#Yeah it's a fic for a fest

[inastarlesssky]

Oh my poor Draco, I'm putting him through the ringer in this one.

[awetfrog]

19 imitator

[thefollow-spot]

"Untitled" (Idol)

Merlin & Arthur ● General Audiences ● WC: 200 ● No Warnings // Written for @merlinmicrofic 2024, for the prompt 'Sunlight'.

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[starwarned]

Inhale

my little entry for @aftg-420-fest !! <3

andreil, 1k words, rated T

summary:

“Want any?” Andrew asks, but he’s not holding out the joint anymore. The next inhale that Andrew takes, he holds for only a few seconds before releasing, the smoke brushing past Neil’s cheek. Neil blinks at the sudden onslaught and he catches on to what Andrew is offering.

read it on ao3 or literally right here!

Inhale

A soft flick of metal striking makes Neil look up.

For a split, panicked second, the sound reminds Neil of a cigarette lighter and the passenger seat of a police car. Before that old terror can take hold, Neil’s gaze catches on Andrew’s face.

His pulse steadies.

Andrew flicks the lighter again and takes a slow drag from the joint he has tucked gently between two fingers on his left hand. Neil’s brain gets stuck on Andrew’s familiar fingers for longer than strictly necessary, but he manages to pry his attention back to Andrew’s eyes.

Judging by the look Andrew is giving him — something unsurprised and almost smug — Neil was obvious in his distraction.

“Staring,” Andrew says, and then takes another, smaller hit, inhaling deeply before releasing the smoke into the air above Neil’s head.

They’re on the roof, and the sun is setting, and Neil likes this so much. He tucks his hands behind his back, officially bidding goodbye to his textbook that’s open on the ground in front of him. He and Andrew have been occasionally coming up here on weekends for hours at a time, now that it’s warm enough to do so. Andrew was a bit smarter for the long term with his pants and orange hoodie, but Neil is perfectly content in running shorts and a long sleeve. He’s sitting in an easy stretch on the blanket that Andrew had brought up with them, his foot a few inches away from Andrew’s.

He pokes Andrew with his socked toes.

“Know what year the War of 1812 was yet?” Andrew asks in retaliation.

Neil doesn’t answer but shuts his textbook, shoves it off to the side, and then scoots in closer.

Andrew holds out the joint in offering, but Neil doesn’t take it. He has smoked with Andrew a few times since Andrew and Aaron picked it up, and doesn’t mind it when they do with more regularity, but he hasn’t really gotten the hang of it yet.

When Neil scoots in even closer, Andrew tucks his legs in so he’s cross-legged between Neil’s outstretched legs. Neil tucks one up and Andrew’s hand immediately goes to his knee, softly running his fingers over Neil’s skin, tracing the shape of his kneecap.

“Want any?” Andrew asks, but he’s not holding out the joint anymore. The next inhale that Andrew takes, he holds for only a few seconds before releasing, the smoke brushing past Neil’s cheek. Neil blinks at the sudden onslaught and he catches on to what Andrew is offering.

He shrugs, and then eyes Andrew’s mouth, where he’s already drawing the joint back to his lips. Andrew wraps his mouth around the filter, and then inhales, his cheeks bowing in with the movement, and Neil doesn’t bother to hide his staring again.

“Andrew,” Neil says.

Lifting his hand from Neil’s knee, Andrew tucks it under Neil’s chin, and draws him close. He squeezes just enough that Neil’s mouth falls open slightly.

His mouth barely an inch away from Neil’s now, Andrew exhales the smoke. Neil doesn’t have to move. He just inhales, sucking in softly, and letting his eyes shut at the feeling of the smoke entering his lungs. It’s easier this way, and Neil hums softly as he lets out the breath.

“More?” Andrew asks, and his voice is low and soft. Neil tries not to get turned on by it. (He fails supremely.)

“Yes,” he says, and Andrew takes another hit, adjusting his hand so he can slide two fingers under Neil’s chin, and pull him in again. This time, Andrew’s lips brush against Neil’s as he exhales and Neil has to focus in order to inhale properly.

Neil has to turn away to exhale and Andrew drops a kiss against the shell of Neil’s ear. Neil turns back to him, and they’re barely a breath apart.

Then Andrew’s mouth is on his, a whispered, “Yes or no?” tucked against his lips. Neil’s responding “Yes” is muffled, but clearly received.

The effect of the weed isn’t immediate, but Andrew’s mouth is, and insistently so. Andrew kisses Neil with an intensity that never fails to absolutely floor him.

They kiss with fervor that only slows slightly as the weed kicks in. It’s barely a buzz in Neil’s skin, just weighing him down, settling his brain a bit. He bites down on Andrew’s lip and then sucks on it, grinning when Andrew inhales sharply. When Neil pulls back just a bit, he finds Andrew’s stare and stifles a smile at how high he looks already — mouth soft, eyes hooded, gaze easy.

“Done?” Andrew asks, holding up the joint, which has long gone out, but could be relit if Neil wanted it. He doesn’t, so he shakes his head. The joint gets dropped unceremoniously on top of Neil’s textbook.

Wind whips across the rooftop, sudden and stinging cold. Neil’s exposed legs get the brunt of it and he shivers, but the gust is short-lived. With the sun this low to the horizon, it is colder than when they first retired to the roof. Neil scoots in closer to Andrew, and Andrew completes the move by gripping Neil around the waist and tugging him up into his lap. Neil wraps his legs lazily around Andrew’s hips.

“Andrew,” he murmurs, face pressed into his hair.

Andrew doesn’t say anything and sets his mouth against Neil’s neck, leaving a kiss there and then tilting his head to run his nose along the same spot.

“Andrew,” Neil says again, and it’s a sigh this time. Barely there, whipped away in the next harsh breeze.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“Stop being so comfortable,” Neil mumbles.

Not rising to the comment, Andrew tucks his face fully into Neil’s neck and rests more of his weight on him.

It’s not Neil’s fault that he falls asleep a little bit. It’s not his fault that he never feels safer than he does in Andrew’s hold.

Andrew doesn’t call him on it. He just holds him. Neil trusts Andrew to take his weight, to hold him there.

Neil trusts Andrew to wake him up if he’s going to smoke more.

[t1meslayer]

Live Wire

I like the featured image I made for last year's Mariver fic a bit better, but let's not worry about that

Hey hey!! Welcome to:

Mariver Week 2024

Or... Welcome to the end of it. Life's been a bit. Much. So, I only really had time to write the one fic for Free Day (forgive me for this transgression oh Mariver CEO @squidryder).

I do think this one is a banger, at least.

It even has... Surprise art???

We go all out for our faves on the T1meslayer channel, folks.

===

Fandom: Splatoon

Pairing: Marie/Shiver (part of my "Mariver Madness" series)

Summary: Deep Cut's Frosty Fest broadcast takes an unexpected turn when Shiver's team has a fortuitous upswing.

Click through the Read More below to get a preview of my favorite lesbian cephalopods. Thanks for reading <3

"Frye, I told you: nobody's favorite holiday cookie is peppermint flavored." They snicker condescendingly. "Bevvies? Sure. But biting into a chewy chunk of toothpaste isn't winning any awards."

"Says you!" Frye throws her nastiest, stankiest face toward Shiver, and then sticks out her yellow-dyed tongue. "Some of us LIKE a little flavor in our desserts."

"Ay… ('A little' is being generous…)"

[hl-obsessed]

.

[pynkhues]

Okay, I’m listening to the good wolf this morning and deleting asks re: the discourse last night. Thank you though to those who explained, indulged and argued though!

[nikarie5]

Moonster Monster - Snippet

Rating: General audience Description: Remus's Lions and university worlds start to bleed into each other with a little prank welcoming him into the league as a player. Thanks to @lumosinlove, @noots-fic-fests, @hazelnoot-analyst for their general awesomeness.

"What the heck?" Remus pulled the hard, thin object out of his suit bag. Flipping it around, he saw the bright primary colours of Dr. Seuss, and the classic Dr. Seuss font. "Give us a read", shouted Nado, seconded quickly by Walker. "Marvin K. Mooney, will you please go now!, by Dr. Seuss", started Remus, before adding, "feeling really welcome right now, guys."

Moody and Arthur walked in, saw the players circled around Remus, and grinned.

Moody barked out, "That was an instruction! All of you, GO NOW. There's a traffic jam en route, and we are already running ten minutes late. Story time can wait until we're on the bus."

Once on the bus, however, Talkie started pulling books out of his bag and stacking them on the seat next to Remus.

"It appears you've been holding out on us a lot more than we knew, Loops. Or should I say, Moony? Quite a few former Badgers have started sending me these - he plonks down a pile of books and starts reading off titles - Goodnight Moon, Moony Luna, The Magical Drawings of Moony B. Finch, more than 10 different books titled Moon Monster, and, AND you haven't even noticed that I've been scattering them around the rink for the two weeks!" "Geez! That was what was going on? I thought we were having another book drive!"

"And the donation bin is your stall? So. Are you Moony, or are you Loops?"

"Loops." "Yeah?" "Yeah. Moony doesn't fit me anymore. I like Loops, it feels good."

"K, Loops." Kasey pipes in from the seat behind, "Kay Loops. We still want story time though." Remus sighs, and grabs the first book off the pile. "Goodnight Moon, written by Margaret Wise Brown, and illustrated by Clement Hurd." "In the great green room, there was..."

[milliesfishes]

nobody is ready for you and i’s flufftober duo im cooking with ideas and you’re gonna floor people with your writing 😈😈🙏🏾

I AM SO EXCITED!! guys we’re doing Flufftober this year!!!!

[imaginary-wanderer]

Reading German and Italian fics auto-translated in English with Google Translate, from two different fandoms, is interesting. I have a better level in Italian than German (should be the contrary but I learned German at school 25 years ago and Italian in 2021 so... yeah) so I can switch between the original version and the translated one when the translation is strange to check the original text and see what I understand of it (very often, the translation is way too literal or it extrapolates like mad. Very strange).

Google definitely translates German more “stiffly” than Italian. I don’t know if it’s more about the writing style in German in general, or just the writers’ styles even, but in Italian>English, things are flowing a little more. 

The common thing is how it mixes pronouns/articles. With Italian, it’s quite understandable but it also shows the limits of the AI. And they’re low in this case. In Italian, you can not use articles when you know who you’re talking about, if it makes sense in context. So in a fic full of male characters, clearly depicted as “he” or “him” and other gendered articles several times, Google still replaces the “missing” articles in English by “she” or “her” when two male characters are interacting. It never replaces both by “she”, though, it’s always one of the guys... So many mlm romantic scenes becomes het scenes and it’s a NO.

It also happens with translated German. I’ll need to check the original versions when it happens but it’s really weird when there’s no female characters at all in a short oneshot, not even mentioned once, and the male characters are written several times as “he”. Where do the female references come from in the translation? Or is Google Translate trained primarily on het content... 

[everythingsinred]

random midnight ramblings but.... its tragic how difficult it is to effectively pull off a jealous!mikan plot in au fanfics, not bc mikan hasnt been jealous (bc she HAS and HOW) but bc natsume is so devastatingly a one-girl-only kind of guy that its hard to put him in a realistic situation where mikan would be jealous in a meaningful way.

like in the sports fest arc, natsume is forced into pretending to date (?) luna. he holds her hand and spends all his time with her, meaning that mikan HAS to confront her feelings in a way she didnt have to before. its a pretty big deal in terms of her storyline, but natsume had to be forced into that situation for it to actually play out. otherwise, he'd never leave mikan's side.

and that's pretty much the biggest problem for fanfic writers who wanna explore that aspect of jealousy: how to realistically have that storyline play out in a world where natsume is not in the da class/a child soldier. how to get natsume, who is ultimately only interested in mikan when it comes to romance, to even glance at another girl without it being forced.

it's very weird to think about and i think it's part of the reason why i've never really liked the idea of natsume having ex-girlfriends who actually meant something. narratively, i'd honestly rather have natsume be a playboy and y'all know i dislike playboy!natsume so much.... at least if it's some sort of ridiculous serial dating without any real feelings involved it stays true to natsume's unique devotion to mikan. i still don't like it but ig if i had to choose...

so yeah it's a weird and tricky situation and i get it, fellow fic writers.... it's so hard. bc i LOOOOVE mikan's jealousy so much but it's so hard to make it come about in a natural way that stays true to natsume's character.

[ace-of-hearts-and-spades]

Nothing makes you realize how little you know about the human body and medicine like trying to write Saw fanfiction.

[nooradeservedbetter]

WIP Game

RULES: Post the names of the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thank you @enchantedlandcoffee for tagging me!!!

I do divide my WIP folder in "stuff I'm currently working on", "stuff I have temporarily abandoned" and "stuff i will work on in the future". Posting just the first one for the sake of brevity.

Men of steel, men of power (Larry)

Wanderection shit (Larry)

Ziall (self-explanatory lmao)

Pet fic (Larry)

The one in which Stiles summons a demon to play videogames (Sterek)

Lyra (Cora/Lydia from Teen Wolf, I know the correct ship name is cordia, but...)

Nooreva

Tagging (no pressure ofc ofc!!!) @hellolovers13 @persephoneflouwers @imogenleefic @larrysballetslippers @alwaysxlarrie @onlythebravest @goldenkinglouis

[allsassnoclass]

....

[avemstella]

I'm writing furina fic Neuvillette spin off and god I feel so bad for the people that wanted more fluff in a potential expansion. I just wrote the most deranged scene 😭 and I have so many more similar ideas. Like don't get me wrong there's a bunch of cute stuff too, but still. good lord what did I just write

[munson-blurbs]

Summary: A missing key and a terrible storm leaves you and Eddie stranded in the back of his van. What ever shall you do to pass the time?

WC: 1.6k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, friends-to-lovers, kinda sub!Eddie but he's mostly just a simp.

A/N: This will be my last 1k+ fic for a while, as I'll be focusing on writing blurbs for Corroded Coffin Fest throughout July. Why not go out with a (literal) bang?

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“What do you mean, you forgot your key?”

Your eyes widen as Eddie flicks through the keyring. He shakes his head in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. 

“I was switching keychains…I thought I put them all back…” He huffs out an irritated laugh. “Must’ve left the house key on the table.”

A warm breeze siphons through the humidity, gray clouds rolling in. August in Hawkins is unbearable as it is, and the sticky heat before a storm is downright brutal. 

Eddie jiggles the doorknob once more, to no avail. “Jesus H. Christ.” He rakes a hand through his curls, frizzy and knotted from the hot weather. “Back to your place?”

Before you can agree, lightning flashes and is swiftly accompanied by booming thunder. Your heart leaps into your throat and you jump. 

“Scared the shit outta me, too.” Eddie laughs nervously. A fat raindrop falls from the sky and plops on his nose, rolling off of the side. Another lands on his cheek, then one lands on yours, until rain pours in a steady sheet. 

Eddie grabs your hand, tugging you off of the trailer’s front steps and pulling you back to his van. He flings open the back doors, always kept unlocked unless he’s hauling concert equipment. 

“Get in,” he orders, and you follow his instructions without a second though. Rainwater pools in the grass, dirt turning into mud beneath your sneakered feet. His hands grip your waist, steadying you as you climb up. “We’ll wait in here until the rain dies down.”

You ignore the lingering flames that his touch leaves behind and the way he’s now sitting right next to you. “It’s like a monsoon out there.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, listening to the storm raging outside. Raindrops sound like drum beats against the van’s exterior, a song you’ve heard many times before. 

A chill sweeps over you, reminding you of the wet cotton of your t-shirt clinging to your torso. Your miniskirt hasn't fared much better, the light-washed denim now dark. 

“Do you have a blanket back here?”

Eddie shakes his head. “That’s, like, the one thing I don’t have.” He gestures to the cluttered space. 

You offer a half-smile. “S’okay.” Your palms glide up and down your goosebump-covered arms. 

He notices this, frowning. “Here,” he says. “My hands are bigger than yours.” He clumsily positions himself behind you, knees knocking against your sides. His grasp is strong but gentle, hands warming you up from the outside in. 

“Thanks.” He’s close—so close—yet it feels like he’s never been farther away. Without thinking, you scoot back until your ass brushes against his fly. 

“Sh-Shit.” Eddie inhales sharply. “That’s, um, dangerous territory.”

You raise your brows, though he can’t see them. “And rubbing my arms isn’t?”

Eddie peers around, chin resting on your shoulder. He looks up and says, “it doesn’t turn you on though.”

“Says who?”

He breathes out a laugh, stopping immediately when he realizes that you’re not joking. His voice is barely above a whisper when he asks, “This…this turns you on?” 

You nod, suddenly shy at the admission. 

“How about this?” Eddie’s lips press against the back of your neck. One calloused hand reaches for the collar of your shirt, tugging it down to expose your shoulder. He kisses that, too, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. 

“Mhm.”

“Fuck.” His other hand snakes around your throat, holding it firmly but being careful not to squeeze. “We shouldn’t do this. S’gonna ruin our friendship.”

Gently, you turn to face him, legs straddling his waist. “I’m fine with ruining it if you are.” The words are murmured, muffled by the proximity of your lips and his. 

Eddie swallows, Adam's apple bobbing with trepidation. “Just want you. Fuck, I want you so bad.”

He grabs your ass and pulls you closer until you can feel his erection straining against his jeans. You roll your hips, eliciting a moan from him. 

“You—I gotta—” He unbuckles his belt, tossing it amongst the van’s clutter. “I’m so hard it hurts.”

You reach for his pants button, but he shakes his head. “I’ll bust if you touch me,” he sheepishly explains. 

He takes off his own pants, which is much more of a chore than usual because of the rain-soaked fabric. He doesn’t bother to remove his Hellfire shirt, but you hardly notice. His tented boxers hold your focus, and despite his warning, you strip them away. You need to see what’s beneath them. 

The sight before you is nothing less than glorious. 

His cock is hard, curved slightly left, the pinkish-purple tip already leaking pre-cum. Your thumb traces the vein that runs along the shaft, and he shivers at your touch. When he looks at you with wide, wet eyes, you nearly melt on the spot.

“Is…Is this what you want?” Eddie’s voice is so soft you can barely hear it above the pouring rain. “Because…I want this so bad. So fucking bad.” Pleading, desperate, bordering on pathetic. Everything he showed outwardly, you felt on the inside.

You lean in, capturing his lips and pouring all of your desire into one searing kiss. “Don’t just want it. Need it. Need you,” you reassure him, feeling his length twitch against you. Taking it in your hand, you move your panties out of the way and rub the head against your clit. Every nudge sends a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. “Mmmph, please, please.”

Eddie wraps his hand around yours, guiding his cock into you. “There you go,” he whispers, hissing as you sink down. He fills you completely, bringing a pinch of pain as you adjust to him. “You okay?”

“Mhm. M-More than okay.” You grip his shoulders, curling your fingers into the shirt’s cotton fabric.  Moving your hips, you work him deeper until he’s bottomed out, sheathed within you down to the curls at his base. 

Everything is Eddie, and it feels so good. 

“Can’t believe I’m inside you.” He tries to kiss you, the action hindered by a small laugh. “I’m actually—we’re actually doing this. Fuck, you feel so good!” The last sentence is a growl, raw and primal. 

You hold on to him, knees scraping against the van’s worn carpet as your movements find their rhythm. There’s no more time for self-control. Only Eddie, his hips bucking to meet your core. 

“Might…might not last long,” he admits, swiping at a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. “You’re even better than my fantasies. Never knew you’d feel this f-fucking warm. Tight. Like you’re m-made for me.”

“Maybe I am.” You swoop down to suck on his neck. “Maybe I am made for you, and I’ve been waiting for you to realize it.”

Eddie groans, throwing his head back and exposing more of his neck, which you dutifully continue marking. His thoughts are clouded by lust; neither of you speak for a while, the only noises are moans and the van squeaking on its axles. 

“It’s always you.”

Your eyes meet his. “What?”

“In my fantasies. It’s always you. Every time I jerk off, I imagine your hands, your mouth, your perfect pussy—”

“Eddie.” His name is barely a breath. You clench around him just as he kisses you, and his teeth sink into your lower lip. It’s not hard enough to draw blood, but it produces a twinge of pain that has you skyrocketing towards climax. “Yes, yes, yes!”

He grabs your hips harshly, keeping you flush against him. The denim waistband of your skirt digs into your skin but you don’t care. Nothing matters, only Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…

“I’m coming. Fuck, I’m coming.” He thrusts upwards in short, punctuated strokes, heaving as he spills into you. 

The two of you stay like that for a few moments, catching your breath and processing what just happened. You confessed that Eddie’s touch turned you on, you rode him in the back of his van, and then he confessed that he thinks about you when he touches himself. 

Oh, and he gave you an earth-shattering orgasm. 

As if reading your mind, Eddie says softly, “you came…right? Because if you didn’t, I can—”

“Yeah.” You can’t help but giggle, silencing him with a kiss. “I definitely came.”

His chest sags with relief. “Good. Me, too. I mean, obviously. It’s right…” He withdraws, cock softening, his cum trickling down your thigh. “Holy fucking shit.” 

There’s no masking his grin, visible through the t-shirt’s thin fabric as he pulls it over his head. With a careful touch, he wipes away his mess. 

“I think I owe you a new shirt.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, tossing the shirt aside. “I have a million of these. Not the first time one’s been, uh, stained.”

Eddie’s cheeks turn crimson at his admission. He averts his gaze from you, bringing his attention to the foggy window. The condensation squeaks under his forefinger as he draws a smiley face through it. 

“What do you wanna do till my uncle gets home?”

You, you think, but the last thing you need is for Wayne to find the van a-rockin’. “Maybe I could hear more about those fantasies of yours? And I could tell you some of mine?”

Eddie looks back at you, his spent cock still managing a small twitch. “Mmm.” His lips find your throat, sending vibrations through you when he speaks. One hand snakes between your bodies, his middle finger landing on your clit. He makes small, deliberate circles as he murmurs.

“Ladies first.”

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