#cursed fic

[yourlocaleldritchbitch]

We’re reading Dipper Goes to Taco Bell… should I be worried

[billowingangel]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

The Germanics celebrate Christmas together, for the first time in a long time. However, the next morning, they discover something...odd

content warnings for suggestive material that includes vomit and just general unsanitary actions.

@schlocktober ~ Thank you for making these prompts! I've been having fun with them!

Divider by @lunardividers

[stateofdilemma]

JD Vance x Jeff Kinney Fanfic

Thank you @jdvancexjeffkinny for the inspiration. Here's the first chapter of my new JD Vance x Jeff Kinney fanfiction. I'll see you all in hell.

Chapter One: Anyone Can Be a Wimpy Kid

If you had asked JD Vance what his afternoon would look like, he never would have guessed it would include Jeff Kinney, the author of the acclaimed series Diary of a Wimpy Kid. JD was the Vice-President of the United States, he had important things to do. But every day between the hours of 12-2, he had his lunch break. 

That day, he just so happened to have been visiting the Washington D.C. Barnes and Noble. He was browsing the children’s section when he saw a sign pointing to an open space where a folding table was set up with stacks of white and red colored books. The sign informed him of an event taking place that day, a meet and greet with Jeff Kinney, one of the most popular children’s authors of all time.

JD couldn’t help but feel excitement bubble up within him. He would never admit this to anyone, but he secretly loved reading about the misadventures of Greg Heffley. He had been reading them since the very first books came out in 2007, even though he was already 23 at the time. He found a certain charm in the pessimistic views of Greg Heffley, and the simplistic writing was easy for him to read, as JD’s Republican stances made him somewhat illiterate. 

He quickly looked around at the near-empty store before following the sign, anticipation building within him. Finally, he arrived at the folding table where he found the author with his head buried in his arms.

“Excuse me?” JD announced his presence, trying not to sound too nervous.

Jeff awoke with a start, jolting upright in his chair. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes a moment before speaking. “Sorry, what can I do you for?

“Are you Jeff Kinney?”

Jeff smiled. “I am. And you are?”

JD wasn’t surprised that Jeff didn’t recognize him. It wasn’t like the Vice-President could just wander around the city in an official looking suit. No, he was in disguise. A gray t-shirt and MAGA hat were just enough to avoid detection from the press or any libtards looking for a fight.

After considering for a second how to respond, JD decided that being honest was the best choice. “I’m James David Vance, but you can call me JD.”

Jeff looked up at him, recognition blooming on his face. “Oh my god. You’re JD Vance.” He bolted onto his feet, knocking his chair over, and held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you sir.”

JD took his hand. His grip was firm, but not aggressive, and his hands were slightly calloused from years of drawing cartoons.

“How can I help you sir?”

JD smiled timidly and reached into the backpack he had with him to pull out his original copy of Diary of a Wimpy Kid. He took it everywhere with him, just in case he was stuck somewhere for long periods of time and had nothing to do. Plus, no matter how many times he read it over and over he never got tired of Greg’s sarcastic comments.

“I was wondering if you could sign this?”

Jeff smiled and took the book, admiring it in his hands. “First edition. Is this your copy?”

JD felt his cheeks grow hot. “My son’s,” he lied.

Jeff smiled warmly and opened to the title page before scribbling something down in sharpie. He closed the book and handed it back.

JD couldn’t stop the wide grin on his face. “Thank you so much!”

Jeff smiled once more, a sight that JD found warmed his cold far-right heart.

“Thank you for coming to see me. Business has been pretty slow today. Kids just aren’t as into reading about the antagonistic actions of a thirteen year old boy anymore.”

“Their loss. As far as I’m convinced Mr. Kinney, your books are a national treasure.”

Jeff laughed, a deep, rich sound. “Please, Mr. Vice-President. Call me Jeff.”

“Jeff.” He repeated. “And you can call me JD.”

“Well, JD, it was nice to meet you, but I’m afraid I have to be packing up soon.”

“Of course,” JD said, taking his eyes off his face for the first time since the encounter started. “Thank you again.”

As JD walked away, he opened the book to see Jeff’s signature, but was pleasantly surprised when he saw a note instead.

“To JD Vance, thanks for being a fan. No matter what age you are, we can all be Wimpy Kids. Signed, Jeff Kinney.” 

A tear ran down his cheek as he turned back to thank Jeff for the kind words, but when he looked back, Jeff was gone.

[lancedoncrimsonwings]

Really nearly done with Chapter 2

Someone give me motivation to finish itttt

[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk x Reader Masterlist Part 2

The Forbidden Apple:

Story Summary: Father Carden begins to notice how his Weeping Monk starts to question all he was raised to believe in. In an effort to distract him, he has his Red Brothers bring him a ‘gift.’ The Monk is skeptical when he hears of this, Father never just gave him gifts. But when the Monk enters his tent in the evening he understood what Father had meant by 'gift’. You, a fey girl, were the gift.

Notes: Please do read the warnings ! I hope I got them all.

Warnings: There’s a list of warnings for this story: Stockholm syndrome (?), lima syndrom (?). Rape threats, sexual assault, murder and violence. Angst. Sexism. Strong Language. Trauma. Childhood trauma. Survivor’s guilt. Mentions of child maltreatment. 

Other warnings: ! Smut ! . Jealousy. Enemies to lovers (?). Romance. Pining. Thigh grinding.

Word count of this fic:  157K

Chapters:  27

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13  Chapter 14  Chapter 15  Chapter 16  Chapter 17  Chapter 18  Chapter 19  Chapter 20  Chapter 21  Chapter 22  Chapter 23  Chapter 24  Chapter 25  Chapter 26  Chapter 27

The Patience Of A Heart:

Story Summary: After fire claimed the lives of your family, the monastery of your Uncle Carden becomes your new home. As the niece of a priest you are expected to behave prim and proper, but not even the watchful eyes of the Weeping Monk can see all. An ancient magic returns to life when love and duty begin to blur.

Warnings: There’s a list of warnings for this story: Murder. Violence. Death. Angst. Sexism. Strong Language. Trauma. Childhood trauma. Survivor’s guilt. Mentions of child maltreatment. Threat of Sexual assault. PTSD. Misogyny, Self-flagellation. Gore.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Pining. Smut. Little Slow-burn. 

Word count of this fic: +138K

Chapters: 27

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13  Chapter 14  Chapter 15  Chapter 16  Chapter 17  Chapter 18  Chapter 19  Chapter 20  Chapter 21  Chapter 22  Chapter 23  Chapter 24  Chapter 25  Chapter 26  Chapter 27

Pray For The Wicked:

Summary: When Father Carden and his Red Paladins arrive at the convent with their wounded brother, Aveline is tasked with serving them something to drink. What she did not expect was that she would catch the attention of the notorious Weeping Monk.

Warnings:  Strong Language. Smut. Dom(?) Lancelot. 

Word count: 4k+

Pray For The Wicked 

The Last Flames Burn Together 1&2:

Summary: You were one of the many Feys trying to seek refugee from the cleansings across the lands. When you finally find the carriages that smuggle Feys to Gramaire, safety seems closer than ever.

Warnings: Violence, death, strong language. Spicy (?). No descriptive smut but spoken off.

Word Count: 7K

The Last Flames Burn Together  + Sequel 

Cloaked Beauty:

Summary: The struggles with your body image begin to affect your happiness. Your two recently acquired companions, Lancelot and Percival, notice the changes.

Notes: Insecure plus size y/n. Fluff. Stuff I wrote when I was feeling down.

Warnings: Possible ED symptoms/signals (?)

Word Count: 3K+

Cloaked Beauty 

More to come...

[ericaisokay]

Rules: Post the last line you wrote and tag someone for every word in the line. Tagged by @mvpanda1 ❣️❣️❣️

“Osc told the FIA he has food poisoning, again. Said he couldn’t dream of making the World Champion witness his tummy troubles on such an important occasion. Honestly, I think he is just pretty mad at you for that mess in turn one… He said Zak should come in his place.”

Taggong: @imlittlebitdie @sincerelylancelot @fueledbyremembering @mvlionheart @ericaisokay @wedriftlikelonelyplanets @formula-fun @bananasomg

[loudlooks]

Day 30 Realizing their feelings

30 day challenge notes: quantity over quality, limited editing, stand-alone/unrelated stories unless specifically stated otherwise, not always tiva, chronologically randomly set in whatever pre-s11 season seems to fit

A/N: Tiva sequel to Ladybugs, it's not smut, but maybe don't read it at work when your boss is standing right next to you...unless you like awkward situation. This was brought to you by @hopeless-nostalgiac comment on that fic, and a migraine which prevented me from coming up with something new today...

Tag for blocking/following: 30 days of spring

Prompt: Realizing their feelings

Word count: somewhere around 1000

-

She was halfway through removing her shirt when there was a knock on the door. For a moment, she paused, staring at the door with enough intensity to hopefully make whoever was on the other side leave. Pulling her shirt down with a heavy sigh, she was at the door in a few strides, and after a longing look in the direction of her bathroom, opened the door.

At the sight of Tony’s  half grin, the heaviness in her body seemed to double. She checked her watch, and cut him off before he could so much as greet her. “I’ve been home for less than ten minutes.” She walked towards a nearby cabinet and grabbed her gun. “I haven’t showered, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” She holstered the gun, turned towards Tony just as her stomach rumbled, and noticed the pizza box he was holding. Some of her frustration and fatigue disappeared at the prospect of food, and she grabbed her backpack off the floor next to the couch. “I suppose I can eat on the way."

Tony frowned. “On the way where?”

“The Navy Yard,” Ziva said reaching for her coat.

“I...” Tony pushed past her into her living room, closing the door behind him, and placed the pizza on the table. “You want to do this at the office?”

Ziva dropped her backpack and coat at the door and walked over to him, the smell of pizza too hard to resist. Through a mouth full of pizza, she asked, “What was the breakthrough?”

Tony’s confusion was overridden by her tongue darting out to lick some grease from her lips. “This morning?”

“What? Do we have to go the office, or arrest someone somewhere?” She took another bite, and looked at him desperately fatigued. “Please don’t tell me it’s another stakeout.”

Tony glanced around, trying to figure out if he had completely misunderstood their breakthrough conversation that morning. A very enticing breakthrough, the thought of which had kept him on his feet during the long and hectic day that had followed. “No, it’s...I’m not here about the case.”

Ziva swallowed the last bite of her slice, and wiped her mouth with a napkin. Feeling decidedly less frustrated, she waited patiently for him to elaborate.

“I thought we, um…” He scratched at the stubble on his cheek. “We agreed to a…a revenge McGee workshop this morning.”

Ziva’s eyes went wide as she remembered their conversation. It had slipped her mind as more disturbing details of the marine’s death had come to light. “I’m sorry, I-“

“Hey, it’s been a long day, it was early, we were still tired from the last case, it’s fine if you changed your mind. ”Trying hard not to let his disappointment, not to mention his breaking heart, show, he shrugged, and added, “We could glue him to his keyboard again, instead.” He tapped his right temple. “Can’t write about us if he can’t type.”

Ziva stepped in closer until they were almost touching. “That is not very original.” She plucked at non-existent lint on his coat. “There’s something on your coat, you should take it off.”

Tony stared down awkwardly at his coat, then shrugged out of it quickly, remembering the ladybugs that had hitchhiked on his jacket into the car that morning.

At the sight of his shoulder holster, Ziva bit her bottom lip. “You are not playing fair.”

Tony puffed out his chest, and stared at her with hooded eyes. “Just trying to play to my strengths.”

“Hmm,” Ziva said thoughtfully, staring at her hands as she ran them over his chest and shoulders, linking them behind his neck. Standing on tiptoes, she grazed his lips with hers. “It’s working,” she said huskily, and pulled his head down to kiss him, draw him in, taste him.

His left arm snaked around her waist, holding her loosely, and he grinned against her lips. “You taste like pizza.”

“You taste like whisky.” She pulled back enough to judge his sobriety, not that he seemed drunk when she opened the door.

“One drink, before I left.” He shrugged, then pecked her lips. “Guess I needed a bit of liquid courage.”

His fingers moved against the base of her skull and he kissed her again, slowly, lazily, which poked the flicker inside her into an erratic flame. She gently tugged at his hair, urging him closer, but all he did was slow down even more and smile against her lips.

“McGee is gonna hate this,” he murmured.

“What?” Her brows knit, but before her mind could think of anything other than his hands now clutching her firmly to him, his lips had moved on to her neck, fanning the erratic flame into a roaring fire.

His hand slipped from her lower back to her ass, and as he pulled her to him roughly, she let out a whimper.

Her pulse stumbled over itself, there was no reason for him to have this effect on her. Not this fast. She pushed herself against him, not caring of how needy it made her look. Strong, nimble fingers slipped under her shirt, sending shivers up and down her spine as they inched closer and closer to her bra strap.

He kissed a feather light trail from her jaw line to her mouth, leaving every nerve ending his lips had touched tingling and begging for more. Claiming her mouth as his so boldly there was no doubt in her mind that this was how it should be, how it always should have been.

As his left hand moved lower again, barely slipping underneath the waistband of her pants, the fingers of his other hand trailed lightly up and down her neck, making her knees go weak. The barest whimper escaped her mouth, right into his, and he drew back just enough to stare at her, willing her to open her eyes.

And when she did, all she saw there was years of pent up lust, desire…love. Her breath hitched, and she bit her bottom lip, trying to regain some semblance of control, but all it did was remind her of his taste, how he had sucked on her lip, how his scent seemed to permeate her consciousness.

“You know…” he rasped, and cleared his throat, blinking rapidly.

She kissed the corner of his mouth, inhaled deeply and nuzzled his cheek, the stubble eliciting new cravings she tried to ignore.

“If we do this,” he breathed heavily, fingers tickling along the nape of her neck. “On Gibbs’ desk, McGee will have a heart attack.”

“Tony,” she sighed in his ear, as his lips left another trail down her cheek, her jaw, her neck.

He hummed against her tender skin.

“Why do you keep bringing up McGee?” Her eyelids fluttered as he nipped, then licked, then pulled back without a warning.

There was no more than a few inches between them, but in that moment it may as well have been the Grand Canyon. She looked at him questioningly, trying to gather her thoughts, trying not to miss his lips against her skin.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said in a low voice, locking eyes with her. “We’re not...doing this to annoy McGee, right?”

“Yes, I mean, no, I…” She closed her eyes and tried to tamp down the building frustration. “I do not care about McGee…” She shook her head. “I do not want to think about…” Her gaze drifted to his mouth, every nerve ending in her body craving to be touched by those soft, skillful lips. “I want to think about you…” She blinked slowly, then forced her gaze to meet his. “I don’t want to think,” she husked, getting lost in the depth of love in his eyes. “I just want you.”

His face relaxed as soon as her words registered, and he seemed to fold around her, cocooning her, his forehead resting against hers. He swallowed hard, then breathed out her name. “I want you, too.”

[strqyr]

my brain is being filled up with new ideas for my strq fic and once again i'm redoing stuff >:( boo >:(