kitweewoos

[kitweewoos]

So beefy.

[kitweewoos]

2024 vs. 2022. I still like this art (my first Imodna art ever!) as is, but I wanted to re-render it using all of the new things I've learned over these 2 years.

Back then, when it was first posted, Imogen and Laudna were just roommates...

[kitweewoos]

“okay.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“okay, great.”

[kitweewoos]

The "rom" in their rom-com

[kitweewoos]

[kitweewoos]

me: i think im over the break up finally, sad that it happened but fanfic is always better…

me, remembering something else stupid about it: —AND ANOTHER THING!!

[kitweewoos]

Tommy always slept with three pillows. One for his head, one between his legs, and one snuggled up to his chest.

Then Evan came into his life, and the third pillow was tucked away in the closet. He simply did not need it anymore. Evan loved to be held, or to hold, and Tommy was more than happy to curl his arm over Evan's warm body and pull him close. Loved to tuck his head right at the nape of Evan's neck, breathe him in, press a kiss between his shoulder blades. Loved to feel the muscle beneath his fingertips. The softness of Evan's stomach, the hair on his chest.

But now, the pillow has been brought back out of closet. It's not warm like Evan. There's no muscle, no neck to nestle into, no shoulder to kiss. The pillow doesn't snore, or wake him up with coffee, or turn them over in the middle of the night and cuddle him for a while.

It's just a pillow. A pillow now littered with the stains of his tears.

[kitweewoos]

Natural druzy Amethyst crystals with Haematite Inclusions Locality: Boekenhouthoek, Mkobola, Mpumalanga, South Africa

Collection: Macro_crystals

Photo: Matthew Parshchikov

[kitweewoos]

A lumpy package addressed to Buck comes four days before Christmas, and a single glance at the handwriting tells him exactly who sent the present.

Ignoring the lump in his throat, he picks it up and smiles at the simple message.

'Merry X'mas. Hope these keep you warm for the season.'

He takes a shower and has dinner, leaving the package unopened. He doesn't know how to feel about receiving gifts from his ex.

Finally, after he makes himself sit through a documentary on arctic animals, he opens the package. Two hoodies - one maroon, one a dark forest green. They're the right thickness and softness. They're somehow achingly familiar, too. On a hunch, he brings them to his nose and he has to smile once he realizes why, even as his eyelashes grow damp.

Tommy has washed them first, got rid of the 'new clothes feel' that he knows Buck hates. The hoodies smell like the detergent and fabric softener Tommy uses.

It's a heartfelt gift, carefully thought through. He pulls the red hoodie on and lets the warmth and scent envelop him. It feels like a promise of a hug.

It's not yet Christmas. His pantry is stocked with the necessary ingredients and he has tomorrow and Christmas Eve off.

Taking a deep breath, he takes out his phone and texts, thanks for the hoodies. can I come by with your gift tomorrow?

[kitweewoos]

“I need a hair cut,” Evan says offhandedly one morning, his fingers running through his apparently too long strands.

Tommy’s gaze snaps away from the paper held in his hands to Evan. He’s shakes his head, opens his mouth before shutting it again, thinking through his words.

“If you— if you want to,” Tommy says, trying to be supportive of his boyfriend’s decisions whilst already mourning the loss of his Evan’s perfect hair.

“Do you— do you not think I should?” Evan asks, looking over to Tommy. He’s still got his fingers in his hair, brushing the loose curls away from his eyes.

“I— I think it’s cute,” Tommy admits, dropping his gaze and blushing slightly.

“You do?” Evan says, almost in awe. Tommy’s always found it ridiculously adorable how receptive his boyfriend is to praise.

“Yeah, baby. It’s my favourite thing to play with,” he replies.

Evan’s eyes light up, a cheeky glint forming in them, and he smiles. “Your favourite thing to play with?” He says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Absolute dork.

Tommy rolls his eyes fondly. “Second favourite,” he mutters, shaking his head.

Evan smirks. “Okay, well, I still need to cut my hair because it’s getting in my eyes at work. And ever since Eddie grew his moustache, Gerrard has been extra vigilant about everyone’s appearance.”

Tommy winces slightly at the mention of the fire captain, memories of the years of emotional repression and his own wrongdoings rising to the forefront of his mind every time the man was talked about. Tommy tries to shake out the thoughts of the man, focusing instead of the gorgeous man in front of him.

“That’s fair,” Tommy agrees. “But uh— well, if you wanted to keep the curls a bit, I wouldn’t be opposed.” That’s an understatement, he loves Evan’s curls, loves how soft they make him look, how they feel under his hands when he runs his fingers through them, loves how he can tug on them and how loudly Evan responds when he does.

Evan smiles at him, his grin almost blinding like the sun — warm and bright, giving Tommy no other option but to smile back.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Evan says, nodding to himself like it’s the most important thing in the world.

Tommy doesn’t get to see the look until two days later. He’s just come off of a gruelling 24-hour shift, with plans to spend the night at Evan’s house. They’ve been together long enough now that he doesn’t feel he has to dress up for the occasion, not that he doesn’t like to put a little effort in for his man, but he can come home after a long shift and cuddle up with his boyfriend like there’s no where else he’s meant to be.

Tommy unlocks the door of Evan’s apartment, smiling softly as he uses the key Evan had recently given him, still unable to contain his joy at the fact that he gets to have this. He wanders over to the lounge, hearing the sound of the TV playing.

Tommy freezes when he spots his boyfriend. He’s laying on the couch, wrapped in a blanket because that man was always cold. He looks ridiculously cute snuggled up on the couch, but that isn’t what stops Tommy in his tracks.

Nope.

Peaking out of the blankets is Evan’s gorgeous face with his pretty pink lips matching the shade of his birthmark. His hair has been cut, sideburns faded away at the sides, the sides and back of his hair having lost some of their weight, and on top lay light brown curls perfectly fluffy, looking so soft. Tommy needed to run his fingers through.

“Hey,” Evan says, shuffling slightly where he sits so that he can look over at Tommy. Tommy who’s currently staring slack jawed at his head, practically drooling over the sight of him.

“Oh yeah,” Evan says, pointing up to his head. “Do you like it?”

Tommy blinks. “Do I— Do I like it?” Tommy lets out a small laugh. “Jesus fucking Christ, Evan,” he says, finally regaining control of his body as he stalks towards his boyfriend.

Evan tilts his head, confused, but it doesn’t last long because Tommy’s on him in an instant, pressing his lips firmly against Evan’s, swallowing any question that he was going to ask. “Do you. Have any idea. How fucking hot. You look right now?” Tommy says, kissing Evan’s irresistible lips between words.

The corner of Evan’s lips tilt upwards against Tommy’s lips as he smiles. “So you like it?” Evan whispers into Tommy’s mouth, seeking confirmation which Tommy is very happy to provide.

Tommy moves back slightly to slide his fingers through his hair. It’s just as soft as they look. Tommy grins at Evan, “I fucking love it,” he says, closing his fingers around some strands and tugging, pulling Evan until their mouths join once more. Tommy swallows the moans that Evan lets out at the action, gripping him close.

Fuck, he is the luckiest man alive.

[kitweewoos]

fat girl in a tight tank top with her tummy showing and boobs spilling out. you agree. reblog.

[kitweewoos]

"See, this is why we should have done separate parties," Eddie groans. "If I had known this was going to happen the whole time!" He raises his voice pointedly at Buck and Tommy who are very busy tasting each other's drinks-- off each other's mouths.

Buck pulls off Tommy's lips long enough to flip him the bird and smirks at him. "You did know this would happen so shut it, Diaz! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go dance with my super hot soon-to-be husband," he declares, pulling a giddy, tipsy Tommy by the hand, toward the dance floor. "Oh, if I were you, I wouldn't look at us because we will not be leaving room for Jesus, he throws back with a grin.

They had decided on a joint bachelor party because neither one of them wanted to be away from each other and so far, it's been a blast. They've been bar-hopping with all their friends and family, ensuring a great time wherever they went. This was their fourth bar of the night and it was almost criminal they had yet to dance properly.

To be fair, they had spent half the time making out-- sue him, his man looks incredibly hot in sinfully molded jeans and a slutty, loose shirt that shows half his chest. Tommy may have sucked his soul though his dick in the bathroom of the last bar and they knew they weren't fooling anyone, when they came out sporting matching dazed looks and Tommy's hair in all states of disarray from where Buck had gripped it.

Now, they're pressed together, Buck's back against Tommy's broad chest and his head thrown back on a sturdy shoulder. Tommy's hands are curled possessively on his hips and they move together sinuously. "Hmm, you feel good," he sighs contentedly.

Tommy uses the grip on his hips to push Buck's ass into his crotch, so he can feel where he's already half-hard. "So do you, feel what you do to me, baby," he growls into his ear.

"Tommy," he whines, turning in his arms, needing to kiss him immediately. Much like their kiss in the hospital, they crash into each other, lips sliding and nipping. He can taste the fruity alcohol they've been swapping all night and it pulls a low moan from his throat. He keeps a hand on the nape of Tommy's neck and the other on his waist.

Tommy grabs handfuls of his ass and echoes his own moan into Buck's mouth. It's only when he hears hushed laughs and whispers, a low whistle here and there that Buck remembers where they are. When he reluctantly pulls away, with a final nip, Tommy's reddened, spit-slick lips make him want to dive in all over again. He kinda doesn't want to get arrested for public indecency on his bachelor party night, though. Maybe.

"Hey," his whispers leaning in to press his forehead to Tommy's, pausing to catch his breath. "Wanna get out of here?"

Tommy pulls back a little to look him in the eyes. "Thought you'd never ask," he says with a wicked smile. He reaches for Buck's hand, tangling it with his own. "Ooo Eddie's gonna be so mad we ditched our own party."

Bucks laughs, turning to scan for their friends around the room. They all look like they're caught up talking to each other, including Eddie, who seems to be in an animated conversation with Lucy. "Psh, let him," he shrugs, rolling his eyes. "Now, let's go consummate this bachelor party." He's already pulling them to the exit. Their friends will understand their Irish goodbye.

"Isn't that for the wedding night?" Tommy asks, biting back a grin. "Besides, didn't we kinda do that in the bathroom already?"

"Potaytoe, puhtato," Buck huffs, waving his free arm. "Now do you or do you not want to go have sex with your very willing, very hot for you fiancé?"

"I want. Very much." Tommy chokes out.

"That's what I thought," Buck smirks, bringing a hand down to swat at his ass. "Hop to it."

He feels Tommy shudder against him. "Sir, yes, sir."

[kitweewoos]

*struggles while writing* i suck and writing is hard

*remembers some ppl use ai* i am a creative force. i am uncorrupted by theft and indolence. i am on a journey to excellence. it is my duty to keep taking joy in creating.

[kitweewoos]

Today On How Not To Comment On Fics:

This commenter is a Buddie fan, and I can tell that by looking at their profile and their recent bookmarks, (which is fine, I'm not yucking their yum like they're doing here) and this fic is Not a Buddie fic, it starts with Buddie but it heavily tagged to say that it is not Buddie endgame, that Buddie have a lot of angst and no happy ending for them, and it ends with Buck and Tommy getting together instead, and yet.... they still decided to (maybe read and) comment on a SIXTY THOUSAND WORD fic. A more insecure writer would be hurt, might take this personally, but I know this person did not actually care about the quality of my writing but just that their special little guys didn't get their happy ending despite having thirty-four thousand fics in their own tag for this specific purpose. I know that they're just looking for something to be mad about, and they found my story and were angry that I dared split up their special guys for an interesting story line. How dare I, you know, write something multidimensional and full of life. So, hey Buddie fans who keep popping into my comments occasionally, keep posting screenshots of my fics on Twitter and trying to "roast" me for being a poor writer without actually reading the fic at all, you're not actually hurting my feelings, sweethearts. Here's a helpful tip for some peace of mind, filter out ships that you don't want to see, like Buck/Tommy or the Buck/Tommy endgame tag, and read the tags before deep diving.... And I think you'll be a lot happier. Anyway, I hope that helps.

[kitweewoos]

This week, I read a fic that was around 20 years old, which had originally been posted on the author's personal website and which she added to AO3 a few years ago. She listed her email address with the fic, so after I finished reading, I sent her an email saying how much I enjoyed the story, how much I appreciated the work and effort she obviously put into it, and thanked her for uploading it to AO3. She responded the next day and thanked me for my message, then said she had a few more stories in the same series that she hadn't gotten around to uploading. I checked this morning--she added a 35,000 word novella and thanked me in the summary.

👏 comment 👏 on 👏 old 👏 fics 👏

[kitweewoos]

grindset

[kitweewoos]

If I post anything about Ira and Morri's flirty ex relationship it is important to me that non-CR fans who might happen to read my posts have the right mental picture going on.