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veronicaneptunes · 2 months ago
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A long time ago, we used to be friends... The Veronica Mars pilot aired 20 years ago today- on the 22nd of September, 2004.
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revasserium · 8 months ago
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A request for the prompt "Stolen kisses" + Zayne!! Thank you so much :D
also I love your writing SOO much <3
prompt list reqs are: temporarily closed
49. stolen kisses
zayne; 1,720 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, but still very saucy, zayne is hornee 24/7 and hes not afraid to show it
summary: 3 kisses, some stolen, others willingly given
a/n: i believe in my heart of hearts that zayne is barely keeping it together around the mc
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one. After dinner, when the pair of you are cleaning up and your sleeves rolled up to your elbows, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you back into him as he presses a kiss to your neck before trailing his lips up to your cheek. Your laughter rings through the kitchen, folding around the pair of you like wings. His smile is soft, is radiant, is tender and absolute as he pulls back to regard you with his searching eyes.
“Good dinner?” he asks.
“The best,” you answer, grinning as you trail a finger along his jaw to tangle your fingers in his hair.
“Good…” he breathes the word against your cheek, leaning in, the ends of his bangs tickling the skin of your face. You make to pull back, but his arms loop tighter around your waist, pressing you close, holding you against the solid cool of the marble countertop.
“But we haven’t yet had dessert.”
Heat flushes up your neck and up, up, up till you can feel your face burning, as you blink up at him from beneath your lashes, feigning innocence.
“I didn’t know we had dessert planned on the menu.”
His grin goes sideways, his eyes taking on a darker, more dangerous light.
“It’s not always planned but…” his voice trails off as a tingling shiver races up your spine, “It is always… considered.”
And then, he leans in to kiss you — and he kisses you with a hunger that has nothing to do with the scrumptious meal you’ve just shared and everything to do with the pulsing heat coalescing between your bodies as he lifts you up onto the counter.
He kisses you like he wants to ruin your mouth for all other tastes but him; he kisses you as if he’s already been ruined by the taste of you.
two. It is unprofessional; you know — and so does he — to do this here, with your back pressed against the wood of his office door, his white coat slipping off his shoulders, his glasses nearly knocked askance by the force of this kiss.
You’d always known that just beneath his smooth, tempered glass facade is the kind of roiling heat that makes up the heart of the earth, the kind of passion that licked at the mouths of volcanoes and rends the sky into nothing but a devastation of ashes.
But here, now, the only rending is his fingers pressing into the dip of your waist, the only devastation his tongue as it traces along the inside of your teeth. You hear yourself make a low, wanton noise and feel him react, his fingers tightening impossibly, his mouth ever and ever more demanding.
“Z-Zayne… we —” but the words die on your lips as he drops his to the bare skin of your neck. You can’t help the gasp that tumbles from your mouth, nor the sudden flash of memory — crystal clear and sharp, as if carved from ice — of the night before, when he had sunk his teeth into your bare shoulder and twisted your hair with trembling fists. It had been pain and impossible, improbable passion. All urge and fire, desperation and need.
“Shhh…” Zayne murmurs against your skin, groaning softly as he finds your lips with his own again. And you are helpless all over again. Weak against the burning need of his embrace.
A soft knock shocks both of you from the frenzied passion soaking through your bones, threatening to blot out your good sense entirely. You pull apart, gasping. From the other side of the door comes the muffled voice of a nurse -
“Dr. Zayne? Your next patient is here. Shall I let him in?”
Zayne hisses out another breath before pulling away.
“Yes, just give me five minutes - finishing a report.”
You can't help the amused grin that tugs across your lips as the both of you make to tidy the slight mess you've made.
“So… I'm a report now, am I?”
But Zayne only regards you with a light, challenging look, quirking his brows.
“No.”
You blink, confused. Then Zayne smiles.
“We’re nowhere near finished.”
A fresh wave of heat crests up into your cheeks as you purse your lips, casting your eyes anywhere but Zayne's pleased face.
“Unprofessional,” you accuse, through the word lacks any vehemence, marred by the extensive blush still coloring your cheeks.
Zayne straightens his impeccably pressed white doctor's coat before taking three swift steps into your space, his chest nearly pushing against yours. He reaches out to tilt your chin up towards him and you feel a hitched breath caught like an insect in amber, suspended perfectly between your lungs and your throat.
Slowly, Zayne draws his thumb across the plush of your bottom lip. You feel his breath fanning across it like a wave of summer heat, found at the heart of winter itself.
“Only in front of you.”
He pulls away just as another gentle knock comes at the door, the nurse's voice announcing the arrival of Zayne's next patient. Zayne casts you one last lingering, meaningful look before gently nudging you aside to pull open the door, the vision of a young and promising doctor as he greets his patient with a small smile, the other hand guiding you towards the opened door.
"Don't forget to take your supplements,” he chides in a voice just gentle enough to inform polite company of his fondness for you, but nothing in it would hint at the indiscretions that had been committed only minutes prior.
"Okay,” you say, ducking your head as you brush by the middle- aged man blinking at the pair of you.
"And… see you at home.”
You only manage a nod and a squeak as the nurse chuckles behind her hand and the middle- aged man makes a soft noise of understanding.
three. You are both eighteen, and teetering on the edge of adulthood — though he’s already well on his way to stardom.
“Congrats — on the Starcatcher Award —“ you feel your throat catch around the words, and suddenly, your mouth is dry, your cheeks hot, your fingers twisting behind your back as you rock on the balls of your feet.
Zayne watches you, his expression thoughtfully blank, but his eyes — they’ve always been his tell. You meet them and search them and feel the fire caught behind them. His Evol might be ice, but… his soul has always been something that burns.
“Thanks,” he says, and you can almost taste the unsaid words bubbling just at the back of his throat. You wish he would tell you, but there’s a depthless chasm cut into the air between the pair of you, rough and jagged and —
“Do you know what I received the award for?”
You blink, startled. You purse your lips, looking away. It’d been too painful, too much to look into it, the knowledge of his brilliance always nipping at your heels like an unruly dog. It had pushed you forward, yes, but only out of the fear that if you let up even one single step, he’d race too far ahead and… leave you behind.
“N-no — I haven’t —“
“For my research on congenital heart defects in infants.”
The world slows, tunnels, and tilts around you. Your eyes jerk up to meet his and there — you see it, the blistering heart of all his so-called fire — and you remember suddenly that if it’s cold enough, the body starts to process the sensation as heat. That ice and fire are not so different.
That ice can also burn.
You find your own hands clutched just above where your heart beats inside your chest and you see his eyes flicker down towards them.
“Zayne —“
“I start work at a clinic next week.”
A frown creases at your temple.
“Our first appointment is on Tuesday.”
Your frown deepens.
“What do you —“
“To qualify for the Hunter Program, you need a medical verification of fitness. And… a primary care physician.”
At these last words, his eyes finally cut away. And here, in the dying light of his brand new living room, the sunset turns his glasses opaque for just a second. You’re left blinking in the aftermath of that light, the afterimages will be stained behind your eyelids for hours after — just that look, the firm line of his shoulders, the determined set of his mouth, his jaw, the softness in his fingers as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering against the bend of your cheek.
“L-Lying on reports would be a medical malpractice suit waiting to happen,” you say, your voice shaking with either delirium or emotion, you’re not sure which.
Zayne quirks an eyebrow, “I have no plans on lying.”
“But —“ your fingers clench at your chest.
“I’m just… confident in my own skills, that’s all.”
The shadow of a grin twists his lips and he turns back to you, his eyes cast in threads of molten gold.
“Oh… of course,” you let out a soft breath of laughter, toppling back into the sofa and tossing your arm across your eyes. A moment later, you feel the cushions of the sofa sink beside you.
“Hey, look at me.”
You drop your arm and turn, your head still pillowed against the back of the sofa. Zayne’s gaze flickers over every aspect of your face before he reaches out to take your hand in his. Slowly, he leans down to press his lips to your knuckles, letting his lips linger there till you make a soft, questioning noise at the back of your throat.
He looks back up with a knowing smile.
“Shall we get something to eat?”
You jump to your feet, “Y-yes! My treat — a congratulations gift!”
Zayne considers for a moment before sighing, “Alright, but just this once.”
“What, we’re not allowed to go out to dinner now that you’re a certified doctor?”
Zayne’s mouth twitches with amusement as he reaches for his coat.
“No, we’ll still go out for dinner — you’re just no longer allowed to pay for them.”
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msbutterfly5294 · 5 months ago
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atelieron · 10 months ago
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got some laundry done this morning so im feeling extra productive today!
goal: finish this week's seminar book, take some time for a self care night
🎧 listening: when i grow up - the pussycat dolls 🎶
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If anyone out there sees my blog, no the fuck you don’t.
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directactionforhope · 2 months ago
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Might fuck around and write a book for real
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meanyart · 3 months ago
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"Do we have a deal?"
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wiltkingart · 2 years ago
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home
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nato-obenkrieger · 2 months ago
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redraw of that one picture of whizzer and jason cause i like never use references and i wanted to try ☝️☝️
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rhythmelia · 1 year ago
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Support a translator of color!
This is an ongoing situation as of 2023.06.24.
My friend Yilin (she/they) does a lot (A LOT) of work translating literature from Chinese to English, among other things. And they allowed me to signal boost this on tumblr since she doesn't have one yet.
The beginning of the thread is here: https://twitter.com/yilinwriter/status/1670305203206385665 and all the tweet images below are not described because they are previews of direct links to the tweets.
Key points: The British Museum stole their translation work and used it, uncredited, in a major exhibit where they "appeared in photos on a giant display, on signage, in a physical guide, in a digital guide, in an audio guide, and in an app that is available for international download. How did NO ONE catch there was no credit?"
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The response from the British Museum has been enormously disappointing so far:
"we will not be reinstating the translations in the exhibition that have been removed following your complaint, and therefore you will not be acknowledged in the exhibition as your work will not be featured" - except the uncredited translations are still in the 30,000 copies of the exhibition catalog.
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Go check out more updates downthread as the situation develops.
Want to support Yilin?
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"If you want to write to them or have written to the BM, you can help convey these demands of mine to them: - credit + public apology everywhere the work appears - proper payment (increased to account for lack of prior permission given & all the time the work was uncredited)"
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Boost Yilin's book! "The Lantern & the Night Moths, an anthology of Chinese poetry that I selected & translated, featuring poets incl. Qiu Jin, accompanied by my essays on translation, forthcoming w/ @/invisibooks in Spring 2024"
Yilin's page: https://yilinwang.com/book-announcement-the-lantern-and-the-night-moths/
and the pre-order link: https://invisiblepublishing.com/product/the-lantern-and-the-night-moths/
I'll try to update as more things happen, or you can go camp out on the thread.
Edit: please reblog the most current update here from 2023.07.05:
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inkliinng · 4 months ago
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Journaling has been one of the most rewarding activities in my life lately.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year ago
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ORV is about enduring the horrors in real time.
(for @everyonesfavoritebastard)
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sforzesco · 1 year ago
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Moreover, Caesar was not satisfied to be over­looked at first by Sulla, who was busy with a multitude of proscriptions, but he came before the people as candidate for the priesthood, although he was not yet much more than a stripling. To this candidacy Sulla secretly opposed himself, and took measures to make Caesar fail in it, and when he was deliberating about putting him to death and some said there was no reason for killing a mere boy like him
Plutarch, Caesar
sulla's fight with caesar is extremely funny, but also very Something considering how much of sulla you see reflected in caesar's later actions. breaking news: grown man picks fight with teenager, more at 11.
bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost
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rabid-reads · 5 months ago
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blueteller · 7 months ago
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All hail Mhuyo, they have the best meme formats ever
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aardvaark · 6 months ago
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im so glad that we never get a clear picture of sophie’s background in leverage & i hope we never do. however i also really like making up various, often conflicting backstories for her in my head. perhaps they’re all backstories for an alias of hers, ones she laid to rest back in season two.
#leverageposting#leverage#sophie devereaux#particularly that one of or both her parents had to move around a lot for work & so she would change herself to fit in at every new school#or new town etc etc. and that whatever original identity she had was dropped due to some kind of really awful event and her bio family think#she’s dead. eg she got into some kind of extreme legal trouble for the first time & she faked her death & everyone she knew as a kid thinks#she’s dead too. like. astrid wasn’t the first person she left to miss/mourn her.#but also that she was a teen runaway at like age ~16 and pretended to be an adult (like. 18/19) cause theres not much you can do by yourself#as a minor like booking flights or renting an apartment. and so began her first proper alias. and she was a pickpocket until she could fund#her life fully through grifting & cons.#or alternatively her parents died when she was a teen & she was old enough to become an emancipated minor (everyone in lev is an orphan)#and she kind of just fell into crime from there bc she had no one#or perhaps she got married at 17 and realised how fucked it all was and stashed money until she could run away & leave it all behind. that’s#bc of a single vague sentence on john rogers’ blog saying she was married at 17 and in context it was quite possibly a joke or random#hypothetical example but i was like what if???? What If???????#i also like the hc that she’s trans which i’ve seen a few times#in some versions in my mind her parents were okay and in some versions they were awful and in some versions it was so complicated.#i think tara has heard one story and parker or hardison have heard another and nate has never heard any story. he’s never asked.#she is here now and that’s all that needs knowing. and sophie devereaux is her real name in any way it matters.#eliot has also never asked and she asked if he was curious once and he just asked if she was curious about What He Did and that was answer#enough for the both of them. just a mutual agreement not to ask and it actually solidified their bond.#i think she struggled for a long time about whether to tell her new family The Real Story but in much the same way we never hear her birth#name bc it’s not Her anymore… she never gives The Real Story. bc it no longer defines who she is. she’s so much more than whatever happened.#lvg
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