For your requests, can you please use this atmospheric one for Clyde? Thank you!
🌵A winding road through the desert with only one dingy hotel, its ‘vacancy’ light flickering red
Hello! Thank you so much for this wonderful prompt! I’m very very much in a horror mood and this one just truly hit right, so I hope you enjoy this little story with our Clyde Bear!
Also, very very much inspired by the movie Vacancy.
Vacancy
Clyde Logan x GN!Reader
Masterlist
Warnings: Horror elements but nothing graphic, suspense
Wordcount: 519
The asphalt below radiated so much heat, even this late at night. You’d been driving for what felt like days though the desert. A meticulously planned road trip only slightly thrown off by a flat tire.
Clyde sighed and huffed as he changed the tire, both of you working in tandem to get back on the road as soon as possible. Now sleep was calling and you weren’t to your next destination, but like an oasis, flickering red lights ahead shone on a small motel in the middle of nowhere.
Pulling off the road, you both hopped out into the dirt. The heat of the day seeping through the soles of your shoes. “Clyde, baby-” Your voice a sleepy whine.
Holding out his hand, you wrapped your fingers with his before walking through the almost empty parking lot to the front desk.
The string of bells tied to the door announced your presence, summoning a mousey looking man. His frame made more slight by the massive body of the man beside you. His eyes flicked up and down, taking you both in before his lips pulled into a smile, forced and a bit sterile, perhaps rehearsed.
“Welcome, folks!”
His voice too chipper for the hour, raising the hairs on your neck as Clyde stiffened beside you. “Yeah, we’d like a room for the night. Please.” His voice deep and rumbled, exhausted from the day's drive.
“Of course! What brings you two to these parts?”
“Jus’ passin’ through.”
“Well, we’re glad you stopped by. Looks like I have the honeymoon suite for ya.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he handed Clyde the keys, telling him he could fill out the paperwork in the morning. “You two look dead tired.”
“T-thanks.” Pulling you close to his side, Clyde found himself wide awake. Something seemed off and if there was anything Clyde would never question it was his gut.
Shuffling you both out of office, he picked up his pace, dragging you by his side. “Clyde?”
“Jus’ keep walkin’, we’re gettin’ out of here.” His dark eyes darted around the parking lot, spotting the outline of a man receding into the dark shadow cast by the building, and another in the utility truck parked across the lot. The figure’s eyes flashing slightly as you moved through the lot.
Quickly looking back, you caught the attendant craning his neck, speaking into a phone and watching you both all but sprint to your car.
In one swift motion, Clyde wrenched open the car door, threw you into the cabin and climbed in. Tires screeching, he reversed before shifting the car into drive and speeding out of the parking lot.
The men watched the tail lights of your car grow smaller, swallowed by the darkness as they huffed, “We’ll get the next ones, just make sure they can’t fix that fuckin’ tire.”
Heart racing, Clyde gripped the wheel tightly until the red lights of the motel faded into the darkness, past the dozens of abandoned cars, tired popped and cloaked in darkness. He didn’t let up off the gas or stop until dawn crept into the sky.
Hello Thia - may I request from the Fic/Trope mashup list: #6 Bookshop AU and #53 Mutual Pining with Clyde please. Thanks so much 💛
Hello!!! Thank you so so much for your lovely request. I’m such a sucker for both of these tropes/AUs, so this was fun. I hope you enjoy!
Without Looking
Clyde Logan x GN!Reader
Warnings: Fluff and sweetness
Wordcount: 856
It was his third visit this week. Shop open was his time to really peruse the boxes filled with documents, collected from Boone County and its neighbors. Newspaper clippings paper clipped to photographs and negatives. Microfiche and discarded family albums.
When the 6ft 4in lumbering bear of a man walked through your door, pointing to the window adorned with the words “Local History,” your interest was as piqued as his. You listened to him drawl out his request, shoulders squared, even if his head tilted down, angular features hidden behind a curtain of raven hair.
He pulled a folded list from his fitted jeans, running asking if you had any of the books he sought, trying to trace his family lineage. You specialized in collecting local books of all sorts, visiting estate and yard sales. Working to catalogue and provide bits of rural paraphernalia for any tourist who stopped in town, scrapbookers, and craft enthusiasts as well as providing a second or tenth chance to used, discontinued, and out of print brooks. All leading back to this corner of West Virginia.
Now you found yourself enamored by your regular customer, Clyde Logan. No longer hiding behind his hair as he sat with you behind the counter. A box of clippings between you and fresh coffee in reusable mugs, one adorned with a horseshoe especially for him.
“This type’a thing don’t happen to normal folks,” he grumbled between sips, balancing a thin stack of clippings, yellowed around the corners in his stiff pink plastic hand. They were close to what he was looking for, something about the lottery in the late 80s. Another piece to the “Logan Curse,” as he had seemed fit to call it.
“MMMM!” You exclaimed into your coffee, eyes wide in excitement at the article you had in front of you. The surname Logan appeared with the picture of a slight woman, raven hair matching Clyde’s as well as nose. She was grinning ear to ear, holding a comically large check against her small frame. Under her picture, an article of misfortune that befell her shortly after cashing out her winnings.
For a man his size, he moved quickly. Appearing at your side, warm shoulder pressing into yours as he dipped his head close to your hand holding the article in question. “Well I’ll be…” The whiskey and sandalwood scent of his skin fogging your head, as you flexed your fingers, holding yourself back from raking your fingers through his hair. If the find happened early enough in the morning, the smell of conditioner would waft out from his damp mane, filling the air around you. Your heart rate picking up a bit, thighs pressing together discreetly.
His search to document and prove the Logan curse had become much easier with you and your shop. If he wasn’t manning the bar at the Duck Tape Bar and Grill, he could be found in your bookshop. Sipping coffee or eating a burnt bacon sandwich with you by his side, calling you his lucky charm when another piece fell into your hands. A violent blush crawling up his neck and reaching his ears the first time the words escaped his lips.
“Am I?”
“I suppose so.”
He also found himself making excuses to visit, having exhausted your resources until your next score. Stopping by to simply chat with your favorite pastries in tow or being so bold as to ask you to visit him at the bar, where he bristled whenever he caught another patron flirting with you only to preen at your rebuff of their advances, turning to him with a smile on your face eager to pick up the conversation.
“So, I got a lead on some early 1900s photo albums and newspapers in Danville and Madison,” you twisted the napkin under your drink, damp from condensation. “I’m picking them both up late Sunday morning...” He stopped mid pour, watching you with an arched brow and a small smile gracing the corners of his lips.
“Sunday?”
“Yeah, I was thinkin’ if you weren’t busy you’d like to come with me?” Ducking your head, your lips connected with the short straw in your drink and pulled a hurried sip.
“Oh, I-”
“Like a date?” Jimmy’s voice cut the air between you, the Cheshire cat grin greeting you both as your heads snapped in his direction, having burst the bubble you seemed to create around yourselves, shutting out the rest of the world.
“Oh! I meant like-”
“Yes. I’d like that- t’join you on Sunday.” The words rushed out of him, the prospect of spending more time with you too much to give up. The familiar flush creeping over his collar as you felt a twin heat rise to your own.
“Great! Great. A-a date then.”
“A date.” The grin that graced the edges of his lips, fully taking over and crinkling the crooks of his eyes. The same goofy look mirrored on your own face.
“Finally! It’s ‘bout time. Right, Earl?”
“Mmmhmmm.”
The men clinked glasses, pulling swigs from their complimentary beers before letting you and Clyde return to your bubble built for two.
If I haven’t missed your requests being open I’d love to submit one from the Eerie Atmospheric settings.
🌕A full moon night with wind whistling through the trees and/or Late Halloween night after the trick or treating is over. With Clyde or Flip, your choice!
Please and thank you, Thia 💛
Hello hello! Thank you so so much for this wonderful prompt! I ended up writing something for Flip that went in a totally different direction than I expected and I do hope you enjoy it.
Restless
Flip Zimmerman x Fae!F!Reader
Warnings: Some illusions to unsavory people
Wordcount: 1K
Prompt: 🌕A full moon night with wind whistling through the trees
He stood swaying, practically naked in the moonlight. The clouds parting and scattering in the wind to reveal the full moon. Skin shining like alabaster in the pale light that wound it’s away over the corded muscles of his arms and neck, the broad expanse of his chest and the softness of his belly, mapped with moles and fine black hair.
The wind whistled around him, not cold but rather warm for this time of year and time of night. The witching hour, where everything that was hidden came to light as if it were the middle of the day.
The forest around him rustled and creaked, calling him to the clearing dancing in the breeze. Stepping forward, he almost felt the grass caress his skin, flower buds kiss his shins leaving a dewy mark in their wake. Almost but not quite.
He’d heard of trolls and bigfoot inhabiting these parts, but he wasn’t scared of them. He didn’t believe in them, not even the tommyknockers. Either way, they weren’t the real monsters of the world. He had seen the real ones, walked among them wearing their skin to do his job.
Feet carrying him, he walked past the clearing until he no longer felt smooth stone under his feet, toes no longer able to grip the earth. Where would this lead him? How did he end up here?
“Whoa there.”
Your fingers wrapped around his arm, stopping him from going too far, he didn’t look like he had any gold on him to continue. Taking too many steps in the moonlight. The full moon, when sleep and wake became the same to some. When things buried deep came out to play, sometimes buried in a person or in a dark forest. When things were restless.
His eyes glittered gold when they fell on yours, illuminated not by the moonlight but by the unknown that coursed through your veins. He seemed to struggle to want to wake, but you shook your head.
“It’s best if you don’t fight it.”
“Fight what?”
“This” you gestured around, nothing specific just everything, right here and right now. Relaxing under your fingers, his posture slackened as he took you in. Eyes flitting over your form, covered with something he couldn't name, showing patches of skin that seemed to shimmer on it’s own. Following the curve of your spine, he squinted at the iridescent appendages that twitched under his scrutinizing eyes.
“Please stop staring.” You felt an unfamiliar warmth creep up your neck, covering your face at being examined so closely. He reached out to pull at your dress, which seemed to have a life of it’s own, only to pull a piece of squishy material. Moss?
“Are you… one of them?”
“Them?”
Just then a beast walked by, nodding as it continued on it’s way, shaking the ground under its massive steps. Kind eyes showing under a mass of hair as it made its way through the night’s air.
“You think I look like him?” You didn’t know if you should be offended or flattered at being regarded of as highly as a sas-
“You know what I mean.”
“To you, on this night, out here, yes.”
He studied you again before following you back into the meadow somehow the grass now taller, tickling his chest or he shorter. “You don’t have a lot of time here. The sun will awake and so will you.”
“Will I remember this?”
“Only if you want to, but always when you need to.”
He liked your answers. Somehow noncommittal but reassuring, as if you knew exactly what he did and did not want to hear but weren’t afraid to say it. He watched you again, pulled in by your beauty and frankness.
“Do I make you nervous?”
“A little.”
“Sorry.”
“I’m not.” You words laced with mischief and sincerity. Somehow reassuring.
He took a chance, “Will it always feel like this?”
“Heavy? I don’t think so.” He looked tired, his shoulders carried a weight and burden you couldn’t quite see but knew was there.
He hummed, satisfied even if you didn’t continue and provide more words of assurance.
“Can I kiss you?”
You looked at his inky hair, tinged blue by the moon, down to his amber eyes, and plush lips. He swiped his tongue over them quickly, as if regretting his bluntness. “Why?”
“I’ve always wanted to kiss a fairy.” His features turned almost childlike. Having remembered hearing and reading about fairies as a child, how they inhabited forests and were demoted angels. Angels on earth.
“Sure.”
Shuffling closer, he lowered his lips to yours pressing lightly as if afraid to scare you, his mustache lightly scratching your soft skin. The smell of earth and raspberries filled his nose as he shut his eyes tight. Pulling away, he licked his lips again. This time they tasted of you.
“You can do that again, if you want.”
Before he could question you, he brought them down again with more confidence. He sucked and nipped at your lips, deepening the kiss with a hum as your fingers threaded through his hair only stopping to come up for air. “Is this real?” His breath fanned across your lips, mingling with yours.
“Only if you remember.”
Pulling him down, you sat on the wet earth, looking up to the moon high in the sky. Laying down you pulled him over you, setting his head on your chest. Hand cupping your sides, he listened to your heart beat, letting you lull him back to sleep. You hummed a tune beneath him, raking your fingers through his hair only to stop when the sun began to wake for the day.
“Flip!!”
Jimmy’s voice carried through the trees, rousing him from sleep. He sat up, dirt and leaves caked to his face as he turned in the voice’s direction. “Over here.”
He was alone and practically naked, the coldness now creeping in as he mourned the loss of your warmth.
My darling! ❤️ I'm so happy to see you are taking request and I was wondering if this might tickle your fancy a little: Will Miller + 78. You Found Out My Secret? Maybe angst with a happy ending, or completely fluffy, it's up to you :) Thank you for considering this!
My lady love! Thank you for this prompt! I totally went angsty and then SAPPY?!?! Who am I? But really it totally called for it.
I hope you enjoy this little bit of us with our darling Will Miller. 💕
Truths
Will Miller x GN!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of violence and PTSD, Angst, Soft/Fluff (??), Happy Ending
Wordcount: 710
Request Materlist - Main Masterlist
“About five years ago, when I was on leave... I found myself standing in the middle of the cereal aisle at the Publix... with my arm around some guy's throat. I was squeezing so hard he pissed himself.”
Blue eyes cut to yours, as if you were the only person in the room, a room full of soldiers. People who looked to continue their careers in the military. The only distinction between you and them was the little badge you wore giving you administration access. You would help with paperwork and questions of the like. But you weren’t one of them, not like he was.
His words are usually so smooth and calculated, now leaving him stuttered or forgotten. Broken and distant as he struggled to finish the rehearsed monologue, the words he had carefully crafted and repeated dozens, perhaps hundreds of times.
At the moment he couldn’t recall the exact count.
“My fiancé” your brows shot up in surprise. “A-at the time had to climb on my back just so I didn't actually kill the guy.” He finally yanked his eyes away from yours, looking around the room to the ones who were there to see him, hear from someone who had been through what they were going through. “Do you know why I was doing this? Because he hadn't moved his cart when I asked.”
He stood tall again, counting to three before continuing. Orbs flitting in your direction once more, before a more controlled and purposeful sweep of the room. Letting his audience know he saw them and understood them. Would you understand this part of him? You knew something, but not like this. Not this much.
“I was the best of the best, able to shut down, control, manipulate; all basic human instincts towards one goal: The completion of my mission. But the effects of committing extreme violence on other human beings are biological and physiological.”
All heads in the rooms sparsely sat from each other, faced his direction and listened intently. Yours included. You understood even if you hadn’t heard his speech. You had heard others before him, words that spoke of the internal conflict they experienced. How being amongst civilians was not something anyone was ever fully prepared for.
But now you heard his, heard the words of what kept him up at night. Of why he held himself back from you. He needed to give you the chance to understand, this was that moment.
“That's the price of being a warrior.”
**
You made sure each pair of hands held a pamphlet on their way out. Handing them over with a bright smile and your own rehearsed words. The hairs on the back of your neck prickling when you felt his eyes land on you, watching you over heads for any signs. Any change in you towards him.
The last chairs emptied, scraping and echoing until it was just the two of you, standing in the aisle. Chewing your lip, you searched for the words you knew he needed to hear. You wanted him to hear but he cut to it first.
“You Found Out My Secret. This isn’t how I wanted to tell you.” He couldn’t help himself, bringing his hand up to cup your face. Thumb pulling your lips free as he stepped closer. Needing reassurance he hadn’t lost you.
You raked your fingers over his shirt, skin snagging slightly over the fitted deep blue polo that pressed lightly over his belly. Muscles taught over the knots that tangled in his stomach, waiting for you to run as far away from him as possible.
“I know.” You offered a smile against his thumb, stepping closer to him. Your eyes held nothing but love for the man before you, for him. Without words you let him know that you understood that there were things you would never understand, that times could be rough, but that you would be there with him through it.
That you would be there for him, if he wanted you.
Pressing his lips to your skin, he closed his eyes. Breathing you in as he nosed your hairline, kissing your forehead. His heart beat a little easier and a little fuller, now ready to let you in and let you love him for who he was.
I’m happy you reblogged you request post again because I just saw it! Can you do something with a magical accident with Clyde and you please?
Thank you!
Hello there! Thank you so so much for this great request! I hit a wall with trying to make this unique enough, I hope this hit the right notes for you and you enjoy it! Thanks for taking the time to send something in.
Updating to add, check out @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather Magical AU list. She has some really amazing stories happening, one that I know of with Clyde. ✨💗✨
Clarity
Clyde Logan x GN!Reader
Warnings: Illusions to PTSD, Fluff, Mischief
Wordcount: 1.6K
Notes: Thank you to @hopeamarsu for shooting ideas at me!
Requests Masterlist
“Oh shoot!”
Your elbow knocked the tiny vial just so, clinking against its neighbor as you reached to move Veritas. Your grumpy Chartreux mix cat lumbered through the simmering pots and vials filled with ingredients, knowing he was where he wasn’t allowed.
“You know better than this, mister,” picking up the potato shaped ball of fur, a cantankerous trill leaving his lips as you politely dropped him on the floor. He padded off to his perch to watch you finish your work, watching you with his topaz colored eyes, legs tucked under his chubby body.
Carefully checking for any spills, you felt confident your potions were safe, ready for their stoppers before heading off to their respective owners. Wrapping them carefully, you headed to the Duck Tape Bar and Grill.
***
Fish Bang leaned over the bar, eyeing Clyde as he stood broad and unwavering, watching the cars run lap after lap as he absentmindedly dried the glass in his hands. Any signs of water long gone as he ignored the slack jawed man who was talking who knows what.
“Jus’ think about it, Clyde. What if you could jus’ see in t’their thoughts. Antici-Ant-Anticipatory.”
Humming he turned to the long haired man, scraggly strands tucked behind his ears. A satisfied look plastered on his face as if he had somehow convinced Clyde this was a good idea, whatever the idea was. “Y’gonna order somethin’ or are y’here for the conversation?”
“Jus’ waitin for-”
Both heads swiveling towards you, walking through the door and stepping up to the bar. “Gentleman.” Your eyes darted between them, wondering what you had interrupted.
“Them. Waitin’ for them.”
“The usual?”
“Yes please. Thank you, Clyde.”
You smiled at him with a smile that could melt his heart but then the smile turned towards Fish, nowhere near as brilliant as the man sidled up to you, an expectant look in his weasely eyes. Your smile quickly dropped as you excused yourself, grabbing him by the elbow out of earshot.
Clyde watched out of the corner of his eyes as you both pressed together, speaking in hushed tones the words “sunrise to sunrise” and “only this once” leaving your lips as Fish watched intently, the slack jawed look returning to his face as if he had reached maximum information capacity. “Hey!” snapping your fingers in front of his eyes, you waited for him to answer before turning back to the bar.
The night passed like most of your nights there, chatting with Clyde for a bit before moving to the porch to chat with Earl, trading secrets and techniques. “Been trying to get rid of doxies, tired of the jinxin’ ‘em. They come back too soon.”
The bar lights dimmed over your laughs, Clyde having closed up, keys rattling in the door before he joined you in waving goodnight to Earl. Silent watching the tail lights disappear into the night.
“You really want this?”
He hummed at your side, “Y’say the same thing every year.” He was ready for the potions to alleviate his sleepless nights and ease his anxious mind. It was the anniversary of his accident, the one that changed his life and was imprinted on his soul. He just needed the next few days to pass with an eased mind and heart. You could offer him that, you hoped one day it would be more with your companionship and support as more than a friend, but for now you offered him the same and two potions.
“And I’ll keep saying them,” you teased before turning, pulling out a padded silk bag containing two glass vials. Lifting one out you rolled it in your palm, the light reflecting off the contours of the beaker. “Draught of Peace, take a sip every few hours as needed. It’ll ease the anxiety, calm your mind.”
He hummed again in understanding.
Plunking it back in the bag, you reached for the next, turning it similarly in your fingers. “Dreamless Sleep. Take the whole bottle before bed, you’ll have a dreamless sleep for the next few nights. Restful and calm, you’ll sleep soundly, wake up refreshed.”
“Thank you.” He held out his hand, fingers grazing yours as he took the bag from you, sending a warmth up his arm. Brows knitted together, your fingers chased his, settling on his forearm with a gentle squeeze.
“Coffee and pie?”
Nodding, you walked to the diner across the street for your customary coffee and pie, another distraction and habit to wind down from an evening at the bar, knowing he had a few stories to share in the dimly lit vinyl booth.
*
He held the two bottles in his hands, quickly gulping the Sleepless Dream potion he settled into bed, letting the night wash over him.
*
“How’d y’sleep, baby brother?” Jimmy bustled around the small kitchen burning bacon just like Clyde liked, scoping scrambled eggs into a bowl.
Unlike most of the year, Clyde didn’t lumber through the small space. Instead gliding through refreshed and aware. Sniffing at the bacon before pouring a large glass of juice and settling down to eat before the intrusive thoughts creeped in. He poured a bit of Draught of Peace onto his tongue, eye twitching as soon as it hit his tongue.
What’s that look for?
“Huh?”
Jimmy looked over the rim of his coffee cup, brows shooting up in question. “Pardon?”
“What’cha say?”
“Huh? What?”
Eying his brother, he shook his head before diving into the heaping plate before him.
**
The rest of his day kept on the same, mishearing people and asking them to repeat themselves only to receive a questioning look. At the bar he found himself pouring drinks and handing them to confused patrons. Eyeing him suspiciously before throwing a few bills down and sitting far away from him.
“Earl, can I ask ya somethin’?”
“‘Course?”
His friend set his beer down, peering up at Clyde, seeing the worry in his face. Steeling himself he took a sip of the Draught of Peace, clicking his tongue before stuffing the vial in his pocket.
Must be worried ‘bout somethin’. Maybe it’s not strong enough.
“No, the strength is fine. I can always drink more if I need it.” Clyde insisted you were the best at potions in all of Boone County and he wouldn’t trust anyone else to brew them up for him. While he gabbed away about you, Earl’s eyes grew wide with curiosity.
“Clyde, I didn’t say anything.”
“What’ya mean?”
“I mean I didn’t say a word.”
“No, I heard ya loud and clear.”
Pulling a swig from his beer, Earl watched him with confusion and concern.
Didn’t say a word.
“I heard y’clear as day.”
Clyde all but slammed his fist on the bar top. Holding his hands up in surrender, Earl looked up at him and suggested he pay you a visit when you walked through the door. Your voice filled his ears, humming about how the bar smelled. As you grew closer you caught the scent of him, smiling as you approached.
Jeans look so good.
“Hi guys!”
Must’a brewed that-
“I’m telling ya, they made everything jus’ fine!” Clyde’s voice boomed through the bar.
Then you must be a Legilimens then.
“No, I ain’t no Legilimens.”
“Clyde? Are you talking to Earl?”
Earl held up his hands, as if his point was made before getting up and patting Clyde’s pocket. “Might want to double check your potions.”
“What’s that mean?” you asked concerned you had brewed your potions incorrectly, you looked up at Clyde who heard the string of worry lacing through you. Your lips unmoving.
“Earl, will ya look after the bar f’me?”
Yup
“Stop doing that! And thank you.” Turning to you, he guided you out of the bar, into the parking lot.
“Clyde, what’s happening?”
The parking lot was quieter than the bar, only your voice, both of them reaching his ears before he cut you off asking you to think of something but not say it out loud. “Something outlandish.”
“Outlandish?”
“Shhhh, not out here. Inside voice.”
Nodding you thought of the one thing you knew he’d never do, never know as you looked him directly in the eyes. Kiss me
Silence followed as he searched your face, “y’sure?”
Yes, only if you want to. Kiss me.
Before you knew it, his head dipped to yours, lips meeting before he pressed them against you. Gently sucking at your lips, before pulling apart. Standing stunned, your hands hung by your side as your eyes fluttered open.
“Ohhhh noooo,” you moaned lowly at him, your breath hitting his chin as his face remained close to yours.
“That bad?”
“Huh? No! No! T-That was great. I-I, Veritas knocked into my potions and the mind reading po- wait, you wanted to kiss me?”
“Mmmmhmmm,” wrapping his arms against your waist, he pulled you closer. His plush lips pecking at yours again. “What did that old cat do?” He asked between kisses.
“Knocked my potions.” You responded. “Must have knocked some Mind Reading potion into your vial.” More kisses followed, deeper and longer. “Made some for Fish, lasts 24 hours. Yours is probably less.”
“Mmm,” a small moan slipped his lips as your fingers carded through his hair, playing with the strands on his neck. “Remind me to give that meddling grump some extra treats.”
Giggling into his lips, he held you close in the parking lot like he’d always hoped.
I’m taking requests for little ficlets/drabbles/whatever the terms are! I fully understand I have a few WIP but I figured I could sprinkle this in occasionally. They’ll take me a while to get done, but if you’re interested my asks are open. 😅
Masterlist
Adam Driver Characters
Clyde Logan
Kly’d (Mando!Clyde)
Flip Zimmerman
Paterson
Pedro Pascal Characters
Din Djarin
Pero Tovar
Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales
Misc
Omera (The Mandalorian)
Will ‘Ironhead’ Miller (Triple Frontier)
Hamish ‘Merlin’ Mycroft (Kingsman)
Things I love: Baker/Bakery AU, Soulmates, A/B/O, Mandalorians, tropes tropes tropes, sci-fi, lil horror, dreams, Angst, Fluff
Prompts (if you like)
send in a picture - unsplash, pexels (no people if possible)
Fic/Trope Mash-up
AU List
Soulmates Alphabet
Horror/SciFi AUs
Eerie Atmospheric Settings
More AU Ideas
100 Trope Prompts
Things I will not write: Underage, Daddy Kink, Pregnancy, Kidfics, DD/LG, Degradation, BDSM, Non-Con
If you’re out here requesting, I assume you’ve read what I write and understand what I’m about. I’m not a terribly smut heavy writer, so I apologize but will make things a little lil sexy. I reserve the right to decline for whatever reason.
I’ll close these off when I reach a comfortable limit.
