#soon to be posted in the compilation i made for ao3

[theflyingfeeling]

eyyyyyyy look what I wrote because I was umm... bored and procrastinating. yeah, definitely only that 🙂

additional tags: angst and smut of some kind (more the implied kind that the explicit one)

enjoy~

~

The last time they did it was supposed to be the last time. Then again, so was the time before that, and the time before that (and the time before that as well). Yet, here they were once again, in a dark hotel room, connected at the mouth, hands on each other's cocks.

It had all started on a particularly wintery night in early November, in the sauna of Aleksi's summer cottage, of all places. They had stayed behind, under cover of being too fascinated by the first snow falling softly behind the fogged-up window, while the others had gone on to crack beers and to destroy the remains of a birthday cake by the fireplace in the next room. When Olli had turned his head back to Aleksi – to comment on the beauty of the scenery or something else, Olli no longer remembered – his breath had caught in his throat when he had found Aleksi's blue eyes looking up at his as if he had just been caught doing something he was not supposed to, his red lips parted, and his hand a little too obvious in its effort to cover the... situation between his legs.

Despite the nearly eighty degrees surrounding them, Olli's skin had been on goosebumps and his breath trembling as he had struggled to control where his eyes travelled, to order them back up to Aleksi's face (as if that would've helped) or literally anywhere else. The thoughts of wrong and we shouldn't swarming in Olli's dizzy head had been muted the second Aleksi's warm hand had rested on Olli's bare thigh, its intentions as clear as the thin frozen cover on the lake by the cottage, and verily, Olli had gasped as if he had fallen through the ice into the frigid water when the hand had reached its destination in between Olli's legs at last. What had happened after that, Olli had blamed on the heat of the moment as much as that of the sauna, and despite having spent the entire rest of the song-writing weekend summoning up the memory of Aleksi's hand gripping his cock, of his own hand being covered in white pearls of Aleksi's cum, of Aleksi's lips on his lips and neck and fingers, he had still kept telling himself it wouldn't happen again.

He simply wouldn't allow it.

That was, until he had. In his defence, it's not like Aleksi had done much to prevent it either.

At least that time the tragedy had occurred far away from home, on their short trip to Germany for a promotion event for their record label – which didn't make it any less immoral, of course, no matter how many times Olli had tried convincing himself that whatever happens in Berlin, stays in Berlin.

No, that's Vegas, Niko had helpfully reminded him when Olli had slurred his worldly wisdom, to which he had kept hanging on ever since that night in a doomed attempt to assure himself that the fact it happened in a foreign country would somehow justify what they had done.

He had almost believed it too: almost, meaning not even a little bit, and that was essentially why Olli's articulation had been so thick and sloppy, although he had found no help for his despair in the bottom of his pint glass either. No matter where he had looked, his eyes had kept travelling back to Aleksi's, staring at him from the other end of the table, equally miserable as his own; no matter what Olli had tried to busy his mind with, his thoughts had always returned to the way, back in their hotel room, Aleksi had pushed him against the mattress and Olli had let him, or the way Olli had slid his hand under Aleksi's sweatshirt and inside his trousers and Aleksi had done nothing to stop him.

If drowning himself in some overpriced German airport beer had helped him get rid of the crippling guilt, he probably would've done that on the spot. Funnily enough, if only Aleksi had given him the word in the form of a nudge against his feet under the table or a gentle brush of his hand while waiting for boarding to start, Olli would've dragged him to the nearest restroom in a heartbeat, just to hear Aleksi panting in his ear again, to feel his hot, heavy breathing against his neck. Instead, they had sat in silence for the whole flight back home, their thighs warm and firm against each other, forced to touch in the limited space of the ecomony class, a constant, intolerable reminder of their sins from the other night.

Please don't let it go that far next time, he would've said to Aleksi, had he been sober and half as brave as he wished to be. Please don't let there be 'next time'. You've always been the stronger one of us.

Alas, Olli never knew if his pleas would've made any difference, for when he had travelled back to Helsinki two weeks later, he had found himself craving for the man's touch just as much as he had ever since they had gotten off that plane from Berlin, and judging by how tight Aleksi had been gripping on to the collar of Olli's shirt, Olli could tell he shared the sentiment.

There had been a new kind of desperation to their touches and to their silent moans as they had rubbed against each other on the couch in Aleksi's basement studio. Maybe it was because they hadn't spoken for days. Maybe it was because Aleksi's girlfriend was upstairs.

When Aleksi had come all over Olli's stomach, his eyes had welled with hopeless tears. Olli wanted to brush them away, but he had feared that would've only made matters worse.

"Fuck. Sorry," Aleksi had whispered with a trembling breath before getting off him. Olli hadn't needed to ask what Aleksi had been apologizing for; he understood it was complicated without Aleksi telling him so. He understood it perfectly well, in fact, having rolled around in bed night after night for the past weeks dwelling on the matter himself, cautious not to awaken the sleeping figure next to him.

The true tragedy was that by then, they had gone far past the point of a simple apology to be any good.

The next day, soaking his sorrows in a bottle of gin on Joonas' sofa, he had told his oldest childhood friend everything, because they didn't keep secrets between them and, well, because Joonas had asked.

"So it's true, huh? Fuck, I thought it was just Niko making things up again. You know, like that time he was convinced Joel had hooked up with that Italian guy, what's-his-name."

(Olli hadn't had the heart to tell him that Joel had, very much indeed, gotten intimate with that Italian guy, a little too loud in a cleaning closet with the door a little too open on a backstage corridor next to a vending machine that had eaten Olli's money once upon a time in Rotterdam, but that was a conversation for another drunken Thursday.)

"So, umm... does... does she know?"

Olli had shaken his head.

"Are you gonna tell her?"

Olli had been too busy practically inhaling the liquor in his bottle to answer. Not that he would've had an answer ready anyway.

"Is it... I mean... It's just sex, right? There's... nothing more to it, is there?"

That time, Olli had wanted to answer. He really, really had. But whatever would've come out of his mouth instead of the broken sob he had let out once the comforting burn of the alcohol had left his throat would've been a terrible lie, so maybe it was best he hadn't.

"Oh, Olli..." Joonas had whispered into his hair as he had wept against the soft, pink fabric of Joonas' hoodie. It had been little comfort to ease his pain, but at least he hadn't been back at Aleksi's making more poor judgements.

There'd be more opportunities for that, Olli was to find out, although they had agreed with solemn nods and lumps in their throats that they'd have to put an end to it before it would be too late. It seemed, however, that neither of them wanted to acknowledge it had been too late the very moment they had first kissed in Aleksi's sauna that snowy November night; Olli could only speak for himself, of course, but once he had had a taste of something he had until then only fantasized about – for longer than he was willing to admit – he had known there was no coming back. One look at Aleksi's lustful gaze on him when they pleasured each other was the only reassurement for Olli to believe he felt the same.

Lust. Olli could fool himself and say that was all that it was: carnal desire, instinctive, uncontrollable somehow, but was it lust you felt when your daily thoughts became consumed by this one person, their smell, their taste, their voice that even came to lure you in your sleep?

Olli knew what it was. He didn't dare say the word out loud though, ignoring how it was just another way to fool himself.

Come their spring tour, and Olli's head felt too heavy with thoughts to carry on his aching shoulders. Aleksi's tongue managed to empty it momentarily the way it emptied his balls, but sooner rather than later, his head was full of mixed messages again: ones that told him he had nothing but misery coming for him if he let this go on, others that asked him how something that felt so world-shatteringly good and right could be so wrong.

Maybe it's not wrong, Olli's post-handjob brain tried to reason, like it did each time these days. He knew he'd come to his senses (or what was left of them) soon after, but every time they had gotten together on that tour – which was almost every other night if they weren't too sleep-deprived or too busy hating themselves – Olli found himself believing it more and more. Maybe it's not wrong and we're just the victims of our circumstances, of having met other people before we met each other. Maybe we're right to touch and crave each other the way we do and it's the universe that's fucked us over for never even giving us a fair chance to see if we could be something.

And Olli really, truly wanted the two of them to be something; something more than hasty handjobs in backstage bathrooms or quiet, needy blowjobs at 3 AM in the tour van; something more than a mere fraction of the life they could never have, at least not without breaking some hearts first.

Olli almost felt his own shattering into pieces when Aleksi spoke to him in the dark of their hotel room.

"This is the last time. It has to be."

Perhaps it would've been more convincing if Aleksi's thumb hadn't been stroking his collarbone, or if he hadn't felt the softness of Aleksi's lips on his shoulder.

"I know," he said anyway, like he always did. He stared up at the ceiling until his eyes began to burn, so he closed them and focused on the gentle touch just above his chest. He set his breathing to the rhythm of Aleksi's thumb, forcing away the dread and regret, hopefully until morning.

"I just..." Aleksi paused to huff out a short exhale, with an undertone of frustration or perhaps even anger, "I just— I wish it... didn't have to be."

Olli opened his eyes again, only to find the ceiling even more blurry than the last time he had stared at it.

"I wish it didn't have to be like this. I wish I could... I wish we could..."

Olli couldn't force himself to speak and tell Aleksi that he, too, wished their situation was different, to tell him just how much he wanted him, so he silenced Aleksi with his lips and showed him.

He showed him, not with his words, but with the way his hands gently pushed Aleksi to his back. He showed him with his tongue that explored the insides of Aleksi's mouth and the smooth skin below his jawline. He showed him with his fingers that wrapped around Aleksi's erection, stroking his length while Olli's other fingers prepared him. He showed him with the way he moved inside him, slowly, tenderly, then faster, more desperate, until he lost himself completely in the feeling of Aleksi.

Aleksi's breaths came out short and fast, and Olli knew he was close. His thrust became more determined, less for his own pleasure than that of the man trembling under him when his orgasm hit him. Only then Olli allowed himself to let go as well, coming inside Aleksi, filling him, taking him.

Aleksi's eyes were glassy as he sunk his hand into Olli's hair and brought him in for a kiss to make up for all the ones that were cut short while they had been gasping for air. In those moments, when they were both weak and vulnerable, it was too easy to imagine this was exactly how it was supposed to be, or, the very least, where Olli wanted to be: their their bodies having become one with him still inside Aleksi, their sweaty skin sticking together, their tongues working in sync. He hoped it spoke more than any words he had left unsaid.

I want this. I want you.

[creek-dump-blog]

And That's How This Blog Was Made! :D

This pinned post will probably be a little explanation on who I am, my fanfiction rankings, compilations of related artworks/comics, etc.

Who is Me? 🤨

You can call me Karma (She/Her)

Cis Aromantic Bisexual

Literally got into South Park because of Creek. From this video to be more specific

Don't expect me to be consistent with this blog. I'm going to start college very soon and this blog isn't meant to be taken seriously

My Top Creek Fanfictions:

2.The Lost Boys by craigtrash (AO3)

Rating: Explicit (Abuse, Sexually Explicit Content)

A Creekenny fic that I love sm!

Craig and Kenny move away from South Park to attend college. Kenny is still Mysterion because he's THE GOAT and Craig gets with Tweek

3.Thieves Work Alone by Cheylouwho (AO3 & Fanfiction.net)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

This is 100% my favorite Creek fanfic (100% my ass-). My ass could not sleep while reading this

This is a Stick of Truth AU and it's mostly story based. I usually try to avoid story based fanfics because I'm just like WHERE IS MY SHIP??!?! but the story was very good and it honestly would fit in the show

4.Forgive Me For All the Damage Done by RiddlePanda (AO3)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

This fanfic is a depressing tale turned wholesome and entertaining (with some angst, naturally)

Craig is kicked out of his dad's house because Craig wasn't his "father's", Thomas' son so he lives under a bridge and guess who helps him? 🤔

5.This Isn't Deja vu! by Exylaeon (AO3)

Rating: General Audiences

Super fun read and quite wholesome at the end!

People at school start paring Staig & Twyle and both parties try to one up each other

6.Starman by pitcherx (AO3)

Rating: General Audiences

God! This fanfic made me wish we had a South Park season where the kids are older. This fanfic is sad but so fucking wholesome! I can't!

Craig is being sent into space and Tweek is reasonably very stressed about this

I swear I'm not a biased AO3 reader. I actually started reading Creek fanfictions on Wattpad but none of them stuck out to me. If you have any fanfiction recommendations please let me know to feed my hyperfixation on this ship!

Related Artworks/Comics/Fanfiction:

Creek Headcanons

#1

#2

Meth Troubles: Comic (W.I.P)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Fanfiction Rambles

#1

To The Three of Us (Creekenny AU)

My Wattpad

Concept Art

Part 1

[vladajwrites]

Razor’s Edge

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five

Summary; Reader moves to Woodsboro for her senior year of high school. This story take place in the setting of the Scream 4 movie. This story is dedicated to all of the girls living through the current Rory Culkin revival. I love and see you. <3

Also available to be read on AO3 here

It's imperative for me to mention MAJOR trigger warnings for this story; blood, violence, sexual content, alcohol usage, and mentions of abusive situations. I will add and edit tw's as needed.

WC; 4146

Notes; Hello!

The next part should be out relatively soon. Not sure quite yet how many parts will be made and posted. Thank you for any and all support! It truly means the world to me.

(Not Beta Read)

It had been an astonishingly warm night when you returned to the town of Woodsboro. The air around you felt slick with familiar August humidity as you stepped out of the car that once belonged to your father. You stood for a moment, inhaling deeply as if attempting to swallow in the sight around you.

It had been nearly a decade since you had seen the quiet street where your aunt Irina resided. The moon was nearly full, casting a gold tinted glow that rivaled the street lamps near the surrounding homes. Memories of your childhood summers spent rolling in the grass of your aunt’s front yard as she sunbathed beside you flashed through your mind as you stared across the lawn.

A sad smile crept across your lips as you popped the trunk, compiling boxes in an unstable stack within your arms.

You suddenly felt a nervous sting in your stomach as you walked towards the door. Reality seemingly sinking in slowly. You had just turned eighteen only days prior. You dreamt of that birthday for years. It meant that you were now an adult and that in some ways; you were free. Free to leave home and go no contact with your parents. Your parents had plucked you from a town not far from Woodsboro and moved you across the country at the age of nine. They isolated you from the support of any sort of extended family or potential friends. Your mother and father psychically and emotionally tormented you and did so in such a calculating manner that they would never be caught or reprimanded.

You had tried to run away to your aunts once before at the age of fourteen, but your parents had the police bring you back to the home before you could cross the county’s boundary. It was even more difficult to keep in contact with your lovely aunt after that. Your parents monitored the communication between the two of you like a hawk. Your aunt still did what she could to support you and you both knew that when the time came, she would become your safe haven.

You weren’t sure how you’d make your escape, how you would go about hiding the things you were carefully packing away. But it seemed your parents had, by this point, completely checked out. It was as if they quietly understood that you’d all be better off if you parted ways. The final confirmation you needed that this was true was when your dad passed the title of the old car he had kept in the garage and worked on rebuilding over the past years to you just days before your birthday. He committed this action wordlessly, dropping the paperwork in front of your bedroom door to find. You said nothing in return. You knew what it all meant. An action like that from him would never come from a place of love or kindness.

It didn’t take you long after to finish gathering the last of your things. You debated on leaving your parents a note, debated the possibility of initiating a final conversation with them. Using your better judgment, you decided against it. They didn’t deserve anything from you, you knew you’d never receive the closure from them you deserved. Better to just try and forget it all.

You left in the night after hours of pacing your bedroom floor, waiting and listening anxiously until the house grew silent and you could assume your parents were fast asleep. You grabbed your bag containing your phone, wallet, and keys and made your way out to your car that sat adjacent to the curb in front of the Connecticut home that served as your personal hell for nearly a decade.

You started the engine, feeling the car shake as it warmed up. Your hands trembled as they gripped the steering wheel. You were ready, had to be.

Taking a single look back at your home, you felt your heart skip out of step as you caught your mother’s frame looking down at you from her second-story bedroom window. You took your foot off the gas as you met her eyes. You couldn’t have but certain, but by the way her sullen cheeks glinted in the dim night lighting, she appeared to be crying. Her mouth remained pierced and straight, her shoulders and head rigid and stiff in their usual form. Even if she truly were crying, you wouldn’t have been able to bring yourself to care. Too late and far too little, you thought. You snapped your head back to the road and pulled forward down the street, refusing to look back again.

You held your shoulders and back straight, attempting to keep your face stuck in shrewd control. You couldn’t explain the wet, sickly feeling that built and spilled from the corner of your eyes. Couldn’t stop it if you tried.

It wasn’t until you caught a glimpse of yourself in the rearview as you entered the highway that you realized you saw your mother’s face staring back at you. A sudden terrible thought crossed your mind. Could your parents have made you just as cruel and horrible as they were?

You took a deep breath, wiping away the tears that clung to your cold skin. You let your body slack slightly, relaxing the muscles in your face and shoulders. You glanced back up at your reflection once more. No, you thought, there was still a sense of softness in you. You would never be like them. You were going to heal, move forward.

A smile spread across your lips then as another car shot past you. This felt like the first real moment of your life. You reached over, digging in your bag for your phone. You only had one person to call. The phone rang twice before your aunt’s soft-spoken voice answered on the returning line. As if she could read your mind, she asked quietly, “Are you on your way?”

Your smile widened as you answered her, “Yes, yes! I’ll be there in just a few days. I have all my things. I’ll let you know if I run into any trouble.”

The line was silent, you held your breath as you waited for a response. You suddenly felt nervous in those quiet moments. You hadn’t told her that this would be the night you would be leaving. It had all happened so quickly.

Your aunt then exhaled a heavy sigh of relief and your smile returned once more.

“Be safe darling, I’ll speak to you soon. I love you.” Irina spoke.

“Okay, promise I will be. I love you too.” You replied before pressing the button to end the call.

The long drive passed in what now felt like an instant as you stood in Irina’s driveway, boxes in hand, looking up at what would become your new home.

Your aunt Irina greeted you on her front porch, promptly taking one of the small stacked boxes from your arms that hid your face. You sighed in relief at the lightened load.

“Ah dochka, come inside quickly.” Your aunt said over her shoulder as she propped the front door open with foot.

You nodded and followed her, placing the heavy boxes that contained the most important of your belongings on the entryway table beside the stairs. Your aunt carefully placed the box she held on top of the stack as well before turning to face you. You held your arms awkwardly at your side, your fingers twitched as you met your aunt’s gaze. She was all the natural beauty and poise that your mother -her older sister- had without the cutting and sunken look that came from years of contempt and cruelty. You hoped you favored your aunt in that way.

There was a moment of silence shared between the two of you as you took in the sight and presence of one another. Irina’s expression was filled with something indiscernible as she looked you over. You suddenly felt self-conscious in that moment. The last time she had seen you, you were only a child.

“I-“ You began to speak, unsure what your next words would be. You were promptly interrupted as Irina took you into her arms.

“Oh sweet girl, I’ve missed you so much.” Your aunt spoke softly. Her hand slid over your hair, holding your head closer to her own.

You tried your best to get a hold the overwhelming emotions building up inside you as you wrapped your arms tighter around her.

“Listen, don’t worry about any of it right now,” Irina pulled away, holding your shoulders in her hands. “I’ll show you to your bedroom. It’s late. We’ll catch up in all the days to come. As you’re ready, of course.”

She understood you so perfectly. It felt as though no time had passed between the two of you at all. You nodded, wiping away the single tear that slipped past your waterline. “Thank you.” You replied earnestly.

She showed you to your room, helping you carry your things up the stairs. The room was warm and soft, perfectly polished and eclectic, in the style that perfectly encapsulated Irina. You absolutely adored it all.

Your aunt didn’t linger as you swiftly unpacked the essentials you needed for the night. It was nearly reaching the hours of the early morning and you were both physically and mentally well exhausted. You’d let yourself begin to process it all in the morning. For now, you were safe, even happy. It was going to be alright.

The next morning had come and gone. Your aunt woke you with breakfast and the two of you exchanged small pleasantries. In the afternoon Irina stopped you as she caught you on the stairs, a laundry basket stuck to her hip. “We can go tomorrow to enroll you at the high school if you’d like. I have a gap in meetings around noon.”

You picked at your fingernails, tossing up the idea in your head. “It’s okay, I can run by the school on my own tomorrow. I imagine It shouldn’t take me very long.”

Irina furrowed her brow, nodding. “Oh okay then, just shoot me a text when you get everything sorted, will you?”

You smiled and nodded before the two of you resumed your paths apart.

Finding your way to the school the next morning wasn’t too difficult of a task to accomplish. Classes began in a week and to your relief, there were no students hanging near campus yet to be found. Aside from a few members of faculty, the school was entirely deserted.

It didn’t take you much time to locate the staff required to complete your enrollment. The secretary had even exclaimed she knew your aunt quite well. You supposed that everyone must be at least partially acquainted in this town, given its size.

You suddenly felt hesitant as you made your way across the parking lot back to your car. A silver sedan caught your eye as it sped past you. All four windows were rolled down and you could tell the car was full of people that looked just about your age. It seemed you had caught their attention too as you met the eyeline of the driver. She was too far away to make out much detail beyond her short cropped hair and frame.

The thought hadn’t yet occurred to you how difficult it would be to make new friends in a place where nearly everyone grew up with one another. You wished in that moment that you had made more of an effort as a child during your summers spent here to make any friends. But you had always been shy, horribly and painfully shy, as a child. It was just easier to play on your own. In all honesty, you weren’t sure how to make real close friends, let alone keep them.

Still, you shrugged, it would have made this whole transition much easier if you had at least one person near your age in Woodsboro who might have remembered your name.

You tried to keep your mind occupied in the days that followed. It wasn’t much of a hard task to follow. In the afternoon, you mainly kept to your bedroom, flipping mindlessly through a book you had been attempting to finish for the better part of a month. In the mornings you sat in the window bay, hot coffee in hand, remembering the neighborhood boys you used to watch ride by in circles on their bikes. Occasionally, your aunt invited you to eat lunch at the law firm she worked at in town. She’d tell you endlessly how quickly you’d adjust to things once the school year started, reminded you how the home was always open to guests, talked about the possible colleges you could apply to. It was a strange feeling to have someone show so much interest in the day-to-day doings of your life. You figured you’d learn to truly welcome and reciprocate the sentiment in time.

Your nerves had seemed kept safely under control until you began to turn into the Woodsboro High parking lot on the first day of class. Your fingers tapped the steering wheel in anticipation as you pulled into an open parking spot near the back of the lot. Placing the car in the park, you flipped your visor, giving yourself a once over before biting the bullet and getting the worst part of the day on with it. You scolded yourself for unknowingly chewing your lip nearly raw on the drive there, but other than that, you seemed just about alright.

Irina had been so excited to help you get ready for your first day. You knew she had always thought of you as her own daughter. She never had the opportunity to have any children of her own. You gladly let her fuss over your hair and clothing without once interjecting that the curling iron was burning your neck, and the constant outfit changes were exhausting your limited wardrobe. It gave you a sense of confidence, though, knowing that you at least looked your absolute best, regardless of how you felt inside.

You said a silent prayer as you approached the building’s front doors. Groups of students passed by in small droves. Each step felt like sinking through sludge as you noticed the quizzical looks from your new found peers that read ‘outsider.’ Even though your rational brain knew it couldn’t be true, it felt as though everyone in the halls was craning their heads to catch a glimpse. You dug your thumbnail into the palm of your hand as you dropped into an empty chair near the back of your first period homeroom class.

“There’s that new face.” A friendly female voice spoke beside you as she dropped her things on the desk to your right.

You turned to face her and were met by an inquiring smile and a familiar short blonde haircut. You immediately recognized her as the girl you had seen in the school parking lot the day you had registered.

You held out your hand, giving her your name.

She shook your hand in return, “Kirby.” She replied, giving you her own. As the two of you waited for the first bell to ring, you exchanged the usual first introduction sentiments. She introduced you to another girl who sat in the seat in front of you.

“Jill Roberts.” The new girl had stated more matter-of-factly.

“Good to meet you, Jill.” You replied in the same cadence. She gave you a half smile as she onced you over.

You spent the majority of your first few periods staring out of classroom windows or drawing endless little circles on your notebook as your teachers passed around syllabi and gave the same spiel on classroom expectation for the semester. You had learned so many names in just a few hours; you were already struggling to remember even just a handful. You assured yourself it wouldn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things. In a matter of days, most people would lose interest in the new girl thing and you’d slip comfortably by as a nameless face in the considerably smaller student body.

The bell rang for lunch and you were on your feet with your things thrown over your shoulder in a matter of seconds. You carefully squeezed your way through the buzzing hallway and made a direct line to your car, hoping to decompress and catch your breath for a moment.

Just as you planted your first foot on the paved parking lot, you heard your name called, no- shouted, from behind you.

‘Fuck,’ you mumbled to yourself, pivoting in place. It took a moment to locate the person who had called after you. A curly-haired boy awkwardly jogged to catch up, his long-haired counterpart feigned a cooler stepped approach behind him. You couldn’t remember an introduction with either of them.

The curly-haired boy noticing the confused look on your face interjected, halfway catching his breath, “We already got your name from Kirby.” He began, noticing the way your brows furrowed he quickly continued, “I’m Robbie, this is Charlie.” He motioned to the man that stood beside him.

You looked up between the pair, catching Charlie’s line of sight. His eyes dropped just as quickly to his shoes below him, kicking his laces at the ground.

“... Right.” you stated questioningly, dragging your eyes away from the frayed aglet on Charlie’s left shoe to look back up at Robbie.

“Right, yeah,” Robbie stumbled over his next words, “We run the film club. We meet every day after school.” You sucked in your bottom lip, trying to conceal your now amused half smile.

You noticed Charlie now glancing between you and Robbie with dread in his expression at the awkward mess Robbie was attempting to make his way through. Just before Charlie could begin to speak, Robbie rushed to spit out the point he was trying to get to.

“Well, we’d- I’d.” Robbie met Charlie’s eyes for a moment before continuing. “No- we’d love for you to, if you ‘d want to… You should come check it out. After school. Today.”

You rolled the idea over in your head for a moment. You didn’t really believe you belonged anywhere near a film club; you considered yourself an average movie-goer at best. It couldn’t necessarily hurt to go, either. If you really felt out of place, you could just not go back the next day. You squinted up at the pair. Neither of them could meet your eyes. Your aunt would be ecstatic to learn you’d even made an attempt to put yourself out there a bit more. The short contemplative silence hadn’t been a thought that had crossed your mind, but you could tell it was now starting to make them squirm.

“Come on dude, I told you she wouldn’t want to come.” Charlie broke the silence with a quiet plea to Robbie.

Charlie now turned back to face you, “I’m sorry, don’t stress about trying to make it.” The look of defeat in the pair’s expressions brought a pit of sudden guilt in your chest. Just as Charlie grabbed Robbie’s shoulder to drag him back inside the school, you interjected without a second thought.

“I’ll go. I’d love to go. Thank you for the invite.” You drug as much sincerity into your face as you could muster. Both boys stopped in their tracks, exclaiming in unison, “Really?”

Charlie’s eyebrow raised in suspecting confusion.

“Okay, cool! Classroom 120A, right after the last bell.” Robbie called over his shoulder, a wide grin plastered across his face.

You stood for a moment, one foot on the curb, watching the pair make their way back to school. Fixating on the way, Charlie ran his hand through the mess of his long hair.

“See, I told you dude, you just have to make the first move.” You could hear Robbie say, almost out of earshot now. His arm reached out to fall over Charlie’s shoulder, shaking him slightly. Charlie pushed the boy off him. You imagined him rolling his eyes as he brushed off his shoulder.

You laughed to yourself, turning on your heel, heading back to your car to spend the time left of lunch you had in much needed solitude.

The remainder of the school day passed by just about the same way the first half had. In your last class of the day, you took the time counting the heads of the students around you, trying to recount the names of each one you could remember. Once you made your way to the back corner of the room, you noticed Charlie staring down at his lap. He was crumpling, unfolding, then crumpling up the same piece of paper over and over again. You wondered what he could’ve written on that paper, if there was anything written on it at all.

You hadn’t realized how long you sat watching his repetitive movements until he looked up, catching your gaze. His eyes were piercing, deep set, his hair half-way covering the features of his face.

Your face burned hot as you quickly snapped your head back towards the whiteboard in the front of the room.

‘Idiot.’ You groaned in silence to yourself. Out of the very corner of your peripherals, you could feel his eyes still fixated on you from just a row behind. You picked at your nails anxiously, watching the minute hand spin on the classroom clock.

The last bell of the day rang out shortly after and you relaxed into your seat. You slowly gathered your things into your bag on the desk.

“Hey.” A familiar voice spoke beside you. You jumped in your seat at the quiet and sudden proximity. You looked up to meet Charlie’s gaze. He was messing with the loop on the strap of his backpack that rested on his left shoulder. “I can show you to the room we use for film club, if that’d be cool with you.”

You nodded your head up at him. “Yeah, that’s cool.” In all honesty, you had almost completely forgotten about even going.

“Cool.” He said, grabbing your bag off the desk and throwing it over his other shoulder. He began walking to the door, motioning over his shoulder for you to follow him.

You followed closely beside him as you both pushed your way through the hallways packed with students exiting the building. The would-be awkward silence between the pair of you was graciously filled by the loud chatter of people passing by.

“When’d you move back?” You barely caught Charlie’s question. His face was fixed on the wall in front of him.

“Back? I’m sorry, I’ve never lived here.” You replied, “I moved in with my aunt about a week ago.”

He looked over at you, studying your face for a second before turning away again. He nodded his head.

“What about you? How long have you lived here?” You asked, keeping your gaze directed forward as well.

“Born and raised.” He replied. You nodded in response as the two turned a corner. You could see a plaque that read 120A just ahead.

A trio of guys in football garb made their way past, headed in the opposite direction. The closest of the group carried a large bag of equipment at his side that nearly knocked your knee from under you as you crossed paths.

“Ouch,” you mumbled, missing a step. You were alright, truly fine after shaking it off a bit.

Charlie stopped in his tracks beside you. Turning to face the group. “Watch your shit, Anderson.” He called after them.

The carrier of the bag didn’t bother to stop walking, only looking over his shoulder to seemingly size Charlie up. He laughed, “Yeah, alright Walker. You’re not gonna do shit about it.”

You could nearly feel Charlie tense up beside you. Men and their silly egos.

“I’m alright, let’s go please.” You grabbed Charlie’s forearm and pulled him forward towards the room, letting go once you could feel his resistance lessen.

Once in the room, you let out a sigh and took a seat next to Kirby near the center of the room. The meeting, to your surprise, went by well. Charlie and Robbie both seemed much more sure of themselves when they were talking about things they were passionate about. Although you had to admit it was all pretty dorky, you’d never fault them for the devotion in their interests.

You were practically lost throughout the hourlong meeting, but you believed it wouldn’t be too much of a challenge to pick up on things, eventually. It was all sort of interesting, fun even.

You decided on the car ride home that day you’d make sure to attend the next one.

[according2thelore]

Omg I'm loving all the ES /LS!Winchester dynamic!!!! Would you guys consider compiling and posting the drabbles on A03?

Also, ES!Dean being so turned on by with LS!Sam is so hot and hilarious 🤣🤣🤣

But it's got me thinking, what if ES!Sam comes to Dean for some tips on Dean's preferences/favourite positions?

ES!Sam would cringe/blush so hard while asking but the poor collage boy couldn't top ES!Dean's years of experience hoeing around all 50 states 🤣🤣😭

Also, how would ES!Sam react to finding out about Benny? (Whether as a "brother" or if there was a romantic past)

hi!

i've made a lil masterlist over here, but i've actually never considered putting them on ao3! i'd feel a lil bad if i clogged up the wincest tag whenever i update it, since i do it weekly/biweekly. would that be something y'all are interested in? i can't tell if i'm overthinking it?

i put a poll underneath the cut--let me know what y'all think!

as for your ideas--AAH!!!!!!! also written below the cut!

ES!Sam is practically vibrating as he stalks over to LS!Dean in the garage, but loses all nerve as soon as dean actually looks up and sees him standing there. he tries to lean against one of the work stations and misses.

"so. uh. sleeping? with you? how does that work?"

and LS!Dean kinda hits him with the

because uh...what are we about to do? and remind me how i'm supposed to answer in the negative again?

and when ES!Sam sputters through an explanation, getting more and more angry as he keeps going because there is little to NOTHING ES!Sam hates more than feeling stupid or being condescended to, finally spits out,

"what do you like?! sexually?"

LS!Dean is now sweating bc "that does not clarify a single thing, actually."

ES!Sam throws a towel at him, which LS!Dean sportingly lets hit him.

"you! 2006 you! if you were to--uh--have sex. with me? what do you like?"

and LS!Dean is still kind of agog because oh my god??? he himself is already pitching the beginnings of a tent over here and ES!Sam is still blushing and keeps looking in dean's eyes in shifts, looking up at his hairline and then back down to his eyes like he has to take eye contact in doses.

"sexually." sam says again, and if he says it one more time, dean's pretty sure he's going to have to suck his dick right here, right now. he's pretty sure. "i think you...ah, have more experience than me at this point. so. who knows what you'd like better than...you?"

LS!Dean moves his roll-cart of tools in front of him, because this is like every dirty fantasy he's had about sam since he was fifteen. shyly coming up, blushing and hiding under bangs and asking big brother how to have sex, asking big brother how to make it good for him.

when LS!Dean's tongue gets unstuck from the roof of his mouth, he has to clear his throat a few times. almost a hilarious number of times, really. his voice still cracks.

"well. um. sammy. sam." he corrects quickly, hedging a look up at him, "i've gotta tell you. you could probably throw up on his dick and he'd probably come like a teenager."

ES!Sam recoils.

"you want me to throw up on your dick??" he says--really fucking loud--and LS!Dean ducks like someone's taking shots.

"NO! what? what the fuck, kid? no!" LS!Dean looks around, but no one sticks their head in. "it's a metaphor!"

"what is metaphorical about me throwing up on your dick?" ES!Sam looks a little green, like he might do it whether dean wants him to or not.

"i'm saying--" LS!Dean says pointedly, "that i've been so gone for you since you were practically born. you could be the categorically worst lay in the entire world and i'll react like i bagged angelina jolie."

ES!Sam's ears flush pink.

"oh." he says, soft. LS!Dean shifts on his feet, awkward, as sam looks up at him from underneath his bangs, even though the damn kid still towers over him a few inches.

dean sighs.

"he's probably gonna want missionary. he's a sap." he grumbles. "moan his name a few times and do that thing the chick from boston taught you with your tongue. ann or something."

ES!Sam jolts, "how do you know about--"

LS!Dean raises an eyebrow, and sam tapers off into an awkward, understanding nod.

"yeah. drives me crazy." dean confirms. "let him take care of you. he'll have a fucking coronary."

the embarrassed avoidance in ES!Sam's gaze disappears, and a determined glint shines in his eye. for a second, dean thinks he might whip out a pen and paper and start taking notes.

"you have my blessing." LS!Dean says with a show of grandiose magnanimity, and ES!Sam snorts. "i'm like sex yoda right now. kinda scary. can you wear me like a backpack real quick?"

ES!Sam turns on his heel so dean can't see his smile, and dean chalks that one up as a victory.

"hyperbole." ES!Sam calls as he walks away.

"gesundheit!" dean calls after him, and sam turns around, cocky little smile and raised eyebrow and dean feels like he's twenty-six again.

"it wasn't a metaphor. 'throwing up on your dick.' it was hyperbole." he says, but his eye roll is undercut by a grin so wide it splits dean right down the middle.

as for ES!Sam finding about benny...oh lord...

this little buddy is not cool about it. considering the fact that he doesn't even know vampires are still around yet, he is GOBSMACKED by the fact dean was fucking friends with one. purgatory is a whole other can of worms.

he's kind of mad at LS!Sam for a second, because what do you mean we didn't look for him? until LS!Sam turns and looks at him with the deadest look in his eyes and says 'i thought dean was dead' and yeah. okay. he wasn't in his right mind. even the thought makes sam a few seconds away from throwing up, so sam is NOT holding his older self accountable for anything that happened during that time.

but the think that gets him right in the fucking panic alarm is "brother." benny has been more like a brother to me than you have ever been would send ES!Sam to a fucking hospital.

at this point, sam has literally never NOT been dean's 100% specialest little guy, and ES!Dean still gives him amazed little looks even a year after they reunited like he still can't believe his luck. considering S8 sam almost killed himself because he was literally trying to purge his own weakness and--significantly--that includes his "betrayal" of dean, to make himself worthy of his brotherhood again, ES!Sam is passed out on the ground.

he's jealous, of course, but mostly he's gutted. he's so incredibly insecure, and this makes him angry and mean, because--remember--LS!Dean doesn't wear the amulet anymore. and he calls other people brother. who is sam if not dean's little brother? that has always been his first identifier, even to himself, even when he's resented it. he stands a little too close to ES!Dean/LS!Dean for a few weeks, seeking praise like a child.

this was really fun to write, anon, thank you so much for sending it in!!!! <3 kissing you on both cheeks mwah mwah!!!! <3

-lizzy

[ES/LS verse masterlist here]

[unluckywisher]

~Masterpost~

Hello, hello! My name is Irene. This is my Love & Deepspace sideblog, but I also run one of the roleplaying L&DS blogs: @zayne-snowman , and I have a blog for my Love & Deepspace OC: @cheshire-liddell ! My actual main blog is @lovelyvoidless and I follow and like posts through it <3 Here's my AO3, btw!

Don't be afraid to drop by my inbox as long as the asks are open! I love yapping :D

If you click the "read more", you'll see all the stuff I have written, updated as soon as I write more. You can also see my most popular posts at the bottom of this!

Fic requests are closed (unless it's for Nero or Dr Carter)

Anons taken: ⭐️, 🩸.

The LaDS lore compilation project:

Angst:

- You died.

- You married someone else.

- Rafayel's "The Little Mermaid".

- Zayne's "The Snow King".

- A Sea God's Wrath.

Fluff:

- Kissing them all over their face.

- A Wanderer turned you tiny. (+ Sylus) (+ Caleb)

- Spanish pet names they'd use.

- A Wanderer turned them tiny.

- Drawing with Rafayel.

- Zayne as a dad.

- Taking care of Sylus after a fight.

Crack:

- The boys meeting each other.

- Going clubbing with everyone.

- You died again!?

- Playing with the Crow.

- They turned into animals.

- My grandma sold me to Love and Deepspace.

Smut:

- Varied post.

- Caleb play fight.

- Xavier's typical night.

- Fem!Dawnbreaker.

- Sylus filth.

- Period sex with Sylus.

- Nero unfinished drabble.

- A weekend with Nero.

Others:

- Sylus drabble.

- Random headcanons I have.

- Drunk Zayne.

- Sylus predictions. More Sylus headcanons.

- Caleb predictions.

- Lumiere/Xavier drabble.

- Sylus aesthetic pics.

- Dawnbreaker playlist:

Random and fun popular posts of mine (in chronological order):

[1] , [2] , [3] , [4] , [5] , [6] , [7] , [8] , [9] , [10] , [11] , [12] , [13] , [14] , [15] , [16] , [17] , [18] , [19] , [20] , [21] , [22] , [23] , [24] , [25] , [26] , [27] , [28] , [29] , [30] , [31] , [32] , [33] , [34] , [35] , [36] , [37] , [38] , [39] , [40] , [41] , [42] , [43]

Dividers made by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @/anitalenia <3

[thatonefanficwriternooneknows]

Corrie Week 2024: Day 1: Eldritch

Hello! I am going to my best to do Corrie Week! But my health is still shit and I’m out with my wife and mother in law this weekend so we’ll see!!

For Day 1 I decided to do the Eldritch prompt 🥰

Featuring Fox and Quinlan ;)

I will be compiling all my days into a fic on AO3 after the week is over so don’t worry if you miss one!

<3 (Danny Phantom/DC has taken over my life but I’m stubborn)

Fic is a little under 1k 😘

Fox was relieved as soon as he got to his posting.

Not that he was particularly happy about where it was, but that he finally had an excuse to wear his shell 24/5.

Being in armor was relaxing because for once he didn’t have to keep himself contained, didn’t have to be trapped to his flesh, identical to all the vode.

Fox’s entire existence has been a trial in containing himself, for as long as he had memory he’s been conscious that he was greater, no, more, than his brothers.

He stopped bringing it up to his batch after asking Kote how he made it look so easy to keep himself in.

Apparently, Fox was the only vod that felt like his body was a flesh prison.

That’s why Fox was ecstatic to be in shell all the time, even if he had to place the same restriction on the rest of the Corries. (Natborns were dangerous after all.)

Of course he never took off his shell, even when he started getting closer to Quinlan Vos.

The Jedi was very patient when it came to physical intimacy, even though Fox cooud feel the yearning pouring off Quinlan in droves.

Kiffar are a very physical bunch and Fox feels horrid that he can’t give his Jedi that…well not without coming clean about his otherness.

Which led to this currently awkward situation.

Quinlan, shirtless, on the bunk in Fox’s office, staring at him with wide barely blinking honey brown eyes. He was a beautiful being. And Fox was only, mostly, human.

“You know there’s no pressure, right, Foxy?” Quinlan tilted his head and Fox was struck, again, by how stunning the natborn was.

“I’ve just…never shown anyone before.”

“Weren’t you raised in cadet reds? Pretty sure several vode have seen you.”

Fox scoffed.

“No. They saw the flesh prison I forced myself in so I wouldn’t be decommissioned.”

“Flesh prison?”

“For as long as I can remember I’ve felt…bigger….than all the other vode. And no one else felt it.”

Quinlan hummed.

“You have always felt particularly large in the Force. I just thought it was because you’re so foxy.” Quinlan winked and let his lips (distracting) stretch in his bright smile.

Fox returned it, even if the Kiffar couldn’t see it.

Fine.

He’ll do it.

But only to stop Quinlan from his shameless attempts at seduction.

Fox let oxygen fill his body and slowly took off his bucket, letting several parts of his body pulsate with his heartbeat, as fast as it was.

Vaguely, he heard the sharp intake of breath from Quinlan as he lowered his bucket to the ground and let the protrusions on his face become visible and stretch out.

A wheeze as Fox let all of his eyes open and stare at Quinlan to take in more of the Kiffar than he’s been able to since they met. His presence was delightfully gold and purple and Fox smiled, his several rows of pointed teeth stretching through his cheeks and dripping into his neck and collar bone.

Fox catalogued every minute reaction Quinlan had as he took off his shell, piece by piece. His body suit kept his more unnatural parts contained, and in the interest of transparency, Fox took that off as well.

Quinlan gasped as more eyes, mouths, and his shadowy tentacles unfurled for the Jedi’s perusal.

Whatever Fox was expecting, it wasn’t for Quinlan to start laughing happily as he unfolded himself and walk towards Fox with wide eyes and a wider smile.

He was barely a human’s arm length away when Fox’s invisible body decided to wrap his entire existence around the Kiffar and hummed.

Once again, Quinlan surprise him.

A truly tantalizing moan slipped out of his lips and fox moved closer, cataloguing everything about his Jedi with every perception he had. Quinlan was beautiful, inside and out.

Fox used his shadow limbs to pull the Kiffar’s face down to his, a parody of a kiss as Fox’s mouths laved Quinlan’s lovely face with every affection he could.

“Force, Fox, babe, ankai’a, you’re stunning. You’ve been hiding all this time?” Quinlan’s hands reached into Fox’s face, caressing anything that stayed tangible.

He hummed, his tentative existence vibrating with happiness as Quinlan groaned.

“I’m supposed to be a clone, cyar’ika. This is not what the vode look like. It was survival. It’s also why I always keep my shell on. I don’t have to contain my true self when all anyone can see is the copy paste shell all the Corries have.” Fox nuzzled into Quinlan’s hold, letting the Jedi’s Force presence wrap around all of him.

“Babe, Foxy, light of my life, every time we’re alone and you feel comfortable please please let your true self out. Kriff, I’ve never been so turned on in my life.” Quinlan moaned as Fox let one of his appendages slip down the tight leggings, wrapping loosely around the definitely hard member Quinlan was hiding.

Quinlan’s moan was beautiful but Fox’s resounded in the small office.

“If you’ve been hiding all your life…do you have any experience?” Quinlan breathed out, shuddering as Fox’s appendage started to vibrate slightly and tug at the Kiffar’s cock.

“No. But I’m sure you are more than happy to teach me. I’ll be honest, I’ve been curious about kriffing…or getting kriffed.” Fox kissed Quinlan with his face mouths and smiled against Quinlan’s lips when he groaned and bucked into Fox’s hold.

“Baby, you better have a day off because I’m not letting you out of here until we are completely satisfied. And as a Kiffar I can go a long long time.”

Fox groaned and let it resound, vibrating everything in his office as Quinlan shuddered and pushed further into Fox’s hold.

Yes.

Showing his Jedi was a good thing.

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

Poppy Worldwide AU Masterlist~!

Poppy Worldwide, also known as Save Everyone AU, is a different take on the events from Poppy Playtime. Instead of the player character/Angel simply going with the flow, they go out of their way to save not just Poppy, Kissy and Dogday, but every single toy they find. This Angel is haunted by the guilt of never being able to do anything in the 10 years since they lost their coworkers. They won't stand there and watch as more tragedy happens anymore.

CHARACTER REFERENCES

Angel reference sheet

Smiling Critters reference sheet, part 1

Smiling Critters reference sheet, part 2

The Prototype / Experiment 1006 reference sheet

ART SESSION

In chronological order:

Aftermath

Why are you sitting like that

Who was the hardest to get a bath? (plus some other thoughts and bonus meme)

Sketches

Angel class sketches

Angel in outfits/Driver's first apparition in this blog

Angel holding a mini wuggy

Angel with an ubuttoned shirt (not NSFW, but it's under a cut just to be safe)

DayNap in cute outfits

Space Riders AU

Fanart

Fanart for Bobby!

Fanart for Angel!

WRITING SESSION

In chronological order:

Poppy Worldwide: SALVATION ROUTE (AO3 fanfic, still in the works): Also known as the Factory Arc, covering chapters 1-4 of the game.

Post-factory arc:

The Ambulance Ride (Tumblr post).

And that's how you begin to heal (and stop Catnap and Mommy Long Legs from killing each other at the hospital) (Tumblr post)

House Tour, part 1 (Tumblr post).

House Tour, part 2 (Tumblr post)

Yet Another Scar (Tumblr post)

+5 years after the rescue:

Thunderstorm Ball (Tumblr post, DayNap and Prometheus one-shot)

Fanfic:

The Experiment of an Angel, an AU made by @/sukisoox!

HEADCANONS SESSION

Just a compilation of the headcanons I use for this AU! Poppy Worldwide follows the theory that Elliot Ludwig became the Prototype, and that Poppy was his adopted daughter.

Why plan Hour of Joy?

Prototype and Poppy's relationship

Prototype and Catnap's relationship (coming soon)

Prototype's gender and sexuality

Molly Ludwig

Daddy Long Legs

Why is Angel so kind?

Angel's past with PlayCo.

RANDOM INFORMATION SESSION

Just some fun curiosities and facts about the au :0}

Order in which the toys refer to Angel as their parent

Order in which the Smiling Critters refer to Angel as their parent

Order in which every single toy started to refer to Prototype as their parent

Smiling Critters reunion

Catnap and Mommy Long Legs' sibling rivalry

Angel's body count

Catnap's love language (food)

Fashion choices

Favorite movies

Favorite videogames

Sleeping arrangements for everyone

Sleeping, dreaming and nightmares

Fears and phobias

Coyotes in the farm

Prototype first lore drop post

Prototype starting to heal from his trauma

Angel's PTSD (CW: Self-harm dicussion)

Prometheus ship thoughts

Prometheus ship thoughts, part 2

Prometheus romcom

DayNap romcom

Dogday and Catnap dropping their adopted kid off at school

Random scenarios

First baths post-rescue

Angel and the media

What if Angel gets a pet?

Who gives them the "Talk"?

Swimming for the toys

The older toys getting an alcoholic drink for the first time

How do they react when it's hurricane season?

Easter!

Scammer calls

What do they do with all the extra money?

Activism in the house

What if they found a toy that escaped PlayCo. during the HoJ?

DayNap wedding

Super silly posts

Angel's neighboors

[bottomlouisficfest]

We hope you’ve enjoyed the last couple of weeks of fics from the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2024! Every two weeks, we’re compiling all of the fics from that period into one roundup post so they’re easy to find for anyone looking to catch up on fics they missed. Enjoy these amazing fics and give them the love they deserve!

--

One Last Time

A fic by smittenwithlouis on AO3 | @smittenwithlouis on Tumblr | @smittenwlouis on Twitter

24k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I mean it, Harry, this is the last time,” Louis breathes out as Harry kisses down his neck. “Sure,” Harry mumbles into his heated skin. The action makes Louis shudder. He hates how good it feels. He knows he should be revolted. Disgusted. But god does it feel so damn good. Or: Louis is a werewolf, and Harry is a vampire. They’re supposed to hate each other, but they’re too busy fucking to care.

--

Wolves, I hear them calling for you

A fic by DaxitaIsDaydreaming on AO3 | @DaxitasDaydrmng on Twitter

18k | Mature | Tumblr post | Twitter post

"Don't growl at me, little cherry. You know I care about you and I have the right and obligation to distrust any alpha, beta, or omega who approaches you." As soon as those words reached his ears, he blushed like a tomato. Did he really just growl? Like, actually growl? He was losing his mind. "You know I hate being treated like a naive person who doesn't know what they're doing," he lied. He loved being overprotected by the alpha. There was a small (big) charm in feeling small and delicate. Besides how sexy Harry looked with his protective aura radiating from his pores. Wait... What? Did he just think his best friend, almost brother, of his entire life was sexy? No. NO. N- His internal struggle was interrupted when he felt himself being enveloped by the alpha's huge arms. He had pulled him into his body with such ease that his blush grew. Louis could feel his face burning with embarrassment. "You look so beautiful all red like a cherry. My little cherry," he heard him murmur, his husky voice traveling from his eardrum to his brain and settling in his heart. Or Harry was in love with Louis, but the omega definitely didn't see him that way. Or maybe he did.

--

Total distraction

A fic by SwimmingInAChampagneSea on AO3 | @mmmmmmariiaa on Twitter

58k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

He saw tanned skin and someone walking with a sway of their hips. They had a tray in one hand and were treating the beach as their runway. Harry was mesmerised by the person getting nearer and nearer. The person approaching was wearing indecently short and tight white shorts. Harry could hardly tear his eyes away from that whole situation. "My eyes are up here, you know," a velvety soft voice said. Harry was immediately horrified and quickly made eye contact with the person speaking. He could feel the blush rushing to his cheeks and was immensely happy that he was wearing sunglasses that provided just a bit of refuge from those piercing blue eyes he suddenly found himself looking into. OR the one where Love On Tour just finished and Harry finds himself being shipped off to Mykonos for three weeks alone. He expects to spend them bored and lonely until Louis comes sashaying down the beach and changes his life forever... or at least for the next three weeks.

--

Eyes full of stars, heart full of sins

A fic by saturdaysilvers on AO3 | @saturdaysilver on Tumblr | @saturdaysilvers on Twitter

5k | Mature | Tumblr post | Twitter post

As their soul-tying ceremony approaches, Louis reminisces about his relationship with Harry, how they fell in love amidst the war, and how an uncertain foundation still led them to undeniable love.

--

i know your love’s not real

A fic by softruins on AO3 | @diazstark on Twitter

68k | Mature | Tumblr post | Twitter post

With a simple bet that could’ve given him his ticket out of this town, Louis finds that taking the virginity of the nerdy alpha came with lots of difficulties and consequences. One being his lack of patience, the other being a broken heart.

--

In The Spotlight, In His Arms

A fic by Ashisinlove on AO3 | @ashisinlove28 on Twitter

20k | Not Rated | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 128: Popstar Harry Styles and uni student Louis. Harry accidentally goes live on Instagram and his phone captures Louis sleeping peacefully. That’s how he introduces Louis as his boyfriend to the world. The world falls in love with Louis Tomlinson but will everyone really? Slight angst, insecure Louis, but lots of fluff and Louis is so easy to fall in love with.

--

from underneath your glow

A fic by outropeace on AO3 | @outropeace on Tumblr | @outropeaces on Twitter

53k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

With years of bitter experience and a tuition debt that would outlast three generations, Louis did what anyone in his position would; he developed an almost flawless five-step system for scamming alphas. Step One: Find the target. The scummier the alpha, the better. Step Two: Find the target’s soulmate mark. This part could take either a day or sometimes months of stalking every single social media the target have. Patience is key. Step Three: After learning about their hobbies and activities, mold your personality to the target. There’s nothing more irresistible to alphas than to date their mirror. Step Four (and the most important one): Plan the exit route. This will mostly depend on the target. There are alphas who’d pay to make a soulmate disappear from their lives forever, but some took a little more work. The trick? Simple, break their little fantasy. Show them traits they wouldn’t stand. If they like red, suddenly you are all about blue. If they like going out, you start craving nights in. Speak your mind freely—honestly, they hate that. Becoming clingy or basically having any type of need outside theirs also helps a lot. Step Five: Disappear.  

--

Always Yours

A fic by heartbreakwthr on AO3 | @heart_breakwthr on Twitter

8k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 89: Jealous and Possessive Harry when someone new arrives in their group and has a crush on Louis.

--

Midnight Doesn't Last Forever

A fic by mandylynn4 on AO3 | @mandylynn4 on Tumblr | @MirandaSch93519 on Twitter

64k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

When Harry learns that his beloved grandfather has passed away, he also discovers that he's inherited the lake house that he so fondly remembers from childhood. However, it comes with a stipulation - he must be legally married before he can take possession of it. Enter his best friend, Louis, who is an accident-prone freelancer who has a desperate need for health insurance. All seems to be going well with the plan until Louis finds himself in an unfortunate accident that robs him of his memories of Harry and their marriage of convenience.

–

Remember to give these fics kudos and comments, and spread their fic posts!

–

All roundups will be linked here:

Weeks 1-2 Roundup

Weeks 3-4 Roundup

Weeks 5-6 Roundup

Weeks 7-8 Roundup

Week 9-10 Roundup

[skribbyposts]

HELLO AGAIN!!1111!!!! based off of @bidisastersanji's post about Sanji not being able to sit like a normal person (its cause hes a homo). i kind of took the hc and ran w it but thats okay hee hee

Also from Law's pov bc i love him so much and i wanted to try!! hope yall enjoy!!!!!!!!&!%@^#&^(!*#^$W yeah

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Law prides himself on being a very observant person.

It seems he wasn't looking hard enough when he made the mistakes that led him here, sulking under an umbrella on the deck of Luffy's ship.

After Dressrosa, Law was never supposed to see his crew again. That plan was thrown out the window by a certain straw-hatted pirate, and now he's hitching a ride to Zou with this absolute circus that is Luffy's crew.

It's been a week since Law came aboard, and the more he looks, things get weirder and weirder. Specifically, their chef.

The first time they met, the man was well-mannered, minus his attitude towards women and cigarette habit. However, Law finds him ever more strange after every interaction they have on the Sunny.

------

The first time Law notices something off is when he happens on Sanji in the galley. He understands being awake in the wee hours of the night, but not like this.

Law finds the man still fully dressed in his three-piece at three in the morning, sitting - no, crouching - on his chair and poring over a cookbook. His cigarette dangles loosely from his mouth as he mutters something unintelligible to himself and brings his knees together to rest his chin on top of them.

What the fuck, Law thinks, and as if the chef heard his internal monologue, a blonde head whips around to face him standing at the door.

Sanji's wide-eyed, slightly disheveled face stares back at him, and his neck is uncomfortably craned so he can look directly at Law. The pair look at each other awkwardly, and after a moment of silence he just...closes the door.

This is not Law's ship. It is none of his business, and he will go back to the men's quarters to sleep.

-----

This keeps happening the longer Law stays on Luffy's ship, and every day he notices how rarely the Sunny's resident cook takes a break. In addition to that, he also can't help but notice exactly how Sanji chooses to rest.

Whether he's chatting with Robin in the library the lawn or napping with the swordsman on the lawn, it's always with one leg up on the seat, both slung over the back of a chair, or contorted into a position that shouldn't be humanly possible.

Law finds it mildly concerning, but no one else on the crew seems to mind when Sanji stops bustling for half a second and decides to perch himself somewhere (not unlike a gargoyle, Law thinks), so he leaves it alone.

---

Once, he spots the chef sleeping on deck with Zoro, but... upside down. As in, the swordsman is leaning on the mast and Sanji is resting his feet on Zoro's shoulders while his back is on the ground. It looks extremely uncomfortable. He also spots Zoro crack open his eye to peer down at the man, before closing it with a very resigned expression on his face and a light dusting of pink on his cheeks.

Again, this is not his ship and Law most certainly does not want to open that can of worms right now. He leaves the two in peace and hopes they figure it out by themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ik its not the best but this has been in my drafts for like a week and if i dont post it now im gonna forget about it for like three months so... you guys can have it yeah !! i didn't proofread this either so please lmk if there are mistakes

ANYWAYS Spawned a brand new hc that bc Sanji was locked up for like 5 years he had to teach himself stuff and develops the muscle memory for it wrong and just self-corrects in front of other ppl after learning the right way to do it. i might explore that in a longer fic at a later date, we'll see.

ALSO!!!! by popular demand(read: one person) im gonna start posting on my ao3 soon. you can find it here and all my zosan ficlets will be compiled into a series soon! watch out for that yall

[lostdrarryfics]

lostdrarryfics monthly roundup! July 2024

Below you will find the requests we could not locate in the month of July. Please let us know if you recognize any!

You can also browse our lengthy lost fic masterlist, where we have compiled every request we have been unable to find over the past few years. We're always hoping someone will recognize a fic so we can let the asker know what it was!

1. It was on ao3, 8th year, after the war, very often the writing shifted between draco and harry's POV. Draco and theo were dating (but they breakup in the end so drarry gets together), it's also a bottom draco fic but I can't remember any specific sex scenes. Theo peer pressures draco to do pills-like drugs and latter ron mentions to harry that he saw theo and draco staring at ron weird and laughing in the hallways at night. Their relationship is toxic but I don't remember much about it, draco and harry slowly starts to become friends, it's more or less at the same rhythm as Theo and draco relationship crumbles. I remember there was a point were theo has sex with some other guy to get more drugs and draco gets upset because he was cheating but then theo says that the other guy raped him and draco is not supposed to tell anyone because he could get in trouble and harry is secretly listening to the most part of the discussion and in his head he starts to question why would nott get in trouble if he was the victim but ultimately doesn't do/say anything about it. Theo gets addicted to those drugs but I can't remember if draco get as well or not. I can't recall if someone harasses draco for being a ex death eater but the students definitely look at him, and other slytherins, differently and most of them get excluded from the rest of the school despite the majority being innocent or too young to have done anything

2. harry and draco I think were already together. But Hermione liked draco and tried to steal him from harry and either used a love potion or gave him a cookie which made him fall in love with her. Some maybe key points I remember are: Harry was thinking and out of space not listening to ron and hermione fighting, when they finally got his attention ron told him about how Hermione thought it was ok for her to flirt with draco even in front of harry. Then at some point draco came up to the three and as he left hermione kisses him on the cheek in front of harry. I read the story on Wattpad in like 2020/2021 and Im pretty sure it had chapters.

3. harry has an owl service or some delivery food service like ubereats, postmates, deliveroo and once he learned who the order was for, Harry was going to give Draco Malfoy a piece of his mind for such a request for late delivery. “ugh pure bloods and their wealth”. then unexpectedly the wards let Harry in, and then he was face to face with Draco. now I will be honest, the role of Harry and Draco could be reversed, but I don’t think so? It may feature a young Scorpius Malfoy or Teddy Lupin. rating: explicit / mature? last remember reading it on ao3. One shot, completed. Maybe apart of Harry/Draco Owlpost Fest? tags: post-war, not canon compliant?, owl, owlpost, delivery, malfoy manor, grimmauld place, order, baked goods, food service. harry and draco are like in their 20s-30s. one chapter: about 10K words

4. i’m pretty sure in this fic harry is this well known baker/pastry chef in the wizarding world, and him and draco become friends and soon start dating. draco falls in love with harry’s sweet desserts which harry claims has a “special ingredient” which he won’t tell draco until the end. that’s when they meet in harry’s pantry/bakeshop and draco soon learns harry methods to creating such desserts, especially when harry uses his magic literally and metaphorically to create a huge order for a Ministry event which make draco falls deeper for him and his special filling especially when they go to the eat and eat his home made desserts. rating: explicit / nc-17. last I remember reading it on ao3. May be apart of a Drarry fest including: H/D Erised or Food Fair or Owlpost. From 2020-present maybe? tags: post war, not canon compliant, bakery, baker, pastry chef harry, coffee shop, coffee, post hogwarts/ harry potter epilogue what epilogue, frosting, icing, innuendos, pwp, cake, batter word count, filling, cream, crème, food, euphemisms. harry and draco are like in their 20s-30s. one chapter: 10K-20K words

5. fic I read a couple months ago. I found that fic at AO3, it's a multiple chapter (I don't remember the exact number of chapters). Main couple is Drarry. The fic is not magical au, I think Harry is a university student(?) and such an extrovert slight flirty person, but he only has Hermione as his friend. Btw, in that fic, Hermione is having an affair with Remus (their professor). Harry is crushing over Draco (Draco's not a university student), he's often goes to the campus to pick up Astoria, his girlfriend at that time. One day, Astoria invite Harry to her house in order to spice up her bed activity with Draco. At first, Draco is so shocked and offended(?) with Harry's presence (Draco has a idk what to call it, i guess internalized homophobic(??) caused by his father action). But then, slowly, Draco become more intrigued to Harry. Harry also realized that Draco is not the same as what Draco show in the outside, Harry knows that Draco hide his dom side(?) to look so calm, collected, chill, and so on). I think it's save to say that there are some infidelity at that fic but at the end Draco ends his relationship with Astoria first before officially start a new one with Harry. Oh, and Astoria is kind of regret her choice introducing Harry to Draco because she kind of sad to lose Draco, but no hard feeling tho.

6. the first few chapters are poems. Draco was fleeing to the muggle world or something and Harry captured him. Harry is also an Alpha and he mated with Draco forcefully, I think in this world if one of them dies then the one mated with you can be dead too. Thank you so much, it’s on AO3 but I can’t find it.

7. looking for a fic where Draco works as a mailman or something and he plays chess with one of the elderly lady in a wizarding nursing home. The lady also gives him tips but it embarrasses him but he accepts out of necessity. Harry is an auror and a newly turned werewolf and he cannot control himself around Draco like I remember that he keeps sniffing him while they were near an elevator. I've reread this fic but I can't seem to remember the title!

8. looking for a fic i only read the synopsis for (i swear i saved it but i cant find it now) basically draco writes a letter to harry saying "I'm going to kill you" but harry misreads it as "im going to kiss you"

9. fic on ao3, it was about Draco being like a sex slave for the deatheaters, and he was held up in chains and perceiving a lot less of his surroundings due to him trying to not feel anything. The plot of the war was different, and Harry and Ron were using polyjuice to get inside the manor, then they found Draco and were surprised, but Ron did like a gesture that he would also r4pe Draco (like unzipping his pants or something) and Harry stopped him, I think Harry said to Draco that he was gonna try to set him free when they could and Draco stayed there while watching them go. I'm not sure about that last part, and I do not remember much more or maybe even he wasn't free at all at the end

10. what I remember is that Draco was held in a room at Order headquarters, I remember several members tried to visit him for questioning, including Harry. But Draco didn't reveal anything at all. Then there is a scene where Harry comes in and tells him that Lucius Malfoy is dead, Harry shows the ring as proof that he is not mistaken

11. I could be mixing up two fics. I'm pretty sure it was on AO3. It was a 4th year AU, where I believe Harry and Draco were already dating when the Tournament happened. One scene that I remember clearly is that when Harry has to do that wand thing for the tournament, his wand just doesn't want to be used by Ollivander, so it hits Ollivander in the head. Also I think that Harry and the other champions get along pretty well and ARE working together. So much so that I think that they all agree that they just don't really wanna be a part of the tournament and then they train together and everything. And if I'm not mistaken, for the second task they all decide to use a boat? To get to the Merfolk village and then just dive and get their hostage. And for the third task they were just planning on get inside the maze and do a picnic?

[chordsykat]

Joy of joys! It's the Where Can I Read the Dethkomic?! Master Post!

Hello and welcome to all the new and returning Metalocalypse fans here on Tumblr. Been quite a pile of excitement in the MTL fandom, lately, and I understand some of you have interest in reading my as-of-now 2 volume, ongoing, action/adventure/drama Metalocalypse fancomic. In order to make it easy on you all (and me, who has been providing links like crazy on an individual basis for more than a hot minute, hehe) I have compiled the following for ease-of reading!

What is Dethkomic? As it (kinda) says on @dethkomic's very own Tumblr page, this is a fancomic, written and drawn by yours truly, unassociated with anything official. As of this writing, there are two "Volumes", each consisting of 4 issues a piece. The story follows Dethklok and their all-girl-lady-centric counterparts, Baen-Shee, as they discover the magic of friendship... as they go on an epic quest to restore the kingdom of... as they deal with the highs and lows of superstardom, relationships, loss, bears, assassins, world domination, literal and emotional transformation, and the prophecy that ties them all together. I made it as a way to pass the time back when the movie was first announced and it continues to keep me entertained as we wait for the Army of the Doomstar's premiere (EDIT: We are no longer waiting and it was brutal!) Hope it does the same for you! Here's where you can read it:

Volume 1 (issues 1-4, complete):

On Tumblr: https://dethkomic.tumblr.com/komic

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2479018

Volume 2 (issues 5-8, complete):

On Tumblr: https://dethkomic.tumblr.com/komic2

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/series/3355594

And there's also a groovy entry on the whole thing over on the MTL Wiki, if you're interested. That said, hope you like it! Will there be a third Volume? Depending on how the movie goes, and whether or not interest tanks (happy to say I don't see that happening anytime soon - thank you, readers!) there just might be. :) (EDIT: There definitely WILL be a Dethkomic 3 - and here's the trailer: https://dethkomic.com/post/752759703412654080/a-wild-dethkomic-3-trailer-appears)

Happy reading! And remember: Dethkomic loves you!

[suhjihanma]

☩ 𝕻𝖊𝖈𝖚𝖑𝖎𝖆𝖗 𝕹𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖗 ☩

☩ Kink: Blood play ☩ Word Count: 1,149 words ☩ Pairing: Sukuna / Female!Reader ☩ Content Warning: Monster formation Sukuna, mentions of blood, slight mentions of possible death and dying, mind break, bodily fluids, human degradation, bruising, scaring, torturing. ☩ Author's Note: My first debut within kinktober. This is an ongoing compilation of stories written once a day. As I continue to post stories for kinktober, please note that I will ban minors who interact with my series or other stories apart from this project. Also, kink shaming is not tolerated within my fics. If the kinks that I write are not for you, please do not come with hostility in my inbox. Just simply ignore them. And, for those who are just morbidly curious about dark kinks or just love the smutty, dark content, I appreciate you guys for liking and reblogging. Reblogging helps me out tremendously as a fairly new writer for the anime fandom. Other than that, I hope you all will enjoy the daily content. I will be placing my fics on AO3 soon. I created this first story on Sunday morning.

The faint shrills of your voice were now engulfed with the soaked cloth that was around your lips. You now believe being spared was a foreign concept. How someone could leave you in a position so vulnerable that it made you fall to your knees was baffling. Humorous at best. 

Who wouldn't say that lady luck strives for you to be pleading with tears coming down your face?

A stranger to the dark-lit room that reeked with the odor of bodily fluids, your body sat aimlessly on the floor, with teardrops and mucous secretion mixed in with several droplets of blood now running along with a stream that flows steadily to your arms. You have been taught modesty, yet showing yourself nude among a man who would not give a damn about your condition seemed hopeless. Frankly, you lusted for the attention of wanting to be studied at beyond covered clothing. The eyes of a man who gazes upon a woman like yourself, to “undress” you with his eyes or some of the cliched sorts. A man like Sukuna would definitely be the one who would give you the favor. 

Especially for a woman who is decorating among bruises, welts, alongside scars.

Reality now became intertwined with hallucinations as you desperately reached for whoever’s hand. A hand that will possibly guide you among distorted illusions, or a hand that will hinder your senses towards insanity. Both options are similar causes, yet these causes are the factors for your sudden blood loss. The eyelids that were once filled with life suddenly became too heavy to bear. Exhaustion was beginning to weigh on you as you desperately called out the name that harbored fear yet of whorish passion. The amount of blood loss that you endured now was hindering your mental state. You wondered how you were still presenting yourself to this man above you, a man that only looked at you and smiled cruelly. Sukuna continued to gaze his eyes around your body, a body that was reaching its limits and now succumbs to more than torture. 

“You look like you had enough.” Sukuna jeered, his fingers slowly hovering over the pool of blood that formed over your thighs. Before, his hands caressed the top, savoring the warm skin before all became lost. His fingertips reach for the pool and the shade becomes decorated with his tips. Shades of blood were slowly beginning to turn dark as he brought one of the coated fingers to his lips, savoring the metallic taste that coated his tongue. Tiresome as it was, reacting would gain nothing from your situation. You were helpless in Sukuna’s domain. Escaping would be more than less futile in your stance. All your tired eyes could do was watch, and the body that was slowly succumbing to shock was close to giving up. His laughter and excitement made you rage inside your living hell, yet this living hell was real proof. Then again, his giddiness excites something inside you. Playing with your essence in his fingertips was truly something a man like him can toy with. Humans are descriptive as slaves, peasants, low-lives, everything at the bottom. Sukuna reminding you of your place as you bleed your life essence for him seemed appealing. A lifeless slave that you were, you couldn’t help but to whimper at his mockery.

“Please.” You whined, thighs squirming in the cold blood that sat across your legs. Exhaustion was soon to form over as you lowered your head. Sukuna looked over your falsified bow from the exhaustion and his eyes perked up, now dilated from your heightened erotic stance. 

Please, what?” He questions you. The soft pants that came from your cloth steadily continue as he looks at you with piqued interest. As he continues to look over your greatly bruised body, he smiles to himself before licking one of the open wounds that became exposed on your shoulder blade. Your face begins to tighten as Sukuna continues to entrance his tongue on the opened entrance. Pain engulfed your body as you helplessly whined out in agony before succumbing again to exhaustion. A laughter rolled out from Sukuna as he continued to shoot every weakened nerve in your body, desperately wanting you to fall further into his hellish embrace. Beyond overcoming mental break, your body could only take so much as you fell into a deep slumber, one where a voice that lingered nothing but sultriness ringer through your ears. 

“Develop a false intimacy with you? Fuck you in this pitiful pool of blood of yours? Surely that will bond us together, but it seems like you are already there.”

[trustfratedjin]

BUCKLE UP BORA HOES, I'M MAKING MY OWN FIC REC FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER 🫡

(skip the part where I searched "How to make a masterlist on Tumblr" on Google 🤡)

I honestly hope this goes well, I'm so used to only reading fanfics that I have absolutely no fucking idea how to post something myself LMFAO

Anywaaaaays, I'm still doing my own little compilation of fics I've read since I became Army (that was more than a year ago whew) and that I want everyone to read cause they're absolute masterpieces and deserve more recognition along the amazing writers of course 💜💜

BECAUSE WE DO NOT GATEKEEP IN THIS HOUSE 🤺

FIC GENRES I'LL POST:

Idol

Soulmate

Mafia

A/B/O

Royal/Historical

Hybrid

Dark

College

Fantasy

Others

MEMBERS:

OT7

Not OT7

Kim Namjoon

Kim Seokjin

Min Yoongi

Jung Hoseok

Park Jimin

Kim Taehyung

Jeon Jungkook

I honestly don't know when I'll post it, I'm still going through ALL the links I have 🫠 but hopefully it'll be soon hehe

I'll also make an AO3 Masterlist because there are some works of art that y'all NEED to read, but for now, I'll work on the Tumblr one.

Quick heads-up though, most if not ALL the fics I'll be posting contain 18+ content, so IF I SEE ANY MINOR INTERACTING WITH THE POST OR MY ACCOUNT IN GENERAL I'LL CALL YOUR PARENTS 👹

So yeah, that's about it for now 🌚

EDIT:

I MADE THE OT7 & NOT OT7 FIC REC

I MADE THE HYUNG LINE FIC REC

I MADE THE MAKNAE LINE FIC REC

Enjoy :)

[robthegoodfellow]

Step 9

pre-Harringrove, references to addiction/recovery, references to AIDS epidemic, 90s earworms

originally published in @strangerthingscharityzine | read on ao3

.

Steve didn’t know what he’d been expecting until the bells above the diner door let out a merry jingle—and there he was.

Apparently his subconscious had imagined someone gaunt, haggard. A shaky mess. Not that he’d sounded like that on the phone, despite the obvious nerves.

I’m looking for Steve Harrington? Dunno if he lives here anymore. The voice was gruff in a way that enticed, so he’d said this is Steve, and the ensuing silence was broken by a cough. Oh—uh, hi. This is… Billy Hargrove. From high school?

Sense memory knocked him flat—Hargrove taunting him at practice, pressed against him, tongue wagging; crouched above, pummeling; on his knees, clinging to consciousness, the Mind Flayer melted mush. 

Hargrove stumbled through a semi-rehearsed spiel. How he was in recovery, had reached the step of compiling the people he’d done wrong. How he wanted to make amends—could do it over the phone or in person or not at all, which he’d understand.

I’m back in Hawkins, but I can drive—and Steve had interrupted that he was in Hawkins, too. Did not say he’d been back a couple months, ever since Nance said they needed to talk.

It was a little pathetic, how eager Steve had been to meet up with a guy he hadn’t thought of in over a decade, because the only friends nearby were his and Nancy’s friends in Indianapolis.

So they’d made plans, and here they were: Steve, a soon-to-be divorcé working a soulless job at the family business, who at least had his hair, health, a measure of wealth; and Billy, not even slightly a woebegone waste case—scanning the booths with piercing baby blues, hair shorn on the sides, tawny curls piled on top. His ears glittered with metal hoops and studs, and that skin was bronze as Steve remembered. New tattoos twined his arms, disappeared under the white tank hanging loose from his shoulders, tucked into tight jeans.

He’d gained some weight—stood solid. Thick. It suited him.

Spotted, Steve raised an awkward hand, pursed awkward lips, and when Billy scooted in opposite, the exchanged hellos were—yep—awkward.

Unsure of the protocol for amends, Steve tried small talk—learned Billy lived with Max, who was caring for her ailing mother. His dad was still in the wind, vanished post-flaying while Billy was comatose.

Far as Steve knew, Billy had likewise vanished after a spell in the ICU. Rumors he’d been abducted by the government, but most figured he’d run off. Done the reasonable thing and put Hawkins behind him.

Turned out it was both. In exchange for his silence plus months in a secret lab, they’d set him up in the city of his choosing—and he’d chosen home. San Diego.

“Got an apartment, started community college…” Billy shrugged. “Over-indulged in the club scene. Couldn’t keep a job, couldn’t sleep. Tipped some bad dominoes. Hurt some good people.”

He’d been sober about a year, fully committed to the whole body-is-my-temple mentality. Been using music and exercise as his outlet whenever he itched.

“Went from bar hopping to gym bunny?” Steve suggested, and Billy flicked an assessing glance, wondering if the pun was deliberate.

It was. Steve’s mouth twitched, and Billy huffed a laugh. “Least I’m not eating rabbit food,” he said, nodding at Steve’s very sad salad.

“Hey, it’s tough diving into singlehood at our age,” he protested. “Gotta whip myself into shape.”

Billy guessed it—divorce?—and winced, commiserating. 

“How about you?” No ring, he noted. “Seeing anyone?”

“Ah—nope,” Billy replied, with a self-deprecating snort. “Not the marrying kind.”

And that… wasn’t quite what Steve asked. “Not the dating kind, either?”

Billy grimaced, conducted a short debate with the middle distance, and cleared his throat. “How about I say what I came to say and then we can… keep chatting. If you want.”

Steve pushed his plate aside, hands folded like it was a contract negotiation. “Okay.”

Deep inhale, and Billy mirrored him. “All right. So—I’ve been working backwards through people I’ve hurt, and you’re part of the last group. From when I was still a kid, technically, but old enough to do real damage. And… whether or not I need to… I want to. Like, it feels good to… purge, I guess.”

Beating Steve’s head in—that’s what he wanted to apologize for. He could have inflicted some lasting traumatic injury, hoped he hadn’t—you didn’t, Steve assured him, I’ve always been this confused—and had since developed other ways to cope with and express his anger.

“Like what?” he asked, curious. Billy blinked, lost track of his mental cue cards.

“Like—meditation,” he said, and Steve pictured him cross-legged on the beach at sunset, centering his chakra. “And journaling. And…” He scrunched his nose, flushed. “Uh—crochet.”

“Is that… when you hit balls through little hoops?”

“That’s croquet. Crochet is like—” Billy huffed, dragging hands down his cheeks. “It’s like knitting, okay? Will you let me just…?” 

Steve waved for him to continue, mimed zipping his lips. Covered his mouth at the thought of Billy knitting blankets of rage. This was serious, he scolded himself. Knock it off.

But… teasing Billy was fun. Gave him a strange thrill. Like when they used to spar at school. Banter.

Taking a deep breath, Billy found where he’d left off. “Right. Anger management. But I’ve also been re-examining my—motivations. Because for awhile, I told myself you deserved it, that I was protecting Max from shady dudes who’d lured her to the woods—”

Well, that’s fair, Steve thought, his perspective on that night radically shifting. Optics not great.

“—But I didn’t give a shit about Max,” Billy confessed. “I was just mad she got me in trouble with my dad and ruined my date… mad you lied to me about her being there, and that she’d ignored me about Sinclair, and… mad I was in Bumfuck Nowhere. So—I’m grateful you grabbed me off the kid. I’ve already made amends with him. And with Max. And I’m sorry I beat you so bad. Sorry I took it out on you.”

Steve hadn’t even remembered some of those details until Billy blew off the dust—one of those weird moments where you realize a hazy event was crystalline for someone else. Vivid and weighted with meaning.

“It’s fine, man,” Steve said, simple and easy, and Billy nodded, a fine tremor up and down. “Water under the bridge. I’m glad you’re—”

“I’m a fag,” Billy said, blunt. The eyes that rose to meet him were flat. Slate blue. “S'why I’m not the marrying kind.” A short, fractured laugh, devoid of humor. “And don’t think you’d call it dating, what I was doing. Russian roulette, more like. I should be dead several times over by now. Dunno how I’m not.”

Steve swallowed hard, couldn’t wipe the dumb shock—and the blue slate buckled, about to crack. So he revised his sentence from before. “I’m glad you’re not.” Managed a weak smile, heartfelt. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

Billy ducked, but Steve caught the flash of wet. Slate in the rain. “I don’t have it,” he muttered, single sniff. “In case you’re wondering.”

And Steve meant to say I’m glad, a broken record but a sincere one, only the thing gnawing at him since the separation hijacked his mouth. “Nancy thinks I’m in love with this guy at work. This guy who’s a man.”

Billy’s head swung up, thrown off course for maybe the fourth time since he’d entered the cafe, and Steve facepalmed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That’s not why we’re here. I keep dive bombing your… amending. Amendment?”

That might have broken Billy—the poor dude slumped forward, brow on the table.

“I really am sorry,” Steve repeated, earnest. “And I’m glad you’re okay. That’s what I meant to say—that I’m glad you’re okay.”

A long sigh, and Billy propped his chin on folded wrists. “Are you in love with this guy who’s a man?”

“No,” Steve said, heating as it dawned on him that Guy Who’s a Man bore a striking resemblance to Man Sitting Opposite. “It’s more—crippling lust.” 

“Did you cheat?”

“No!” Then, dialing his tone from offended to firm: “I don’t do that.”

“Okay.” Billy straightened, thinking. “I’m not the best person to be anyone’s gay sensei, but I’m gonna give you my number in case you need to talk about this shit. And you better be careful. Be safe if you decide to… dip your toes in the water.”

Through the wall-mounted speakers, Jewel wondered one last time who would save their souls if they wouldn't save their own, the track winding to a close, and Steve had opened his mouth to ask Do you think we could have done that, way back then? Dipped our toes in the water? when Billy scrambled upright, nope, nope, nope under the faint strains of the next tune.

“Gotta go—this song’s gonna wreck my sobriety.” Finger guns, backpedaling. “You pay up. I’ll wait outside.”

Steve cocked an ear, bemused, listening hard all the way to the register. Plucky melody, a crooning boyish falsetto, incomprehensible—then finally, impassioned: Can you tell me who will still care?

The chorus kicked in as he walked out, and Steve caught on—laughed at the sky.

Mmm bop, ba duba dop Ba du bop, ba duba dop Ba du bop, ba duba dop Ba du—

He sang along, full chested: “Yea-ee-yea-ah!”

Billy groaned, slipping him seven scribbled digits with the air of already regretting his decisions.

“Thanks,” Steve said, genuine, running his thumb across the numbers. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.” Billy swiped his curls. Unwilling smile. “Maybe.”

💛.🎶.💛

[basicallyjaywalker]

BasicallyJayWalker's 150 Follower Fic Game EXTRAVAGANZA!!!!!!

Put on your party hats and grab a kazoo folks bc we're having a party! A writing party :DDDDDDD

How it Works:

I have a set (two, actually!) of dice. Everyone may send in up to 3 dice they would like me to roll (ex. 1d6, 1d4, and 1d20 or 2d20 and 1d100)

Each of the dice corresponds to a different random element of the fic

My job, should I choose to accept it (and I must) is to write a fic with the given dice-rolled prompts in 24-72 hours after I answer the ask

I will then post the fic to tumblr (and @ the person who sent the ask) and Ao3, where they will be compiled into a special collection

Optional: the person who sent the ask will then have the same amount of time to write a fic! The catch? I will reroll the dice they sent me and send them an ask with the given prompts.

Rules and dates under the cut!

Rules:

Movieverse and showverse are fair game.

Up to 3 rerolls on any dice across all prompts. This is to make sure the prompt is something workable while also keeping the challenge

All elements of the dice must be included in the fic somehow. In the title, in the body, or in the background. However big or small doesn't matter, but you have to include all 3 things somehow

Nothing 18+. This is self-explanatory

Some requests permitted. Want a specific side character, villain, ship, or other thing included? One special requests may be made on each ask!

Pilots through DR S1 are fair game. I know DR S2 is releasing soon, but in the interest of keeping things spoiler free, we're going to be leaving it out.

Dates:

Asks may be sent between Tuesday, April 2nd and Tuesday, April 30th

The last day to complete an optional fic is Tuesday, May 7th

Prizes:

Should you choose to complete an optional challenge fic of your own, you have the chance to win one of three prizes. Winners and prices will be announced one week after the final fic is submitted

1st Place: one long fic with any elements of your choosing

2nd Place: one medium fic with any elements of your choosing

3rd Place: one short fic with any elements of your choosing

What Do the Dice Mean?

d4: Length

Flash (<500), short (500-1000), medium (1000-2500), or long (2500-5000)

d6: Core Ninja

Kai, Jay, Cole, Zane, Lloyd, or Nya

d8: Music

Whatever number it lands on, skip that many times on Spotify DJ and use the song that comes up

d10: Random Word

Whatever number it lands on, go into this random work generator and generate that many words to use in the fic

d12: Random AU

Whatever number it lands on, set the fic in that AU from a list I have

d20: Random Trope

Whatever number it lands on, include that trope from a list I have

d100: Random Quantity

Include the number between 1-100 that is rolled

[rosainta]

Team Fortress 2: MEGA Art Dump!

Finished January 26th, 2024 at 8:54PM, Home

(Post notes at end!)

Page #1: ROBLOX ‘Free Draw’ : “Miss Pauling - Full Body”

Page #2: ROBLOX ‘Free Draw’ : “Speeding Bullet (Sniper x Scout)”

Pages #3 and 4: Experimental sketches : “TF2 Comics Art Style Analysis [Miss Pauling, Sniper, Scout]”

Pages #5 and 6: Experimental sketches : “Miss Pauling Comic Style Analysis + Reference”

Page #7: Twitch Stream Sketch: “What is on Merasmus’s Sweater?!”

Pages #8, 9 and 10: Wallpaper : “Team Fortress 2 Personalized Wallpapers”

Pages #11 and 12: Spotify Playlist Cover : “Miss Pauling’s Mercenary Picks & Tribute to the Wild and Free”

~ * ~

Post Notes:

Hello world!

Yesterday during classes, I did some character analysis from the Team Fortress 2 comics, and while going through the work afterwards, I realized that I had of old art from before that I didn’t share yet - so, here they are!

This is basically just a compilation of some of my unpublished “refined” (or at least post-worthy) TF2 art dating back to May 2023.

A few of them were made without a lot of reference (like the ROBLOX ‘Free Draw’ ones), with a few disproportionate limbs (Miss Pauling: Reference Sheet) and using artwork from other artists (in the wallpapers & Spotify Playlist covers - taken from TF2 official comics & unknown artists [please message me if you know them so I can credit them!], but seeing as they didn’t ressemble chicken scratch or effortless scribbles that badly, I decided to post them anyway!

I’m quite proud with how some of them came out, specifically the ROBLOX ‘Free Draw’ ones and the wallpapers, because I worked pretty hard on them and was able to display / use them afterwards, so I’m happy to be able to show that to you as well!

Of course, there’s always room for improvement (considering the observations from the paragraph above), so I will continue to strive for betterment moving forward (specifically anatomy and expression practice).

I’ll try to keep you posted whenever I can! There’s more to come very soon.

Hope you enjoyed my mini burst of a TF2 gallery :-)

(For more quirky content, follow me here on some of these platforms! (I’ll eventually make an account list post so keep your eyes peeled for that 👀)

• TWITCH: RosainTWA [empty at the moment!]

• X (Twitter): RosainXA

• YOUTUBE: rosainquivan

• BANDLAB: RosainBLA

• AO3: RosainAO3 [also empty, but check out the ‘Bookmarks’ section for great fic recommendations!]

• ROBLOX: RainAtGames

… and more to be (eventually) added!)

~ Rosain Quivan

Credits: Team Fortress 2 by Valve, ‘Free Draw!’ by Free Draw! on ROBLOX, Unknown artists (Pages #11 and 12)

Image source: Rosain Quivan,

Created by Rosain Quivan [Cross-posted on Amino ( Rosain Quivan )]