[basics.]

[writing.]

[in progress.]

feel free to send messages or ask for my discord! if any of the links here are broken, please let me know.

softly considering doing a mini headcanon series for some of my completed fics? nothing too long or detailed but just sort of a ‘what happens next’/‘where are they now’ for reader & character so you all can have some closure :p

also holy shit???????

thank you so much for 16k i’m ???? when did this happen?? i am so honored to have you all here brainrotting with me 💗💗 feeling very lucky to be part of this community rn woof woof

truly nothing could have prepared me for how horny i am for emo batman .

[excerpts of upcoming works.]

so as i discovered on @dream-theory the other day, i have over 63,000 words of wips right now??

i'm trying to rev myself up to post more, so here are a few excerpts from some of my favorite unfinished works, ranging from smut to fucked up smut! if anything here looks interesting to you, lmk so i'll be extra motivated to finish it ♥︎

[BNHA] Hawks x reader /// Champagne Room

You wouldn’t call yourself a villain, but sometimes you get jobs. At first it was all anonymous: letters in your mailbox with no return address, voicemails from blocked numbers. A time and a date, a name, a list of questions. And a number. Your reward. You ignored the requests at first, but then the numbers got bigger and bigger—and hey, if they knew your phone number and your address you were already screwed, so…

You made it happen. You did your thing (seduction, interrogation, et cetera) same as usual, except this time you did it on command. It was just one time, and then then two times, and—wow, the money was good. Way better than what you were getting skimming cards. You’re saving up for a house now. You’re gonna retire early. Maybe all the times you got called a tease or a slut or a bitch in high school because of your quirk were worth it, because now the newspapers are starting to call you Heartbreaker. For a villain name, it has a nice ring to it.

how they fuck hcs: captains edition /// Bokuto, Oikawa, & Kuroo x f!reader (18+)

Bokuto Kotaro

open season thirsts [9/?] /// Iwaizumi x f!Reader x Oikawa (18+)

“Do you think she’ll be crying?”

There’s blood on the floor. Iwaizumi shifts where he’s crouching so that the edge of his shoe doesn’t touch it—bloodstains are such a pain to get out of leather. “What?”

“I mean, when we find her.” Oikawa nudges the body over with one hand and inspects the blank, glassy look pasted over the man’s face. “This one’s done. I think we’re good here.”

Iwaizumi straightens, throwing a cold glance down to confirm before turning back to his partner. “We should be thorough. This wouldn’t’ve happened if there weren’t rats running around in the first place—and what the hell does that mean? Why would she be crying?”

“Don’t you think she might be scared? She’s such a crybaby.”

Oikawa’s running fingers through his hair now to slick back the strands that fell out of place during the struggle, smoothing his hands down the pressed fabric of his suit to flatten out any stray wrinkles, and Iwaizumi recognizes the gestures against his will. Oikawa’s preening—freshening himself up so he looks good when they find you. God forbid the moron look anything less than his best in front of you, even though you’ve probably been tied to a chair for the better part of a week and you won’t give a fuck what they look like as long as they’re cutting the ropes off.

genuinely can’t believe that in the space of the past three days 1) my phone/only means of contact broke while i was in a foreign country and is now unusable 2) my flight home was cancelled and i ended up traveling without sleep or food for 30 hours and 3) i got the coronavirus :) it’s giving murder curse :)))

anyway double feature tm if i don’t forget again. mafia iwakawa x reader & gen fucking hcs. stay tuned !! oh and anon is back on as long as yall are on good behavior

soulmate whose red thread of fate is a collar and leash

frostbites /// Douma x f!Reader (18+)

You’ve never slept well in the cold.

Maybe you should’ve kept that in mind when you applied for a research assistant position on a tiny, uninhabited island off the Russian coast, but you thought you’d get used to it. You were sure—you were so sure, cocky little past-you—that you’d adapt to the below-freezing temperatures, that the worst part about the 2-month long field study would be the boredom of spending your days taking water samples and tagging birds with no cell service. But it’s not. The worst part is the cold.

So technically, one could argue that there’s a decent reason for you to be out of your bed tonight, yes? You couldn’t sleep from the stiff pain lancing through your sore muscles and the cold, so you made the (undeniably stupid, you’re now realizing) decision to leave camp and wander through the forest looking for…something. But by now you’re starting to regret it. You don’t think you’re far from camp, but everything feels sharper and stranger when you’re alone like this—the collar of your heavy jacket chafing against your throat, the crunch of hoarfrost under your boots, the thin beam of your flashlight catching the steam of your breath here and there before glancing over the surface of the water. God, you should have stayed in bed.

open season thirsts [6/?] /// Akaashi x f!Reader (18+)

You just seemed like such a good girl.

It isn’t only the way you dress in class, although that’s part of it. Akaashi doesn’t mind that most of his students show up to lecture looking like they rolled out of bed and pulled on the first university logo hoodie + sweatpants combo they could find, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate the extra effort you put in: button-down shirts, long coats, understated jewelry, and skirts—always accompanied by dark tights to cover your demurely crossed legs. It’s the way you act, too—how you take notes diligently, fingers clicking across the keyboard of your laptop; how you pay close attention to his voice and seem annoyed when one of your friends starts chatting next to you; how you’re the first one to sign up for his office hours every Friday and you always look a bit frustrated when your watch alarm signals that you have to leave for your next class, like you really and truly wish you could keep talking—you’re a good student, and Akaashi just thought that meant you’d be a good girl, too.

He shouldn’t have let his imagination get away from him. It hasn’t been long since he was an undergrad, and he knows what life is like when you’re a young, good-looking student living away from home for the first time, surrounded by all the alcohol and drugs and casual sex one person could possibly want. Akaashi was no saint when he was your age, and he shouldn’t be so surprised when he finds out that you aren’t, either.

But that doesn’t mean he’s not disappointed.

rewatching naruto and the deidara brainrot is real…i see one (1) fanart of this man sticking out all 3 tongues & salivating and im out of commission for days

so i've decided to turn off anon asks for a bit (perhaps indefinitely ?) nothing dramatic i just feel bad with my inbox full of unanswered anons because i like to keep this blog pretty trim ykwim

you can send me anon asks on my sideblog @dream-theory and i'll do my best to respond over there!! otherwise you can always send an ask here and specify that you want me to keep you anonymous (i usually answer asks privately when possible) or message me!! if you're worried about me seeing your blog dw i'm harmless and i'm not going to out you as a freak or whatever lol

Canine /// Sesshomaru x f!Reader (18+)

Quiet.

There’s a smell like burning, but only half of it is smoke. You can imagine it when you close your eyes. Candles, incense, hearth fire consuming everything it touches. But the other half—the other half is sharp and bitter and acidic. It stings down your throat when you inhale.

Quiet.

You can’t move. The dressing assistant added pins to your complex updo: long golden ornaments hung with strings of shining bells. It was beautiful. You’ve always admired the older girls who wear these, the way the angelic ringing announces their footsteps when they walk. It’s an honor to be wearing the same bells. But now you can’t move.

Quiet.

You hold your breath until you can’t anymore, and then let it out slowly. Shallowly. So carefully that it barely stirs the air. You can’t even hear yourself breathing, but maybe…maybe he can hear it anyway.

Or maybe it doesn’t matter.

Maybe he can smell you.

🎉 birthday post 🎉

y’all i turned 22 last saturday…honestly ridiculous i can't believe i'm aging… ……. ….. what happened to forever 21 i ask

anyway if you like my content, please consider supporting me with a tip on ko-fi!