#cheezy writes

David froze, his whole system shutting down like a bucket of ice water had been upended over his head. The controlled flex of his muscles became a strained tightness everywhere but his arms as his grip on his mate slackened.

Angel's hands flew to cover their mouth, eyes wide and glittering with about half as much embarassment as they were expressing physically.

David glared down, letting out a strained sigh through his nose as he pulled back.

"Nooo! Wait, baby I'm sorry it just slipped out." Angel whined.

❤️ let’s you listen to “I Am a Poseur” by X-Ray Spex

🎶 Thinks you look adorable in his vest

🎸 Will talk to you in complete sentences but doesn’t mind if you babble or baby talk.

🖤 will diy outfits for u

❤️ 100% takes old/broken plushies and sews them together to make a franken-plushie

🎶 I imagine he’s not the biggest fan of cuddling, but he still likes to hold you. (Maybe a really long hug, maybe picking you up and holding you ❤️)

🎸 If you ask he’ll put on a runway show for you

🖤 Will definitely teach you how to play the guitar

❤️ If you like to watch them when you’re regressed, he’ll watch horror movies with you

🎶 He’d get a bunch of temporary tattoos and fake piercings for you ^^

🎸 Loves kissing you right on your forehead

Damien should not have taken that sip from his water bottle. Up his nose, in his lungs, and down his shirt as the plastic crushed in his hand.

Freelancer tried to pretend not to notice but the corner of their lip quirked upward. Damien wasn't sure if they were teasing him again or if the offer was genuine.

"Just as a friend, it doesn't have to mean anything," Freelancer clarified, hoping to ease the growing tension.

With four simple words, Freelancer had Damien's head spinning, blood and heat rushing outward from his core. Barely thirty minutes prior, they had been talking about how funny getting a rise out of him was.

Just some snippets of a WIP that probably won't turn into more

Hope you enjoy~

🌈 Share something soft/fluffy from your WIP!

This is something I was hoping to have posted for Redactober Day 22 but just didn't work out. I'll finish it eventually

“Hey, Ma. You're on speaker, I'm drivin.” He took their hand again, sending butterflies fluttering through their chest as he snaked his fingers back between theirs.

“I’m so glad you picked up, hun. I can’t seem to get anyone else on the horn tonight. I was doin a little Spring Cleaning today and I found a box-a old pictures and polaroids from back in the early days. There’s a tonna all you kids. Can you come over and take a look and tell me if there’s any you wanna keep before I bring em to the pack meetin tomorra?” Sweetheart pressed their lips together, trying to hide an endeared smile. His mom’s accent was definitely thicker than his and she talked faster. It was only through hearing him talk so much they were able to understand her.

1. Meeting Marie

2. Previously posted snippet, NSFW

3. What If "Your Tsundere Werewolf Boyfriend Shifts For You" didn't have the good ending before "Jealous Tsundere Werewolf Boyfriend Confronts You"

4. 3+1 Explained here in detail

5. Posited in this post, kinda NSFW

6. Prompt - Gallery (Re: On This Day notifications)

7. Mostly headcanons of Milo and Sweetheart's relationship with alcohol in fic/drabble form

8. Aftermath of Asher's April 2024 BA, NSFW

9. Exactly what it says on the tin, the full title is styled after the channel video titles

10. Rarepair inspired by @/dawnofiight

11. "a WIP that probably won't turn into more" I said, y'know, like a liar. Brother's Best Friend AU

Darlin's working security at a D.A.M.N. event. An aura brushes past that feels all too familiar. But they're outdoors, broad daylight. So they focus their senses in tighter, zeroing in on the familiarity. The figure is shifty, cautious, skinny, just a kid, with sandy colored hair. Almost too young to be at D.A.M.N. They murmur into their walkie that they need coverage while they step away and check something out.

The walkie clicks with a 10-4 response and they're off, keeping their own aura subdued and non-threatening as they weave through the crowd back to the familiar freelancer. They reached a hand out to stop the kid but never make contact.

"What d'you want? I ain't doin anything wrong." A familiar accent. And their eyes... Suspicious, angry.

-

Sam kept next to nothing from his life as a human. Darlin had never asked why, never needed to. But when they were moving out of the house William had given him, there had been an old box. Dusty, unmarked, and untouched until Darlin had picked it up to load it on the truck.

They didn't ask about it until they were moved in at the new place. It was the last box left. They'd both been avoiding it consciously or not.

"Pictures, mostly. Keepsakes. Everythin that reminded me of my life... before," he'd admitted when they finally asked. They could feel his core pulse with conflicting emotion.

"Can I see?"

It had taken some convincing, but he did allow them to open the box. To dig into his past and open that part of himself back up. Most of the pictures were old, an entire tiny book binder with a floral cover of them he wasn't even in. He said his Grandma had given him before he'd escaped to Dahlia. There were a few in color, old Polaroids. One of that famous (or infamous) Viper tank top fitting 'as it was supposed to' on him at 17.

But there was one thing, in all the pictures of him, that stood out. That had his words echoing in their mind from a rooftop conversation.

-

The words echo in their mind now as this kid stares them down. 'Brown. My eyes were brown.'

"Didn't say you were, Collins. Come with me, let's grab some food and talk."

"How do you know my name?"

Their response is a raised eyebrow and turning to walk off with a cock of their head, expecting curiosity to get the better of suspicion.

The walkie crackles, Christian asking when they'll be back.