#huge fucking wip. if i even finish it

[mothfinite]

we r getting somewhere........ (>×e)9

[oflgtfol]

while im looking thru my old unfinished art, happy pride month to my two gay kitties from the warriors oc fanfic i was writing back in 2017-2018. featuring skystar's boyfriend who would show up later in the fic which i never got to write far enough to feature him. lol

[swordsonnet]

unstoppable force (my desire to write) meets immovable object (my chronic illness)

[cj-theyoungling]

Bat Fam HCs

A/N: Just wanted to put a little something out before I disappear again for finals week. I have a lot of WIPs that I might post snippets of in the coming days but I haven't been able to have the bestie beta read anything yet so it'll be a while.

Bruce tells the same handful of stories every time he talks to the kids to the point where they just finish the story for him instead of listening to what he has to say

Tim and Damian pretend to argue so that they can get out of doing chores and be sent to their rooms instead.

Jason and Damian are not allowed to be on different teams for literally anything. They get too competitive with each other and will hurt people on their own team while trying to one up each other.

Steph and Tim love to decorate for the holidays, the mansion is decked out for literally every holiday, even minor ones. (They brought a tree into the Manor for arbor day. No one knows how they brought it in with no one noticing)

All of the kids have snuck into bed with Bruce at least once. They all pretend it didn't happen but Bruce eats it up.

Damian makes everything a competition. He once tried to out-do Dick in acrobatics and ended up breaking his arm.

Cass loves to lie. She'll just tell people that their body language is telling her that they're lying. It confuses the fuck out of everyone

Tim and Jason have both written fanfiction about Batman and now it's become a secret competition for who can get the most likes.

All of the kids have horrible .5 photos of each other on their phones. Mostly of Damian tbh.

Jason love telling people that he thinks Batman and Superman are dating. It's become a huge meme

Tim and Steph made a clip chart for the Batcave. Jason has been on red for like two weeks.

[brucewaynehater101]

I have a vent fic wip that I may or may not finish so I just need to tell someone that I am...feeling so many things all the time about the consequences of the 16th birthday but...

primarily, right now, at this moment. without Robin/Bruce, Tim thought he would lose Dick and everyone else he knew through Robin. and then a little bit later when he quit for Jack, he got radio silence for Months until he became a potential victim, and even then it was just Cass stopping in to give the message and be like "I'll watch you to keep you safe 👁️👁️ ok bye" and he had actual Proof that without Robin, he would lose everyone.

and then. Dick "you're my equal (even tho I'm drastically changing your life without your knowledge or permission), you're my closest ally (even tho you don't even have a name to go out in the field to assist me as backup), I need you (even tho, as mentioned, I made a huge decision without your input because I didn't need it because I know best actually)" Grayson.

skipping over the fact that Dick didn't even have the time to say "you're fired" or anything resembling that, when Tim lost "Robin" to Damian, he felt like he lost everything else too. it didn't matter what Dick said about "equals" or "allies" or "needing". he already had Concrete Proof that it was all false. cheap words that are easily disproven do nothing in this situation, Dichard!

(disclaimer: I love and respect Dick Grayson, I just also think Dick Stopped Existing as soon as he made Damian his Robin for the most pathetic stupid illogical risky-ass excuse he could ever give for making anyone Robin (or a vigilante in general). "because he'll kill someone again". who the fuck says that?? who thinks "oh no oh god oh fuck this kid is gonna go off the rails he's gonna kill someone, I need to Put Him In A Place Of Power Over Oblivious Innocent Untrained People Who Are Expecting A Kind And Empathetic Hero To Save Them" hUH???? ok sorry, I just wanted to rant about what Tim "losing Robin" meant)

I agree with ya. Dick Grayson is fantastic, but it seems weird that he nuked his entire relationship with Tim (a very strong one that other fans have referred to them as "The Brothers") for the new kid.

Yes, Damian is a ten year old traumatized kid who just lost the dad he didn't really have the chance to get to know. Yes, Damian needed guidance, boundaries, and compassion.

But DC spent so much time and effort building up Tim and Dick's rapport only to obliterate it once the "blood son" came in (I also love Damian. This is not hate on the kid. This is confused commentary on DC's choices). It's just a strange idea, but that's also why it hurts so much when Dick does that to Tim.

Then you tie in Tim losing Robin by Dick to Tim's experiences before? Fuck. You are so right for that.

As far as the RR run, Dick could've handled Tim believing Bruce a bit better. I don't necessarily blame him for that one. I get why he wasn't supportive in the way Tim wanted, even though I would've chosen differently for my siblings.

Dick taking Robin, though? That was fucked up. I, honest to the gods, do not see how that was a justified course of action. I can understand his perspective, but it's still not okay. At all.

There's your very adequate analysis:

Robin, for Tim, is his tie to his loved ones. He has proof (twice) that without it, he does not have access to the people he cares about and his support system.

Dick said a lot of pretty words about "equals," but his actions were precisely contradictory to his "intentions."

Tim has had Robin taken from him before or had to give it up. He chose to go back despite this. He obviously feels strongly about being Robin

Damian has not proven, at this point, to be trustworthy as a vigilante (someone in power without oversight). He has instead shown use of excessive force

This isn't even going into the way he found out. That's just an extra layer.

The way Tim has repeated lost and regained Robin (even after RR) as well as his title as Red ROBIN are, to me, a sign that he's still trying to hold on. It's my belief that he would have moved onto a new title, like his predecessors, if it hadn't constantly been an unsure role.

His start was rocky as hell due to Bruce not initially wanting it. Tim had to prove himself and put himself into the costume.

He "quit" twice before it was taken from him in a traumatic way (nothing like being instilled with the fear that the position you've held for four years can suddenly be yanked out from under you without warning)

Damian and Jason both vehemently protested to him being Robin

It would make sense if all of these factors combined to Tim's unwillingness or inability to just let Robin go, especially when we factor in his reason to be Robin. Since Bruce never really gets "better" and continually falls back into bad habits, Tim needs to maintain his task of pulling Bruce back from the edge. We could also throw Jean Paul into this to further how Tim is forced to play as the barrier between a grown adult and their desire to harm others in the name of good.

So, Tim's time as Robin is marked by consistent instability while contrasted with his inherent position as Bruce's leash and the batfam fixer. While the other Robins did have times of doubt, the predecessors of Tim did not have the pervasive role insecurity with regards to Robin.

They had their big moment at the end and some smaller moments in-between, but not quite on the continous scale of Tim. Tim had three big moments and was still sucked back into Robin when Damian quit.

To be Robin is to earn Bruce's love and the ability to be part of the Wayne family. To lose Robin is the risk of losing that (at least to the perspectives of the Robins if not 100% the reality).

I'm not sure I'm articulating this accurately. Regardless, no wonder Tim clutches the title of Robin with bleeding hands no matter how much it cuts him and costs him.

[ahotmesswithprivilege]

Never Alone

paring: Bradley Bradshaw x female!IC!reader (callsign Nike )

wordcount: ca. 3700 (only because this will be a multi-part thing XD)

synopsis: When Bradley stumbles out of the Hard Deck with a pretty tag chaser he has a plan for the night. Take her home, fuck her, kick her out. Not that this was something he did often but with the stress at work he needed to let off some steam. That is until he hears someone crying and his night takes a turn he hadn't expected at all.

note: I initially intended to post the whole thing (currently at almost 12000 words 🤯 ), but I really wanted to post a new piece and since I started a lot of new WIP instead of finishing something I thought this would be a good idea. Also, my Rooster debut so to speak (you can thank @mynameismckenziemae for this one. The fact that Rooster is the hero in this one is kind of on her 😅 . Thanks for helping me decide and for listening to my rambles on the regular. I am really thankful for the support) and I hope you all like it. And you know that navy inaccuracies are a given with my stuff, but this time I went a bit more ham than usual. The role of IC (Incident Commander) is existing in crisis and natural disaster management but fuck if I know if some work for the Navy. I made all of that up for the sake of the plot. Don't like that, please skip this one. And last but not least, yes this is yet again very self-indulgent stuff and it will get only worse with the next part, so if you don't like it, click off 😘

Trigger Warning(If I forgot something or you want me to add to the list, my inbox is wide open. You are responsible for your media consumption, so proceed with caution, you know the drill): plus-size!reader, military/navy inaccuracies, non-canon (not even sure if this is canon compliant so, take that as you will), allusion to trauma/dissociative episode, written by a non-native speaker

|| Masterlist ||

divider by @sweetmelodygraphics banner by @firefly-graphics gif by @jensens-ackles

!!!Minors do not interact! I block blank blogs/without age/Minors!!!

When Bradley stumbles out of the Hard Deck with a pretty tag chaser on his arm he knows how this is gonna end. Take her home, have some fun and then kick her out. He wasn't one to indulge often, but considering how Maverick had been on his ass during training all week, he really needed to let off some steam. His arms were wrapped around her waist, lips wandering over her neck as he manoeuvred her back towards his Bronco until he stopped in his tracks.

There it was again. He had almost missed it with the busty brunette giggling into his ear, but he was sure that he heard right. "Hey Casanova, I am down here", she puts a hand on his cheek to pull his focus back to her," You wanted to show me a good time, remember?" But Rooster couldn't focus on the way her hands were roaming his body or the way she began to kiss his jaw, leaving a trace of lipgloss in her wake. "Didn't you hear that? Someone's crying" "That's just a girl who got what you promised me", she retorts, but it only makes him cringe. If this is how she imagined the sound of a consenting couple, he sure as fucking hell didn't want her in his bed.

Untangling himself from her limbs he walked over to the dark place next to a huge palm tree. The curled-up figure was barely visible in the shadows, but the sniffling was getting louder the closer he walked. "Hey what about me?", the woman whines, stomping her high heel sandal-clad foot on the ground. "Go in and find yourself another set of tags", he growls back annoyed, regretting the tone of his voice and the volume the moment he sees the figure flinch.

This was bad.

For a moment he wondered if he should call Phoenix or even Penny to make sure he wasn't doing more damage than good, but then he saw how a ring caught the light from the Hard Deck entrance. He knows that ring. The silver laurel branches that are winding around a delicate finger. He has seen it more than once.

"Nike?", he freezes for a moment unable to compute the situation. He had been at the Hard Deck all night and was sure he would have spotted you in the crowd. Not to mention that you weren't one for bars. You said as much yourself whenever one of the others had invited you for an evening out. "Hey Nike, it's me. Rooster", he tries to make himself small as he approaches, not wanting to intimidate you, voice soft and gentle. "Are you...", he begins before he stops himself. Was he really just about to ask you if you were ok? It's so goddamn fucking obvious that you are not, so he settles for something else. "What happened, Nike?" You were still sitting there, legs pulled close to your body, head resting on your knees as you cried. He moved another step closer when you suddenly looked up at him as if only now you realised that someone was there. "Rooster?"

Your chest was heaving, your fingers nervously drumming on your kneecaps while you tried to focus on him, clearly struggling with the situation "Yeah. It's me. Shall I call someone?", he asked and as soon as he mentioned the call you began frantically shaking your head, reaching a trembling hand out to him to grab the wrist of the hand that was about to reach into his pocket. "No, please don't" He pulls his hand back out of his pocket and lifts it up in the air to signal surrender. "Ok, I'm not"

Bradley only knows you as IC. The woman for the impossible jobs and who you call when shit hit the fan and you need someone to fix it. A woman tough as nails and level-headed who always has a backup plan for the backup plan to make sure you got your people home safe and you were fucking brilliant at it. They named you after the goddess of victory for a reason. Whenever he was on a mission you were responsible for he felt a lot calmer and he knew he wasn't the only one. People trusted your competence and your judgement. They trusted you.

Hell, you were probably the only person on planet Earth to tell Admiral Simpson no if you thought something was a shitty idea and lived to tell the tale.

"Then say what you need Nike. Please?", he pleads feeling completely helpless. He has never seen you so utterly terrified and there is a feeling rising in his chest that makes him want to knock on the door of whoever left you so scared and very impolitely beat the shit out of them. You loosen the grip on his wrist and let your hand glide down his arm until yours is in his and he gives you a reassuring squeeze. Even with his fingers wrapped around yours, he can feel the trembling. When you finally answer him your voice is barely above a whisper. "A place to stay"

He didn't need to hear anything else. He just nodded and pulled you up by the hand that was still clinging to his own. Your feet were wobbly and the heels didn't make it any better. His eyes wandered over you, assessing whether there was any injury that he had to be mindful of before he let go of your hand for a second, the terror lighting back up in your eyes immediately. "It's ok, Nike. I am here", his voice is low and raspy as he places one hand on your back and bends down, placing the other under your knees to pick you up bridal style. He felt the way your body seemed to relax in his hold, face buried in his neck as he rested his head on yours before he murmured into your hair. "Let's get you home"

At a red light on the drive to his place he looks down where your hand is still holding his, his thumb gently petting the back of your hand while your head rested on his shoulder. In all the years of knowing you, he's never seen you so close to someone else. You usually prefer to keep people out of your personal space. It was something everyone on base respected and that makes him wonder.

You were so strong, so resourceful and intelligent. You had seen so much shit in your life and 9 times out of ten they called you in when it already hit the fan, so you were no stranger to working under immense pressure, the lives of people depending on the shots you were calling. How could someone bring you into a position where you would be so utterly terrified that it'd push you into a state that looked like a full-blown anxiety attack?

Considering the pretty dress, the heels and your by now smudged make-up it was likely you'd been out today and since bars and clubs are not your scene, he figures it must have been a restaurant. The thought that someone treated you so badly was infuriating him. You had dedicated your life to protecting people, making sure that they get back home to their families and loved ones unharmed. To treat someone like you bad enough to send you spiralling called for a grade-A asshole and a part of him hoped you'd tell him the name later. He would gladly pay that asshat a visit and he would bet, the rest of the dagger squad would happily tag along.

It's not much later when he puts the Bronco in park in front of his house, feeling the way you instantly stiffen next to him. "I'll go ahead and open the door", your grip around his hand tightens even more. You are holding on to him for dear life. Bradley Bradshaw was your lifeline right now and to be someone you trusted so much filled his heart with pride. He only wished he would have found out under different circumstances.

"I'll be right back, Nike", he hears you stifle a sob while you tremble. Whether it's the chill night air or your fear, he is not quite sure and so he leans to the side to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. "You tell me when you are ready", he adds, pulling you into an embrace as the two of you sit here in his car. He'd stay here with you for hours if you needed it. "Promise you'll come back" "I promise", he looks down at you and you nod. Letting go of his hand so he can get out of the car. Brad cannot remember any other time when he ran up the steps to his house this fast, unlocking the door and grabbing the quilt from his couch before he gets right back to you.

Seeing the way your eyes light up when you see him as he opens the car door makes his heart soar and ache at the same time. "Told you, I'd come for you Nike", he steps closer and gently places the blanket around your shoulders and when he picks you up again he feels how you instantly melt into his embrace. "I'll always come for you"

He tried to kick his front door closed as quietly as he could to not spook you even more and kept the lights off too as he made his way to his bedroom. From there he goes into the en-suite and sits you down on the counter. "Blanket on or off?" "Off" He nods, taking the colourful patchwork off of your shoulders and throwing it in the corner where he usually stores his dirty laundry. He could deal with that some other time. "I'll turn on my bedside lamp in the other room. Close your eyes and I’ll tell you when to look”, he was looking for any sign that you needed another moment but you nodded.

So he turns around and walks into his bedroom, turning on the lamp and throwing the next best piece of fabric over it to dim the light. It was enough to see something but not too much on your eyes that had probably gotten used to the darkness outside. "You can open your eyes", he says, turning back to look at you, eyes wandering over you for a moment to see if there was any injury that he had missed in the darkness outside the Hard Deck but he couldn't find anything. On his way back to you he rummaged around in his drawer, finding a Phillies jersey that could fit you if the dress wasn't comfortable enough for you to sleep in.

"I'm back", he announces himself and sees how your entire body relaxes, shoulders lowering and fingers no longer playing nervously with your ring. "I'm gonna take your shoes off first" He throws the jersey over his shoulder before he goes down on his knees, unlacing your oxford heels, every move slow and deliberate, before he places them down on the floor under the cabinet, to get them out of the way. He is looking up at you from his crouched position. He wants to seem as non-threatening as possible for what comes next.

"Do you want to keep your dress on or change into a shirt?", he asks, taking the jersey from his shoulder and showing it to you. He sees the way you are contemplating for a long while, brow furrowed and teeth sinking into your lower lip before you reach out for the worn-out material. It's soft and you are digging your fingers into the material and holding onto it the way you'd been holding onto his hand. Holding on for dear life.

"Want me to stay or wait outside?", he asks, not wanting to put you into a worse situation than you are already in. Damn, he wished you would have allowed him to get Phoenix or Penny, then this would have been not as bad by a long shot. You are quiet for a while and he wonders if you've drifted off again the way he found you in front of the Hard Deck, but then your gaze finds his and you take a deep breath. "Can you help with the zipper?" "Of course"

He gets up and watches you jump off the counter, your stance much more stable now that the heels are off. It's more the look he's used of you and it gives him the feeling that he's at least doing something right here. You turn around, his jersey still pressed to your chest, looking down at the washed-out red and white fabric as if it gave you some form of solace. Bradley takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours in the mirror to make sure you know what would come next and when you give him a nod he reaches out his hand, gently pulling down the zipper. Underneath the fabric is some sort of underdress all laced up with a pretty bow. Fuck. He would have never taken you for the corset-wearing type of gal.

You let the dress slide down to the floor before you pull his jersey over your head. He wants to help you to smooth it down your body but you shake your head and his hands are off immediately. "Sorry" "No...Can you untie...?" This time he's the one nodding, letting his hands glide under the fabric, pulling at the laces to undo the bow and then loosening them enough so you could let it glide down your body too and step out. The pile of fabric, tulle and boning is on the floor and he sees that you attempt to lean down, your hand on the counter for balance in order to pick your clothes up but he's faster. "Thank you" “I can put this on a hanger for you”, he nods over to where he usually stores his drying shirts. “There are loops...”, you start and he easily finds them, placing them on the hanger's hooks before he puts them on the clothes rail. As his eyes wander over the dress, he's wondering for a moment who you had met to doll up like this. "Anything else?"

He sees the way you are thinking, fighting with yourself "Whatever it is, if I can do it, I will" "Can you help with the stockings?" You don't meet his eye, probably embarrassed to make yourself vulnerable in front of a coworker like this but right now Rooster doubts that there is anything in this world he wouldn't do for you.

So for the second time tonight, Bradley Bradshaw lets himself fall onto his knees, feeling your hand on his shoulder for support while both hands are smoothing up your calf to your knee and under the jersey, feeling where the nylon ended so he could pull it down for you. His eyes are glued to the ground to make this at least a little less awkward for you. Once the fabric is gone, he switches to the other side and repeats the same movement before he looks up at you, the bunched-up material ending up under the sink next to your shoes.

"You good, Nike?", he asks, eyes searching your face for any sign that he's overstepped but all he finds is that gentle expression of fondness on your face, not quite a smile but considering the circumstances, Bradley would settle for this. You give him a small nod, hand moving from his shoulder closer to the crook of his neck, fingers lingering on his scars and Brad couldn't help but close his eyes at the gentle touch, willing his body to stay perfectly still to not destroy this moment of peace. Not for you and not for him. "Thank you Rooster", he's had your voice in his ear so often, assertive and commanding, but now your voice was gentle, as much a caress for him as your fingers. "For you, always", he looks up at you and for a moment he feels like the world stops turning and he wonders if given another chance at a different time, you would return to his home and allow him to prove to you that there were men out there who could treat you right.

When you finally pull back your hand he slowly moves up to stand before you, towering over you but you don't flinch. Bradley Bradshaw doesn't make you feel you need to and he cannot help but feel a pride rising in his chest that of all people, you chose him to put your trust in. "Now let's get you into bed", he steps to the side, letting you walk past him with his hand hovering over the small of your back. His hand wants to touch, but he doesn't want to push. Not after the night you had. That is until he realises that you are walking towards the door.

"Where do you think you are going?" "Couch" Fuck no. He would not make you sleep on that thing that was short and so worn out that it'd surely break your back. But what was even worse than the idea of you on his couch was the fact you believed that he would allow, let alone want that. Getting his hands back on you he picks you up bridal style and carries you back over to the bed. "You take the bed" "Rooster..." "No" There is a small smile playing on his lips. It reminds him of the first time he met you way back when.

You had just finished the mission briefing when Hangman suggested a change to the plans and your only reply was: "No" "What no?" "No", you looked Hangman straight in the eyes, pretty brow arched, and everyone in the room could feel the fury start to simmer in Hangman's veins at the way you're dismissing him and his points so easily. "No is a complete sentence, Lieutenant Seresin. Considering your reputation as base casanova I was hoping you'd understand the concept" That was the moment Rooster knew that he liked you.

Rooster was a navy guy and could sleep wherever, even on the hardwood floor if he had to, but you needed some proper rest. He lays you down on the bed as gently as possible and when he straightens his back he sees the expression on your face. It's such a wild swirl of emotions that are washing over your features, ever-changing like the ocean, that he doesn't know what to expect next, but it sure as hell wasn't this. "I'm scared of being alone"

He knows that this is far more than a simple statement. It is your way to ask for him to stay, to have him around for your comfort. It's not like he doesn't want to, but there is a part of him that wonders if this would be something you'd come to regret the next morning. He had always known you as someone who loved her personal space, avoiding even handshakes whenever you could. He had his hands all over you tonight and he didn't want to push his luck, but then he saw your pleading eyes and he smiled down at you. "I'll just get into some comfortable clothes and then I'm right back", he leans down and presses a soothing kiss to your forehead. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this soft around someone and yes, the circumstances were shitty at best, but there was a part of his heart that revelled in the gentleness of these moments. "Thank you, Bradley"

He has to stop himself for a moment, eyes wide with surprise as he looks at you. Never before have you used his first name. It was always Lieutenant, Bradshaw, Rooster or a combination of those three, usually depending on how pissed you were at him for fucking around with your meticulous mission plans. There was a flicker of fear that washed over your face as the realisation hit you what you just said but he reached out his hand, gently resting on your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. "No need to thank me, Nike. I am glad if I can help"

He allows himself another moment to enjoy the feeling of your soft skin against his before he pulls back and turns to grab some fresh clothes to sleep in and heads to the bathroom. His movements are hurried, almost frantic while he gets out of his clothes and ready for bed. All the while feeling a fear creeping up on him. He closed the door, to make sure to respect your boundaries but now he regretted it. It meant he couldn't check in on you, couldn't make sure that you were ok and not spiralling. Throwing his worn clothes over to the hamper without caring if he actually hit or not he just pulls on his sweat pants and opens the door, muscle shirt still in hand as he walks into the bedroom and pulls it over his head.

When he reached the bed where you had curled up already, he crouched down to be on eye level with you. “Tell me what you need from me", his voice is soft and quiet as he talks, pushing a strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear. He sees how you try to sink even deeper into the pillow as if you wanted to hide from him and that makes his heart ache. "Remember Nike. Whatever you need as long as I can make it happen, you'll get it" "Can you...", your voice is barely above a whisper and when he tries to meet your gaze you turn around and scoot over on the bed to make room for him. "I just really don't want to be alone"

You feel the way the mattress is dipping under his weight but you cannot bring yourself to turn around and look him in the eye. "You are not alone Nike", his voice is close to your ear and you can feel the way his breath is fanning out over your cheek and neck. And then you surprise him when you reach behind him and take his hand to place it over your waist, your fingers interlaced with his as your thumb drummed a nervous rhythm into the palm of his hand. "You are never alone"

Part 2

likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated as always

If you want to read more you can find my masterlist HERE

[dinogoofymutated]

Cable/GN!Reader Okay, so I'm on my Cable shit again. I found this WIP and a couple others for him and GODDD UGH I'm so fucking obsessed. Love a good danger room sparring scene so this one was just for fun ;) I'd consider it part of the tender moments series I have going on, but you don't need to read the other two to understand this one. TWS: Kinda spicy, no smut. Making out, sparring, Nate being an absolute goofball in his own way. Caught by the parents trope (sorry Scott). Short but cute.

    Cable’s gun was smoking by the time the two of you cleared the last level of the danger room, and you were having the time of your life. You were tired, sure. But there was just something about the danger room that gave you such an adrenaline rush, and you were sure it might just be that you don’t actually have to worry about dying in here compared to real fights (mostly, at least). 

    You were having fun, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have a plan to excite the day a little further.

    “Alright, Last level finished. We should clear out for the others.” Cable says to you, switching the safety on his gun as he sets it to the side, stretching his arms and shoulders.

    “Well, actually…” You don’t even have to finish the thought, Nathan raising an eyebrow at you as he stands up to his full height, crossing his arms at you.

    “Seriously? You requested extra time to spar?” He asks, and even though he’s frowning, you can tell he’s poking fun at you. You shrug at him, looking up at him with an excited smile on your face.

    “Yeah? Why not?” You ask, knowing full well that you had never sparred with Nathan before despite the many years the two of you have been a team. Nate lets out an amused hum, looming before you as he squares his shoulders.

    “You realize that I’m twice your size, right?” Nathan says, an amused smile on his face.

    “And? Come on Nate, It’s not like I haven't fought someone your size before.” You tell him, and it makes Nathan laugh.

    “You mean the times I had to step in to save your sorry ass?” He says, causing your smile to drop into a pout as you start to deny it, just for him to flood your mind with somewhat embarrassing memories of him doing just that.

    “I- would you cut that out!” You scold, slapping his arm just to immediately try to hide the fact that it hurt- the sting of the metal a sharp pain across your palm. He chuckles at the action anyway- but you’ve never been a quitter.

     “-It’s starting to sound like you’re just making excuses, old man.” You say instead, and his eyes narrow at the name. He tilts his head at you with a dry expression like he’s asking if you're absolutely sure you want to play this game today, only for you to stubbornly meet his gaze with a defiant smirk.

    He doesn't stop to reply, instead immediately rushing you.

    He catches you off-guard at first, taking the breath out of you for a moment before you’re quickly ducking under his arms. Escaping him before he can get a good grip on you. If there was one thing that always surprised you, it was how Nathan managed to be so quick despite his huge stature. It’s hard to go blow to blow with him due to the size difference between the two of you, but you manage to get more than a few good hits in. You don’t know how long the two of you spar for, but when Nate finally kicks your legs out from underneath you and pins you to the ground, you’re too tired to fully fight back.

    The two of you are heaving, grinning at each other as your gaze stays locked, and even though you’re outmatched, you’re still unwilling to give up. Nathan gives you a judging stare as he hears the thought, unable to understand why you’re just so stubborn. Sure, he technically had bested you- calling just about every move you made down to the T due to his abilities, but you found that the best way to take Nathan by surprise was to act on impulse. 

    “Don’t be stubborn. You know you’ve been-” Nate lets out a surprised noise as you cut him off with a kiss, dragging him down closer to you by his broad shoulders. He’s stiff and surprised for a moment before he relaxes into the kiss. You had originally planned for this to be a distraction, but lord knows that you should have realized you would quickly be too caught up in the feeling of him against you to remember or care about what you were doing before.

    Nathan nips at your lips as one of his hands slides under your back to support you, the other keeping himself propped up against the tile floors. You let him take charge in the kiss as your hands wander up and down his clothed chest, drifting down to yank his shirt out of his belt so that you can touch his bare abdomen instead. Nate sighs into the kiss, adjusting so that he can press his knee against your core, causing you to moan into the kiss as his hand begins to slide your shirt off and he begins to kiss down your jaw and neck, just barely beginning to ravish you completely when the door slides open with a swish.

    “WOAH!” A voice calls out from the doorway, one you recognize instantly. You and Nathan separate, both startled by the sudden intrusion. Scott quickly covers his sunglass-covered eyes he looks away, embarrassed. You swear that you and Nate had never separated so quickly before, trying to make yourselves proper as you stand up and turn to face his young father.

    “I was- Uh, I was going to tell you two that dinner was ready.” Scott stutters out, still covering his eyes.

    “Oh! I didn't notice how long we had been in here!” You ramble, nervously fidgeting with your hands as you pretend to check the time. “Thank you for coming to get us.” You continue nervously, knowing for a fact you were only digging your hole deeper. Maybe once you’re done digging you can lie down inside of it and die from this horrible embarrassment.

    Thank him or apologize or something! You think pointedly at Cable while you're standing there, and all he does is give you an incredulous look.

    I’m not doing -either-. He interrupted us! Nathan tells you, returning the thought without so much as speaking a word.

    That’s because we were about to- You can't bring yourself to finish the sentence, blushing intensely at the images you think of as you picture exactly what you wanted him to do to you on the danger room floor. You see a light blush rise to Nathan’s cheeks too, despite his ever-grumpy expression. -WAIT!- Not the point! It- Damnit! PUBLIC space, Nathan! Public space!!! Damn your stupid intrusive thoughts! You know you’re completely flustered and embarrassed, unable to actually believe that you were just walked in on by Nathan’s young father.

    Scott finally turns to leave for a moment, and you feel the tension in your shoulders let up a bit when the doors slide shut, only for your anxiety to spark immediately after when the doors swoosh open again, Scott still standing there with his eyes covered.

    “I, uh, since you’re both grown adults and everything, I assume I don’t need to give you the talk, Right?” Scott asks, and if you could shrivel up and die right at this moment in time, you would gladly do so.

    “Oh my god.” You sat, covering your red face.

    “No, Dad! Could you just leave already?!” Nathan finally yells, and for a moment you wonder if all this embarrassment you’re feeling is coming from him, too. Scott nods vigorously, letting out a quiet, “Yeah, Yup.” as he quickly and finally leaves the room. 

    Both of you let out a sigh of relief when he’s gone, still embarrassed to the very core at bening caught like that.

    “Jesus Christ, we look like a couple of horny teens or something, getting caught like that.” You mumble after a long pause, trying to shake it off. You hear Nathan snort from next to you, and you give him a confused look. 

    “Who’s we?” He asks. You roll your eyes and he lets out an amused huff at the sight.

    I’ve seen every corner of your mind, Sweetpea. You can’t hide your thoughts from me. Nate tells you, flashing the images of some of your dirtiest and most inappropriate thoughts about him in your mind. You were sure there was so much blood rushing to your face at this point that it was about to explode.

    “Would you, please, stop that!”

[foxs0x]

I am literally a graphic designer for my career but I couldn't be fucked editing a template, so here's how my art has evolved in the last 12 months!

January - @meanbossart 's Dark Urge

This was the first digital thing I'd done in over a year at this point. I took an extended break from art because my (old) job was ruining my mental health. (Which is why I quit it :D !) And his Drow character is really well thought out and very unique so I had to draw him. (His art is also very inspiring to me so check out his page!)

February - was still in my Baldur's Gate kick and loved that lizard (still do) and it was also my first time doing environmental art. I couldn't figure out how to do the "mood" I was imagining so I had to look up famous movie shots that were noir, dark and moody to figure out what the heck to do.

MORE UNDER THE CUT 👇😁

March - My D&D character Istdrin, a Drow sorcerer who was sexually attracted to spiders... And got eaten by spiders. (I had to make a new character after this 🤣) Rest in peace you sick fuck

April - Astarion, my fave BG3 companion (besides Wyll & Shadow heart!) I wanted to design a fancy suit for him and a modern haircut.

May - my first drawing of my V (Vicentije.) I had just bought Phantom Liberty at this point and was also trying to figure out how to draw him and how I imagine he would look. Alas I am a console player so I can't mod his tattoos in or his face sculpt etc. (but in a few months I'll finally have saved enough money for a PC haha!) he's gone through a few changes design-wise and I'm still tweaking him tbh

June - first art for my fanfic End Transmission

I just finished Phantom Liberty and had this idea brewing in my head. I'd also started writing my fic too! I'm not really happy with V:s face here and I've also since made more changes to his design, so he doesn't even have these tattoos anymore lol! (Except for the 13 on his forehead because he is unlucky)

July (??) (nothing)

August - Johnny Silverhand

I actually did this right before I went to America this year. I was drawing this at the Sydney airport and painting it on the flight to Los Angeles. I am still really happy with how this turned out.

September - I did this in my downtime while in the states. I started drawing the frames in my first week in America (while I was at my aunties house in Los Angeles) and finished it during hurricane Francine in New Orleans!

October - Johnny Silverhand again! I tried drawing a few comic panels of my fanfic End Transmission when I got back to Australia.

November - original character I'm working on. He's an ugly vampire who was an artist in his human life and made very beautiful things.

December (??)

Nothing really for December yet lol! Just lots of wips and ideas I'm still working on

Overall my art has made a HUGE improvement this year. I've been focusing on better quality lines the last two months but all year I've been working on more dynamic poses and colouring!!

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 3

Hello! If you haven't seen it yet, I've got a set schedule for what story posts on what days now (as seen here) and this one as well as Well Met By Moonlight, Batshit Soulmates, and Never Hold Back Your Step... will still be posting just on rotation until I can finish some of my WIPs. (I may be stretching myself a bit thin having six going at the same time.)

In this one we have the concert. Eddie stumbles on something big and doesn't know how to deal with it all. And Uncle Wayne is bestest as always.

@emly03 @redfreckledwolf @itsall-taken @rozzieroos @mira-jadeamethyst

Part 1 Part 2

****

The day of the concert dawned abhorrently cheerful and bright. Not a cloud in the sky or any accidents that would prevent Eddie from having to take Dustin to this event. He wouldn’t deign to call it a concert. He had heard the album and seen their posters, but he refused to wander over to YouTube and watch videos of their concerts, interviews, their music videos.

He didn’t want to be even more disappointed that they were all flash and no substance then he was sure he was going to be for the next two hours.

Dustin rolled his eyes when Eddie parked in the huge concert parking lot.

“You’re just salty because I like them as much as I like Corroded Coffin,” he huffed getting out the car. “You have to concede that Abaddon’s vocals are killer.”

Eddie scoffed. “Do not. I haven’t heard them live. Way too many artists use autotune too much these days.”

“You sound like that meme,” he sneered, “‘Old Man Yells at Cloud’.”

Eddie swatted at him playfully. “Am not.” Dustin raised his eyebrow skeptically and he threw his arms in the air. “I’m not. I am a very serious musician, Dusty. The last thing metal needs is some band that can’t write or even play their own instruments. This isn’t pop.”

“You are such an asshole,” he said and turned toward the entrance, leaving Eddie to jog to catch up with him.

Eddie sighed and put his arm around Dustin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I am being an asshole. I turned into the person I swore I would never be. Those shit for brains critics that hated Corroded Coffin when we first got on the scene. And that was wrong of me.”

Dustin sighed, too. “I just want you to like them too. They are so good if you’d just give them a chance.”

Eddie breathed out through his nose. “Yeah. I can at least give them that.”

They got to their seats and Eddie was a little impressed at Claudia Henderson’s Ticket Master foo. They weren’t front row, but they were only a couple of rows back so you could actually see the stage without having to strain their necks and smack dab in the center of the row.

Dustin would have the best time. And now it was up to Eddie not ruin it for the kid. Because yes, he was still a kid as far as Eddie was concerned. Twenty-one was so fucking young. That was how old most of the band was when they got their record deal, after all. They weren’t prepared for what came next, that’s for sure.

They got settled into their seats and Eddie watched as the rest of the crowd shuffled in. They were all about Dustin’s age with very few exceptions in either direction.

There seemed to be a color theme going on with the girls in the audience though. They were grouped in clumps of red, black, blue, or white. Which made sense if each band member stuck to a certain color palette.

Well he was about to find out, he supposed.

The lights dimmed. The crowd quieted down. The spotlight lit up the drumkit first. And Eddie knew that Gareth would be drooling over it. It was all black with black metal fittings. The kit seemed to collect light almost like a blackhole.

Then from the ceiling, a man dressed all in black being lowered onto the stage with large black raven wings on his back. He wore a black hooded coat over what, Eddie couldn’t tell. It was all black. The shirt, the pants, the boots. Even his mask was all black with even the eyes appearing closed. His feet touched the ground and the crowd went wild.

“Azrael!” the announcer called out.

Azrael settled on the throne and picked up black drum sticks.He counted time above his head and played a wicked solo to the adoring crowd’s absolute delight.

Dustin jumped up and down, screaming.

The spotlight moved to the right side of stage and the next band member descended from the ceiling. Large bat wings adorned his back and he was dressed in red leather fetish gear. Complete with tight leather pants that looked painted on and a matching harness highlighting his bare chest, peeking out from the red leather hooded coat.

His guitar was fucking gorgeous, though. A Warlock, much like Eddie’s own. It was custom painted red with black flames licking up the neck.

Eddie rolled his eyes, but it seemed he was the only one who thought the whole thing was over the top judging from the screams from the girls in the audience.

He didn’t just land gently on the stage like the drummer did, oh no. He fucking stomped onto the stage with a howl.

His wings, like the drummer’s ascended back into the rafters as the announcer shouted, “Asmodeus!”

And then Eddie really did roll his eyes. The demon of lust. Of course he was.

But seconds later Eddie’s jaw dropped to the floor as the man wailed on his guitar driving the crowd further into the frenzy.

Once he finished his solo the crowd quieted again and he could see why. Because just then, descending on gossamer wings that shimmered like starlight, was their bassist.

Everything about him was midnight blue and shimmering like the night. His mask was the face of the moon. He had his own hooded coat, but it was like the night sky, with some kind of crystal or gem sewn in to make the coat glimmer like stars.

His bass was something that Brian would have sold his own mother for and they were as thick as thieves. Eddie didn’t know much about basses considering his sweetheart was an electric guitar, but he could tell it wasn’t expensive but was perfect for his style. A style he showed off with gusto to the audience’s obvious delight.

“Astraeus!” the announcer cried.

Eddie decided that this one was his favorite. It played up the whole mysterious thing without the over the top flash of the guitarist or the sheer void of the drummer.

The audience hushed as the three members of the band began to play what was clearly the lead singer’s entrance music.

And holy fuck was Eddie screwed. This man was descending like a fucking angel sent from God, Jesus pose and all.

He was all in white with an opaque lace mask that had his mouth and chin cut out for him to sing. That surprised Eddie somewhat. He figured that the guy would have his whole face covered like everyone else in the band and that he could lip sync.

But nope. Apparently no one in this band did anything by halves.

The lead singer was wearing a sheer mesh crop top under the hooded floor length coats the whole band was wearing. Only his was white with a silk powder blue lining.

Eddie winced in sympathy. They must get boiling under the lights with those things on.

A few feet from the stage floor there was an explosive pop! And the feathers from his wings flew out into the crowd who was now screaming as if their life depended on the sheer volume coming out them. He looked over at Dustin who was no different.

When Eddie could see the stage again, this angel’s wings were now skeletal and gothic.

He landed in front of microphone whose stand had been decorated with a scarf in each of of the band members’ signature colors.

“Abbadon!” the announcer yelled for the final time.

And Eddie was in love. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Dustin must have seen his expression because he was suddenly tugging on Eddie’s arm and screaming, “I told you!!”

“Indy!” Abbadon growled, grabbing the mic. “Thank you so much for having us! Let’s get this started.”

Then he began to sing and yeah, Eddie knew that the guy had charm, but this was a whole new level of epic. He was enthralled.

He didn’t utter a fucking word for several songs. But then it happened. Eddie couldn’t believe it. He hurried to snap a picture to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

But there it was it in living color. He turned to Dustin to see if he saw it too, but the kid was too busy screaming and jumping up and down.

Eddie’s jaw fell.

That couldn’t be right, couldn’t it? That Dustin didn’t know? Eddie looked back up on stage and a lot of the puzzle pieces started slotting in place. His heart sank a little.

He shook his head to clear it of dark thoughts. He didn’t know the reason for any of this and leaping to conclusions would only get a shit ton of people hurt. Especially the boy next to him.

Eddie let the music wash over him. Let the magic of metal soothe his soul. Soon he was jumping up and down and headbanging with the rest of the crowd. Right hand flashing the devil’s horns, left hand out to steady himself he let himself enjoy the band’s stage presence.

****

To say that Eddie’s mind was fucking blown would be an understatement. He pestered Dustin all the way home with rapid fire questions. Where did the band tour last time? What was their schedule this time? Was it a six month tour or an eighteen month tour last time?

Dustin answered each question with growing excitement, thinking that Eddie had finally grown to love this band as much as he had.

Eddie on the other hand felt a growing sense of dread. Well... maybe dread was the wrong word. It was certainly a sinking feeling. One he really had to exam closely.

At least he could honestly say that he fell in love with the music before he found out his little secret.

And fuck what a secret it was.

He dropped Dustin off at home and drove out to the ranch that he had gifted to Wayne when Corroded Coffin first made it big. It was a beautiful, sprawled out home surrounded by acres of land and Eddie loved it even more than Wayne did.

Eddie stumbled through the door and was surprised to see Wayne drinking hot chocolate and reading a sports magazine in his expensive recliner. And yet, at the same time, not really that surprised.

“You do realize I’m no longer that fucked up kid with anger issues,” Eddie huffed on his way to the kitchen to grab a beer, “that were almost as bad as the troubles with the law, right?”

Wayne chuckled. “Maybe so. But you’re still my boy and I’ll keep worrying about you until the day I die.”

Eddie popped open the can of beer and sat down on the sofa. He leaned his head back on the back cushion with a heavy sigh.

Wayne raised an eyebrow. “What’s stewing around in that head of yours?”

Eddie slowly raised his head. “What would you do if you accidentally found out something about a friend that they were keeping from everyone they knew?”

Wayne set down his magazine. “That would depend on the secret. Is it hurting anyone?”

“Is what hurting anyone?” Eddie asked. “The secret?” Wayne nodded and Eddie frowned, really thinking about it.

“Maybe some feelings,” he said after a moment. “But it’s not dangerous like they committed a crime or anything. It’s not even about their sexuality.”

Wayne hummed thoughtfully. “And is it a big secret or a little one?”

Again Eddie was forced to think hard about what that meant. “I guess it depends on the person, but in my eyes it’s pretty big.”

The elder Munson nodded. “Do you feel hurt by this secret?”

“Yeah, yeah. I guess I do.” He bowed his head and let out a shuddering breath.

“Is there a reason you think he wouldn’t have told you?” Wayne pressed.

“Of course no–” Eddie stopped as his brain caught up to his mouth. “Shit.”

Wayne raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Eddie admitted shyly. “There’s a pretty good reason why he wouldn’t have told me. And now I feel like the shit friend.”

Wayne stood up and pulled Eddie into a big hug. “Maybe so, but you have the time to course correct and show this friend that you are worthy of his secret.”

Eddie nodded. “Thanks, Uncle Wayne,” he mumbled into Wayne’s neck.

“I’m just glad I could help.”

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @y4r3luv @cryptid-system @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

[ladysomething]

Do you think we can get a snippet of WYGIG or another WIP from you as a compensation for Ferrari not winning the WCC with a double podium? 😭

wygig snippet in another post, here is a fun little pwp that I'm soooo close to finishing!

Charles’ sim is good, but not as good as Max’s. 

That’s pretty much entirely because Charles doesn’t really care. He’s happy to drive on the sim sometimes, to refresh his memory and keep himself sharp, but it doesn’t bring him endless happiness like it does for Max. Spending hours staring at his computer screen is his definition of Hell. 

But this is about sex. It’s about beating Max. 

It’s serious. 

So on top of the €2000 entry fee, Charles shells out even more for a brand new rig. He gets a chair—one better than Max’s, because it’s actually got an incline like their actual cockpits, and he gets a couple more screens. He doesn’t actually need a wheel and pedal, because the ones he has are pretty good. 

When it all arrives, Max’s eyes almost bug out of his head. 

“What the fuck?” he asks, eyeing the huge box with the chair. 

Charles didn’t really realise it was going to come in pieces, but he has absolutely no intention of putting it together himself. He’s 100% confident he’ll be able to get Max to do it for him. 

“I thought it would be nice for me to embrace your hobbies,” Charles says placidly. “You know. See what the fuss is about.” 

Max’s shock softens into clear delight, and he smiles widely. “You’ll love it,” he promises. 

He stands by the door, watching Charles cut open the box. As Charles gets all the pieces out, he plays up his helplessness, dropping a particularly heavy piece, pretending he can’t find the instructions, hopelessly trying to stick together two pieces that clearly don’t go together. 

“You need some help, baby?” Max asks kindly, pushing off from the door. 

“Yeah,” Charles says, like he had no idea what he was doing and is relieved a big, strong man is coming to help him. “Thank you.” 

Max kneels beside him, genuinely happy to help, so Charles leans over to give him a kiss. 

“I’ll make lunch,” Charles says, clapping Max on the shoulder and smiling widely. 

Then leaves Max to it. 

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday 💗💜💙(7x04 coda?)

tagged by @tizniz 💖

hi! how are we feeling after 7x04 bc I feel like I'm dreaming and I've been crying the whole day today, my bi heart is sooooo happy😭😭 I wasn't gonna start new wips until i finish the cheating fic, but I opened a new doc and things happened lol - idk what this is, where I'm going with this, or if I'm even gonna continue, I just wanted to peek into Buck's head for a moment haha

___

Oh. Oh. Oooh. So that’s- that’s what it was. Huh.

That’s the first thing going through his mind as Tommy kisses him. It’s like- it’s like a piece of the puzzle finally sliding into place, after years and years of searching, looking for something to fill that space with, that feeling of something being missing. It’s almost weird, really, how easy it feels, how he’s more relieved than freaked out. Because this- oh, this makes so much sense. He’s into guys. He’s been into guys. And right now, at this moment, he’s into Tommy. 

Holy shit, he’s into Tommy.

Buck’s mind has been a whirlwind of chaos and confusion and frustration for days, but now, when Tommy kisses him, it all silences. Just to start anew as they part, butterflies in his stomach so intense he feels like he might float, as a slow smile spreads across his face when Tommy pulls away. 

This is the part of himself he’s been looking for, he’s been denying himself, he’s been silencing for so long. He doesn’t know why now, why Tommy, what it all means and where it’s leading. But he knows that now he feels almost... complete, feels like himself, feels at ease. Feels like Buck.

He feels giddy when Tommy asks him out, and finds that as soon as the door closes behind him, Buck already can’t wait to see him again. Jesus, he has a crush. He’s a grown man in his thirties, just now finding out he’s into guys, and he has a goddamn crush on a guy, and that’s why he’s been acting like a teenager. It makes so much sense now, and Buck feels- well, he’s embarrassed because of his idiotic behavior, and guilty for maiming his best friend, but most of all he just feels relieved. Because he knows now, knows why he’s been so bent out of shape about this whole situation, and can put a name to those feelings.  It’s like a huge weight has been lifted off his chest, that he didn’t even know was there.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @thebravebitch @canonbibuck @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @bidisasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck

[alllgator-blood]

Do you like ships? 👉👈

Oh god uhhhh I've made my thoughts on narilamb and leshycat known (I don't hate them, the art can be really cute/funny I just see those ships more often than any other cotl art....) and the other ships just aren't interesting to me personally. Forneus and heket have super cute art from what I've seen but that's just because I'm biased as a Large Butch Individual. I'm in this fandom for the family dynamics personally so I'm not here for romance stuff.

BUT I DO HAVE ONE SHIP. I talked about it in like april?? I think?? I didn't say who it was but I have multiple WIPs of those two and it was a huge part of my au comic that got so long I'll never end up finishing it. I'm not sure these two characters have ever even been drawn together one-on-one, let alone shipped so I'm curious to see if anyone can figure it out.

Some of the traits they both canonically share are: abnormal eye contact compared to the other characters. Powerful enough to disassemble you instantly but chill enough to hold back. The only words/phrases they can't define are probably "brevity" and "shutting the fuck up". One of em is a bishop but that much was obvious. ONE OF THEM HAS MENTIONED THE OTHER IN-GAME...

If anyone guesses it I'll try to finish some of the art I've made of them cause I never thought I'd post it

[lemonsrosesandlavender]

19 Sentences - Rolan in Rut

Thank you to everyone who voted in my WIP game poll! Here's the final batch of sentences, one for every person who voted for "Submissive Rolan in Rut"! I've really got back into writing this one so... we'll see how soon I can get it finished. In the mean time, enjoy!

He only winces, his dark eyelashes blurring together with tears. The lines beside his eyes crease deeper, his lips arching higher - but he can’t stop another tear from sliding down his cheek, and you move to intercept it.

‘Please,’ you murmur, brushing it away. Rolan stares ahead, pretending not to feel your touch, but his sharp tooth eases a little where it digs into his lip. ‘I’ll admit, I don’t understand what makes this so different from any other time we have sex.’

‘There is…a knot, at the base, that locks the two together. Tiefling anatomy is complementary. You… would almost certainly find it uncomfortable.’

‘I like being full, Rolan. And even if I can’t fit it, I can help in other ways.’

‘You don’t understand,’ he chokes out bitterly. ‘It is more than filling, it is huge. And… rut requires more stimulation than normal, especially when - nngghh - I have come - too many times already -’

Squirming punctuates his words, his voice growing breathy. The situation is serious, you understand that, and you’re trying to stay focused but - it’s unbearably obvious that he’s aroused, more so by the second, and your cunt is growing hot and swollen in reply, demanding that you stop thinking and just take him.

‘What are you thinking?’ Rolan gasps suddenly, and you realise you’re half-growling, half-sneering with lust, your lips curled back at the sight of the desperate man beside you. Beneath you, you want him beneath you - fuck - 

Wiping your mouth, you pull yourself together.

[joshusten]

kiss and make up

In which Honey wants a makeover and Guy gladly helps. (lots of kisses, fluff, makeover time!!!)

2.7k+ words [ao3 will be added when im not lazy lmao] [masterlist]

[CW and notes: typical guy innuendoes, honey doesn't know how to do makeup and they get a lil insecure about that fact, that being said i'm not really a makeup expert too LMAO, theres also lots of grammar mistakes probably ;--; and since like, makeup styles and visuals vary between people i tried to make it as vague and gender neutral as possible but idk if i really achieved that so keep that in mind and please let me know if i should change some wordings etc. ! oh and lmk about typos too hehe tysm!]

thank you so so much to my dearest friend @slushiepizza !! this wip is literally a year long and they've been a HUGE HUGE (x1000) help to me finishing (and convincing to post) this fic!! this fic's also inspired by fanart they made before and this yt short from that one anthony padilla interview. also yes theres a lil 2024 hbs guy AAAND jin (his gamer friend in that second hoodie video i think) reference too lmao HAHAHAH hope you enjoy!! :D "Ugh! Why can't I fucking–" 

“Piece of—!”

“Fuck!”

Another frustrated groan cuts Honey off. For the past few minutes, Guy had been hearing his partner's muffled frustrations from their room all the way to their humble kitchenette and he was seriously starting to get worried about what could possibly be troubling their usually well-composed lover.

He quickly turned off the stove, wiping his hands on the piercingly hot pink apron with the words "Please Do More than Kiss the Chef" embroidered on its body (a joke gift, courtesy of Rosa being his Secret Santa last year, that Guy legitimately used in his every day, much to his friend’s amusement). Fortunately, the lunch he was making was done by the time he decided to check up on them (and, really, it was just a simple one-pot pasta recipe he stumbled on Tiktok at 3 AM.)

Guy haphazardly hung the apron by a chair nearby—future Guy can worry about all of the mess later—and made his way to the hallway that led to their small shared bedroom.

He gently knocked a little melody on the door,  announcing his presence through the painted wood. "Honey?”

A thump was heard, as if something suddenly dropped out of surprise, followed by a faint “Shit!”

The man knocked again, this time with a furrowed brow.

“Honey dearest? Lover of mine? Is someone botherin’ you? Need to kick someone’s ass?” He joked, clearing his throat afterward for a more sincere tone. “But for real, do you need any help there, baby?”

The silence that followed almost tempted Guy to ask again before a loud sigh came from the other side.

"Yeah…It's unlocked. You can come in..." 

They almost sounded embarrassed. A little shy even. The man couldn’t help but grin at how comfortable Honey had become showing him their more vulnerable sides throughout their time together. 

Guy opened the door slowly to reveal their usual semi-tidy bedroom save for the mess that seemed only to be contained around Honey, whose head was currently hanging low in shame. Alarms went off in his mind once he processed the potential severity of the situation with how distressed his partner looked.

He rushed to where Honey sat, in front of the vanity where a variety of make-up products were strewn across the dark oak wood. Upon closer inspection, he could see that—

Oh. Uhm. This was interesting.

His partner’s frustrated face seemed to be an amalgamation of different cosmetics that looked like they were hastily smeared on and rubbed off multiple times. 

Patchy foundation, unblended blush, shaky eyeliner. 

Guy can practically feel the heat coming off their tinted face, furrowing their brows and averting their glare to the side.

“Look, I know what this looks like but—" Honey was never able to finish their sentence as a very, very poor attempt of stifled giggles reached their burning ears. Oh my god, he's never gonna let them live this down, is he? 

“Guy.”

“Wh-whaaaat? N-no, you look f-fine Honey! Pfft–” A snort interrupted the man's words of reassurance. 

“Guy, stop laughing, you asshole!” They groaned, sending a flurry of light slaps to Guy's shoulders, snickering along to indicate that they weren’t actually mad at him because, yeah, they did look a little silly (and his laugh was too damn cute to distract them from their predicament) but that still didn't make them any less self-conscious about it.

“I-I–OW! I don’t know what you mean, baby!”

Honey crossed their arms and made a face, looking away in a pretend-but-not-really sulk. 

“Fine, so I’m horrible at makeup ha-ha! Pack it up, jackass!”

To that, their boyfriend's laughter slowly died down, leaving him with a soft, sympathetic smile. 

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! C’mere,” He apologized, beckoning them to come closer to which Honey begrudgingly complied. His smile brightened, pressing numerous quick kisses against his partner’s grumpy face, pulling away with a string of giddy giggles.

“Ew, I got your foundation on my lips.”

“Serves you right,” Honey huffed, unable to hold in a chuckle as they saw the faint splotches of the coating in their skin color on their boyfriend’s stubbled chin and pouted lips.

“So, uh, mind telling me what actually happened over here? ‘Cuz, Honey, you’re as pretty as a painting…given that it’s a painting my baby cousin can do, which I’m assuming isn’t what you were going for?” Guy asked, his full attention to his partner's make-up Frankenstein of a face.

The embarrassment rushed back to Honey tenfold but they masked it up with a shrug that looked timid regardless. “I dunno…there’s this event in the evening with my company and I just…wanted to try something new with my look. I-it's stupid. I started a lot earlier because I knew I’d need some time to learn but…I just can't get the hang of it!”

Sure, they know make-up isn’t all that easy to do but managing to tremendously fuck up something as seemingly simple as putting color on their face despite the amount of tutorials they’ve watched was just embarrassing to admit (especially to someone they’ve grown to care about what he thinks of them). They braced themself for more mocking laughter yet the teasing never came. Instead, they heard an excited gasp.

"Oh, I can do your makeup for you!"

…What?

"Uhm– I– You–?"

Guy picked up the wiped near Honey and started pulling a few from the already-opened plastic pack. The subtle clean scent of aloe vera wafted into their nostrils.

"I can do your make-up!" The man repeated happily, oblivious to Honey's quizzical stare. He gently grabbed their chin with one hand while the other one held the cleanser-soaked napkin inches closer to their cheek before he stopped and gazed into their eyes, "Can I?"

"Uh…Y-yeah. Sure." They felt their breath hitch at the sudden intimacy of the distance between them.

Guy beamed at that and started removing the product on their face but the confused expression never leaves it. He discarded the used wipes in the trash can under the vanity table and started sifting through their shopping spree's worth of cosmetics.

“I suggest you buy micellar water or cleansers instead of those wipes. They do a better job!”

“Uh, Guy?”

"Oh, you got this one! Yeah, I really like their formula, it doesn't feel too heavy on the skin. Well at least on my skin. Let me know if it doesn't feel comfy and–"

"Guy…"

"Woah, you got your shade just right with this one! Ah, but I think this brand oxidizes so the color might change–"

"Guy."

"Ooh, I haven’t seen this product before! Is this newly released or—”

"Guy!” Honey exclaimed, finally capturing their boyfriend’s ever-so-dwindling attention. “Babe. How…I mean, not that I'm doubting your skills or anything but–" 

By this time, Guy had already cleaned all of the makeup off from his partner and was now left with the face he was more used to seeing (and admiring).

"It's just…I've never seen you wear makeup. At all. Besides Halloween, I guess?”

The man simply grinned at that and continued rummaging through the cases of eyeshadows and face creams. “If you must know, a performer was moi!” 

“Oh, trust me, I'm familiar with your theatrics.”

“I’m just gonna pretend you meant that as a compliment,” He huffed, averting his gaze to the products that lay between them both. “Anyway, I did a lot of shows back then and, well, with constantly getting your face painted on, you pick up a few techniques, y'know? I even get to do my own makeup!”

The click and clatter of glass and plastic fills the room as Guy carefully examines each container with the same look he gets when he proofreads a revision of a script he made. It was almost weird to see how his eyes scanned the text of the labels and his habit of biting the inside of his cheek while focusing on the context other than the familiar blue light of his laptop.

“Got interested, asked my friends, then watched a few vids. I got to…’secretly borrow’ some of my mom's makeup to test out some looks.” The image of a teenage Guy experimenting with makeup much like what Honey was doing a while ago tickled their mind.

“But eh, college got in the way and I never really got the time to play around with some flashier makeup styles between delivering greasy ass pizzas and delivering exquisite screenplays that excite the mind and bewitch the heart.”

He held up a circular blush pot near a dumbfounded Honey. His eyes squinted with focus until he finally determined the blush matched their skin tone just fine. 

“Anyway, let's get some moisturizer to prep that cute face of yours!”

After Honey described what they wanted for their look, scrolled through Pinterest to get some inspiration, and watched a few more tutorials, the pair eventually got started with the process.

Guy put on an even layer of foundation, and concealer that he tried his best to match their skin, added contour, eyeshadow and blush according to the style they had requested, and painstakingly drew on some eyeliner (“Because everybody looks hotter with eyeliner!”). He had even let them try a few brush strokes of their own to get the feel of it.

Honey, on the other hand, felt like they were going to explode from the attention they’d been getting from him. Granted, they were no stranger to his affections yet something about the way he was so close—to the point where they could feel the warmth emanating from him, where the way his breath ghosts their neck made them tremble—it was a whole different experience.

The man added some finishing details to Honey’s face before announcing the final step: lipstick.

“Hm, let’s try these colors. Maybe it’s more your style.” He brought up a few plastic tubes with one hand closer to them, awaiting their input on his selection.

“Have you tried these brands before?”

“Uh, not really…I don’t think I’ve actually tried the liquid ones or the twisty ones. What’s the difference anyway? They both color your lips, right?”

Guy laughed at the sheer creativity of the nickname his partner had appointed to the lipsticks in his hand.  “Ah well, I’m glad you asked, Honey!”

He twisted up the matte tube and swiped the creamy formula on his lips, smacking them to spread it evenly. The color on his lips only emphasizes the smirk it formed, amused by the hitched breath Honey lets out as he gently cradled their face and brought it closer to his.

“Solid lipstick doesn't last long. See?” 

He demonstrated this by pressing his mouth on the back of his hand a few times to reveal pigmented marks against his skin. The man even gestured toward his face to show that the tint of the lipstick had significantly faded.

“Huh.” 

Honey was definitely studying his lips, alright. It formed into the same old smile they never got tired of, this time with its edges slightly smeared from what he had done moments ago. They were so entranced that they didn't even notice Guy reaching for a clear tube, this time twisting it to reveal an application wand with a different hue of the lipstick before, quickly applying it on his lightened lips.

“While liquid lipstick—” His quip breaks Honey’s lip-centered daydream and with a sudden movement, Guy pressed his colored lips gently against Honey's bare ones,  the latter letting out a quiet squeak that made the man eagerly press down harder. He slowly pulled away, close enough to have just an inch of space between their mouths.

“...Is kissproof!” 

He was right. Honey could see that Guy’s lips still looked the same with no sign of smudging or transferring of the product. Not that the efficiency of the lipstick is what’s on the forefront of their mind at the moment.

“O-oh,” their voice cracked rather pathetically but Guy only let out a laugh, holding up the twisted-up tube of the lipstick he first used near the other’s visibly quivering lips.

“Hm…now that I see it, I think the shade on the ‘twisty one’ fits your look better. Let’s use that!” 

A wide-eyed Honey simply nodded in response.

—

“...And then here’s your make-up bag, just in case you need to retouch! So, what do ya think? Stunning? Iconic? Gorgeous? Oh, oh! Pulchritudinous? Ehh?”

Honey turned to the vanity mirror for the first time in a while and gaped in the reflection. 

“It's…” They raised their hand, opting to feel their face before deciding otherwise as they realized it might waste all of their boyfriend’s hard work. Honey racked in every corner of their brain for a word to encompass the awe they’re in right now, wishing they had even just a fraction of Guy’s mind to express it in words. 

But for now, they’re just Honey—who isn’t particularly known for their expertise in saying what they mean and they settle for the answer they weren’t satisfied with at all.

“It’s pretty.” 

The person staring back at them looked so different yet still the same. It felt like looking at themselves from a different perspective. Pretty was hardly an adequate descriptor for what they were looking at but it’s all they could think about in their dazed state (the way their partner beamed at their compliment told them he didn’t mind).

“You’re the pretty one, hon! With or without make-up! I mean, c’mon! Look at that smile!”

That earned a wider smile from Honey with Guy giddily matching it.

“I’d have to thank my handsome make-up artist for that. He did such a wonderful job after all.” 

“How do you suppose you’ll do that then, Honey?”

This time, Honey was the one to surprise their lover with a kiss.

BONUS SCENE:

“Do you really have to go?” Guy whined though he already knew the answer. That didn’t stop him from snaking a hand around Honey’s waist, who was just leaving through the door of their shared apartment.

“Yes, Guy. I really have to, especially with how long you’ve been painting on my face, there’s a possibility I might get late,” they explained, giving him an apologetic look despite the scolding tone of their voice. 

“Well, who can blame me when my Honey’s looking absolutely ravishing,” He pulls Honey closer with his usual goofy smile, though this time they notice a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Besides, just a while ago it seems like you wanted your face to be painted with something else, ehh—mmph!”

Honey had cut him off by pressing their lips tenderly against his once more, eliciting a relaxed sigh from him. They pulled back to see a pouty expression plastered on Guy’s face.

“Fuck. Y-you’re enjoying that stunt way too much, it’s not fair!”

“I wasn’t the one that started it!”

“Fine, whatever!” Guy lamented loudly, complete with his hand clutching overdramatically on his chest. “Be like that, go to your party, then! See if I care!”

Honey just rolled their eyes with a smile. “One last goodbye kiss?” 

And how could he ever say no to that?

So after a quick peck on Guy’s cheek (maybe two or three more), Honey finally made their way out the door, leaving him a bit lightheaded than before. 

Despite his lovesick state, he was quick to make his way over to the couch and started setting up his game console connected to their T.V. Since his Honey would be out for most of the night, he decided to invite a friend over to play video games and kill some time.

Knock, knock. Ah, speak of the devil. “Jin! Come in, man!”

Guy swung the door open to reveal a man his age, carrying a paper bag full of chips on one arm and a game controller on the other. He set down the snacks on the second-hand coffee table before settling himself on the couch his friend was sitting on. 

“Sorry for being a little late, just had to do a few things. So, what game are we…Oh.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” “Dude. I think you should look at a mirror.” --

yes jin like one of guys friends that he plays with in that one hoodie video. with no voice line or anything at all. that jin. LMAO

anyway i rlly hope u enjoy this :")) i honestly dont think its my best work LMAO but eh! im here 2 have fun man,,, and this probably would be my last fic (atleast in a while but aughh idk if i'll be active again here HAHAJHAD) so yeah!! hope u liked it tysm have a good night/day!!

[michellemisfit]

✨Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨

Thanks for creating the game and for the tag @jrooc thanks for the tag @vintagelacerosette

Today we’re talking fandom. Come play!

Name and A03 handle: Michelle, michellemisfit

Current Location: Living room, surrounded by feathers, as I’m currently fletching some arrows

Favourite picrew: This one is pretty fucking spot on. Or at least it was at the time. Hair is very different now. But then, hair is always different… lol

Also this one is spiritually VERY me

What's one thing you want in a picrew? Ability to add coloured streaks! And a wide selection of scars, or alternatively the ability to move them around the screen. Either is fine. But mostly the hair thing. My hair is generally 4 different colours. Don’t try and limit me to one!!

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom? Erm… 3 way tie between Mexico Gallacrafts, Fimo Gallavich, and Cookie Gallavich? Maybe? Argh. Turns out, looking back at my art tag… I’ve created some pretty cool stuff. Huh. Yay me.

Why is it your favourite? I don’t really do photography, and I’m really proud of the idea behind and the execution of that photo. And while I LOVE drawing more than anything, I don’t think I’m exceptional or anything. But I’m damn creative when it comes to silly 3D craft projects, so both Fimo Gallavich and Cookie Gallavich make me happy and feel like something not just anyone could do… I dunno.

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? It was LONG to create. Both cookie and Fimo Gallavich took several days in total. And I think that’s the other thing I like about myself. I am willing to put in the work, and it usually pays off.

Last ao3 fic you commented on? Hah! You’ll be able to corroborate this, I’m not just sucking up!! LOL I’m currently reading Camp is a Battlefield by @blue-disco-lights, @jrooc, and @mybrainismelted, with artwork by @creepkinginc, so that’s the last one I commented on :)

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? I mean… every single WIP I have ever started reading, only to realise that maybe there won’t be any more of it… 😱 Every. Single. One. They’re all special, and they all hurt in their own special ways. And I will remain subscribed to all of them FOREVER, because you never know!!

Also? Comment on WIPs. Tell authors how much joy the story brought you, how much space it’s occupying in your brain, how much you would love to see it continue but how happy you are to have read as much of the story as there is because it’s changed your brain chemistry… do NOT comment saying ‘next chapter when?’, cause that makes you a dick bag.

Favourite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic? I’m a sucker for fake dating, only one bed, and a soulmate AU 🤷🏽‍♂️

Least favourite? …not a huge fan of kid fic, but hey, all it takes is a great author to make it work.

Secret or surprising kink or trope? Again, do not kink shame, because you’re only ever one good fanfic away from discovering something about yourself you did NOT see coming…

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new? Exhausted and antsy. Is it good enough? Are people gonna like it? Should I even bother anyone with this? Why don’t I just go and hide under a rock forever?? I felt okay about this when I finished it, why is it suddenly the worst thing to have ever been created??? …I wish there was a sense of calm and accomplishment. There is not. Brains suck!

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line: @deedala - I so appreciate how we’re on a similar wave length when it comes to art as well as ‘everybody wants to hunt me for sport’ vibes. I know I can always count on you for kind but honest words, and that’s so important!!

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? Read comfort fic. Probably Like Real People Do or None the Wiser.

Edit: Also? Go and read comments and tags on old art posts. That’s a sure fire way to cheer me up!

This was fun, and made the 15 minute wait between fletching each feather pass much faster. Thanks!!

If you are currently making your own arrows and need something to occupy your wait time with… how about completing a tag game? lol

@heymrspatel @loftec @creepkinginc @deedala @too-schoolforcool @darlingian @iandarling @iansw0rld @ian-galagher @mybrainismelted @palepinkgoat @crossmydna @mikhailoisbaby @sickness-health-all-that-shit @rereadanon @rutherinahobbit @energievie @junemermaid @francesrose3 @deathclassic @faejilly @rutherinahobbit @gallawitchxx @look-i-love-u @jessij1997 @callivich @celestialmickey @wehangout @doshiart @lynne-monstr @the-rat-wins @blue-disco-lights @suzy-queued @sleepyfacetoughguy @spookygingerr @burninface @gallapiech

[e-rated-beardo]

2024 fic roundup

@cheeseplants created this ask/tag game, and I've been tagged by @addledmongoose and @harlotofupdog, here we gooo

What fandoms do you write in?

200% Good Omens. First proper fandom experience. First thing that forced (aye, forced) me to write a fanfic. Huge obsession.

If I were to write for anything else, it might be Our Flag Means Death, or Doctor Who, or perhaps House M.D. or some flavour of Star Trek. Or a crossover between one of those and GO. I'm a completely normal amount of obsessed with Aziraphale and Crowley.

How many words have you published in 2024?

*goes to ao3 stats page*

*hits "2024"*

...220,232 words

What the whole entire fuck!?

And there's another three chapters left on Scorn to go before New Year's, so we'll comfortably surpass 231k. How in the actual fuck is that possible.

What is your greatest achievement this year?

Getting this comment:

What are your favourite top three fics you wrote this year?

Not Single Spies (the third part of Nice And Ominous, which can be read on its own or with the two preceding parts); The Co-pilot; and I'm going to say Scorn and the Saint-Maker, although that's far from finished, because it's been the entirety of my past half-year.

Not Single Spies (part III of Nice And Ominous: a reluctant eschatology of the Second Attempt) Rated E; 61k words Second Coming/post-S2 fic; plot-driven

A man with pale hair turns up in Saint Peter's Square, naked and without memory, and Crowley's old sense of Aziraphale's location snaps like a twig. Heaven is down another Supreme Archangel—but the new Christ is already on Earth (in France, to be precise) and the Second Coming is well underway. And Crowley works for Hell now, but really, he works for the good of humanity; pulling on every friend he has to stop the end of the world.

There is some smut in this, but it's only three sections and they're all skippable. The rest of the story is rated T with no major warnings.

The Co-pilot Rated E; 4k words Human-ish AU; shameless smut

An un-English heatwave, a few open shirt buttons and the demonic entity possessing an innocent Londoner conspire to make long-time friends Az and Tony finally get over themselves and bone.

Scorn and the Saint-Maker Rated E; 97k words so far (WIP) Human not-actually-AU; sorta-post-S2; plot-driven, smutty, mathsy; four plots in a trench coat

Doctor Crowley has turned truancy into an art form, lecturing only under sufferance. Doctor Fell has signed up for his undergraduate course and has no plans to let him slack off. When a faculty member is found dead, our heroes start forming uneasy suspicions. What was the occult symbol drawn next to the body? Why does it feel like they’ve known each other forever? How is Crowley supposed to tell police that he thinks the murderer is a demon he summoned 35 years ago? And what about that statue that’s the spitting image of the victim?

They've been turned human. Now they're academics in Scotland. Romance, weirdness and (skippable!) smut ensue. The fic has some warnings, so check the tags.

What was your biggest pit of despair moment?

I had a nasty week in August, when I got depressive symptoms as a side effect of a necessary medication and spent ~10 days convinced everything I did was shit.

I'm also kind of in one at the moment, but without the pharmaceutical explanation/excuse. I'm just... urgh. Things are stuck. It's. It's a thing. Idk.

What have you learned?

You're expecting me to list everything I've learnt related to writing and fandom and fandom writing in less than an entire academic essay? Are you out of your entire mind!? (❤️)

Big things: I've learnt that I do have the capacity to finish big stories; that things I write are good enough that people want to read them and look forward to reading them and give me all these amazing compliments on them and go slightly feral sometimes; and that if I'm enthusiastic enough about maths, I can trick some folks who didn't even like maths into sort of liking maths.

Smaller things: A smattering of fancy vocabulary. How to paint with watercolour. How to draw Michael Sheen's nose and David Tennant's lower lip. The fact that I have a massive praise kink. More than I knew there was to know about em-dashes and en-rules. Heaps of random facts about the Bible, angels, demonology, poetry, Scotland Yard, Shakespeare, wine, dicks, queer identities I don't have, and queer identities I do have. And a bunch about how to watch/read/consume media with my eyes open and my brain switched on.

What fic did you want to do but never made it off the ground?

I still low-key want to continue The Co-pilot into... something. And That Berry Ice Cream from last December has been sort of asking for a follow-up, which just hasn't happened.

I had this idea, shortly after that week in November that the Americans don't like to think about, for something short, snappy, and a little cathartic; a fuck the system-type deal, both to that political shitshow and to all the sad crap fucking over the GO fandom lately, and I started to write it but got stuck not even a thousand words in. Maybe it just wasn't that good of an idea.

Did you beta any fics? Any favs you want to shout out?

I did my first toe-dipping of a beta read just the other month, for Easy Access by @ModernDayKlutz. I've not dared to jump into beta:ing properly for fear that my old flakiness will resurface and make me disappoint a person I've made a promise to, but this one seemed contained enough that I felt I could contribute. Especially with Kilt Knowledge™️.

What three fics have you read this year that you love?

THREE!??!?

All right, so I'm looking through my bookmarks, and, as it turns out, That Fic I Keep Recommending Basically All The Time was one I only read - or at least, finished reading - early this year!

Mint Tea by @copperplatebeech - 31.5k words; rated E - is one of those fics that half the fandom have heard about, right? I don't know if it happened to hit me at a formative point in my fandom life or if it's simply That Good, which is also very likely, but thirsty-well-hung-Dom!Crowley lives in my head for free and will not move out, it seems. It's scorching and funny and sweet, and when I say it gave me the idea to try some... things... which I hadn't tried before, in... certain parts of my life... 🔥🫠

Fanfic, uh... changes lives, y'all! Ahem, well then, onwards:

Come as you are by hiya_angel - 4k words, rated E - this gave me some of the experience reflected in that gorgeous comment above. The angst is minimal and the smut is gorgeous and wonderfully sweet and I adore this fandom for making me feel hope again and again for all this trans stuff that's still comparatively new to me.

Submitted for Your Consideration by @zehwulf - 19k words, rated E - contains possibly the most spectacular description of subspace I've read in... ever? And when it comes to bowling me over with porn, I could probably just pick anything by ZehWulf because whatever story I pick up it ends with me sitting there absolutely sweating. And feeling fuzzy inside. And maybe also crying for joy.

HERE'S A FOURTH ACTUALLY, YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME:

Lucid by @twilightcitysky - 35k words, rated E. It's unfinished and I barely even care at this point, because something about this fic changed me. It's So. Fucking. Good. It's one of those (rare? Not in this fandom! But a little rare, probably) stories where the smut is absolutely plot-crucial. It's also excruciatingly clever and angstier than I thought I would like (I was wrong! I LIKE IT) and the characters are great. And it's written just beautifully.

What ideas are percolating for next year?

More Scorn. (Don't trust the projected chapter count. Knowing myself, there'll be more of them. Or I might be done with less. It's a completely unqualified approximation.)

More Co-pilot, maybe? (I have Ideas.)

A slightly more fantastical fic that goes into a smut genre I haven't really explored at all before. And which has made me research goats' pupils.

Plus, I want to look into making podfics more. Maybe get better at it. Maybe even try out doing voice work for money? (I'm talking to a guy, it's completely wild, but damn it might be a thing I could do)

Who do you want to thank?

@addledmongoose (quite unintentionally) brought me to Tumblr. (She wrote a review of Nice And Ominous, and it was so lovely, I wanted to go there and like it and respond to it properly, so I just had to create an account, you know? No other options.) I'm so glad I'm here.

@bakingcat made excitable comments about my linguistics-nerdery-snuck-into-sex-scene and made me realise you can actually make friends in fandom.

@klikandtuna wrote the fic which I was a completely normal amount of obsessed with this summer, and which led to (via an instance of fanwork of the fanwork) me being flooded with love from strangers one random Friday and getting put in contact with that voice work guy. We also had the most wonderfully grown-up conversation about a tricky thing, for which I am so very proud and grateful.

@harlotofupdog came straight over to read Scorn almost right when I started posting it - I can't quite remember now, but the timing isn't the important bit - and wrote some absolutely glorious comments. D'you know you're the first writer whose work I'd already been painfully obsessed with, who's also expressed obsession with mine? D'you know how bloody cool that is??

And finally the unhinged smutgoblins of The Beta Fishes The Big Fucks server - idk who to thank anymore because I can't recall who invited me (it was past 3am and I'd just watched Michael Sheen shirtless for an hour, you'll have to forgive a guy) but all of y'all are weirdos and I love to hang out with yous and draw dicks and discuss writing and scream about Rivals and definitely not put mustaches on anyone.

No-pressure tags (in addition to everyone tagged above - please feel free to consider yourselves tagged-tagged if you like) without checking who's already been tagged in this before, because that's A Lot of Work that I don't want to do:

@wiblywoblytimeywimey754 @brenna @majnoonathelibrarian annnnd @kiratastic, pretty sure this could be modified to work for an art perspective too? Right? (If you want)