Happy Birthday Commanding Agent!

i was tagged by beloved @turtleybeachin & @ohmypawsandwhiskers and bc i've been very enthusiastic abt my writing lately i wanted to share something else, too! this is also from my accidental werewolf baby acquisition fic! i'm trying to go for a super light-hearted vibe with it, which is a nice change from zombie au!! not tagging anyone this time around bc it's thursday, but if you see this and want to share something do it!!

"Should we let her go outside for walks?" Farah asks, chewing on her lip. Pink lipgloss sticks to her pearly white teeth.

"Unsupervised?" Adam asks with a raise of his brow.

"Well, no," Farah says quickly, "with one of us preferably. She should get some fresh air too sometimes, right? I mean, she's a werewolf. They have a habit of going a little stir crazy. She needs her exercise."

"She is in grave danger," he answers seriously with a shake of his head. "Her parents were k–"

Nate clears his throat very loudly while Farah covers Bette's ears with her hands and hushes Adam furiously. Bette just starts staring at him again, blinking her almost too large eyes a few times.

"Apologies, Bette," Adam says to the small werewolf toddler, mollified. "Your parents are…" He pauses, uncertain, and looks at Nate for help, but the latter doesn't appear to know quite what to say, either.

"On a long extremely happy vacation in… Italy!" Farah says, almost cheerful.

"Two guardian angels watching over you," says Kitty – ever so gentle.

i'm sharing two things to day bc i'm very excited by two fics i'm currently writing: my zombie au and my accidental werewolf baby acquisition fic! they're (obvs) very different from each other, but both fun, i feel like!

tagging: @serenpedac, @agentnatesewell, @lalizah, @l-llavellans, @carriehobbs, @nreads, @wayhavenots, @thee-morrigan and whoever else feels like sharing something!!

this first one is from ch3 of zombie au. sharing a bed trope, woo!

Wayhaven never got this freezing cold in the past winters before. The weather was mild. There was usually snow, but it was never more than a few minus degrees during the day, more during the nights of course, but the cold never creeped like a thief into her and Nate's house like this.

Adam's dedication of chopping firewood during the last two seasons pays off and they are able to keep the fireplace going for hours at a time.

Charlie's room upstairs is cold, though, and she keeps shivering almost feverishly under the bed covers despite wearing a wool sweater over a t-shirt and Nate's old joggers.

Eventually she gives up on trying to fall asleep and gets up, tiptoeing across the room and down the stairs to the living room where the fireplace is unlit, but still hot. Adam is sleeping deeply on the couch, the covers only reaching his waist. He isn't even wearing a shirt and for a moment Charlie can't stop staring at his chest and soft belly covered in light hair, his large hand laying against his stomach, moving in the rhythymn of his steady breaths.

"Asshole," she mutters under her breath, turning back towards the fireplace and rubbing her hands together.

It doesn't take him long to wake up despite Charlie trying not to wake him.

"Charlotte?" he eventually murmurs sleepily from the couch.

"It's just me," Charlie says as he starts shifting anxiously on the mattress when she doesn't immediately answer him.

"What are you doing here?" he rasps, confused, and lifts himself halfway up with his forearms to see her properly. "Is there a danger?"

"No. I was just cold."

i'll put the accidental werewolf baby acquisition fic under the cut to avoid this post getting super long! :) this is also a multichaptered fic bc it decided to grow a plot, rip.

Thank you so much for tagging me @thee-morrigan and @carriehobbs 💛

Winter Chapters my beloved, I'm afraid that Adam's going through it :^)

As nausea tugged at his stomach, Adam felt his usual jealousy twist and warp into something which he no longer recognized. It clawed at him just as he now clawed at the shower walls, pleading to be unleashed upon the man he loathed the most. He felt venom at the tip of his tongue, he felt such intense and vile thoughts begin to cloud his judgment, he felt nothing but malice towards the one he used to call his "best friend". How he hated it: the way he gloated, the way he smugly smiled in his direction while pulling Yves closer to himself, the way he discussed their wedding plans, the way he lied through his teeth while confessing his infatuation, the way he treated him like a trophy to be displayed and never touched. What did he know of devotion? What did he know of worship? Nothing. He knew nothing. Sewell didn't deserve him. Sewell wasn't worthy of him. Adam on the other hand, oh, Adam could worship the ground Yves walked on, he could adore him, he could sit at his knees and be at his every whim and command, he could do it all with a smile on his face and bloodied hands.

I am so far behind on Snippet Sundays/WIP Wednesdays (I'm sorry everyone who tagged me - I appreciated the tags so much, but I'm so far behind now that I can't remember who tagged me for what or when) that I decided to just tie in this week's Snippet Sunday with the results of the WIP Poll Game and do an Excerpt Extravaganza (for the alliteration, lol). I'm tagging @fauville, @agentnatesewell, @wayhavenots, @thee-morrigan, @mornynge, @anticupid16, @serenpedac, and @lalizah to either play along with my nonsense or just do a regular Snippet Sunday.

For the Excerpt Extravaganza, I'm going to write (and then share, which is the Extravaganza part) a sentence (or lines, if you prefer to do lines) for every vote received by each of the fics in my WIP Poll Game, instead of just the fic that won the poll.

rebecca: they're nat's

lucy's horny meter: +1

rebecca: well, some of them are ava's

can't sleep, do snippet sunday at 5am. 🙂‍↕️ this is from ch3 of my zombie apocalypse AU, which is the winter chapter, and it's definitely my fave! i finished it yesterday and it's literally almost 8k long, bc i had a lot of events to tell, lol.

tagging (no pressure): @agentnatesewell, @carriehobbs, @turtleybeachin, @thee-morrigan, @hanna-writess, @l-llavellans, @wayhavenots and YOU

i'm putting this under the cut, bc of the of the depictions of violence and horror elements (also angst psychic damage, sorry). it's nothing too bad (no blood for example, but this is a zombie apocalypse fic)! but if you're sensitive, pls be safe!

Hello sweet friend 💕 thank you for asking!

24. what happens after you? by @thee-morrigan

Thank you so much for tagging me @turtleybeachin 💛

Well, it's still Wednesday somewhere, so I might as well share the wip about Captain Sung trying his best :^)

With a sigh, he closes the door. Just my luck. "How did you get here anyway?" As he leans against the wall, Sung crosses his arms, looking down at Yves fighting a one sided battle with his shoelaces. "Bus." "Bus? That's it?" "Yeah?" He tries not to let his irritation show, although he must be doing a very bad job of it, considering Yves's expression changing almost instantly, as if trying to disarm him. "I mean, I had money—" "I understand that part, there's no need to explain." Suddenly Sung feels uncomfortable in his own skin, wishing he could be anywhere else. Nevertheless, the standard protocol applies, even if it's his best friend's son, even if this is not a crime scene. "And your mother?" "What about my mother?" Yves throws his shoes to the side and, no matter how excruciatingly painful it is for him, Sung tries to ignore the melted snow leaving a stain on his freshly washed carpet. "Does she know that you're here?" "I don't know? Maybe? I told her I was leaving but she never replied to me." He gets up from the floor, nervously glancing at the clock above the entrance door. "So where's your TV? Can I go now? It starts in fifteen minutes."

Nate was used to his 'eccentricities' being solitary pursuits. Neither Adam nor Mason had any interest in culinary endeavors, though they'd humored him throughout their many years together by sometimes sampling his dishes and making their best efforts not to pull faces about it. Felix loved to sample his projects these days, but would make himself scarce for cleanup and rarely did more than sample ingredients during the prep phase.

But that was fine by him; it was enough to be able to go through very old motions, to think of another lifetime multiple lifetimes ago, to hold onto what pieces of himself he could still grasp. Or at least, he thought it had been enough. But now he realized how hollow that lie had been for so many decades, so many centuries, because looking back on those solitary days in a kitchen now?

Now it made sense why Adam would always give him those sad, worried looks any time he found him in the kitchen insisting he was enjoying himself.

Read the rest on AO3

or under the cut if you aren't a registered user~

tagging my usual people (let me know if you want to be added or removed!!): @lalizah, @nreads, @agentnatesewell, @gaylatteart, @ottobooty, @wayhavenots, @butchdumortain

A/N: this is my twc zombie apocalypse fic!! thank you to everyone who has been encouraging in my writing procress, i hope you enjoy!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

She is vaguely aware that her nails are ripping the fabric of Nate’s blood-red shirt, almost digging into his sweat soaked skin; that her parched throat is hoarse from screaming wrecked sobs that are shaking her whole tiny body.

Nate’s face is pressed against her neck and he is breathing shallowly, the wetness of his mouth touching the skin of her throat.

“It’ll be alright, ya rouhi,” says Nate, clutching her arm with a gentle grip, long fingers tracing her skin soothingly and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “You’ll see.”

“I don’t want to… to,” Charlie begins, choking on her tears, but doesn’t even know herself what she attempted to say. She can barely see for how damp her brown eyes are, glistening like stars in the dark. “Fuck.”

“Quite,” Nate says through pained gasps, somehow finding a thread of humour in the situation. Charlie’s fingers touch the wound on his shoulder. The creature shred through it so easily; it doesn’t even look like a bite mark – there is nothing clean about it. The meat was torn apart and Charlie can see bone.

“You’re not allowed to leave me, Nate. Not now. Not ever,” Charlie whispers against Nate’s clammy forehead. She can barely believe that this isn’t a mere awful nightmare she won’t remember in the morning.

“I think that was always inevitable,” Nate says back.

“No, it fucking wasn’t,” Charlie replies fiercely, tugging him closer.

Nate chuckles, before groaning in pain. There is a moment of stillness, before he says it: “I think you should do it.”

Thank you to @mornynge and @nevira-names for tagging me with this round! And everyone who tagged me quite some time ago

Taking the plunge and joining a writing group tomorrow, and please let me choose what to work on this week. Also going to take some writing advice and do an hour of prep work beforehand. I’ll promise to share something!

Some Explanations:

Historical Romance is # fate is a mischevious mistress

Weaving comes from this ask (brilliant question by @lalizah )

Thank you for your help :)