#ta winners

[introspectivememories]

[downisupandupisdown]

Marie-Josée Ta Lou-Smith 1st in 100m at Jamaica Athletics Invitational. 2024

[lookedlikethebins]

bestie you MUST write that scene now this was absolutely gorgeous delicious scrumptious

imagine matty making conversation about a random topic w somebody who is an absolutely huge popstar and he is just ✨not aware✨ who they even are

okay okay bestie maybe you've convinced me... maybe i've been convinced... i think Very Proud and Happy george is just so lovely.

also, now, imagine matty at the red carpet chumming it up with a woman who has come up to wait behind him while george is being asked a question about the newest album he's helping produce and if his Boys/Band are going to feature on it (of course they are. "ft. The 1975" is a blessing to every pop star at that point). no one really notices either of them off to the side of george's interview and they get on fast. she's hilarious but also matty is so nervous he'll laugh at anything. at one point, she reaches over to touch his arm and say she's happy he's here with george--and cameras start clicking. matty is startled at the ripple effect of one camera to the next drawing attention to him-- or more important, maybe, the woman talking to him. and how does she know george?

eventually george's attention gets pulled away by the noise and he is delightfully surprised to see who matty is talking with. and oh the minute they hug, every camera starts clicking and people start calling their names for The Shot of such pop magnitude interacting. george pulls matty in close to the two of them so he can hear over the commotion, and introduces him to her, and her to him. matty is polite but slightly confused and on-edge and waits until he and george are being waved off the carpet and into the main event hall to ask who she is.

george blinks, waiting to see if maybe matty is fucking with him. when matty continues to look at him with complete sincerity, he slowly turns to the large screen displaying Nominees for Best Female Pop Act and points at the third name before looking back at matty, "her. you were just talking to her."

(matty, rather than asking the floor to swallow him whole again, begins to think those sort of things should take a page out of faculty events and give everyone a nametag...)

[iamrizaka]

How many titan side demigods survive the hunger games? Do you think the gods accept more than one winner? I can't imagine that there's a lot of them. And there are a lot of gods interested in the winning demigods.

I like to think that there've been seven games in total, from each game one winner.

Right now we know about Lee, Alabaster and Ethan. I haven't thought about other winners, but they are here too.

[tezerenotameiki]

i dont have polls but when i do what if i did a shuuen one

[having-conniptions]

Hot take: The Hidden Character peaked in episode 8. Everything after that was just... not it

[myillicitaffair]

Somethin’ Stupid | Charles Leclerc

Summary: while being interviewed by his former lover, bottled up feelings find their way out.

Warnings: english not being my mother tongue, lots of angst, some swearing, arguments.

Notes: this is the first time i’m ever posting anything on here, i hope you enjoy it xx

1.5k words.

Letting myself fall into his abrasive webs was surprisingly easy. His green orbs, pervasive and curious, piercing my soul.

We had our ups and downs, unbridled passion slowly dying with each tear shed, magnetic attraction burning my lungs.

We found ourselves in a hiatus, which found a way of prolonging itself further than I would have liked to. Perhaps he managed to keep himself occupied with his busy schedule; trainings, special dietary requirements, public relations… as for me, I rather hold my silence.

My routine was overflowed with his voice, with how much I missed his touch on my lower back, guiding me through the crowds, our hands intertwined in a tacit promise.

However, life demanded to continue with apparent normality. Dinner parties surrounded by friends, rounds of drinks avoiding alcohol… The last thing I needed was to degrade myself into a melancholic drunkenness.

Was he also having a hard time with the abysmal coldness on the other side of the bed or the loneliness of not having anyone to dilute your sorrow over morning coffee with?

My days had fallen into a sort of routine; waking up while missing him, showering while missing him, having breakfast while missing him… I think you get how thing are.

This particular morning, Silverstone was extraordinarily cloudy, the mist engulfing my view from the hotel room. How fitting!

Running away from my surreptitious misfortunes, I head downstairs, soaking up the competitive environment prior to every race. Emboldened as an agitated swarm, my colleges and me descended on the designated circuit.

Tedious security controls accompanied the anticipated fun, a hammer already pounding into my head at the thought of seeing him face to face once more.

Walking towards the space where the press was condensed, I check the days schedule for the last time. I am lucky enough to maintain friendly interactions with most drivers, so as to achieve fluid interviews, keeping the audience on the edge of their seats.

The only reason I can find as to why that fateful name is written on my list of drivers to interview was that God and I clearly have some unresolved business… funny timing to make me pay the price though!

A lump gets stuck in my throat just by thinking about it, preventing regular air flow.

The countdown only stuns me, even though my duty doesn’t start until the last lap. The smell of burnt rubber, product of speeding wheels, fills my lungs while intoxicating my nostrils.

The continuous lights turn red with overwhelming precision as seconds go by, lightning up the faces hidden with baklavas and iconic helmets.

Unconsciously (or maybe not so much), my eyes crawl back to the speeding number “16” that, red and furious, slides around the circuit while attempting to memorize every bump and curve along the way.

Chasing the sequence with collective looks of astonishment, a collision comes rushing down, disabling Piastri and Norris by the arrogance that only clear disagreements gives you.

Without further issues, the race concludes with a podium conformed by both Red Bull Racing drivers, trailed by seven time world champion Lewis Hamilton.

As possessed by group madness, the journalists rush into the victors. Microphone in hand, cameras shadowing us, content hunger gushing from our pores.

Driven by a exacerbated sadness, I shift my focus from the winners to him, returning my gaze with clouded tear ducts, bottled up frustration visible in his features.

With a touch on my shoulder, I’m brought back to reality by a co-worker, who, with a subtle shift of her head signals my awaiting obligations.

I head towards my press conference, where I take a seat with my name on it, psyching myself up for what I’m sure will be the most awkward interview of my whole career.

Dressed in Ferrari clothing and constantly stalked by flashes, both pilots near the platform where I await. They settle into their designated spots, holding still until the cameraman says otherwise.

I steal one last glance at my premeditated questions and hide my true feelings behind a focused frown.

“Welcome dear viewers! We find ourselves in the eleventh race of the year, accompanied once more by our friends from Ferrari, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz.”

I desperately try stabilizing the noticeable shake in my voice.

“Friend”- the Monegasque interrupts my monologue with a mocking remark.

The puzzled look his teammate throws in his direction doesn’t go unnoticed by the former, who insists on jointing his glistening irises with mine.

I decide to ignore the brief impasse in the speech, running away from his calculated sarcasm as I force the corners of my mouth into an attempted smile.

“so, Carlos… do you think driving behind two cars that crushed ruined your performance?”- I question, tripping over my words under Charles´s scrutiny.

“It´s safe to say it wasn’t an unexpected accident”- the Spaniard pronounces, doing his best at minimalizing the awkwardness- “for at least a couple of laps, Oscar and Lando were teasing each other, clearly trying to gain advantage over the other. They were lucky enough neither of them got hurt.”

I nod absent minded, vibrating due to the pounding against my ribcage.

“Charles, what can you tell us about your engineers’ strategy for this race?”- I swallow loudly, praying he can´t notice the mesmerizing effect he has on me.

“I guess you could say I’m not entirely satisfied with my team´s execution this season”- he confesses, minimizing the tingles of frustration running down his spine- “It would also be quite unfair dumping the blame on my team when my failure has more to do with me letting my emotions get the best of me.”

The tension is intercepted by a longing sigh I didn’t know I was withholding. The world seems to stop in its euphoria simply to hang in his every sentence.

“A broken heart is no joke… even less when you have to patiently wait for the piece they decide to donate you”- he reproaches without saying my name but making it perfectly clear that I was indeed the recipient of his raw address.

My anxious movements become motionless, forgetting the when and where, just to focus on the displeasure bubbling in my stomach.

“Guys, I really don´t think it’s appropriate to discuss this now”- intercepts the Madrilenian, proposing a ceasefire.

Mi hand goes up in the air before I can help it, shutting him up mercilessly.

“I wonder where I must´ve learned it…”- I reply, drowning in the unexpected harshness of my tone- “don´t forget who was the one to suggest this ´no strings attached´ bullshit between us.”

The drivers face shines with a scandalous blush in response to my bravado. Right here and there, I comprehend the dept of his anger, making its way through his collarbones, until it climbs up his cheeks.

“Just because I thought that’s what you wanted”- he spits out his resentful response.

From the corner of my vision, I perceive Carlos´s discomfort by reading his body language; the friction of wiping away the sweat stagnant on his hands, his shoulders pouring forward in a clumsy attempt of hiding from the cameras, his chair weakly shaking under the constant bouncing of his extremities.

Madness atrophies my reasoning, blinding me enough as to not have merci on his apprehension. I took this way too far, it would be useless to swallow my feelings.

“how in the world could you think our agreement benefitted me? Really, Charles, you couldn’t be any more stupid!”- I scream back, jumping up from my seat.

The swing of my feet gets ahead of my thoughts, allowing me to run away from the premature conflict before it blows up in the air.

Mi face heats up from the warmth of my own tears, that start rolling down my cheeks. With each involuntary spasm of my jaw, sobs escape my gasps for air. I don’t dare to slow down.

“Can you please just listen to me?”- a voice behind me shouts, trying to stand by my side.

I turn around to face his scrunched up brows.

“you have nothing else left to make up. You may convince somebody with the whole ´heartbreak boy´ façade you’ve got going on, but you have genuinely driven me mad”

“You and I both now that isn’t true! Have you ever wondered why I always seem to take a step back after every show of affection?”- he manages to freeze me to the core- “How come you never noticed my excessive efforts to stay away from you? I can’t even behave like a functional human being if I’m not feeling you, touching you, having you with me.”

In the middle of the paddock, with every pair of eyes set on us, events unfold the way I’ve been dreaming of, however I can´t even react.

“I know I´m not in a position to ask you anything, but please, strip me from the torment that uncertainty means… even if that means to completely destroy me”- he whispers with renewed fragility.

My smirk slowly becomes uncontrollable laughter, reducing me to unbridled chuckles. I shelter the vestiges of my giggling in between his arm, until It ceases in its intensity.

Without noticing, I search for his lips with my own, craving the heat they irradiate.

“I think you know perfectly well how my soul aches for you”- I manage to sneak in between kisses, stumbling across his smile, displayed in all its glory.

[the-amazing-animated-circus]

DTIYS Results!

Greetings, circus goers! After so many amazing submissions, it is now time to find out whom I most favoured!

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First off, Losers!

"What's that?" you say! "Is this not a friendly art competition?"

Well, kids, there are winners and losers in every game. You either die a winner or live long enough to see yourself become a loser. I hope you take that to heart and it affects you deeply for the rest of your adult life.

Anyway! Give a huge round of boos for our loser:

@sm-baby!

Booooooooo, boooooo you suck boooooooo- ahem. Let's not waste too much of our time on this... charlatan, children.

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RUNNERS UP!

There were so many amazing pieces with their own unique strengths that I wanted to shine some light on!

So, my favourite artists aside from first place were...

(Drumroll)

@grimmtells, who not only made this wonderful putdown of our favourite jester, but also made a toon of their own!

You don't know how grateful I am that people love this au enough to make their own characters! Thank you for your little ego-tripping maniac into this jolly jack-in-the-box!

@mangotangerinepastry, for their lovely rendering and animation!

Trust me when I say it was a very difficult decision between you and our first place winner!

@dreamybasil, who made this adorable comic!

Poor Pomni, suffering from success.

And finally,

@notyesterdays-era with some Pomni-ception!

He's a little confused, but he's got spirit.

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Alright, ladies and Gents! the moment you've been waiting for, our first place winner:

(more extravagant drumroll)

@cruising-cats with this amazing animation!

A fully coloured background, the spotlight fading in and out, the floating bubbles and of course, Pomni and our Plucky performer braving the tightrope, this was most certainly my favourite interpretation!

Be sure to message me with an image reference of what you'd like me to sketch!

Thank you all so much for participating! I honestly never expected this au to get as big as it has, so I hope this reboot will be worth the wait! (and hopefully draw in new fans!)

Ta Ta for now!

[koji-haru]

Pocky Day 11/11

[Something short for pocky day! I am late!! But! It's still pocky day in certain parts of the world sooo.]

Adam eyed the various shops that lined the pristine streets of Heaven. Restaurants, convenience stores, food markets and cafés to both his left and right, offering a variety of food stuffs from full course meals to quick on the go snacks. Today was an oddly easy day for Adam, Sera somehow didn’t have much work for him to do and before he even knew it, he was already done with his work for the day before midday had even arrived. Wanting to share the goodness of his day, Adam decided to pay his husband a surprise visit at work and bring him lunch. He fished his phone out of the pockets of his robes; he had about thirty more minutes before Michael should be heading out for lunch. Good. That was plenty of time. 

The soft chimes of a bell rang by the café’s entrance as Adam entered. It was a café that both particularly liked the food of, or well, Adam liked the food the place served; Michael liked everything and anything really to the point that Adam often found himself questioning if he had tastebuds to begin with. Thankfully, it did seem that Michael had some semblance of taste, though oddly enough, the archangel apparently had a taste for bitter things. 

He quickly ordered things that he thought Michael would enjoy, a chicken taco salad and a cup of americano – no sugar and with just a tiny splash of milk. Of course he also got something for himself, cream puff pastries and a salted caramel frappé with cream on top. No, it wasn’t ‘lunch’ per say, but he didn’t care, looking at the bitter coffee he was bringing Michael made him crave sweets just to offset the bitterness that he could already imagine on his tongue. 

Just as he was heading towards the door, he saw some winners and heaven borns alike sitting on one of the crowded tables of the café, trying to be quiet with their loudly hushed voices, but their giggling could be heard all over the place regardless. The winners seemed to be teaching the heaven borns something. Something exciting it seemed if gold that dusted the heaven borns’ faces were of any indication. Ever the curious and nosy first man, Adam strained his ears, though he didn’t have to try very hard, to listen in on the younger angels’ conversation. 

Pocky game, huh?

The door to Michael’s office slammed open just as he was setting his papers aside to get ready to head out. Immediately, he knew who his esteemed guest was. There was only really one angel who would brazenly enter his office uninvited and unannounced, and yet overly comfortable and carefree. A soft smile immediately graced his lips as his husband’s tall figure and overly conspicuous appearance walked through his now wide open door. 

“Surprise!!,” Adam yelled out, tossing his mask casually on the small couch near the door. “I got you lunch!” He handed the food he bought earlier along with the coffee, a wide grin on his face.

“Oh, thank you, Adam,” Michael smiled sweetly as he accepted the gift, genuinely touched by the gesture no matter how many times he received it. “You didn’t have to, I know you’re also busy…”

“But I did!,” Adam exclaimed, chest puffed out, hands on his hips, beaming proudly. “Aren’t I just the best?” 

“The absolute best, nothing and no one could compare,” answered Michael with a soft loving gaze.

A faint gold dusted Adam’s cheeks at the words and look that Michael was giving. Even after all these years, the archangel was as sickly sweet as ever and Adam, ever the lovestruck, flusters all the same. Adam lightly shook his head and slapped his cheeks, trying to drown out the increasing loudness of his beating heart. No! He had a purpose today! And he was going to achieve it! 

“By the way…,” he said, subverting the topic as he fished out something in a small paper bag. “Ta-da!!” He held out a small box in front of Michael with a picture of small biscuits covered in some sort of green coating. 

“Pocky?,” mused Michael. 

“They’re like biscuits dipped in chocolate, but I got you this green tea flavour thing instead,” Adam explained.

“Oh, okay.” Michael never had them before, but they seemed like a nice sweet snack. “I’ve never heard of it before.” He reached out for the box of sweets in front of him to examine it more, but Adam pulled it quickly away before he even had a chance to touch it. He blinked at Adam, confused, like a child being denied of something that was promised.

“Uh uh!” Adam waggled his finger in front of Michael. “I want to try a game with this one.” He tore open the box and the plastic that contained the biscuits inside, tossing the rubbish unceremoniously into the bin nearby. With one hand, he placed the coated end of the biscuit carefully between his teeth and then leaned forward towards Michael, his arms resting on the desk, back arched slightly, a playfully seductive glimmer in his eyes. 

“Uhh.” Michael froze on his seat, his confusion told him to lean back, but his wants told him to remain still or even lean forward as well.

 “You’re supposed to hold onto the other end with your teeth too,” Adam grinned, the pocky stick still carefully between his teeth. “And then we bite it until we meet in the middle. But be careful not to break it, otherwise it’s game over.” Then he leaned even closer towards Michael, almost poking his lips with the biscuit.

A light golden hue began to bloom across Michael’s starry cheeks but he relented to his husband’s request regardless, not that he wasn’t happy to oblige. Placing the biscuit lightly between his teeth, Michael made the grave mistake of looking at Adam’s eyes, a hotly molten gold simmering with enticing promises. Instantly, his breath hitched and he froze up on the spot. Despite that, or maybe exactly because of his reaction, Adam began biting the biscuit, getting even closer to his lips with every bite; their breaths against each other, hot and warm. For every inch that they got closer, the golden flush that peppered across Michael’s cheeks only seemed to glow brighter and brighter, while Adam mostly remained cool and relaxed, with only a faint golden hue over his own cheeks. Throughout the entire ordeal, Adam kept his alluring hold over Michael until suddenly, only an inch of the sweet biscuit remained between them. 

Michael barely moved during the entire process, a slight sweetness from the pocky ran over his tongue, but it was a different kind of sweetness that he craved; one that had an inch of biscuit acting as a barrier between them. The tension hung heavily in the air between them, and neither dared to move. It was frustrating, Michael wasn’t sure if he could hold on like this much longer, he could already feel himself overheating from all the teasing, but even worse was that Adam seemed all too eager to keep him at bay, dangling sweet promises right in front of him. 

Eventually, Michael mustered up the strength to overcome the small gap between them. And then, with a soft cracking sound, their connection broke. The biscuit was now broken into two, one for each of them. Michael looked down at the other half of the biscuit that was between Adam’s lips, and it was like a bucket of freezing water was thrown at him. Oh no.

“Oh, well that’s unfortunate.” Adam leaned away, licking some of the icing off of his lips, pleasantly sweet on his tongue. “I guess that’s game over.” He looked down at his husband, who remained sadly seated on his chair looking like a kicked puppy. He was half tempted to leave him hanging there, but he was feeling extra nice today. 

“Luckily…,” he picked up the box of pocky again and pulled out another biscuit, placing it between his teeth, a playful grin on his lips. “...we have plenty to practise on.”

[idollete]

ESTEBAN PAI DE MENINA VOCÊ ME PAGA CAMILAAQAAAAAAQQAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

⭐️ a noite toda. fem!reader x esteban kukuriczka

🪐 minha masterlist

» cw: smut! por favor só interaja se for +18! ; kuku!dilf pai de menina; leitora!milf; oral male e fem recieving; face fucking; sexo desprotegido; p in v; shower sex; dirty talk/praise; nipple play; face sitting; hair pulling; multiple orgasms; kuku!sex deprived [gemidos].

» wn: fiz esse one shot baseado em um ask que eu mandei pra diva @idollete uma vez, também me inspirei na diva @geniousbh na forma de escrever/formatação! mais um kuku dilf nesse perfil né meninas mas o que fazer quando sou apenas uma garota? 🎀 essa foto dele sem camisa me deixa absolutely feral OREM POR MIM estoy loca e precise dele agora 🪦🪦💀🕊🕊🕊

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kuku!dilf que você viu pela primeira vez na praia, no dia que tinha decidido levar sua filha de manhã para que ela pudesse brincar na areia e no mar enquanto o sol não estivesse tão forte. sua menina tomava uma água de coco sentadinha na canga na sua frente, ela percebeu a língua familiar que a menininha na barraca perto falava com o pai. “mamãe, eles estão falando espanhol”, a observação dela te fez olhar para ele pela primeira vez, apesar de ser muito bonito, não era isso que estava focada agora. “por que você não chama ela pra brincar então, chiquita?”.

kuku!dilf que observava sua filha chamar a dele para montar castelinhos de areia juntos, já que elas falavam a língua em comum. o pai da sua filha era colombiano, e, apesar de não manterem uma relação tão boa, você fez questão de ensinar a língua para a garotinha.

kuku!dilf que se aproximou de você com um sorriso educado no rosto, estendeu a mão para se apresentar, e te contou como ficou feliz da sua filhinha ter convidado a dele para brincar, já que ele era tímida que nem ele quando criança. depois, te falou que eram argentinos e tinham chegado há alguns dias no Brasil, e que ele já estava encantado pelo país.

kuku!dilf que se divorciou quando a filha ainda era bebê e tinha a guarda integral dela, e que ela é o mundo inteiro dele, e dava pra ver: a bolsa organizadinha e preparada para qualquer situação, a roupinha rosa e o cabelinho arrumado. ele também te contou que já tinha gastado muito dinheiro na praia porque não conseguia negar qualquer coisa que ela pedisse e também que pensou em vestir um short rosa para combinar com a filha, mas desistiu porque talvez seria demais. riu quando você explicou que “pra gringo é mais caro” e corou quando você disse que o short rosa seria fofo.

kuku!dilf que se encarregou de levar as meninas para o mar, e que fez você sentir coisas fortíssimas ao ver ele, não só fazendo elas rirem tanto, como também ao carregar as duas em só um braço com muita facilidade.

kuku!dilf que riu quando você disse que ele tinha que passar um bom exemplo para as meninas e passar filtro solar, porque já estava vermelho. ele que, surpreendentemente, ficou mais vermelho ainda quando você passou filtro no rosto dele, e fechou os olhos estrategicamente para não ficar te encarando. também, teve que cruzar as mãos no colo depois de você ter passado o protetor nas costas dele, ainda mais depois que você elogiou as costas cheias de sardinhas.

kuku!dilf que te chamou para almoçar com as meninas quando o sol começou a ficar muito forte. e no caminho do restaurante, carregou as bolsas dele e suas, enquanto andava de mãos dadas com a menininha loira. também precisou da sua ajuda para pedir no restaurante, te fez rir o almoço inteiro e, no final, não deixou você pagar sua parte da conta. e quando você agradeceu novamente antes de irem para caminhos distintos e propôs uma festa do pijama para as meninas no seu apartamento, ele aceitou com um sorriso enorme no rosto.

kuku!dilf que chegou no seu apartamento com a mochilinha da filha arrumada e um vinho tinto, te cumprimentou com um beijinho no rosto e sua filha com um abraço educado. também sugeriu que o filme da noite fosse “rio”.

kuku!dilf que carregou as meninas até o quarto depois que elas caíram num sono pesado no sofá com menos de 20 minutos de filme. e sorriu ao ver você na cozinha e as duas taças de vinho já servidas, brindou e repetiu “tim tim” logo após de você, apesar de não saber muito bem o que significa.

kuku!dilf que quando estavam sentados no sofá bebendo, fazia carinho na sua coxa, com o rosto deitadinho no sofá enquanto te admira. e, por mais que queria muito te beijar ali mesmo, quem tomou a iniciativa foi você: chegou mais pertinho dele e falou que a boca tava sujinha de vinho, passando o polegar nos lábios roxinhos entreabertos e manteve a mão ali no rosto, só aproximando sua boca da dele, finalmente selando um beijo depois de querer fazer isso o dia inteiro.

kuku!dilf que não perde tempo em te colocar no colo dele, segurando seu rosto enquanto te beija e bagunçando seu cabelo de levinho, as mãos grandes descendo lentamente para sua cintura e te apertando ali quando você move o quadril pra frente, gemendo baixinho dentro da sua boca.

kuku!dilf que diz “não faço isso há muito tempo”, e sorri quando você responde que ele tem a noite inteira pra matar a vontade, enquanto fica de joelhos na frente dele. quando sente sua mão o masturbar por cima da calça, joga a cabeça para trás e xinga baixinho, levanta os quadris para te ajudar a retirar a calça e a cueca e não consegue tirar os olhos de você desde o momento que você lambeu toda a extensão dele antes de enfiar ele todo na boca.

kuku!dilf que, a princípio, segura teu cabelo em forma de um rabo de cavalo para que seus fios não te atrapalhem, mas com o jeito que você chupa ele tão bem e ainda usa as mãos para envolver a parte do membro que não cabe na sua boca, segura seus cabelos com mais força e começa a fuder sua boca. e ele não se entrega aos próprios olhos quase se fechando de tanto prazer, fixado na sua boca e seus olhinhos lacrimejados, te observando com o olhar caído enquanto morde a gola da camisa, a fim de abafar os gemidos e xingamentos que saem da boca dele.

kuku!dilf que fala que vai gozar e puxa seu cabelo te afastando, se masturbando enquanto esfrega a cabecinha na sua língua de fora, para que possa ver ela ficar toda sujinha de porra.

kuku!dilf que afaga sua bochecha enquanto se recupera do orgasmo, e te acompanha com o olhar quando você se levanta, chega pertinho da boca dele só para sussurrar “vem me pegar no quarto”, e balança a cabeça com um sorrisinho sacana nos lábios enquanto te vê andar até o quarto, safada. cultiva uma marra enquanto levanta as calças e anda a alguns passos atrás de você até o cômodo, entra no quarto e se depara com você sentada na cama, morde o lábio ao fechar a porta, não deixa de te encarar.

kuku!dilf que se deitou em cima de você lentamente enquanto te beijava, as mãos grandes passeavam pelo seu corpo: seguravam seu rosto, enforcavam levemente seu pescoço, apertavam seus peitos e sua bunda por cima da roupa. as mãos logo se encarregaram de te despir, te deixando só de calcinha. beliscava seus mamilos enquanto apertava seus seios, soltando um arzinho pelo nariz enquanto te encoxava. passando as mãos pelos seus braços, pegou suas mãos e juntou elas sobre a sua cabeça, te imobilizando enquanto chupava seus peitos e descia com a mão livre até sua calcinha, fazendo círculos sobre o tecido molhado.

kuku!dilf que só parou de chupar seus peitos porque você levantou os quadris para que pudesse se esfregar conta a ereção dele, desesperada para que ele te fudesse logo. sorriu sacana antes finalmente de se ajoelhar entre suas pernas e retirar as roupas que vestia, deitando novamente em cima de você para te beijar, conseguia sentir ereção quente e a glande melada de pré-gozo sujar a parte interna da sua coxa. você gemeu quando sentiu ele esfregar a cabecinha na sua buceta molhada, e pediu “por favor, esteban… me fode logo” com os lábios encostados no dele.

kuku!dilf que enfiou a cabecinha enquanto analisava sua expressão, mas, covardemente, se retirou de dentro de você. rápido, te virou de bruços com muita facilidade e puxou seu quadril para cima, te deixando de quatro. “calma, bebita… a gente tem a noite toda…” disse, e logo se enfiou todo dentro de ti.

kuku!dilf que colou suas costas no peitoral dele enquanto te fodia, envolvendo a mão no seu pescoço para que seu ouvido ficasse perto da boca dele, permitindo com que ele gemesse no seu ouvido e falasse “desde que eu te vi de biquíni mais cedo, tava sonhando em te comer desse jeito… só não imaginava que sua bucetinha seria tão gostosa assim…” enquanto move a mão que estava apertando sua bunda para o seu clitóris, fazendo círculos para te fazer gozar juntinho com ele.

kuku!dilf que, depois de vocês gozarem juntinhos na cama, te chama para tomar um banho já que estão todos suados e sua bunda ficou toda suja de porra. no banho, ele te pergunta se você gostou, como se não tivesse sido claro pelo jeito que ele teve que tampar sua boca diversas vezes porque você gemia alto demais, e também o jeito que pulsava ao redor dele e revirava os olhos enquanto gozava. você acha até bonitinho a preocupação dele, dá um selinho nele e diz “gostei, muito”.

kuku!dilf que pediu para que você se virasse para que ele pudesse lavar suas costas, esfregando a esponja de banho e o sabonete cheiroso nos seus braços, ombros e lombar. depois apertava seu ombro tensionado com o polegar, fazendo massagem. descendo o carinho para sua lombar, passando as mãos na sua cintura, percebendo que você gemia baixinho ao sentir as mãos grandes no seu corpo. abaixou o corpo para que pudesse apertar suas coxas, subindo cada vez mais perto da sua buceta, ainda sensível mas que ficou molhada com o toque, e ele fez questão de pontuar isso. “já tá molhadinha de novo, bebita? que linda…” enquanto te dedava lentinho.

kuku!dilf que empurrou seu corpo molhado contra a parede gelada para que pudesse resolver o problema entre suas pernas, e agora, entre as dele também. se empurrou lentamente para dentro de você, sugando o ar pelos dentes cerrados e sorrindo junto com você ao te preencher, mais uma vez. dessa vez, te fodia devagarinho enquanto apertava seus peitos com apenas uma mão, e a outra envolvia sua cintura, segurando seu corpo molinho de tão bem que tinha sido fudida há uns minutos atrás, do mesmo jeito que estava sendo fudida agora, o barulho das peles se chocando preenchia o banheiro. ele segurava seu cabelo com condicionador enquanto gemia no seu ouvido.

kuku!dilf que, dessa vez, gozou na parte interna da sua coxa, e se ajoelhou depois para limpar a sua pele com sabão, enquanto fazia massagem nas suas coxas. terminou o banho antes, se secou e esperou sentado na cama por você. e que quando te viu sair de toalha e com os cabelos molhados, exalou um ar que não sabia que estava guardado dentro de seus pulmões, não cansava de te ver, ainda mais com a nova vista: você pós banho em pé entre as pernas dele enquanto fazia carinho no cabelo levemente grisalho e molhado, e ele esfregando o rosto nos seus peitos cobertos pela toalha.

kuku!dilf que pediu para você sentar na cara dele enquanto desfazia o nózinho da sua toalha, e fez uma cara de cachorrinho abandonado depois que você disse que estava muito sensível dos últimos dois orgasmos. “por favor, nena… não vou conseguir dormir direito se não chupar sua bucetinha… deixa, vai… prometo que vou chupar gostosinho, devagarinho…” enquanto beijava sua barriga e apertava suas coxas.

kuku!dilf que não tirou os olhos de você em nenhum momento enquanto te chupava, lambuzando sua buceta toda de saliva, não se importando de molhar a barba e o bigodinho. te dava um beijo molhado ali, alternando entre lambidas extensas e chupadas nos seus lábios e clitóris. agarrava sua bunda e te incentivava a roçar contra a boca dele, empurrando seus quadris para frente e para trás, o que te deixou louca: além do jeito que ele te devorava, sentia a barba áspera contra sua pele sensível e o nariz grande bater no seu clítoris toda vez que mexia para frente.

kuku!dilf que depois de te fazer gozar mais uma vez, dormiu agarradinho com você debaixo das cobertas, depois de trancar a porta e estender as toalhas molhadas no banheiro. e de manhã, não estava ao seu lado na cama quando você acordou, só o viu novamente quando colocou uma roupa e foi ao caminho da cozinha, se deparando com as duas menininhas sentadas comendo café da manhã e ele cortando frutas. “bom dia, hermosa. dormiu bem?”, ele perguntou e te deu um beijinho na bochecha, com um sorriso no rosto de quem já sabia a resposta.

[quilavabucket]

Denizens of the Neath, the polls are in! And honeyed roses, are they fascinating! Of the two polls for favorite Neath faction, our winners are such!

Rubbery Men technically won the first and second poll with 22%

and the Bohemians barely eeked out a win over the urchins with 19%!

A point of clarification: though they may have undisputed victory against the other factions, the rubbery men did technically tie with "the other list/ WHAT men?/ not a delicious friend" option of their poll

But of course, the winners aren't what you came here for, you know in your heart of hearts which faction is most full of intrigue, and you know equally well that the other crooks and hoodlums of the Neath are, of course, allowed their incorrect opinions by the grace of the Bazaar.

So let us speak instead of that which brings us together in horrified fascination and pitying glee faster than a fresh batch of rubbery lumps: the losers bracket!!

In a piteous 3rd from last, with 0.8%: University- Summerset!

Not sure what exactly they're doing so much worse than Benthic (5.8), but I'm sure the dean will be having words with the staff about this.

In an unfortunate penultimate with 0.7%: Society!

To anyone paying attention, not too surprising an outcome, those Society tend to come off as a tad stuffed shirt. And besides! if exclusivity is your entire deal, an exclusive favorance makes sense.

And finally! Last and certainly least with a deserved 0%: Constables!

Maybe it's the start in prison, maybe it's the rampant lawbreaking amongst the denizens of the Neath, whatever the cause, you heard it here delicious friends: Fallen London says ACAB!

This was great fun, let's do it again sometime. Ta!

[firstkanaphans]

I know this post is only for like two people, but I’m going to make it anyway. So, my obsession with Dead Friend Forever finally reached critical levels and I resorted to binge-watching The Hidden Character just to get more content. For those that don’t know, The Hidden Character (which they literally call “THC”) was the reality show Be On Cloud used to cast DFF. It is bad. Like really bad. And not in a it’s-so-bad-it’s-good-type way. It’s one of the most exploitative pieces of media I have ever watched. I walked into it with a favorable view of BOC, Mile, Apo, and Pond (the CEO), and walked out of it hating all of them.

A small collection of things that happened over the 11-episode run:

Everyone was told that they had to share every single aspect of their life with the viewers or they would be eliminated. And, in fact, the first person eliminated was told that it was because he wasn’t being open enough with the audience. They filmed these boys—one of whom was only seventeen at the time—talking explicitly about their sex lives. Which is, of course, fine to talk about. It’s not fine to air it on television! Even some of the games themselves contained sexually suggestive content (i.e. Which do you prefer "eating" with—your hands or your mouth? If you were to cheat on your significant other, would it be just sex or a full-blown affair?)

During the first part of the show, everyone had a secret that the other players were supposed to guess. One of the player’s secret was that he used to be homophobic. (Questionable casting for a company that only hires men, but I digress). He was praised for having changed his mind. In contrast, JJay’s secret was that he was raised in an abusive household and had once hit his father. Pond crucified the poor guy for this. He made him sit there in front of the whole cast sobbing and apologize for hitting his dad who was an abusive asshole.

After the first half of the show—which served absolutely no purpose at all—we finally move onto the acting portion. This is, after all, supposed to be a talent competition. The judges were so mean. Especially Apo. He was like the Simon Cowell of BOC. There was no constructive component to their criticism. The fact that any of these people are still acting is honestly unbelievable. I would have gone home and cried myself to sleep and then never stepped foot on a stage again.

At one point, each of the groups was assigned a scene from KinnPorsche to act out (because BOC very clearly owns no other IP). One of the pairs was given the scene where Porsche gives Kinn a handjob in the bathroom. I wish I was kidding. 

The judges constantly told the contestants to make their scenes feel new and different but any time the actors actually tried to change anything, they complained it was “too” different and the original script was already perfect so who were they to think they could create something better. Once again, Apo and Mile, the original actors of these scenes, are the ones judging them! Like of course they like their version better. What is even happening??

And finally, the whole fucking thing was rigged for Ta to win. Like don’t get me wrong, I love Ta and I think he did a great job, but he was the only one who came into that competition with a built-in fanbase and the winner was chosen by popular vote.

It was all just…baffling. Especially from a company that claims to be trying to change the industry. Like if you want the industry to stop being so exploitative to its actors, maybe start with yourself? It also makes those condescending “how dare you watch our shows just for the NC scenes” press releases they do every week even more annoying.

I have no clue what the reaction to this show was while it was airing but god I hope they never do it again. It literally makes me feel so weird watching DFF now. I feel like those poor kids are being held hostage. Maybe CEO Pond’s been the one under the mask the whole time 🔪

[judesmoonbeauty]

2024 Villains Festival Prologue(s) ♛

This includes the exclusive Villains Festival Team's Prologue that was released on X. Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. Also, feel free to ignore my random commentary.

Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with///

Victor: Ta-da! Her Majesty the Queen has announced an extra bonus payment!

Liam: What, we've never gotten a bonus before? (Damn, that's sad.)

Jude: It's a drop in the bucket anyway, right?

Victor: The amount is on the letter from her Majesty the Queen.

Victor: It seems we're all paid the same amount of money, so let's split this money with everyone...how's that?

Kate: Is something wrong?

Victor: Oh my god! This is a serious situation....The amount is only divisible by 9!

Ellis: Isn't it for 10 people because Kate is here too?

Victor: She is separate from you all and is already paid.

Kate: Yes! I've been taken well care of.

Victor: So, if we divide by 9, the remainder is....

Alfons: It's a pain in the ass to worry about the leftovers, isn't it?

Alfons: Instead of being so tightfisted, why don't we just have a bonus battle?

Elbert: A bonus battle?

Alfons: The winner should take all the bonuses.

Alfons: It saves you the trouble of dividing by 9, and above all, it's fun right?

Harrison: Winner...What game are we going to play? If it's poker, I don't think I'll lose.

Roger: How about a beer drinking contest? You get to drink and compete, it's a win-win.

Liam: They're both steering the game to their own advantage....it has to be fair, right?

Victor: Then, how about we let our Fairy Tale Writer, decide?

Victor: Let's make the supreme evil who steals her heart the winner and take all the bonuses! That's it!

Kate: What? I can't be responsible for that!

Victor: Don't worry! Her Majesty will make the final decision based on Kate's evaluation. You'll be fine!

Victor: I won't hold you solely responsible. So.....

Kate: …...

Victor: Hey!

Kate: Okay, I understand.

Victor: Thank you, Kate!

(When you look at me with such joyful eyes like sparkling jewels....I won't be able to refuse.)

Victor: It's late today, so the review will start tomorrow. And.....this is for you.

Victor handed me a heart motif necklace.

Victor: Think of this as your very heart and give it to the bad guy who steals your very heart.

Kate: Yes.

Victor: I'm excited! Now, my dear cursed ones, the battle for the bonus is about to begin!

Villains Festival 2024 Teams Prologue:

The condition for taking the entire bonus from her Majesty is to steal XXX's heart.

The villains begin to form dangerous joint fronts -

Alfons, Roger and Jude from Team Villain try to kidnap you?

Jude: What do you guys have?

Roger: A sack.

Alfons: Does it look like something other than a rope?

Jude: So, you'll bag her, tie her up and kidnap her....

Alfons & Roger: Please don't ask if you already know.

Harrison, Liam and Ellis is Team Love Thief.

They rush to protect you from Team Villain?!

Harrison: I'm here to protect you – No lie.

Liam: I don't want money. All I want is love from you.

Ellis: I'm happy as long as you're happy.

William, Elbert and Victor is Team Nobleman.*** (I decided to change this to Team Nobleman from Team Senior Aristocrat.)

They had decided to fight gracefully with a noblesse oblige heart, but......?!

Elbert: If anything happens to her.....I can't allow that to happen.

William: Hmm....I guess I blew my leeway earlier.

Victor: Good day, my dear.

Victor: Shall I punish you....?

When the three stories connect,

The fierce, serious and silly (?) will be revealed......

[Master List]

[skeletboi]

Part 17 of the Intridmensional AU!

This one starts right at the end of the last part, so I'd suggest reading the last few lines of part 16 before diving in here!

First /// Previous /// Next

________________________________________

“Would you believe I told ol’ Fordsie here to keep his idiot brother away from his project after what happened last time, yet here you are! HAH!”

“Ford…?” Stan asked, taking a step back.

“Sixer isn't home right now! Please leave a message after the beep! BEEEEEEPPPP!” Ford said before breaking out into laughter.

“Stanford… what in tarnation…” Fiddleford asked.

Stan grabbed Fiddleford's arm and took a step back.

“Didn't I just say he wasn't home?!” Ford said, tilting his head and smiling painfully wide.

“I don't think that's Ford…” Stan said, dragging Fiddleford back another step.

“DING DING! The idiot gets one point! I figured you'd be the one to catch on first, Fiddlesticks! How disappointing! You'd think you'd be better at recognizing the man you left your wife and kid for! Hilarious! How are they, by the way?! Or did you forget them?!”

“What- Stanford…” Fiddleford said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Fidds, something is seriously wrong, that is not my brother!” Stan said.

“‘Fidds?’ Damn, lesser twin, that's cold! Ruin your brother's life then steal his ex boyfriend, too?! Hah! No wonder he hates you!”

“What are you?!” Fiddleford asked, his voice shaking.

“Haven't figured it out, specs?! Hah! I thought you were supposed to be smart! What would Fordsy ever see in you?! You noticed his ‘sleepwalking’ and ‘weird behavior’, but even when I'm right in front of you you still can't put it together!”

“You're the one who came up with the portal idea.” Fiddleford said slowly, dread sitting heavy in his stomach, freezing him in place even as not-Stanford stepped closer to him.

“DING DING! Another winner! The name's Bill! It's a displeasure to finally meet you! You humans are so stupid! Once Fordsy finishes that portal your world will be mine! And another thing-”

Stan didn't wait to hear the rest. He grabbed a wrench from a nearby work table and swung, watching in horror as Ford crumpled to the ground.

“That was still Ford.” Fiddleford said, looking seconds away from passing out.

“What else was I supposed to do?! Let him keep sayin’ nonsense?! I mean-fuck! What the hell have you two been doing?! What is this portal you keep mentioning?!”

“It's a transuniversal metavortex.” Fiddleford said quietly. “A gateway into another dimension.”

“Why in the sci-fi hell would you want to build that?!” Stan asked.

“Because! He asked me to!” Fiddleford suddenly yelled, making Stan jump.

“I thought he forgot about me, Stanley.” Fiddleford said, quieter now. “I couldn't say no ta him after he called. I reckon lookin’ back now, I shoulda said no, but he was so excited-”

“Fidds!” Stan said, drawing Fiddleford from his quiet rambling. “Blaming yourself isn't going to do anything. All three of us have made some fucked up mistakes! Right now we need to find out what the hell that thing using my brother as a puppet is before he tries to turn on that sci-fi death triangle over there!”

“Triangle.” Fiddleford mumbled.

“Yes, a triangle. Glad you caught that part.” Stan deadpanned.

“I hafta dismantle the portal.” Fiddleford said, looking across the room at the machine. “Stan! We gotta stop this! We have to stop that demon!” Fiddleford grabbed Stan's arm and dragged him towards the portal.

“Missing leg, Fidds!” Stan said, trying to keep his balance on the dirt floor as Fiddleford pulled him.

“Right, sorry Stanley. I jus’ need yer help, There’s an emergency shut off. We can shut the whole thing down, but it takes two people!” Fiddleford said quickly, letting go of Stan's arm to rummage in his pockets for a set of keys. “Take this.” he said, pulling a key off the ring and handing it to Stan. “There's a spot in the control panel o’er there. I'll count ta three, then we both gotta turn the keys. Got it?”

“Fiddleford!” They heard Ford yell from behind them.

“Shit.” Stan swore, putting the key in his pocket and turning towards Ford. “Fuck you, you weird ass demon! Leave my brother and Fiddleford alone!”

“Demon?! Stanley, what are you talking about? What the hell happened?! The last thing I remember was you and Fiddleford fighting! Did he use the gun on me?!” Ford asked, panic rising in his voice.

“You happened, asshole! Don't play dumb with me, Bill!” Stan yelled back.

“Bill?! How do you know that name?” Ford asked, dumbfounded.

“Because he possessed ya! He told us his name, Stanford! How could ya trust a demon?! What happened to the idea for this darned portal bein’ ‘hard work’?!” Fiddleford yelled, finally joining in on the fight.

“He's not a demon! He's a higher being! A Muse!” Ford said. “I gave him permission to possess me as he saw fit, I just didn't expect him to do it now!”

“He possessed ya, Ford! That sure as heck sounds like a demon ta me!” Fiddleford responded.

“He- no- he…. he's my friend!” Ford said.

“You have got to be fucking with me!” Stan yelled. “Friends don't let you possess them and then shout insults at your actual friends!”

“Insults? He- he was joking. He loves joking, that's all.” Ford said frantically, taking a few wobbly steps towards Stan.

“Goddammit, Ford. You're too smart for this!” Stan said, turning away. “We're shutting this sci-fi nightmare down.”

“No!” Ford said, running down to meet them. “Stan, you can't!”

“I'm sorry, Ford.” Fiddleford said, making his way back to the machine on the other side of the lab.

Ford grabbed Stan's arm and yanked him backwards, miscalculating the amount of force he used and accidently throwing him against the control panel. Stan glared at him and lunged, grabbing him by the collar and pushing him backwards.

“Goddammit, Sixer! We're trying to help you!” He yelled.

“Help me? You have no idea what you're doing! You know nothing about Bill!” Ford said, sounding a bit unsure and pushing Stan back.

“Uh- fellas, careful ‘round that ‘quipment, there!” Fiddleford said, but the twins ignored him.

“I know enough! I know a con man when I hear one, Ford, and that demon is the ultimate con man!” Stan yelled, trying to walk away from Ford before he hurt him again, but Ford grabbed his arm and tried to drag him away from the control panel.

“How much of a con man can he be?! He was right, after all! I should have done better to keep you away from my project!” Ford snarled.

“Fuck you, Ford. If you want to believe that fucking monster over us, than fine, but we're shutting this down!” Stan said, pushing his brother as hard as he could, sending him falling backwards onto the lever in the middle of the room.

“No!” Fiddleford yelled, but it was too late. The portal crackled to life, filling the dark lab with an eerie blue glow.

“Oh shit.” Stan said, taking a step back.

“It works.” Ford said, smiling up at the light. “It works!”

“That ain't good, Stanford!” Fiddleford said, running over to try and drag Ford away. “We need ta shut it down!”

“We are not shutting it down!” Ford said, pushing Fiddleford away.

Stan tried to pull Ford away from the machine, but forgot, in all the commotion, about Stan's new peg leg. He grew up with Stan. He had seen him stand his ground against bullies twice his size. But that was back when he had two legs to stand on, so he was thrown off guard when Stan didn't stay standing. They both slid across the ground, over the yellow line where the portal could reach, and suddenly started to float.

“What the fuck?!” Stan exclaimed, flailing his arms and looking for anything to grab onto.

“Stanford! Stanley!” Fiddleford screamed, grabbing some spare cable from the ground and running towards them. “Grab on!”

“Tie it down!” Stan yelled, as he caught the cable and grabbed Ford's arm, holding on for dear life.

“I can't!” Fiddleford said as he started to slip.

The twins were much heftier than him and his shoes were not grippy enough to keep him down. He wrapped the cord around his wrist and reached behind him, trying to grab the lever to hold himself back, but his fingers just barely grazed it.

“Do something!” Stan yelled as Ford disappeared through the blue light. “Fiddleford!”

Stan melted into the blue after Ford as Fiddleford's feet lifted from the ground.

“Well, shit.” Fiddleford said, as he fell through the portal after them.

___________________________________________

This feels a bit like a cheesy movie scene. That's all I could think while I was writing it... but hey! We made it to the portal!

There is probably some serious plot issues with this scene, like was the portal even ready? Sure it was! It's January and they were going to test it in the next day or two, so... sure it was!

Would Bill leave Ford's mind if he was unconscious? Probably!?

Does Stan not hit very hard, because Fidds and Ford were both hit, and not out for very long?! Well, he was probably subconsiously holding back a bit- this is his brother and his new friend he met a whole day ago and would fight a literal god for.

Why does Stan immediately trust and want to protect Fidds?! He just be like that, okay? Fidds is someone important to his brother, therefore worth protecting.

Okay, I'll stop now.

I start a new job tomorrow, so the updates on this might slow down a bit... sorry. I need to survive in this failing economy.

[writeforfandoms]

Birfday - Soap

For my birfday bash!

For the poll winner, half hurt half comfort. Good ole half n half. Sorry not sorry. F!reader, implied injuries, we're ignoring canon but stuff still happened, when I say half hurt I mean it.

Word count: 1195

You weren't sure what to expect. When Simon had called you, you'd been surprised but pleased. 

At least until he'd told you Johnny was hurt. 

“He'll live,” Simon had assured you, voice rough. “But he's got some time off. Medical leave. Might need help.” 

You, of course, had agreed instantly. Johnny lived with you when he was home anyway, it was no trouble to keep an extra eye on him for medical purposes. 

Now, standing off base where Simon said he'd meet you, anxiety crept into your chest, curling around your lungs. Simon hadn't said how bad it was, which was finally setting off your fear. The constant barrage of “what if"s had you ready to tear your hair out. 

Finally, though, you spotted Simon and Johnny walking towards you. Simon stood on Johnny's left, between him and anything else. 

Your gaze caught on the bandages covering Johnny's left eye and stuck there. You breathed in deep, glad you had a moment to brace before Johnny sped up, nearly slamming into you even as his arms wrapped tight around you. You lifted one hand to his head, rubbing at his hair softly. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” you mumbled to him, holding tighter at the faint tremors you could feel. He was just barely holding together. “Ready to go home?” 

“Aye.” His voice cracked, just a little. 

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, rubbing one hand up and down his back. You caught Simon's eyes and nodded, just a little. Simon nodded once, slow and firm, and turned away. 

It took a little bit to get back home with Johnny. He was quiet, unusually so. It concerned you, but you'd have a better chance at getting him to open up once you both got home. 

The door locked behind the two of you and Johnny buried himself against you, as much as he could. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” you murmured, arms lifting to hold him close again. “What's going on?”

“Jus’ happy t'be home,” he muttered, almost too soft for you to hear. 

“Hmm.” You scratched your fingers gently against the dark fuzz on one side of his head. “Got a few little surprises for you.” 

That got him to lift his head, blinking at you. “Surprises?”

“Mmhm.” You smiled, fingers never quite stilling against his scalp. “After you change into something comfortable.”

He huffed, more theatrical than annoyed, and dropped his forehead to your shoulder again. “Comfy here,” he grumbled. 

You laughed softly, massaging the back of his neck now. “I know,” you murmured. “You'll feel better after you change. Go on.” 

He pouted but shuffled back to the bedroom. You waited until the door shut to let your head fall forward, your breathing a little shaky. You only had moments - Johnny wasn't usually one to dawdle, especially not with such a carrot dangled in front of his nose. 

He was here. He was here, and fine, and… well enough. He'd be okay. You'd both be okay. 

One more deep breath in, and you forced yourself to start moving. 

Dinner was ready to be plated, which you did. The bed had fresh sheets already, and if the tub wasn't tiny you'd shove Johnny in it. A shower would have to do tonight. 

“Smells good,” Johnny murmured, wrapping his arms around your middle and pressing his chest to your back. Clinging to you like a blanket. 

“Good,” you murmured. “Sit and I'll bring you a plate.” 

Johnny huffed, breath puffing warm against your neck. “Donnae have ta,” he mumbled. 

“I want to. Now sit.” You kept your voice gentle, a suggestion rather than an order. He could be a bit stubborn about being taken care of, but you'd wear him down. 

A moment later his warmth was gone as he stepped away from you. You glanced back just once to be sure he actually was sitting before you brought over plates and beers. 

Dinner was quiet, with Johnny glancing at you every so often, some odd emotion on his face. You kept glancing at him to make sure he was actually eating, watching for signs of pain or discomfort. 

But this quiet… this quiet was making you nervous. You'd guessed from Simon's call that this hadn't been easy, and obviously he'd been injured. But it wasn't like him to be so quiet, not even his first night home. 

“There's more, if you'd like.” 

Johnny shook his head, standing and washing his dish and yours. Then he just… stood at the sink, hands braced on the edge, head hanging. Your heart ached for him, and you almost went to him. Almost. 

“So, how bad is it?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Is what?”

“You haven't mentioned it yet,” he continued, almost as if you hadn't spoken. “Haveta assume it's ‘cause ye donnae want ta hurt mah feelings.” 

“What?” You did move up next to him, facing him, frowning. “You mean your injury?”

Johnny's lips thinned, gaze fixed down into the sink. That was answer enough for you. 

“Hey. Look at me.” You cupped his cheek gently, thumb brushing over his skin as you guided his face gently so you could try to meet his gaze. He seemed determined to not quite look at you. 

Okay then. You'd do this the hard way. 

“John MacTavish.” 

His spine straightened like you'd shouted, eyes going wide and snapping to you. 

“I know this isn't just about your face. Something happened, that much I can tell. You don't have to tell me anything, you never have to, you know that.” You drew in a deep breath, willing your eyes to stay dry long enough to finish. “I'm not going anywhere. I promise. You're not scaring me off, you're not running me off. All I care about–” You cut yourself off, blinking a few times even as your throat threatened to close. Damn your penchant for crying when stressed! “All I care about is that you came home.” 

Johnny stepped into you, pressing his forehead to yours even as tears dripped down your cheeks, emotion clogging your throat. For long minutes the two of you stood, offering and taking comfort in equal measure. 

Finally he sniffled, just once, and rubbed one hand up and down your back. “Ah'll have a scar,” he mumbled, voice thick still. “Won't be pretty.”

You scoffed. “You'll always be pretty,” you countered, just to watch his ears go red. “Besides, a scar might make you ruggedly handsome. Have to beat your admirers off with a stick.” 

He chuckled, his hand settling at the nape of your neck. “Won't have eyes for any of ‘em,” he admitted. “Just ye.” 

“Daft man,” you scolded gently, smiling, squeezing him gently. “Then stop running from me.”

“Swear down,” he whispered, pushing his forehead into yours again. “No more.” 

“Good.” You closed your eyes, smiling despite the tacky feeling of drying tears on your cheeks. “Come on. Shower time. We'll both feel better.”

“Wash my hair for me?” He grinned, not quite up to his normal roguish standard, but getting there. 

“Of course.” You finally pulled back, showing him ahead of you. 

He'd be fine. And you'd be there for him. Always. 

[philon-awards]

PHILON AWARDS 2024: Nominations are open!!

After last year's successful relaunch of this beautiful celebration of fannish creativity, KiScon is honoured to once again host the Philon Awards. Established by Jenna Sinclair and Shelley Butler in 1997, they originally were an annual event organised by The K/S Press to honour outstanding authors and artists in K/S fandom. With the permission and support of Jenna and Shelley, KiScon is happy to continue this tradition.

There are 8 categories:

Short fic (word count under 10K)

Long fic (word count 10K-50K)

Novella/novel (word count over 50K)

Podfic

Traditional Art

Digital Art

Poetry

Zines

For each category the voters will determine a Gold (first place) and a Silver (second place) winner.

Rules

Nominating and Voting:

Nominations are open until 31 August, 2024. Each fan can nominate up to 3 works per category, but you cannot nominate the same work twice.

For a work to make it onto the voting ballot, it needs at least 3 nominations. Before we add it to the ballot, we will get in touch with the creator to ask whether they are fine with this!

Voting is open from 10 September to 27 October, 2024.

The winners will be announced during KiScon 2024. Each winner will receive a certificate and a small prize.

Nominating and voting both take place via Google Forms, and you need to be logged in in order to submit the form; this ensures that people do not nominate or vote multiple times for the same work. If we suspect sockpuppet activity, we will get in touch for clarification. We keep the nomination and voting process completely confidential! Only the KiScon concom will see the submitted forms.

While *we* won't talk about who nominated what, *you* can still discuss your faves and promote them, if you feel comfortable doing so. Making fellow fans aware of great works and sharing why you love and want to nominate them, is encouraged.

You can submit the nominations form only once, but you can edit your responses if you need to add or change something (just follow the link in the email you receive after submitting the form). Please make sure to include every fanwork you want to see on the shortlist. You cannot edit your responses after nominations have closed.

To answer a question we received last year: yes, you can nominate (and vote for) your own work(s). We won't judge you. ;-)

Fanworks:

The work must focus on the pairing Kirk/Spock or Kirk & Spock. Slash (romantic and/or sexual relationship) and gen (friendship) are equally eligible. If a fic includes Kirk and/or Spock in relationships with other characters, be they canonical or original, this does not disqualify the work for the Philon Awards, as long as the focus is clearly on Kirk and Spock's relationship.

Art must feature Kirk or Spock or both of them; additional characters in the artwork are allowed, but no depiction of Kirk/Other or Spock/Other.

All universes are welcome: TOS (series and movies), TAS, and reboot, Discovery and Strange New Worlds. AUs and mirror universe are equally allowed. Crossovers between different Trek franchises or between Trek and other media are permitted, as long as Kirk and Spock are the work’s main characters.

RPF works (e.g. Shatnoy) are not eligible.

All ratings and genres are allowed. If a work among your nominations includes strong elements that would merit a warning on the AO3 (e.g. rape, major character death etc.), we'd appreciate a heads-up on the nominations form, so that we can make sure to include the warning on the shortlist.

The work must be complete. It can be part of a series, but the work itself must not be a WIP (missing chapters or a draft/unfinished sketch).

The work must have been created and published (print or online) after last year's nomination period. So everything from 1 September 2023 onwards until the end of the current nomination phase (31 August 2024) is eligible. Reprints or uploads of earlier works (e.g. a fic you wrote and published a few years ago and uploaded to the AO3 only recently) cannot take part in this contest. If a multi-chapter fic was started earlier, but the date of completion falls within the eligible range, then it can also be nominated.

For podfic the creation/publication date of the actual podfic counts, not of the written fic that inspired it.

AI-generated fic is NOT allowed.

Traditional art means that it was hand-drawn or hand-painted; scanning or photographing the finished work in order to publish it online is allowed, of course.

With digital art, we mean art that was created by a fan artist directly on a tablet or computer, or art that started out as hand-drawn and underwent significant digital alterations in the next steps. We do NOT allow AI-generated art! Manips based on still images or photos of the actors are not eligible in this contest.

Zines: Both e-zines and print zines published between 1 September 2023 and 31 August 2024 are eligible.

Last but not least: these awards are meant to be fun and a celebration of the K/S fandom. The shortlist will double as lovely rec list! We get to talk about our faves and let the creators know that we love their works.

You can fill in the nominations form embedded on the KiScon website, or (if your device does not display it properly) you can find it directly at this link.