of zelda au #fanart #fanfic

[feverinfeveroutfic]

the skeleton key | chapter one: jigsaw pieces

now this is a fic that’s been sitting in my repertoire for years, almost decade now. it was one of those things i just kept visualizing every now and again, and yet i never had the chops (or the courage for that matter) to come out with it. i thought about bringing it to life in late 2017, when i was offline, but i had other things happening. i tried resurrecting it in summer 2019, and then again during quarantine, to the point i had actually written down the first chapter, but then now it’s dark came along and i couldn’t resist that one and thus, i shelved it for two years (and summer of quarantine, as we all know, was… that). i tried it again in november 2021, but then almost immediately, i thought of dead man walking so i had to put it aside a third time. i just didn’t know what to do with it, like i had the story inside me, but i never knew who was featured in it.

hopefully, fourth time is a charm.

i like to say that my testament fics are the stories i’ve always wanted to write (and they are), but this unquestionably is that.

“I've got about five minutes left on my shift—could you wait a bit for me as I clean up?”

It had been a long day at the bakery and my feet were in utter agony and I had a headache from looking at price tags all day long. I knew I was going to have to go to the show smelling of fresh bread out of the oven as well as vanilla, but it was more than worth it in my eyes. If nothing else, we could possibly go to the show and meet up with those guys backstage by some random as hell chance. Marcy had come to the bakery to pick me up, all bright eyed and bushy tailed no less, and I was more than eager to clock out and head on over to the House of Blues to go and see Metal Allegiance.

She had suggested I make a drawing for those guys, and yet I needed the money to buy it all first. If nothing else, I could find myself in the odd chance that I struck up something with them in the meantime and I could do something down the line.

I was the artist, after all. The artist with the bakery at her helm.

I could do both if I so wished.

“You should whip up some brownies or something really quick,” she suggested to me as I tucked the cookie sheets under the display case. At least I didn't have to put up any day olds right then.

“Well, we're going to have to meet them first,” I told her as I switched off the light in the case; she blinked a few times and showed me a smile. She continued to smile with the little chai symbol around her neck. “You know how these things usually go at shows now.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a nod and a tucking of a curled lock of hair behind her ear.

It was my second concert after quarantine had ended: I had seen Eddie Vedder the year before not too far from there over at the Greek Theatre, and all the while, I was keeping my distance from people with that thick, heavy mask over my face. But I still managed to enjoy myself.

This was also going to be my very first metal show, as I usually frequented the alternative side of things: Marcy was the metalhead and she was the one taking me as a treat of sorts for being a good friend.

I took off my apron and hung it up on the rung in the next room, where I washed my hands. I glanced up at the clock which read two fifteen.

“What time does the show start?” I called out to her over the rush of the water.

“Eight o'clock,” she replied.

“Oh, we've got hours upon hours of time,” I assured her, and then I stopped in my tracks. “Is there a reason why you picked me up so early, besides the traffic obviously?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, you know.”

“I don't know,” I said as I dried off my hands. I doubled back to the front room of the bakery, and I treated her to a chuckle. “Don't tell me—”

“Don't tell you what, Al?”

“You know. All your little suggestions and the fact that I had been tiptoeing my way around it all. I know what this is.”

“Do you now?” She raised her eyebrows at me and treated me to that little cherubic smile. “Oh, Marcy Playground, what do I do with you.”

“Marcy Playground and Alison Chains, that's how we do,” she quipped. I signed myself out and switched off the light: some day, when I have my own bakery, I'll open the door at eight in the morning and close at dinner time, and I'll have an art gallery next door that'll be open until ten o'clock at night. A dream of mine, and yet it felt so out of reach.

“When do you get paid?” she asked me as we strode outside to her car: it was a cold day there near the beach, colder than either of us had been acquainted with, but the sun greeted us with a good day that day. Marcy adjusted her jacket to hide her pendant, even though we were the sole ones on the street at that moment.

“Tomorrow,” I replied. “Fridays, remember? Why?”

“Do you have money?” she asked as she unlocked the doors for us.

“Yes, of course. Again, why?”

“I'll explain in a bit.” We climbed into the car and she drove me out of Pleasant Valley Village, all the way up towards Ventura Boulevard. She drove me over to Ventura, right to the center of town: I was amazed that she had remembered the way there, given she hailed all the way from New York City and I was the California girl. But we reached the parking lot there, and she took the spot dead center of it all so we could look on at the art store there as it overlooked the beach itself. I leaned back in the seat with my head tilted back and my mouth agape.

“Marcy...” I groaned.

“You should!” she insisted. “You should totally draw them something. If you can't bake them something, you should at the very least draw them something instead. Remember? We talked about all of this?”

“Yeah, it was just a one time thing, too,” I recalled to her. “I also remember going to see Alice in Chains before the pandemic and I knew right away that I wasn't going to reach Jerry from where I was sitting. Like I said, Marce, the chances of it happening are so far out there, that it almost feels pointless to even think of doing it.”

“Was it pointless to make the drawing of Jerry?” she asked me, to which I paused for a moment.

“No. If anything, that was one of the drawings I was most proud of.” I paused again as I thought back to that big bright psychedelic drawing that I had made for Jerry, of him with Chris and also Lars. I still had it stashed away in the back of my desk drawer to keep it safe. “Yeah, that drawing was one of the highlights of that summer. The summer before quarantine.”

“Okay, now... do you think it's pointless to even try it out?”

I stopped again, that time with my thoughts going into making those artworks. I couldn't bake something, even with as much as I wanted to, but I could share art. I had to keep it with me at all times until I found a chance, and up to that point, I had often heard and read of stories of fans going to meet people like them, and it seemed to happen like a jigsaw puzzle falling into place. It had happened to me as well, but it was lightning in a bottle, though, and it always was with everyone else who had a story like that.

I had my doubts and my questions, but somehow, even through it all, I still held out a tiny ray of hope.

“Okay, well...” I began again, “before I go in there and spend the rest of my money on art supplies, what do you think I should I draw?”

“The four of them,” she insisted. “Mark, Alex, Dave, and Mike. You've got four hours, and I've watched you draw in a shorter amount of time, Al. You can do it.”

“You want me to go in there and get some paper and nice markers, and work on something here in the car?”

“Yes! Yes, you should!”

I pursed my lips. “I really don't know, Marce. I mean, like I said, we talked about this a few months back when they announced the ten year anniversary show. When I met Chris, it was such a one in million occurance that I really don't think anything like that could happen again.”

“Okay, but what if I helped you remember your thought process back then, though?” she asked me as she leaned in closer to me with her elbow rested upon the center console. “Do you remember what you were thinking back then before you made that painting? And also, before you made that drawing of Jerry?” I paused for a second: I sat there in a brief moment of disbelief that my meeting Chris had been nearly a decade ago at that point, a decade since I had gotten face to face with Chris. But I remembered it all, though. I still pictured it on the back of my mind as if it had just happened.

“Do it anyways,” I recalled in a low voice. “Because you never know.”

“You never know, exactly,” she assured me. I sighed through my nose and peered out the window to those front doors. We were down the parking lot from them, but I swore I could see my own reflection there.

I hoisted my purse off the floor from next to my feet, and I climbed out to the gray afternoon sunshine.

I closed the door behind me and strode up towards those big glass front doors. My mind fell blank from that point forward as I was guided by nothing more than my own heart. I never spent all of my money on the nice paper and that little set of alcohol markers as well as a new pencil, and it never registered in my mind until I found myself in the parking lot once again with Marcy next to me.

Four A3 sized sheets of paper for the drawings. I had their likenesses stuck inside of my mind. We had the ocean at our backs and the sun over us, and I let her watch me all the way until I was finished with all four of them.

It was days like that when I missed him. I was going to a show and yet, I knew in my heart that there was no way I could see him again. It was all too real when I saw Eddie, and more so at that very moment. I was going to a show, and I knew I was going to have him with me the entire time as well.

Once I had completed the drawings, I leaned back in the seat and signed them on the backs.

The one of Alex, a scene of him walking on the beach with the sunrise behind him, stuck out to me, because I never put so much thought into that one, that is until I took a good long look at him there with his shoulder length hair and the fact that I remembered his being a bit on the soft side, even while long and thin.

Almost like Chris.

Mark meanwhile reminded me of another ghost from the past, one that had slipped through my fingers without my realizing it until it was too late. Mike brought me back to another moment in time, one that I wished to forget, and Dave reminded me of someone who had fallen somewhere around the same time Chris had gone away as well.

They all reminded me of someone whom I used to know, and I never realized it until I signed my name on the back of the drawing of Alex. I sat there in silence with my hands rested upon my lap, whereby Marcy leaned into my face again.

“Are you okay?” she asked me in a low voice.

“Yeah,” I duly replied. “At least, I think I am.”

She raised her hand and turned the key, and we saw the time displayed on the dashboard. Three hours before we could even go into the venue, but we had to move things along to beat the evening rush hour. This was something that I definitely did not want to miss out on, even if it meant digging up some memories.

#the skeleton key #the skeleton key fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #metal allegiance #grunge #grunge fanfiction #heavy metal fanfic #chapter 1 #fic writing #writing #also on ao3 #text

[banannabethchase]

Not Really a Dick Pic - also on AO3

~

Pairing: Danny/Yuta

Rating: T, for excessive discussion of boners

For @wrestleprompts Week 4: asking permission to send a dick pic. This is a crackfic. This is chaos and nonsense and...I almost feel the need to apologize. Warnings for: excessive use of the word dick, mildly horny medical concerns, and bromoerotic interactions.

~

Wheeler blinks down at the phone. He closes the text app, and opens it again to make sure he’s reading it right.

Yup.

dude I think u broke my dick can u check

Wheeler sighs. He’d been hoping he’d been struck with an acute case of wishful thinking or word-based hallucinations, but nope. This was Danny Garcia, who he had just flattened in a tag match, asking him to check his dick.

Am I really the one to ask? I’m not a doctor.

yah but ur the 1 who did it so

Wheeler is sure he’s going to regret this. Go ahead and send me the picture.

He braces himself and tries to convince himself he won’t be a creepy combination of unprofessional and horny. It’s not really a dick pic. It’s a medical concern, possibly medical emergency, that his colleague is asking for help about. A boner is inappropriate. His, or Danny’s. He’s about to see Danny’s boner.

Oh boy.

His phone dings and Wheeler’s hands are, to be fair, a little shaky. It’s not because he’s into it. He’s not anticipating anything. He’s concerned for the wellbeing of his colleague.

Exhaling slowly, he opens the photo.

“Huh.”

It’s clinical, he tells himself, the way he examines the image. He notes a gentle curve to the left, a red-purple color, and thinks about the gory parts of Grey’s Anatomy to remind himself he’s here as a clinical support.

What’s the issue?

its bent it doesnt usually bend

Yeah, go to the doctor, man. This is not my area of expertise.

There’s a few minutes, and then there’s a phone call. “Why’d you land on my dick, anyway?”

“Hello, Daniel, nice to speak to you,” Wheeler grumbles. “Your dick looks fine.”

“But, like,” he huffs on the other end of the line. “You fell on my dick during the match. Why’d you fall on my dick?”

“I don’t know, man!” Wheeler finally says, throwing his free hand in the air. “Jesus, you can’t send a guy a dick pic and expect him to know how to deal with it.”

The other end of the line is quiet. “It wasn’t really a dick pic, technically.”

“It was close and I got flustered,” Wheeler retorts. He takes a deep breath. “Okay. I don’t notice anything wrong with your dick, okay? But, I, uh. I might not be the best reference, since I’ve never seen your dick before.”

“Would you want to?”

Now it’s Wheeler’s turn to go silent. “What?”

“Ignore that,” Danny says. “Fuck. I don’t know. I’m gonna, like, go to urgent care, get this checked out. And then next Wednesday I’ll come find you and – and apologize for the dick pic.”

Wheeler can’t fight a smile. “I thought you said it wasn’t a dick pic.”

“It wasn’t!” Danny says. “Stop – you broke my dick, and you’re making fun of me.”

“Wait a second,” Wheeler says, “does that mean – did you have a boner during our match?!”

“You and Claudio were – I had to – shut up!”

“Danny,” Wheeler says, “do you wanna get railed by Claudio?”

“No!”

The only other option hits Wheeler like a train. “Um. Do – do you want to –”

“Signal’s going out,” Danny says, “can’t hear you. Talk to you next week.”

Wheeler is left, baffled, staring at his cell phone. When the call closes, it goes back to the photo of Danny’s dick.

He allows himself to look at it, for real this time. “Goddamnit,” he mumbles. “This is the best dick I’ve ever seen.”

~

Full disclosure, this started as a HangMox fic, and then I realized that Mox isn't quite this much of a dumbass. But you know who is? Danny Garcia.

#DannYuta #Fucking dweebs JUST FUCK ABOUT IT #Anyway #This fic went seven directions into the sun I'm sorry #wtf i like wrestling now??? #in which sara writes

[coupsie-daisies]

Get To Believing | Lee Felix

Pairing: Lee Felix x GN!Reader

Genre: Theater AU? University AU, fluff

Summary: Felix never fully understood the appeal of musical theatre until his best friend roped him into working tech. He also never believed in love at first sight. Maybe he had a lot left to learn.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: vague descriptions of college theatre, it’s awkward as hell, anxious Felix, a mention or two of twice’s Jihyo

A/N: three posts in five days? I’m on a roll, or maybe I’m pushing the limits. Either way, more content than ever. Hope you enjoy!

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @sunnytaes // @burningupp // @bunnypig18 // @chrswolfie // @ferrethyun // @brownieracha // @ashia4​ (i know you didn’t ask but you’re stuck with me)

Felix really hadn’t wanted to be part of the university theater department. It actually was very low on the list of things he wanted to do, but he had a bit of spare time in his schedule that he’d really been hoping to capitalize on, and his roommate was in desperate need. A couple members of the tech team had dropped out of the production for reasons that Chan had been too worked up to disclose, and he’d promised that it would be super easy to get the hang of.

Felix was grateful that it actually was pretty easy to get the hang of, and he already knew a couple people running sound which is where he ended up spending his time. Felix was grateful that making friends came easily because most of the tech crew was nice to him, and when Chan was busy that soothed his anxiety.

He found himself spending a decent share of his time outside of the rehearsals with Chan and other members of the cast and crew, meeting Chan’s co-director, Minho, and various members of the cast. But no matter who he was with, his eyes were always gravitating toward you.

Felix didn’t actually believe in love at first sight, but whatever happened to him when he saw you for the first time made him wonder. You, on the stage in a pair of jeans and an oversize tee-shirt, learning choreography from one of the noonas. His face flushed pink and he could have sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest just at the sight of you.

He’d had to endure a wild amount of teasing from Chan for the way he stumbled over his words when the two of you were introduced. But he didn’t care, you’d smiled so bright at him and complimented his hair. He wondered if he had made an impression, if you actually remembered him among all the tech crew faces that you probably didn’t have time to think of between memorizing your lines, studying for your classes, and endlessly rehearsing for the show.

But even throughout all of that, he never heard you complain. Chan had told him that you were a theatre arts major. Felix figured there couldn’t be anything more suited to how passionate you were on the stage.

But none of those things were what really struck Felix about you. What always took him by surprise was your confidence. You took criticism with grace, never beating yourself up too much, and you were always willing to try something new, even if you’d never thought to try it before. Even off the stage, you held your head high. You didn’t hide yourself when you giggled, or try to make yourself smaller. And something about that made you absolutely radiant in his eyes.

“You know,” He told Chan over their meals back in their dorm. “I’ve never really understood wanting to go to a play before,”

Chan chuckled, knowing exactly where Felix’s mind was. He understood, you were like nothing he’d ever met and, if he were being quite honest with himself, he should have seen this coming. Felix was particularly susceptible to the sweetest things in life, and you most certainly fell into that category. He should have thought of introducing the two of you earlier. And if it weren’t for the fact that he knew you’d brush it off while you were working on the production, he’d probably be playing matchmaker for the two of you.

It wasn’t that you were disinterested in relationships, it was simply that you had yet to meet someone who understood your level of passion. When you cared about something it consumed you whole, even if only for a short period of time. Felix was similar, though the thing that usually consumed him was helping people to reach what they wanted. Chan thought that might click into place well for the two of you.

“I think I get it now. I mean, everyone works so hard and…” He trailed off, a bashful grin lifting onto his lips that had Chan laughing and reaching out to poke at his younger friend’s arm.

“Just say you like them already. There’s no shame in that, Lix.” He said, leaning back against the couch that he’d sat in front of. Felix spluttered. Of course he liked them, there was hardly anything he could imagine not liking. But to hear it out loud was different.

It wasn’t that Felix was shy per se, he was just afraid that you’d reject him offhand. He’d dated before, even been in love, but he’d never before been so entirely taken with someone. It scared him a little, but it was hard to be scared around you. You had a way of making the people around you brave.

“You should tell them if you like them so much,” Chan added. Felix shook his head adamantly. Still, Chan persisted. “I promise you won’t regret it. The worst that happens is they say they don’t want to go on a date – which they won’t say – and then you carry on just being friends.”

Sure, it was that easy on paper. But Felix didn’t know how to handle the idea of you rejecting him or looking at him differently. Not because you were perfect, or better than him, Felix knew that you were only human, but it was still intimidating.

“Just think about it. Next week is show week, don’t miss out just because you’re nervous, alright?” Chan smiled, standing up to take his dishes to the sink leaving Felix alone with his thoughts.

The next week was chaos, mostly because it was tech week which had the entire cast pushing his limits. Expectations were high, and as strict as Chan was, Minho was stricter which could be a bit intimidating. Felix had no doubt that he made his fair share of mistakes.

Nevertheless, things were generally running smoothly, and as everyone marched towards exhaustion and opening night nerves, you seemed to burn even brighter. Your stage presence was undeniable and, as much as it made Felix nervous (and, although he’d refuse to admit it, a fair bit jealous), your chemistry with your co-star had only gotten stronger.

Chan insisted it was normal, that the two of you were spending a lot of time building your relationship so you could work better together on stage. Don’t let it psych you out, his elder had insisted. Easier said than done, but he digressed.

Now, he was preparing with everyone else on the sound team as people filed in and found their seats. He’d never been to a theater production of this size, but even he was growing nervous with the number of people. Everyone was chattering over their headsets, and he was even more grateful than ever for everyone who was helping him along the way. It wasn’t overly difficult, but every now and then Felix’s nerves got the best of him and there were so many people counting on them to make this run smoothly on their end of things.

“You’re going to do fine, you know.” Felix spun around from where he was standing in the booth, looking out at the stage. You smiled, made up completely in costume, your makeup was done in the near gaudy fashion he’d learned was special for performance makeup. Even still, you looked breathtaking, and his lips curled up into a smile.

“Thanks, you are too. But you probably already know that.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you laughed.

“Thanks, Felix. Are you nervous? First shows always give people the jitters.” You made a show of shaking out your hands and bouncing your weight from side to side. “Just have to shake it out, and tell yourself it’ll be a great performance no matter what. And you haven’t let me down yet, so I’m sure you’ll keep up the good work.”

He hoped you didn’t see the way he blushed, or think anything of him clearing his throat. He was about to brush off the compliment and tease you for making him nervous about letting you down, or say something about how you didn’t need to think so highly of him, but then your presence fully clicked in his head.

“Wait, what are you doing up here? You should be getting ready and getting in the zone. Chan said you have a whole ritual before you go on.” His eyes were wide and frantic for a moment at the idea of you missing out on your routine.

You smiled, and for a second his thoughts left his head completely, and you laughed so sweetly that he swore he’d ascend. You shook your head.

“No, it’s okay. I’m all hyped up and ready for the stage. I just really wanted to come up here and talk to you before we started. Come find me after the show, okay? Promise?” You started carefully backing towards the door, keeping your eyes on him until he gave in, nodding and promising to find you. You nodded triumphantly and turned to hurry back down and get backstage before you got yourself into trouble.

Opening night went as smoothly as any opening night could, and the crowd sincerely seemed to love the show, though Felix couldn’t imagine anyone hating the show you put on. Once the show was wrapped up, and he got the go-ahead from Jihyo to go ahead and not worry about taking care of everything in the booth, Felix was grabbing his things and racing down to find you.

The cast was gathered outside the auditorium, giving their thanks and receiving praise in return. Felix admittedly didn’t love large crowds, but he steeled himself. If he could at least find Minho or Chan, maybe they could point him in your direction.

“Felix! Over here,” Your voice called, and instantly Felix looked up. He grinned, gently nudging and apologizing his way through the swarm of people until he was standing in front of you in all your radiance. You said one more quick thank you to the people you were talking to, an older couple who smiled at you and looked between you and Felix. You looked at him for a second before giggling and bowing your head to the couple.

Once they left, your attention was wholly on him.

“My biggest fans,” You joked, nodding towards the couple who had moved on to talk to a couple of your friends from the cast. “They’ve come to every show I’ve been in since I was 14.” You said with a laugh that made his stomach twist in knots.

“That’s really nice, I can see why they’d keep an eye on your career.” He complimented. You shrugged, but the glimmer in your eye was enough to show off that you appreciated his praise.

“How did it feel? Being part of something like that?” You asked him.

“Terrifying. I was so scared I was going to mess it all up,”

“Well, you did amazing. Seriously, I think the tech team is going to fight to keep you around.” You told him, reaching out to poke at his arm. “Thanks for helping out with this. I know Channie had to drag you into it, but everyone really appreciates you stepping up. I’ll take you out for ice cream or something sometime to thank you.”

“Yeah,” Felix reached up to touch his hair, trying to smooth it into place, not that it had been out of place to begin with. You’d noticed he did that sometimes when he was nervous. And how his fingers would always subconsciously find his pulse. It was cute, and part of you wondered if he was doing that during the show whenever he’d worry that he was going to slip up.

“Cool, it’s a date. I’ll find you sometime after the show closes and we can figure out a time.” You sent him a playful wink, and excused yourself, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the buzz of the crowd around him.

The rest of the week went by in a flash, performances only being broken up by class periods that he was restless to get through. Each show he hoped to be able to talk to you again, but you were always busy, always surrounded by people. The most he managed was a quick hello and a promise to talk soon. He held onto it as everyone prepared for the last performance.

The closing night carried a lot of emotions that Felix wasn’t expecting. He knew Chan had a habit of getting emotional come closing, but he never understood why until he was in it. The entire cast and crew were gathered on stage well before the doors opened, everyone in costume and ready to make the last run their best. Chan and Minho stood at the front alongside the other upperclassmen that had helped bring this outstanding project to fruition. Each of them took their turn giving a pep talk to the cast and crew and trying their hardest to keep everyone from crying and messing up their makeup.

As everyone dispersed, Felix found himself wallowing in a sense of fear and anxiety he hadn’t expected. You and him were hardly friends, and even though you’d agreed to talk, to get ice cream, to spend time together, things like that didn’t always come true. If he chickened out now, if he went back on his words, he’d regret it. He knew that. Chan was usually right when he pushed him, but sometimes it was harder to accept that than others.

“Hey, freckles,” You called. Felix jumped, turning to see that it was just the two of you on stage now, everyone else headed to finish getting ready or getting props set up. “What’s on your mind? You’re a million miles away.”

He shook his head. “Nothing, just wondering how you handle the end of this kind of stuff.”

He smiled at you, and you nodded.

“It’s hard, but you get used to the emotion after a while. I like to think about the opportunities it opens up instead of the door closing behind me, you know? There’ll be so many shows after this, and if I were stuck on this one, I wouldn’t get a chance to do them.”

He listened, and you reached out to take his hand. His palm was warm against yours. You squeezed it.

“You should help out with more shows. Maybe Jihyo will even let you take over the tech booth when she graduates.” You teased. “But first we have to finish this. Come on.”

Felix followed you off stage where you finally let go of his hand, splitting off to finish getting ready and leaving him alone again. This wasn’t an opportunity he was willing to miss out on.

As expected, the closing night performance was even better than the ones that came before it, everyone’s emotions manifesting in a tangible sort of energy in the room. Felix was even more drawn in than usual, and for the most part, things ran smoothly which finally allowed him to breathe. He was getting antsy as everyone took their final bows, even more so when Chan came out to make a short speech and recognize everyone. It all dragged on too long, his nerves getting the best of him and making his heart race,

But finally, the curtain closed, and the lights came up, and Felix only had a few more moments to wait before he could talk to you.

He wanted you to go out with him, of course he did, but there was a certain sort of comfort that came with the idea of just having it over with. Even if you rejected him and called him an idiot – not that he could picture you doing that, you were always so kind to him after all, he would have the wondering silenced.

There were more people than before, and Felix tried not to get overwhelmed by it, instead clutching at the bouquet of flowers he’d gotten. He’d had to ask for help, not sure if any decision would be good enough if it came from him. But in his hands he held an array of colorful flowers, wrapped in paper and tied with a ribbon as he followed the flow of people.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he found you, beaming as bright as ever despite the fact that you’d clearly shed a few tears over the end of the show. He wiped his palms on his thighs and took a deep breath.

“Lix, hey!” You called. He looked at you, brown eyes blown wide like a deer in the headlights. You laughed. Right, he was here to do something. He made his way over to you, holding out the bouquet gingerly.

“I got these for you. That’s a thing people do right? Bring flowers to performers?” He shifted his weight and you smiled.

“Thank you, Felix, they’re amazing. You didn’t have to do that,” Nevertheless you took them, admiring what you knew must have been a pretty penny’s worth of flowers. You were used to getting flowers, but this was more than that. And they were from Felix which only made them that much more special to you.

“I know, but I wanted to.” He promised, watching the way you admired the gift. It made a bit of pride rise in his chest, something he didn’t often feel, so he was happy to run with it. “Hey, I was wondering…you’ll have a bit more free time now that the show is done, right? I mean until your next ones?”

You looked at him, noting the way he reached up to fix his hair, the way his eyes seemed restless as they scanned your face. You nodded.

“Yeah, my schedule should be pretty open besides classes and whatever.” You agreed.

“Cool. Then I was thinking, and it’s totally fine if not but I thought I should ask before I never see you again, you know? But would you maybe wanna go out with me? On a date, I mean.”

You giggled, and he paused, finally looking at you properly. You nodded.

“Yeah, I was hoping you’d asked. I thought I was gonna have to ask you if you kept being all shy around me.” You told him. His lips parted in a silent question. “I’ve been trying to get Chan to nudge you into asking me for weeks now since I wasn’t exactly sure how you actually felt.”

“How I actually felt? Y/N, I’ve been head over heels for you for the past three months. I can’t believe I could have been taking you on dates this whole time.” He laughed, and his face tinted pink in the cutest way. You stepped closer, letting your hand find his again and pulling him towards you enough to press your lips to his in a quick kiss.

“Better get to believing then. No use wasting more time.”

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[ceph-the-ghost-writer]

Ten Random Lines Tag

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics/writing projects, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag people (ten if you want to follow the theme).

Thanks for the tag @late-to-the-fandom!

Zero pressure tag: @korblez/@outpost51 @dontjudgemeimawriter @magefaery @cryptidwritings @calicojackofficial @theimperiumchronicles @impaledlotus @lividdreamz @wintersstreams @silvertalonwritblr

From Phagophobia:

Neither Jonah Carver nor Elfy stood there. The projection didn’t quite capture the usual intensity of the caller’s eyes, but they lit up in other ways.

“Isaac,” said Renato Faria Dimas with the affection of an old friend and the sharp-toothed smile of a predator. “So glad I caught you.”

From The Primrose Path:

Ân stared at the green markers that matched The Exile Queen’s own banner, emblazoned with the rearing gold unicorn of her ancestors. His limbs hung as heavy and useless as if they were made of clay. How naïve they’d been. Like all Matroians, Ân had taken for granted that the war would proceed just as it had for hundreds of years.

From "Candid" (a currently unposted story!):

“Evening, friend.” The driver’s blue eyes shone beneath graying caterpillar brows and a rolled bandana headband. “Where you headed?”

The hitcher squinted into the dying blaze of the sunset as if they hadn't considered their route for the past ten hours already. The gilded light didn't reflect in their black eyes. They shrugged. “Wherever you’re going.”

“Right on. Dig those not all who wander are lost vibes. Hop in, friend.”

From "Go-Getter" (not yet posted):

“It won’t get any easier if I put this off. Humans aren’t…We like to avoid things. Make them out to be bigger and scarier than they really are most of the time.”

“My abilities take their toll, no matter how gentle I’m being. You’re no good to me broken.”

“Being upset isn’t going to kill me.” The growing steadiness in his voice seeped into his bones, reinforcing his resolve.

From The Memory Salesman. (not yet posted):

She didn’t give any ground. It came within kicking range, but Neva kept both bare feet planted on the cold floor. Even if she knocked the mind worm on its ass, she couldn’t bolt for the stairs while her chains were attached to a ring set in the ceiling.

From "Covenant" (cat short story for Halloween):

Humans forgot, but cats didn’t, and so they came. To keep the covenant, call the quarters, and renew the binding. For all their sakes.

From "Terms & Conditions":

Kinslayer finally pulled their hood back up. “What about the other one? The spook?”

“I’ve seen nothing yet to suggest they had a stake in the matter to begin with.” Although, crediting the whole disaster to Ceph’s secret design tempted him.

From a Whumptober entry:

Another hand clenched around Justin’s chin, spikes pricking the soft underside of his jaw. The morbid skull mask and distorted mouth leaned in, closer and closer. His heart spasmed from an awful moment of realization right before the stranger kissed him.

From Sunsworn:

A vicious smile of victory crossing her face, Tiên struck. She whipped the blade of her sun sword at his offered neck, hitting him not with the edge but the flat.

The inlays of blessed wood flared like miniature suns themselves, flooding the tent with dazzling light.

From "Running in the Rain, Falling in the River":

“What’s after you?”

Looking up from rattling the ice in his cup, Dimas gave them a baffled stare. “I’m sorry?”

“The holy water. You wouldn’t need it if nothing were chasing you.”

#tag games #writing tag games #dysthanasia #beyond & between #whump