#( i swear i can write less

[amuhav]

Aestrya Calaith. Vinari. Captain of the Sentinels and Palace Guard. There was a reason only Calaith had ever been considered to take over Qariel’s position, entrusted with the Queen’s very own safety. The same reason she was the only person Ailos feared more than Kaelys herself. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to never experience the emptiness of that woman’s magic again.

[drysaladandketchup]

Mattdrai and 14 please for the Game. Thank you 💜

Thank you, anon! Once again I have failed to understand the word 'mini'. Seriously never ask me to write something short I don't know how to anymore. I hope it's to your liking :)

14. things you said after you kissed me

He expects a lot of things when he walks into the airport toting his life behind him in a suitcase: the drone of hundreds of voices, the inevitable bustle of bodies, brightly lit screens flashing so much information it makes your head spin, lines, because there's always lines everywhere for everything, the smell of fifteen different coffee shops vying for traveller's attention. Fuck knows he's going to need one of those soon.

What he doesn't expect is to be grabbed mid-yawn as he's on his way to check his luggage. If he was already jittery about the move before, he nearly has a heart attack now when a hand latches onto his bicep and drags him into a shadowy alcove, half-concealed by a thick pillar.

Matthew's brain very unhelpfully provides him with the image of being mugged before he's even out of Calgary. Pissed off fans angry he's leaving for bright, sunny, warm-all-year-round Florida, perhaps? Some even more pissed off Edmontonian who saw he was leaving and came down here thinking now's my chance? He wouldn't put it past some of them.

He's not too far off the mark with that last one. When he rips his arm free and spins to face his assailant, he laughs right in their face.

"Jesus, dude, you look like a stalker."

In fairness, Leon usually dresses pretty decent. But right now he's in plain jeans and a thick, unassuming pull-over sweater--it's fucking summer in Calgary, who does that?--with the hood pulled up over a snap-back, head ducked low so the brim hides part of his face.

"Didn't want to be recognized," Leon says, somewhat defensively, like he's only now realising how very conspicuous he looks in a place like this.

"I got that." Matthew checks his phone. He's got a bit of time for... for whatever this is, so he sets his stuff down and leans against the wall across from Leon. It only puts a couple feet of space between them.

"What are you doing here?"

Leon tugs the hood and hat off his head, runs fingers through his hair. It's still pretty long--Leon's let it grow since the spring, and Matthew has very distinct memories of running fingers through it--but it's also uncharacteristically messy. He doesn't look entirely focused, either; there's shadows under his eyes.

"I came to see you," Leon says.

Suddenly, Matthew really wishes he wasn't here. Either of them. It's been two weeks since they've seen each other, since Matthew broke the news. Not that it was Leon's business. They weren't... weren't anything. Not partners, anyways. Not really. And this was Matthew's choice, his career, his future he was considering. That had to come first.

But now Leon's here, and Matthew has never wanted to run so badly in his life. This didn't feel like running before. The earth could split open and swallow him whole, and it would be kinder than that look on Leon's face, all anger and desperation and confusion and... God, he looks so fucking tired.

It's a 9am flight to Florida. It's just past six now. The sun's barely up.

"Have you slept at all?" Matthew asks, instead of a million other questions.

Leon shoves his hands in the pocket of his sweater and shakes his head. "I couldn't."

"So you drove all the way down here."

"Don't sound so surprised."

"Hard not to be when you haven't talked to me in weeks."

Leon's mouth twists. Slumped back against the wall, curled in on himself, it may be one of the few times Matthew could ever say he looks small. Fragile.

Sighing, Leon finally, finally looks Matthew in the eye. He's not scowling like the last time they met, the night he stood in Matthew's doorway and told him he didn't understand anything before storming out of Matthew's life.

"I thought we should talk. Before you go," Leon says.

Matthew does understand, now. He put it together staring at Leon's back as he disappeared into the night. He knows why Leon's really here. What he really means.

I wanted to see you.

It's amazing how many people say Leon is hard to read. He's always been an open book to Matthew, even when he was snapping and bearing his teeth. All his emotions spilling from the pages.

"Okay." Matthew swallows. "We can talk."

Neither of them does, for a minute. They stare at each other, through each other. Remembering. Committing all the little details to memory. Matthew's palms tingle with the urge to touch.

"You kissed me," Leon finally says, "then said you were leaving."

Yeah, not Matthew's finest moment, if he's being honest. But he didn't know what else to do. There was already so much turmoil around the trade and the shit going on with the Flames.

And then there was Leon. There was no way it wouldn't be gruesome.

"How long did you know?" Leon's voice is rigid, but still calm. "Would you actually have told me, if I hadn't come to see you?"

A year ago, yeah, he would have said it was none of Leon's damn business. Why would he care? But they've come a long way since then. Farther than Matthew could have anticipated. Farther than he realised, until he was staring at Leon's retreating back and silently begging him to turn around, to come back, to stay.

Of course Matthew was going to tell him. He's not an asshole. But that's not what this is about.

"Does it really matter?"

"It matters to me."

"You're not here because you're pissed I didn't tell you sooner."

He knows why Leon's here, and he knows why part of him is stupidly happy Leon is here. Even if nothing will change.

"Did you even think about how I'd--" Leon groans, scratches at the back of his head.

"I did," Matthew says, because it's the truth. Of course he thought about Leon. How could he not?

Leon's gaze drops to the floor, and he grits out, "Fuck. I wanted to do this better."

Matthew can practically hear time ticking by. His heartbeat makes a good clock, thudding away in his chest.

"What is this, Leon? What do you want?"

Dangerous question. Leon could say a million things that would make Matthew's entire resolve waver. If they're not done, if there's even a sliver of hope...

But Leon doesn't say anything. Instead he steps forward, cups Matthew's face between his hands, and kisses him. Not rough or desperate. There's no urgency. It's slow and deep and bruising, and Matthew melts into it because he could never do anything else, and Leon holds tight like he thinks Matthew will disappear if he doesn't.

It's an apology and a confession. It's not the first time they've kissed, but it may be the first time it's been an honest one.

It doesn't last long. Matthew barely has time to taste it, savour it, get a fistful of Leon's hoodie like he's the one threatening to leave. There's a moment as Leon pulls back where Matthew thinks he's imagined it all. Where it feels like something precious is slipping between his fingers.

But no, Leon's still there when he opens his eyes, pressed from hip to chest, noses brushing, beard catching Matthew's freshly shaved cheek. Hot breathes mingle between their mouths.

"Would you stay," Leon whispers, hand sliding back to tangle through Matthew's curls, "if I asked?"

He didn't ask the night Matthew told him. He was too angry, too upset. It took Matthew too long to realise why, to recognise what he was seeing on Leon's face was heartbreak.

But they both know the answer. Still, Matthew closes his eyes and takes the luxury of thinking about it. Considers the possibilities.

"Would you actually ask?" he says.

Leon's fingers curl around the back of Matthew's neck. "If I thought you'd actually say yes."

"But you won't."

"No."

"Because you know I won't."

"I know."

"It's not you."

"I know." Leon steps back only as far as Matthew's grip on his hoodie will allow. "Fuck, you don't make things easy."

Matthew chuckles. "When have I ever? You're not winning any awards either."

Leon scoffs.

"Still," Matthew says. "This is better than what you said to me the first time we kissed."

"What did I say?"

"Pretty sure it was, 'Get the fuck out of my arena.' And something about hoping I lose my next game."

Leon smirks. Doesn't look even a little sorry. "And did you lose your next game?"

"Fuck off." Matthew shoves his shoulder, unable to keep a grin from tugging at his mouth.

He looks away only long enough to straighten out his shirt and run a hand through his hair, but when he looks back, Leon isn't smiling anymore, and his brows are pulled low.

"I really fucked up my timing, huh?"

Matthew winces. "Just a little, yeah." Makes two of us. He's about to say more but Leon waves a hand.

"But you were going to leave anyways, I know. I got it."

"Leon--"

"I'm not here to stop you. I just wanted to... you know."

I don't want this to be over. I want to make this work.

Still an open book.

Matthew angles his head, forces Leon's eyes back to him, staring right into that mystifying grey-blue that always reminded him of a thunderstorm. Everything about Leon kind of reminds him of one. What does that make Matthew? A whirlwind? A hurricane? Storms, both of them.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Matthew steps closer, crowding Leon against the wall this time. They may not have known what they were doing before, but Matthew knows what he wants now.

Leon must have found his answer too, because he kisses Matthew again, no less meaningful than the last, pulling Matthew into his body, into his hands, his mouth. Breathing his air and tasting his tongue, giving and taking until they're light-headed and fitting pieces of each other together.

"You better not be fucking with me, Draisaitl," Matthew pants out once he's got his breath back.

He doesn't get far before he's pulling Leon to him, into his arms, getting the bulk of him in a crushing hug. And Leon hugs him back, a deep laugh rumbling right in Matthew's ear and fingers carving into his back. That's answer enough.

Somehow, Matthew is strong enough to let go. And just like that the world is moving again. He's too aware of everything outside their little alcove, so loud and invasive. He's running out of time. His future's waiting for him down south.

When they step back out into bright lights and bustling strangers, Leon's got his hat and hood back on, keeping his head tilted low. He doesn't stray far, bumping Matthew's arm every so often as he walks with him through luggage check and down towards the gates.

They get to security, and for the first time since the trade decision was made, Matthew hesitates. This is what he wanted. What he still wants. What he needs. The only variable left is...

Leon has stopped a few steps behind, leaving Matthew stranded and alone. He turns back around to find Leon watching him silently. They may as well be the only ones in the world, the way his vision tunnels.

"Well," Matthew says, words clogging his throat. "Guess I'll... see you around. We'll talk. I'll call, or..."

"I'm serious, Matthew." His name always sounds beautiful and dangerous on Leon's tongue. "About this. You and me."

And fuck, Matthew's only human. He drops his bag, marches back over to Leon and tugs him into another kiss. He nearly knocks the hat off Leon's head with the force, crushing his lips and clacking their teeth together. It doesn't even matter if people see them.

One more time. Just one more. Until they can see each other again.

"I know." Matthew shudders against Leon's eager mouth, kissing the smile that breaks out under his lips. "I want to try us too."

He swallows the strangled sound that comes up from Leon's throat, tipsy with it, like he's getting drunk just from this. Is that possible? Fuck knows, but he sure as hell wants to find out one day.

Matthew jerks back, breathless, hot-cheeked, and beaming.

"And I'm gonna be fucking great."

If Leon wasn't slack-jawed, if they weren't the them they are now, he would have chirped Matthew to high hell. If they were on the ice he'd probably put Matthew into the boards just for fun.

But the Leon here and now only scoffs, shaking his head like he's been well and truly defeated. Then he smiles.

"Yeah, I know. So get the fuck out of here and go be great."

[evocatiio]

if chibnall was the one writing this season you lot would be talking VERY differently

[zukkaoru]

the disparity in kudos between a skk fic and a fic for literally any other bsd characters/ship :/

[mostlyghostlyy]

Will be posting next week. Gotta work for the foreseeable future (the next week)

[cmentary-drive]

Okay so about the lore drop 😇😇😇

[johnslittlespoon]

HI I'M ALIVE i swear this is a pattern at this point, i post a new fic/chapter and disappear for a phat day (or two) lmaoo i literally get The Fear and i have to avoid notifs/comments for a bit <33

that being said, wept reading the comments on TAS, i'm so so thankful y'all are vibing with it because i was NERVOUS about posting my first ever modern au and i wanted to make sure it still felt true to the characters but everyone's been so unbelievably kind i'm so wahhahhhh :')) i appreciate the sweet words SO so much, it's so reassuring and so motivating <33

so motivating actually that i'm already halfway done ch2... whoops? litch rally buzzing with how excited i am to write, i don't think i've ever experienced this which sounds strange but like. okay hold i can already tell i'm gonna go on a tangent so let me cut myself off with a read more lmaoo

idk, does anyone else ever sometimes feel like even though obviously we all write fic for enjoyment because we do it for free, sometimes it feels like a chore? not in the sense that i feel obligated to write, but just that even though i feel passionately about what i want to write, it's just hard to get my brain into gear (adhd aside) even when i really want to. i'm just thinking out loudddd now but my concerta just kicked in so it's inevitable LOL word vomit and thought processing is apparently a necessary part of my writing process smh

writing yad(iym) has honestly been so helpful with this because one of the biggest things that i struggle with when writing is that i have a super vivid imagination and can picture exactly what i want to portray/convey, but sometimes i don't know how to get there, but with the dog coded fic i have the timeline of the actual show to follow, so it takes a lot of pressure off in that sense! it's sorta like filling in the gaps because i have something base level to work with.

but 99% of the time when writing, i don't have that, so i end up avoiding my docs often because i feel stuck in terms of progressing the storyline, and my writing process drags on so longgg. i'm finding too now that i'm writing my first (and second oops) actual long fic that oneshots are actually more difficult for me to finish for some reason despite most of mine being shorter than a singular chapter in my fics, which is funny because i was so terrified of commitment starting a chaptered fic but i've ended up being more consistent.

anyway point is, i adore writing yad(iym) and it's been the most fun experience i've had fic writing, but now that i've sorted out the world building aspects for tough and sweet, everything is just flowing and instead of having to sit myself down at my desk and kinda just force myself into the zone, i cannot drag myself out of my docs?? and i've never had that happen but i'm definitely trying to take advantage of it while it lasts and get as much written as possible!

i think it also helps that it's so lighthearted compared to the angst of yadiym (tho i've got some angst planned for tas too lol sry) so i don't have to think as much about the weight behind certain dialogue, or carefully plan out the progression of the relationship dynamic the way the time period/setting of yadiym requires. it's a nice breather from the constraints of the mota–verse (as much as it's still my favourite thing to read/write with these boys), but i also enjoy getting to sink back into that doc when i want something deeper than the little biker boys.

i'm still very much working away on yadiym tho to be clear!! i was scared to start tas before i finished it in case i hyperfixated on tas and my updates got slow on yadiym, but it's genuinely helped me find a balance because i'm always working on one if i'm not working on the other <3 i'm about half done ch6 too for yadiym (how many times can i type that in one post jfc), i'm just at an internal emotions heavy part which i Hate. writing lmaooo give me dialogue or smut and i can type away for hrs but introspection?? internal conflict? hell

ok that's all my fic related rambling thank uuuu/apologies if u sat thru all of that LOL lmk if your writing process/mindset is similar or not bc i'm always curious about how other people's brains work with this stuff!! also how does one get over feeling obnoxious about rambling on their own acc like. this is my acc. i could post 100 times a day if i wanted. i need to Relax good god

[fortjester]

me while I'm at work: can't wait to get home so I can write

me when I get home:

[inyri]

Oh, come ON.

I was outlining the next chapter on my phone and just had the best worst whole section of text somehow lodge itself into my brain like a straight shot from my fucking id-

-and I’m going to have to remember it in long form for the next several hours - yes, I made cheat notes- because if I open Google Docs on my work computer while Big Brother’s watching and actually write any of that down it is going to raise some questions.

(Also, I’ve been writing these two little shits for nigh unto eight years now and they still somehow find ways to throw me for a loop. I thought I knew how this scene was going to end and then someone decides we’re playing- I don’t even know, fucking kink Uno over here throwing down a reverse card, and it’s magnificently in character and I just- ARGH.)

[mirrortouchedsea]

Day 15

“Tatsumi-senpai, have you ever kissed anyone?” Kaname asked, sitting across from the other boy in the catacombs. Everyone else had left for the night leaving the two of them alone. 

“Why are you asking?” Tatsumi replied, confused as he moved one of his chess pieces on the board. Kaname didn’t know anything about how the game worked and was mostly just guessing at where the pieces moved. 

“A-ah it’s nothing, I was just wondering…I haven’t kissed anyone.” Kaname could feel his face heating up. God this was embarrassing, why was he doing this? 

“I haven’t kissed anyone either.” Their game of chess forgotten for the moment. Kaname’s face burned even hotter. 

“Would you--would you like to try kissing?” He barely squeaked out. How was the great Kaname Tojou such a loser when it came to his crush? He should be confident and yet here he was. 

“Can you repeat that, Kaname-san?” He loved the way his name sounded in Tatsumi’s voice. It made him want to die in the moment though. 

“Can I--Can we try…kissing?” His voice was still soft but evidently loud enough for Tatsumi to hear if the slight blush on his face was evidence of anything. Tatsumi gently moved their chess board to the side and slid closer to Kaname. Kaname felt his heart rate pick up at the proximity as Tatsumi leaned in closer. 

How was he supposed to kiss? He tried to remember the movies and how they did it, closing his eyes and letting Tatsumi guide him, his lips slightly parted. The moment Tatsumi’s lips touched his he thought he would fly, and evidently his mouth moved before he could think, as Tatsumi let out a yelp and brought a hand to his lips. 

Kaname bit him. Oh how embarrassing! It wasn’t enough to draw blood but still! 

“I’m so sorry Tatsumi-senpai! I didn’t mean to do that! Oh god--” 

Tatsumi laughed. Kaname stopped in his tracks as Tatsumi continued laughing. He wasn’t laughing at Kaname, though, or at least not at Kaname as a person, but rather at his reaction to the whole thing. 

“It’s okay, Kaname-san. We can try again if you’d like.” 

“Y-yes I’d like that very much.” 

They leaned in again and Kaname clenched his jaw to keep himself from biting Tatsumi again, but he got a little overeager again and felt their heads bump into each other and not where their lips were (which was where he was aiming for). Kaname curses under his breath but Tatsumi giggles again (a heavenly sound to Kaname’s ears) and cups his face before gently guiding him to Tatsumi’s lips. 

Kaname was too in shock to do anything for a moment. He was kissing someone. And not just someone. He was kissing Tatsumi Kazehaya, heartthrob of Reimei Academy. He closed his eyes and relaxed, reaching to grab Tatsumi’s blazer and pull him closer. He felt their teeth clack together but it wasn’t as bad as their first attempt and for Kaname, that was enough. 

They pulled away, panting heavily, and Kaname noticed that Tatsumi’s pupils had dilated. He wanted to pull Tatsumi in for another kiss but held himself back, at least for a moment. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Tatsumi spoke, breathless and full of affection. 

“No, it wasn’t.” Kaname pulled Tatsumi back in for another kiss, narrowly avoiding bumping their heads together again. He could do this forever, just him and Tatsumi in the catacombs, kissing to their hearts content. 

[miraluking-respectfully]

For all my hipster pretensions, I do love Hunter. I also love the hyperspecific intricate, intense, and often erotic relationships everybody’s agent OCs have with him. It got me thinking about him and my own agent, and honestly?

He disappointed her. Deeply, and personally.

Like, okay, despite her misplaced fealty to the Empire, this is a woman who's had almost exclusively bad interactions with Force users in both camps. Her Sith grandfather belittled and tormented her for the crime of being born without her sister's powers. Her mother, his apprentice, only risked enough interference to keep her alive. When the same sister she was always compared to abandoned her and escaped to the Jedi (who then never let them contact each other again), Lyde only narrowly avoided being sent to Korriban in her place.

And then when she made it to Intelligence, Darth Jadus maimed her, compromised the missions of her employers, and critically endangered the Empire. One of her first missions as a faux-turncoat to the Republic was tracking down and incapacitating a fallen Jedi. The protégé she gained on Hoth? Another semi-Force sensitive, hiding from the Sith. Sith meddling dissolved Imperial Intelligence; Sith infighting ate up resources and cost Imperial lives on Corellia.

And, of course, the Dark Council called for her brainwashing, and a former Jedi abused it.

Sure, like Hunter said, the Star Cabal was never recruiting. There was no incentive for him to care about gaining Lyde's allegiance when he already had the remote to her shock collar, so to speak. But, holy shit, he had no clue how many concessions, how much sympathy to his cause he could have wrung out of the woman designated Cipher Nine, if he hadn't made her his whipping girl. If things had gone juuust a little bit differently, Hunter might've turned over the Black Codex, implored her to take care of it with his dying breath - and she might have fucking done it. Nobody, not the SIS, not Sith Intelligence, not even her former ImpInt superiors would have ever seen that data ever again.

But Hunter wasn't that sort of guy. What sort of guy he was learned Cipher Nine's codeword and used it every chance he got. He didn't have to pretend to play nice with her like with his other colleagues, so he made a point of whisking her brain like cake batter, and acted like it was the funniest thing in the world.

When the Dark Council pushed for Lyde's brainwashing, and when Ardun Kothe used it to control her, she was furious - but she wasn't offended. They're trained and powerful Force-sensitives, and as far as she's concerned it's in their nature to sting.

Hunter, though?

Hunter was a fellow frog.

[hp-lonesome-actual-art]

UHM. UH. More messy rushed doodle collection from today. I will not confess to anything my mouth is sealed shut. Most of it is mindless fun; nothing to do with brainstorming storylines or being worried about staying canonical to how his character is typically presented. Head empty no thoughts since I desperately needed a break from animating again

…but yes to answer your question I’m a bit deranged about him please keep scrolling

[edge-oftheworld]

help i'm listening to an orchestral arrangement of holiday by green day and i can't deal with it

[ofpolitics]

me desiring to be a smol menace on the dash vs the fear of accidentally being mean instead of funny: a constant battle.

[skibasyndrome]

I'm about to throw all my academic values overboard to get this fucking article done

[daisywords]

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