#the answer is that i have many wips of these two and i finally finished one
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when it happens
happy valentine’s day or whatever <33
Avenger!Loki gets hurt and Tony realizes that he might be in love with Loki. He doesn't do anything about it but Loki does. Misunderstandings occur but they talk it out in the end
>>>
When it happens, it happens slowly and all in the same five-second period of time. For as long as it has taken Tony to come to terms with Loki fighting alongside him as an Avenger, it takes equally as short a timespan for Tony to realize how important Loki is to him.
The Hydra aircraft spirals out of the sky, toward the civilians in the park, and shouts go out over the Avenger’s communication systems. Tony is too far away, and so are the rest of the Avengers and none save one have the power of teleportation.
Loki flicks out of Tony’s view, and the seconds to impact count down as Tony realizes that if Loki dies today, he would not be anywhere close to okay with that. Somewhere along the line Loki became a friend and not just a colleague, and sure, Tony would mourn the loss of any Avenger but he hasn’t felt this wellspring of utter panic since he watched Pepper fall into the flames, and he hasn’t known with absolute certainty since Killian that if something happens he’ll kill the responsible party without hesitation.
The Hydra aircraft crashes into the parking lot that Friday had already deemed clear of civilians. Cars and concrete go flying into the air, metal screeches and fires erupt. Tony catches the swirl and spark of green magic twisting around the craft, and it’s enough to shake him out of his daze and get him airborne.
It doesn’t matter that Steve is yelling something about not leaving his position. It doesn’t matter that there are still more bad Hydra guys to fight. It doesn’t matter that he knows he’s going to get yelled at later for telling Friday to deploy the AI suits that he swore to everyone he got rid of after Ultron but actually didn’t. The Avengers need more firepower to win the battle, and civilians are in danger. Tony can take the yelling. And Loki is in danger too so Tony has to reach him. He has to get him to safety. That’s his priority. He has to save the thing he can’t live without.
read on ao3
#frostiron#frostiron fic#tony stark#loki laufeyson#marvel fic#asexual loki#my writings#you might be asking yourself why i'm posting frostiron fic#the answer is that i have many wips of these two and i finally finished one#i am a multifandom mess
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(Not sure if this is a sfw question 😅) but do Perry and Iris ever have any kids or adopt any in the future?
Tysm for adhering to the rules page mwah mwah 😙💕, this IS sfw but this was def the right blog for it lol (questions about the future directed AT the ask blog boyos will probably just confuse them and make Dev’s head hurt wheeze)
ALSO thank u for finally giving me an excuse to finish this wip I’ve had sitting around forever wheeze, the answer to wether or not Perry and Iris ever have kids is a RESOUNDING YES- eight of them, to be exact! (And that’s NOT counting the ones they fostered!!! If you ask IRIS how many kids they have he’ll say ‘DOZENS’, and he has the majority of them in a group chat ;w; 💕)
These fam-babies are all human versions of designs belonging to beloved mutuals!! 💕
(please comment to claim your babies djdndndjdjdjdjd I don’t know all y’all tumblrs 😭)
Also More rambling and doodle comics under the cut bc I need to put all the Dad content in one place wheeze
Perriris’ co-parenting journey started after one of Perry’s students had to be rescued from a terrible home situation, but was having so much trouble in the foster care system that Iris (who had been wanting a baby for DECADES anyway) BEGGED his husband to just adopt her themselves, and it went shockingly well!!
However, once thier daughter started asking about a baby sibling, Iris suggested that he and Perry try for a biological child again, despite having never succeeded in the past. Perry’s retirement from his teaching job was fast approaching anyway, but as much as he loved the idea, he knew that is was possible his body just couldn’t do it…
So he does what His older brother Timmy did, back when he was only ten, and wishes on a star.
This wish leads to the birth of WESLEY AND ANNIE, thier biological twin babies! Fun fact about them: because PERRY is a wish-baby (wished for by human Timmy, granted by fairy Timmy) that makes the twins DOUBLE wish babies! (Wished for by Perry, granted by Dev 🥺) so the two of them have a ton of residual magic in thier systems, much like thier daddy! I imagine when they were newborns is when it was the strongest, and Wren would always be the ONLY one to see them do anything unnatural, so she’d constantly be Candace-Flynn-style trying to convince her parents the babies were magic lmfao
Once they start fostering more regularly, Perry and Iris Fairly quickly develop a reputation for being excellent foster parents, especially when it comes to children other fosters have deemed “difficult”- any child that is enough of a little shit to remind Iris of himself as a child gets IMMEDIATELY scooped up be he and his husband, and several of them have never left 💕🥰
MIDDLE PIC DRAWN BY @zennyzach / @perisprinkles - THANK U AGAIN SOBS I STILL SCREAM CRY AND THROW UP ERERY TIME I SEE IT // V POS 😭🥺💕💙💜
They also designed Annie, and Wesley was designed by @phobylee / @theharbingerofdoomtime ! 💙💜
(This second comic is no longer canon bc this was before I decided Wes and Annie were bio children but I included it bc it’s still cute ;w;)
#REJOICE#DILF IRIS BE UPON YE#fairly normal parents au#fop au#fan kids#perirep#fop irep#fop peri#fairly oddparents#human au#my art#fanart#perirep fankids
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— Dia’s tumblr wrapped 2024
I know it’s super late for me to share this, but just as many would say, it’s better late than never. Thank you so much for the lovely people who tagged me to do this: @beomcoups, @shadowkoo, @kingofbodyrolls ♡
2024 started off smoothly…until it didn’t. The final quarter of the year has always been a hard time for me and it wasn’t that much different this year. As you can probably notice that I’ve been mostly absent ever since the end of October and I deeply apologise for that. I also regret not planning things properly and for not keeping up with my goals this year but that only means that I'll be dragging my WIP list towards the next year.
Thank you so much for everyone who has been there for me this year, and those of you who have stuck by me despite my inconsistencies. I really appreciate your presence on my blog, whether it’s through your likes and kudos, your reblogs, your comments and replies on my contents, and the kind words you sent me through my ask box. You guys have made it worthwhile for me to be here even after all these years, and I don’t think I can thank you enough for that. Here’s to mark the end of our wild journey through 2024 and enter the new year of 2025.
OVERALL FIC STATS 2024
Number of fics posted: 4 (four) one-shots, 2 (two) ongoing series, 3 (three) ficlets
Number of fics revamped: 2 (two) completed fics, 2 (two) ongoing series
Number of words written: 448,057 words (dang, no wonder I felt so burned out lol)
Number of fics in progress: 32 (oh, boy…)
FIRST FIC OF 2024
❥ A Christmas Fix 01 & 02 — posted Jan 31st & Feb 1st | 1,926 & 1,226 notes
My thoughts: This was…quite a journey. It’s been a while since I wrote a rom-com story and I was pleased to have been given the chance to write this idea through a collab. The final outcome wasn’t too disappointing either, since I enjoyed writing it and reading it afterwards. I’m glad everyone loved this story as well.
MOST POPULAR FIC OF 2024
❥ The Stand-In (Revamped version) — posted Aug 13th | 4,267 notes
My thoughts: Okay, yeah…I cheated a little. But to be fair, this fic did get a lot of notes this year before and after the revamping process. I loved this story so much that I felt like it deserved a major makeover and I’m glad I managed to do it this year.
LONGEST FIC OF 2024
❥ The Bedroom Hymns — series, ongoing, last updated Sept 9th | 50k++ words | I’m too lazy to open each chapter to count the notes I’m so sorry lol
My thoughts: I know…I know, I need to update this one again. I had to take a break from this series because this fic literally became my main focus this year that a lot of my WIPs kept getting pushed back just so I could finish more of this. I had to stop at some point to finally set free my WIPs. I have to admit that I also lost my motivation to write this due to the lack of notes and responses that I got with each update no matter how much time I spent working on it (tacky, I know…but it is what it is). I still love and enjoy writing this, so more chapters are coming. I can see this fic becoming my main focus again in 2025 until I’m done with it.
LAST FIC OF 2024
❥ The Forsaken II: Tears of the Sea — posted Oct 24th | 712 notes
My thoughts: Holy hell…this fic. Who would’ve thought that I’d be revisiting siren!Taehyung this year after…3 years?? Thank you, whoever it was that sent this during my birthday event. I never expected to write a full fic for this to continue the original story and to answer a lot of your questions, but I’m glad I did!
Honorable mention:
❥ Our Imperfections — posted Oct 30th | 92 notes
My thoughts: This was the last thing I actually released before I dipped into the void but I couldn’t count this as a fic as this was considered a ficlet or, in a more common term, a drabble.
PERSONAL FAVOURITE FIC OF 2024
❥ Blooming Wallflowers — posted Sept 25th | 927 notes
My thoughts: I had one of those rare moments where I found myself enjoying the writing process of a story so much that things simply kept flowing until it became a full story. This one went twice the size planned (and commissioned) but I have no regrets. At all.
Honorable mention:
❥ Maps (revamped version) — series, completed, posted Sept 6th, 7th, & 11th | 1,4k++ notes (again, I’m too lazy to open each chapter lol)
My thoughts: I initially planned to release something else for DPR Ian’s birthday this year. But then I started revamping the graphics for his old fics instead and decided to revamp the whole series while I had the chance. This one has always been my fave work that I wrote for Christian, so diving back into this to do a makeover and give it a major upgrade felt absolutely fulfilling.
2024 SPECIAL EVENT
❥ 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖉𝖊: yoonia’s 2024 birthday bash
My thoughts: Once again, I can’t thank you guys enough for joining this small event of mine. I promise that I’ll have another event in 2025 so please stay tuned! (see you in March!)
Fave reads of 2024
I have to admit that I haven’t been doing a lot of fic reading this year. But I’m happy that I got to dive back into reading some fanfics during my birthday event and found some lovely gems that I truly enjoyed
The Taste of Sin by @shadowkoo
Vignette: Duty by @cybrsan
The Athlete by @beomcoups
A Lover's Redemption by @writtenwhalien
Dandelion by @shina913
The Wood by @sailoryooons
Minted by @kithtaehyung
Mr. & Mrs. Yoon by @monamipencil
On The Ropes by @raplinesmoon
Top Ten Tracks of 2024
Loved — B.I
People — Agust D
Make You Mine — Black Violet
Gemini — Cheyenne
Close To Me — Mamie, Eloy, Trippy Bass
HUH?! — Agust D feat. J-hope
Love — Lana Del Rey
Reasons — COTIS
Watch Me Burn — Michelle Morrone
Die First — Nessa Barrett
GOALS FOR 2025
Write more. Tackle more WIPs each month.
Finally finish my old abandoned WIPs (About Time, Blood Moon Rising and the Shifters Series, Chance Encounter)
Finish writing and officially release my original stories/novel as a web-series
Try to do better with planning and scheduling and keeping up with them
Finish revamping Carousel and release the novel version on Ream
Read more. Both published books and released fics
Focus more on my personal health, mental and physical
Start job hunting again
I know I’m late for this, so I’m passing this over to the writers who are tagged on the list above (if you haven’t done this yet) and also tagging a few who come across my mind right now (only if you want to!): @ressjeon @lo1k-diamonds @pars-ley @minisugakoobies @inkedtae
And also tagging randomly anyone who feels inspired to create their own tumblr wrapped!
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Kinktober: Tommy Shelby
Pair: Thomas Shelby x fem!reader
Summary: Your parents can no longer afford the protection of the Peaky Blinders. Tommy can't just let that slide.
Warnings: Boot worship?
this may be unfinished, but the whole point of my kinktober is to finish the wips I've had for so long. Enjoy and lmk if you want more.
Shelves of assorted pill bottles and prescriptions sat behind you. Across the counter, an older woman counted her coins for an extra canister of film and finally slid the sum over to you. Only a few other patrons wandered around the pharmacy. While it was your parent’s business, you found yourself running it more often than they did.
“Enjoy your day, ma’am.” You watched the old woman walk out of the store. A tall man held open the door for her to leave. He wore the all-too familiar cap of the Peaky Blinders, along with the winter coat style that many of them shared.
You tried to hide your indifference, and slight fear. You stayed out of the way of those men as much as you could, but anyone in Birmingham had at least one encounter a week with them. The man casually walked up to the counter and his eyes met yours. Arthur Shelby, not the worst person to see, but certainly not the best.
“Mornin’ Darling. Are your parents here?” He wanted to be somewhat charming and intimidating, which definitely worked in his favor. Maybe if you weren’t aware of who he was and his reputation, you wouldn’t feel a familiar chill down your spine.
You shook your head. “M’sorry, Sir. They went out to the next town over. Is everything okay?” A part of you knew that something was wrong. The Peaky Blinders only came around when it was time to collect their monthly protection fees from every local business. For all that you knew, your parents had never missed a payment.
He leaned over the counter to get closer to you. “We haven’t received your payment. You do realize if you don’t pay, we can’t promise what’ll happen to this quaint little pharmacy.”
“My dad handles the payments. I didn’t know we were behind.” Business had been extremely slow lately. You could only assume that your parents were out of town to try and get the money they owed to the gang. “Could you give us until the end of the week? At least until they get back? I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding, you know we’re good on our word.”
Arthur thought for a moment, hopefully considering your words. “Two days. That’s all I can give you.”
You smiled. “Thank you. You’ll get the money and with interest.”
He nodded towards you and put his hat back on his head. “I know you will. You’re a good girl, yeah?” He walked out of the store, leaving an invisible cloud of something menacing in his wake.
You watched him leave. You’d never really had a direct encounter with one of them before. There was a sense of fear mixed with something you couldn’t really put your finger on.
~~
You shouldn’t have made promises that you weren’t confident that you could keep. Your parents returned and you thoroughly explained the situation and deal you made with Arthur. They told you that they would take care of it. That you shouldn’t be speaking with any of those men. They made whores out of innocent girls like you.
By the next Wednesday, you assumed that this whole issue was dealt with and over. You were unboxing new shipments behind the counter and organizing the shelves when your theory was proven extremely wrong. Your parents were fixing the display at the front of the door. They noticed the group of Peaky Blinders before you did.
The front door opened, the bell signaling a new customer. If their angry stances didn’t give who they were away, their hats did. Two of them grabbed your parents and made them face the one with the undercut and a cigarette hanging from his lips. You knew that this was Tommy Shelby, leader of the gang.
“Y’know we can’t let one person off the hook for a missed payment. Then we won’t be taken seriously, will we?” It was a rhetorical question, everyone knew the answer to that. Your parents keep struggling under the grasp of the men who held them with no success or escape.
The customers in the shop quickly fled through the front doors, making sure that they were out of harm's way from the gang and whatever they had planned for your parents. You stayed low to the ground, clutching the box of behind-the-counter medications in front of you.
“Your rates went up. Business isn’t like it used to be. We can’t afford it anymore.” Your father pleaded.
“We’re decent men. We understand the financial burden. We can always take some collateral until business starts booming again.” A new voice, one you remembered to be Arthur's, spoke up. “What about that daughter of yours?”
You perked up at the mention of your existence. “No. She’s out of the question.”
None of the men replied. Suddenly, your father’s grunts of pain followed the sounds of someone hitting him. It kept going. You shut your eyes. Your mother screamed for them to stop.
Ignoring the protests from your own body and brain, you stood up. “Leave him alone!”
Their heads turned to you. It was then that you realized it might’ve been a mistake. “And who might you be, girl? Some kind of hero?” Tommy’s blue eyes pierced into you.
Arthur grinned at the sight of you. “That’s sweet, little Y/n. Their daughter.”
“Y/n, run!” Your father struggled against the men, screaming as loud as he possibly could.
Like a deer in headlights, you stood still. Your brain screamed for you to run, but your body locked into the position you were in. “Y/n, stay.” Tommy commanded you in a mocking way. He almost sauntered over to the counter and let himself through the small gate so that he was right next to you. “Look at that, she knows who she belongs to already.”
“Mr. Shelby, I have money saved up. I can cover the cost. Just please, don’t hurt my parents.” Your voice was slightly over the volume of a whisper. Begging and pleading in front of a man like him was something people near death only got to experience. You hoped it wasn’t at that point.
He clicked his tongue. “I don’t want your money anymore, darling. I need your parents to remember what happens when they cross the Peaky Blinders.” He leaned close to you, enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. It gave you goosebumps. “If you’re good, you might enjoy this a little too much for a punishment.”
His hand trailed to your lower back as he guided you into the storage room. Once he closed the door behind the both of you, the courage to talk returned. “What are you going to do with me?”
He laughed and lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke in your direction. “Nothing at all.”
You raised a brow. “Nothing?”
“Don’t sound disappointed, love. I may be a criminal, but I’m no monster.” Another puff of smoke. The stinging scent of tobacco invades your senses. He quirks a brow. “Unless that’s what you want.”
You shook your head, a little hesitant. “Of course not. But…why?”
He stifles a laugh at your apparent eagerness. "Fucking me is a privilege, not a punishment." He blows the smoke away yet again.
Taking a step closer to him, you cock your head to the side in curiosity. "And...I haven't earned that privilege?" You couldn't sound more desperate to jump his bones if you tried. If only your parents heard you. How ashamed they must be.
Maybe it was true about the Shelby men. They didn't even try and had women fawning at their feet for a chance to touch them. Or vice versa. You were no exception to this phenomenon. "No, not yet. If you want me so badly, you must prove yourself."
He dropped the cigarette, put it out with his boot, and it singed the floor. It was as if the idea popped in his head right then. "Grind on my boot. Make yourself come."
You looked down to see his boot, the reflection from a somewhat recent shining making you see your pathetic expression looking back at you.
This was necessary if there was any chance of him touching you at all. You fell to your knees and crawled to sit on his boot. "Eyes up here." He called, making you keep eye contact as you started to slowly grind against his shoe, the friction barely stimulating your clit at this point. You weren't sure if coming was even possible this way.
"That's it, wet by boot. Filthy slut." He carefully lifted the tip of his boot against you, pulling a quiet moan from your lips.
You must've looked silly, grinding your core over his boot while your parents were probably getting beaten just in another room. How could he have such an influence on you?
Still, you ground against him, chasing your high on his boot.
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PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER (PT. 2)
PAIRING kevin moon x f!reader
WORD COUNT 5.60k
GENRES angst ﹒little bit of fluff ﹒little bit of smut
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, reader is better than me cause i would not let kevin do all the shit he’s done 😭, ANYWAY i digress, this part is very reader-centric — whereas part one is very kevin-centric, inner turmoil goes absolutely crazy, most of this fic is reader putting kevin in his place and him realizing how big of an asshole he truly is, mentions of injury (past tense), mentions of insecurity, lots of arguing, reader cries at one point or another, the smut places a very minimal role in this, but unprotected sex, public sex (the auditorium dressing room), no foreplay but wtv we fall like soldiers in battle, pussy job lowkey (high key…), creampie, lmk if i missed anything!
SUMMARY it wasn’t like you and kevin hated each other. in fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.
MORE oh my god. it’s finally fucking here. A MONTH, 2 SICKNESSES AND MANY MANY STRESSFUL NIGHTS LATER— part two of princess and the pauper is here!!! i’m so sorry to those of u who have been itching and waiting on me to get ‘er done,,, it’s been an ordeal to say the least, and while it’s nearing the two month mark since the black out or back out collab was announced, SHE FINALLY FINISHED!!! for once i saw something through omg i can sleep peacefully and work on my other wips without guilt now… 😭 ALSO THANK U SO MUCH MAYA @/kimsohn FOR PUSHING ME THROUGH THIS and for making me thug it out bc without u it definitely would’ve taken much longer to finish 💔 please dont forget to read part one and the other fics in the series if u haven’t!! both are linked below! and as always, pls reblog if u enjoyed <3
PART ONE | SERIES MASTERLIST
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr @sunwooverse @kimsohn
TAGLIST @millksea @deobibbang @deobi0412
Never in your life have you felt so… Confused.
It wasn’t just confusion that settled deep in the pit of your stomach. There was a sharp pain there too, like someone stabbed you and twisted the knife. That was probably the best way to describe what you were feeling. You were bleeding out, and no one was coming to save you.
Kevin wasn’t answering your calls. He wasn’t answering your texts. He ran out of the lecture hall as soon as class was over, never giving you a moment to speak to him. It was making you nervous.
You still had half of a dance to choreograph and a fuck ton of pressure riding on your back. After the last performance you and him did together, you’d have a lot of eyes on you. It most definitely wasn’t your fault that he dropped you. How many people willingly want to acquire a broken ankle? The crutches were a bitch to maneuver around with. But like every single thing that’s happened in the three years you’ve known Kevin Moon, he’s managed to place the blame on you like it was.
It was crucial that you make amends with him even if it was momentarily. Your final grades were dependent on your performance. If he couldn’t get his shit together for at least that, he was a lost cause in your mind. Not even your professor would be able to refute that fact. Actually, nobody would be able to refute that fact.
Your lips form an O as you blow the steam away from your coffee, pulling out your phone to try Kevin’s phone once again. The line rings a few times before going straight to voicemail like it has the past couple weeks. You kiss your teeth, tying your sweater around your waist as you slump in your chair. The baristas at the campus cafe were probably sick of seeing you sitting in the same high-top counter spot since the incident with Kevin in the studio.
“Y/N?”
Ji Changmin appears beside you and you click your phone off, so he wouldn’t see his friend’s contact on the screen. You give the Early Childhood Dev major a weak smile.
“Changmin! What’s up? How are you and your girlfriend?” You hope he can’t recognize the distress written all over your features. You highly doubt it, though. You can feel the wrinkles pulling at your skin.
“We’re good! How’s the showcase performance going with Kev?” He asks like he knows something you don’t. When your lips fall to a thin line, an all too familiar grimace, he sighs a knowing sigh. “Do I have to smack some sense into him?”
“Not gonna lie, yeah, you do. He’s being really fucking difficult and like half of our dance is unfinished. I can’t even get a hold of him, so I’m starting to lose my patience.” You express your annoyance. The border between complacency and free-will was a lot slimmer than one might think. For example; your feelings when it comes to Kevin Moon.
You don’t expect to get a returning call later that night when you’re washing dishes after dinner.
In fact, you don’t even hear it at first, too absorbed in scrubbing the staining out of your bowl. It’s when your roommate yells out to you, that you snap out of your reverie, albeit dazedly. You dry your hands on a nearby tea towel, hitting the green answer button without a second glance at the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“Are you free tomorrow?”
Your heart catches in your throat. You recognize the owner of the voice practically by the first breath into the receiver alone. It’s actually kind of unhealthy how quickly it took to realize who was on the other end. You swallow heavily, praying he doesn’t hear the gulp.
“In the latter part of the afternoon, I believe. Why?” You try not to sound hopeful. That’s one thing you’ve learned being in the same vicinity as Kevin Moon. You could never be too expecting, because it would only lead to disappointment. And you’d dealt with enough of that the past few years.
“We need to finish this fuck ass choreography,” he grunts, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue. “I’ll meet you in the same studio at 4.”
He doesn’t let you get anything else in, hanging up swiftly. You deflate as you set your phone back on the counter. All you had to do was push through these next couple weeks, like you always have when it came to him.
That should be a piece of cake, right?
Wrong.
“No, that looks stupid.”
You grit your teeth, swiping the back of your hand on your forehead. You’d been inside of this studio maybe 30 minutes tops, and you were on the verge of strangling Kevin. With as long as you’d been putting up with his shit, you thought getting through this wouldn’t be as rough as it’s been. But if there was one thing Kevin Moon had, it was pride.
“We don’t have time for you to nitpick right now. Let’s just finish the choreography and clean it after.” Your hands rest on your hips, nostrils flaring.
“If we clean as we go, we’ll have more time to drill it into our systems and get down muscle memory. It’ll be a stronger performance.” He argues. You roll your eyes as you turn away from him, taking a water break to calm yourself. “Why do you have so much fucking attitude today? You were the one preaching to the choir about me making things difficult. It seems the tables have turned.”
Usually, you were pretty good at keeping your frustration at bay when it came to Kevin’s remarks. You liked to think it was because you were down bad for the guy, despite him always wanting nothing to do with you. But as of late, (Read: Since your performance of Princess and the Pauper) every little comment he’s made has managed to crawl under your skin like a damn parasite. You were beginning to get real sick of it.
“God, you’re so—“ You interrupt yourself to groan, fingers curling into fists. “You’re fucking insufferable. Do you know that? I’ve been bending over backwards to ensure we aren’t kicked out of the goddamn program and you don’t even fucking care. Over what? A kiss that you initiated?”
Kevin is stunned into silence, not at all prepared for you to blow up on him like that. After all, that razor thin line between complacency and free-will had yet to be crossed. And well, it appears that you just crossed it. You whip around toward him, pulling down the collar of your t-shirt to reveal the faintest of bruises that still remains from your impromptu act of intimacy.
“I’ve had to look at this every day for a week and all it’s done is make me feel shitty, ashamed of something I didn’t even start. Now I need you to stop acting like an ass and get it together so we can finish this and perform the best dance this university has ever seen.” Your chest is heaving up and down, similarly to when you made out against the mirrors last week. Except this time isn’t out of breathlessness, but rather anger and exhaustion.
Kevin’s eyes don’t leave the hickey on the base of your throat, something undetectable swimming in them as he stares. You can’t read the emotions swirling rampantly in his irises, a mixture of too many blurring into one another. Honestly, it’s funny. It’s funny that it’s taken you this long to get him to shut his mouth for once.
So you laugh.
It’s a snort at first, an off handed projection of how comical the situation has become to you. But then it metamorphoses into a small giggle, which leads to full scale laughter that has you hunching over your knees and wiping away tears. This whole thing is stupid. Absolutely fucking stupid.
“What are you laughing at?” His eyebrow raises in question, broken from his weird trance.
“I just can’t believe it took three years for me to shut you up,” you shake your head slowly, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm. “You’re always the one who can’t stop talking.”
Kevin deadpans, mouth pulled pin-straight as his expression drops. “You’re so unserious.”
As the height of your laughter reaches a valley, you collapse onto the ground, resting your back against the mirror. You take another long sip of water before sighing. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. Trust me, I know. But, we’ve gotta set aside our differences just this once. Please, for the sake of the department.”
“Fine,” he murmurs, plopping down beside you to stretch his back. “Let’s finish choreographing so we can start cleaning it up.”
It’s a victory in your book, and probably the most obedient the Pisces has ever been. Maybe this wouldn’t end in complete disaster like you assumed it would. It turns out Kevin Moon wasn’t entirely brainless and knew when he was wrong. Sometimes. Maybe. We’ll see.
You shut your eyes and visualize what you’ve choreographed so far, going over the moves in your head to see if the rest will come to you like a prophecy. It’s wishful thinking, but with how much you’ve accomplished since setting foot in the studio, you’re willing to try anything. The track would be nice for elements of hip hop style choreography, but you knew the audience wouldn’t eat it up as much as they would the route you’re currently taking.
Driver roll up the partition, please…
The song plays through the speakers and you watch as Kevin stands to run through everything you have. You’re entranced by his movements, the flow of his body on certain points. It’ll look ten times better once you’re doing it with him, costumed and performing it perfectly in front of a crowd. You can picture it now, the gentle but controlled glide of his hands along your arms when Beyoncé sings “We ain’t even gonna make it to this club”. He was right. You very well might be seduced by your enemy.
“Should we use props?” You suddenly voice, eyes narrowed in thought. He hums.
“That’s… not a half-bad idea, actually,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “What did you have in mind?”
“A chair, maybe,” you look away from him, placing your focus on the way your toes alternate between a tendu and relaxed position. “That could take up a good chunk of the choreo.”
Kevin stalks over to the supply closet in the corner of the studio, pulling out a folding chair. He puts it in the center of the room gently, careful to not scratch up the wooden, lacquered flooring. You spend the next couple of hours brainstorming through numerous versions of the dance. While it was a lot easier than your past practices, there were still the occasional argument over which movements looked good and whatnot.
At a certain point, everything becomes cohesive and the end is near. You gulp down some water as Kevin does some random choreography. It’s then that it comes to you, like a vision from That’s So Raven. You practically drop your water bottle, scrambling to your feet and stopping him. Your breath is heavy from fatigue and you’re slightly afraid of even suggesting this, but it’s exactly what this dance needs. It’s exactly what everyone wants to see from the two of you.
He pauses the music and gestures for you to get on with it. You push down the lump in your throat, scared of rejection. But maybe he was smart and he would agree that this is what you have to do. “What if we did a lift?”
You see the hesitation swirling in his eyes and you raise a finger before he can shut you down entirely. “Nothing crazy like… um— you know— Princess and the Pauper, but something smaller. Something… sexy? Like, Dancing with the Stars type beat.”
When he shrugs instead of outright dismissing your idea, you know you’ve won. He nods slowly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Okay, sure. But we better clean up everything else fast so we can perfect the lift.”
The two of you take another three hours running the entirety of the choreography, ingraining the moves into your brains and muscles. You still had a bit until the actual showcase, but your priority now lies with the lift. If you nailed it, the entire department would very well grovel after you in reparation for all of the slack you got after Kevin dropped you. Hell, the entire university would kiss your feet. This was your redemption. In more ways than one.
You both decide to call it a day at around 9:30 PM. Your hands reach for your belongings and then you halt yourself, a thought coming to mind. While you had him in this weird state of obedience, you figured it was as good a time as any to ask the question that’s been weighing on you for the past few years. Your fingers swipe away the sweat beading around your hairline.
”Kevin,” you start, voice a lot softer than before. “Why do you— what did I do to make you dislike me so much?”
He’s caught completely off guard, eyes widening in surprise. If he was anticipating you to say anything else prior to parting ways tonight, he didn’t think this would be it. He’s actually a little off put that you hadn’t asked him this already in the span of your definitely-one-sided rivalry. He takes a large gulp of water.
”I’d call it indifference, not dislike,” he corrects after a pregnant silence. “It’s really fucking stupid thinking about it in hindsight. I don’t know if you remember this time, way back in our first year, we ran into each other at the campus cafe— literally, might I add— and you spilled your coffee all over this white shirt of mine that Changmin had gotten for me as a birthday gift. I only recently found out that it wasn’t as expensive as he made it out to be.”
You blink at his admission, processing his words as thoroughly as possible. You don’t know what you wanted him to say. You weren’t even sure if there was a concrete reason for him to be so fucking mean to you all this time. And now that you know, you come to the conclusion that Kevin Moon isn’t as smart as you’ve painted him out to be in your head. He’s actually a gigantic idiot. Because who in their right mind goes through these lengths to form a distance between the only other person on par with their talent?
Before you can stop yourself, you’re bursting into another fit of laughter. Kevin falters at your reaction. He was waiting for you to blow up on him, to scream in his face for causing you so much pain and unnecessary drama over something so silly. So when you do none of that, when you start fucking laughing like a damn hyena, he feels dumb. Like his entire college career has been built off of nothing.
”This is so—“ you pause to gather your bearings, wiping away the tears that managed to escape. “We’ve spent so much time going back and forth over some spilled coffee? Surely you’ve realized how insane that is at some point.”
”It took a lengthy argument with Changmin, but yeah, I did,” he nods, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”
You worry your lower lip between your teeth, finally getting your things together. The two of you bid each other an awkward goodbye. Neither of you knew what to make of your relationship now that things had been partially sorted through. There was a fuck ton of baggage that still had to be sifted, but at least you had an answer.
That was enough to push through this showcase performance. You think.
You’re nervous.
Never in your entire life have you ever been this nervous for a performance.
You grew up doing musical theatre and dancing, it’s always been the one constant presence you could rely on. But standing here, backstage at the showcase, you think you’re going to throw up. Your palms are clamming up uncontrollably and your chest feels unbearably heavy as you watch the quartet doing a contemporary piece to some ballad you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. There were still a couple groups before you.
Not even when you had to perform fuckass Princess and the Pauper were you this anxious. You wince, trying to stop the incessant bouncing of your leg. Your weight keeps shifting from one hip to the other. As a seasoned veteran, you don’t know why you feel this way. Maybe it had to do with all the pressure riding on this very dance. Every single eye in that crowd was going to scrutinize your every move on that stage.
“Calm down,” a voice whispers harshly from beside you. “You’re making me nervous.”
Kevin wraps his fingers around your wrist, stopping the annoying tap-tap-tap your own were doing against your thigh. He gives you a look, and you sigh. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
That’s a lie. Not only was the high expectations from the entire school getting to you, but so was the fear of history repeating itself. He knows this, it was inevitable. After what happened the last time he was tasked with lifting you, it was only natural.
”We’ve drilled this dance hundreds, if not thousands, of times, Y/N. We’ll do just fine.” Kevin assures you.
His hand feels foreign holding yours, like it was illegal for his skin to be touching your own. You feel your lower lip quiver, a sense of trepidation that you’ve never once felt creeping down your spine. Your mind was spiraling, and quite honestly, Kevin being so close was making it worse. All you could think about was him dropping you again, leaving you in the middle of the stage with a broken leg and a broken heart. You release a shaky breath and he turns to face you.
Your eyes widen and he searches your face for any disingenuity. When he finds his answer, he brings the hand that was holding yours up to cup your cheek. He’s cautious, afraid he might break you like he always does. He waits for you to shove him away and to yell at him for being a fucking coward.
You don’t. You stay still, hoping he follows through with what you think he’s about to do. And then he does.
It’s such a featherlight peck of his lips on your own, you almost don’t even register. But sparks shoot from the source all the way to the tips of your fingers. You feel as if you were dealt a static shock of electricity, your whole body buzzing from the small kiss alone.
He pulls away just in time for the stage manager to inform you that you’re next. Kevin rolls his neck jogging over to the wings to patiently await your performance like he hadn’t just kissed you a moment ago. You blink dumbly, two fingers coming up to touch where his lips had been. Sure the nerves were gone now, but the sensation of butterflies swarming about in your stomach easily replaced that. What the fuck was his problem?
“Our last performance is one I’m sure all of you have been waiting for. Kevin Moon and Y/N L/N with Partition!”
Before you know it, you and Kevin are in position, your body squared upstage and his to the crowd. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his arm wrapped around your waist and his steady breathing on your nose. The spotlight switches on, the heat of the lighting warm against the side of your face. It’s silent in the auditorium, but it rings in your ears. You could do this.
Let me hear you say ‘Hey Miss Carter’…
You move on reflex, muscle memory kicking in instantaneously. Each circle of your hips, every turn you make— a fouetté here, a pirouette there, a couple coupes, each roll of your body. But what really gets you is the long brushes of Kevin’s skin on your own. You’d practiced with distance between the two of you. There was a tension that had been there for years. Now it’s all coming to a rolling boil, a new uncharted tension that every single member in that audience could see.
And then comes the lift.
You, along with everybody in the auditorium, practically hold your breath when Kevin’s hands grip your hips. He raises you above him with all of his strength, completely focused on you and only you. You shut your eyes and feel the moment, like, really feel it. Your body is relaxed, the Dirty Dancing-esque lift bringing the whole performance together just like you knew it would. The only difference from the movie and real life is the fact that you’re flipped, your backside to Kevin and your chest to the ceiling.
Your eyes flutter open, the spotlight all but blinding you, and you finally feel content. Like everything has fallen into the right place for once in your life. Especially so when Kevin sets you down gently and you finish your dance with the utmost confidence.
The crowd erupts into a roaring chorus of applause, going as far as giving you a standing ovation. Holy shit. You pulled it off. You actually managed to pull it off.
Your face feels like it might split from how big your smile is. You and Kevin bow, walking off stage. You’re entirely too happy right now, a newfound energy overtaking you as you trail behind him.
“We did it!” You cheer as you follow him towards the dressing room where your things are. You’re the only ones left backstage, everyone else filtering out between performances. Kevin doesn’t give you much of a response, just a small nod of acknowledgment. Your smile falters. “What the hell is your problem?”
”Nothing, Y/N, fuck. Can you just mind your own fucking business?” He snaps, turning around to glare at you just as the door slams behind you. You instinctively flinch at both loud noises. His features soften but you take a step back from him.
You aren’t sure why you’re surprised. This isn’t anything new. Kevin has always made it crystal clear that he wasn’t your number one fan. Being neutral for your performance wasn’t enough to repair all the holes in whatever your relationship was, and you should’ve known better. You shouldn’t have let your guard down so easily. You should’ve expected this. Old dogs can never learn new tricks.
But Kevin’s scared. He’s afraid of letting you in after all the mess he’s put you through. The only thing he’s good at doing is hurting you, over and over like there was a prize that came out of it.
”Look…”
”No, you listen to me,” you swallow heavily, tears already tight lining your eyes. “Kevin, I have taken so much shit from you. Over these past few years I have just sat there and let you unload all your fucked up insecurities onto me. Have you ever wondered why? Have you ever thought to stop and think about why I let you be so mean to me without even questioning it?”
He says nothing, just stares with his lips parted. They open and close like a fish out of water, words there at the tip of his tongue but refusing to make their escape. And then one of your tears rolls down your cheeks and he’s directly in front you, his heart on his sleeve for the first time since you’ve met him.
”Why?” The simple question is so quiet, you almost don’t hear him. But his eyes hold so much hurt, so much anguish that you’ve never seen in a person before.
“I’ve had feelings for you for so long, it’s actually starting to ache. You’ve only ever seen me as this thing, this obstacle. And I’m afraid that that’s all I’ll ever be to you, because you won’t let me be anything else. You won’t—“
”That’s not true, Y/N,” Kevin sighs, looking off to the side, away from you. “I just— it’s complicated. It’s more than just being rivals.”
”So help me understand,” you frown. “Let me in, please.”
”My entire life I’ve had to work to get to where I am. I’ve fought tooth and nail to be as good of a performer as I am today. There were so many hoops I had to go through to even get into this program and— and I thought I’d finally become the best I could be. I thought that there was no way anyone could ever be better than me. And then you showed up. You and your pretty smile and your natural ability to be the best at everything you do. It was like you were the real life manifestation of all of my critics, of every challenge I faced to get here. Where I had to practice day and night to perfect something, it just came to you like second nature. During Princess and the Pauper, when I dropped you, it truly was an accident. But we’d spent so much time nailing it, that it— I just made myself feel better by saying it was your fault. ‘How could it have been my fault if I perfected it?’ I was jealous and petty and it was just easier to blame hating— to blame my indifference on you spilling coffee on my stupid shirt. For that, I’m sorry.”
You don’t know what you were waiting to hear, but it wasn’t that. Your tears turn into full on blubbering, because what the fuck? That’s so much burden for someone to carry on their shoulders for three years.
“Why are you— why are you crying?” He flounders, reaching up to swipe away your tears.
“I wish I knew… I wish I could’ve helped you somehow,” you sniffle. “Kev, I’ve always admired you and your work ethic. I hoped one day I’d be half as disciplined as you, half as determined.”
He blinks. You’re both dumb, aren’t you? Too focused on the wrong things. You both could’ve been a lot less hateful, a lot less miserable, had you just spoken your differences out. This entire rivalry has been completely one sided, but also built off of plain stupidity and ignorance. He supposes it’s not too late to make amends if you aren’t running in the opposite direction despite everything he’s put you through.
Kevin leans forward, hand still pressed to your cheek, and connects your lips softly. He’s testing the waters, making sure you’re comfortable before he continues anything. When you don’t back away just yet, he adds more force, deepening the kiss like a man starved. You whine against his lips.
This is what you’ve been wanting from him. More than what he gave you before your performance, but not what happened in the studio a few weeks ago. This desperation isn’t abashed lust, it’s unbridled affection— it’s everything he’s holed inside of himself for years, unwilling to let it see the light of day until now. If you were to label anything as perfection, it wouldn’t be a dance or a moment on stage, it would be this. Just you and Kevin finally bringing yourselves together in the most intimately emotional union.
He pulls you closer to him, hands sliding down to grasp at your waist, bunching up the thin fabric of your leotard. You can’t help but bury your fingers in his hair, tugging when he nips at your lower lip. A gasp permeates the air when his mouth travels south, along your jaw and down the side of your neck. He bites and sucks the tender skin at the base of your throat, ensuring he leaves his mark on you. This time isn’t careless, this time he has purpose. He wants everybody to know that you’re his, that you’re the only person insane enough to put up with him.
Your breathing is shaky when you reach behind you to lock the dressing room, dragging him over to the long vanity adjacent to you. He slots between your legs when you hoist yourself onto the surface. He pecks your lips and pauses his movements, rubbing up and down your thighs. In the dim, yellow lighting of the room, you look so gorgeous. He’s always thought you were beautiful, the most stunning thing he’s ever laid his eyes on, but he’s repressed it for so long. He wants to take his time staring at what he’s avoided.
”You’re so pretty,” he says quietly, kissing you again and again and again. “I don’t think I can last long with you.”
“Can we skip the foreplay?” You ask, bottom lip jutted into a pout. “Need you to just fuck me like you mean it.”
Kevin’s forehead falls to your shoulder with a groan. “I don’t deserve you,” God, he’s such an idiot for holding out from this. You should’ve been given the world and so much more. He has a lot of lost time to make up for. He kisses your shoulder with a sigh. “Yeah, baby, I can do that.”
You don’t waste another second, slipping your arms through the sleeves of your leotard. He has to bite down on his tongue when he sees that you’re braless, fingers going slack as they unbutton the rest of his silk shirt. You shimmy out of the one piece, left in nothing but the fishnet stockings you wore underneath and your lacy panties. Kevin thinks he must’ve done at least something right in a past life to experience this.
Your eyes sparkle as you look up at him, undoing his slacks and kicking them down his legs with your feet. Something takes over him when he rips a bigger hole in your stockings, pushing your underwear to the side. His thumb glides through your folds with ease, your slick providing enough lubricant. He pushes your lower lips apart while you busy yourself shoving his underwear to his ankles.
His cock slips inside of you with less friction than he would’ve thought, but he doesn’t complain, screwing his eyes shut as he acclimates to the feeling of your walls surrounding him. You moan, such a soft sound that he nearly loses his balance.
“You feel so good, baby,” he coos, digging his fingers into your hips as he rocks his own. “You’re so so perfect.”
The praise is too much for you, given the circumstances. Your brain is already cloudy, stuffed with what could only be described as cotton. You watch with half lidded eyes as he begins to piston into you at a faster speed. This all feels like a fever dream, something that was only possible in your craziest fantasies. Even then, it seemed unlikely.
“‘M close, Kev,” you whine, unable to stay still and attempting to match his thrusts.
“Already? We’ve only just started, gorgeous.” He laughs, but it’s breathy, strained from the exertion of his body. You hardly have the strength in you to be embarrassed about it, especially since he’s seen you in much worse situations.
You nod frantically, snaking a hand between you to circle your clit with nimble fingers. Kevin halts you and pulls out momentarily, sliding his cock between your folds like it was your hand. The tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you dizzier than you already were.
He presses back into you with ease, resuming his sloppy but animalistic pace. He uses his thumb to continue your handywork, your cunt fluttering around him needily. You’re both losing your sanity quickly, both going batshit insane over the bare minimum. You’ve just needed this for so long, yearned for this moment for a humiliating amount of time.
Your moans start to rise in pitch and he groans. “Fuck, baby, you can cum for me.”
He could cry, he thinks, when your back arches and your legs shake with your orgasm. It hits you like a freight train, triggering his own release just as fast.
You stay like that for a bit, regaining yourselves and comprehending everything that’s just happened. So much for the whole hating each other narrative.
“What does this mean for us?” You suddenly ask, arms hooked around Kevin’s neck. You’re still connected by your lower halves, but he makes no effort to pull away. Part of you likes it that way, it gives you hope that this isn’t a one time affair.
“It’ll be hard for things to change overnight,” he says, massaging your sides. “We have a lot of unresolved issues and insecurities that we still have to push past. But I’m willing to do that with you. I want to take a chance on us.”
Your lips pull into a smile, an expression you don’t think you’ve worn around him genuinely in the years you’ve known him. “I do, too.”
“It’s kind of ironic that it was a performance that tore us apart and brought us back together, don’t you think?” He laughs.
“And we fucked in the dressing room…” You add, glancing to the top corner where a security camera is stationed.
“Maybe we should get out of here before someone checks the footage,” he suggests. “Tau Beta Zeta is conveniently hosting our end of semester party tonight, do you wanna be my plus one?”
“I would be honored.” You grin, pecking his lips tenderly.
Perhaps happy endings existed after all.
© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
#deoboyznet#the boyz#the boyz x reader#the boyz smut#tbz#tbz x reader#tbz smut#the boyz kevin#tbz kevin#kevin moon x reader#kevin moon smut#kevin x reader#kevin smut#moon hyungseo#blackoutorbackout🍻#juyeonszn
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Hi all! It's so lovely to see so many people motivated by the fresh feeling of a new year. Thank you for sharing your work with me, @artsyunderstudy, @nausikaaa, @monbons, @thewholelemon, @roomwithanopenfire,
@whatevertheweather, @bookish-bogwitch, @martsonmars, @bookishbroadwayandblind, and @prettygoododds.
One thing I learned from reading everyone's year-end retrospectives: if I want to be more involved, I need to stop being such a perfectionist! I could have been posting every week, but I'd be kicking myself over not having finished a piece of every single WIP...and so I wouldn't post. I'm gonna challenge myself to just post, even if I only wrote one thing the previous week. So that said, it was a vacation week for me, so along with posting my gift fic for @facewithoutheart, A Very Zombie Christmas, I did actually do work on a lot of my WIPs, and you can expect updates on at least two of them this week.
So, here we go. As always, I absolutely did not bother to count six sentences:
From my 2023 COTTA, Snow Fox:
It took some convincing to get Penny and Mitali out the window and up onto the roof. Well, more Mitali than Penny. Neither woman much liked the fact that their petticoats and whatever other underthings women wear would be clearly visible from underneath the whole time they were climbing.
Penny accepted it as a necessity with a grumble and an embarrassed flush, but Mitali truly balked at the idea. Finally, Pen suggested that I lower a loop of rope rather than an end of rope, and the women could sit in the loop and be hauled up. That resolved the whole ridiculous issue, and we had both women out of the house and onto the roof in short order.
From my COBB with @cutestkilla: The Rat and the River
I’ve always wanted to be part of one of Snow’s famous ‘lunch meetings’. Penelope’s told me about them. Simon thinks better with food, so all information is shared and ideas are circulated over meals in Simon’s team. I used to wish to be British myself so I could join his team and take part in these comfortable meetings of minds. I love food and I love talk, especially talk about disease. What could be more enticing than spending time over sandwiches with the famous Snow’s angels?
Especially one particular angel.
From Tiktok Dancer:
Penny, Shep, Agatha and I are all staring at him, jaws hanging loose in our surprise at his unexpected eloquence and passion. Baz just sips on his fruity cocktail and smiles back at us demurely.
I suddenly realize how little I know about this man I’ve fallen head over heels for. And not knowing makes me itch—I can’t stand it.
“What dream are you pursuing?” I blurt.
Baz looks at me steadily, and I can almost see him revising his first answer in his head.
From my Visitor Baz AU:
Baz is dead.
Baz is dead.
I can’t understand it. The idea that Baz, my terrible roommate, will never snark at me from his desk across the room from mine again…that he’ll never use up all the hot water with his endless showers or wear his uniform in such a way that makes it look designer while all the rest of us look boring. He’ll never suck down a rat in the catacombs or earn the highest score on a Magic Words exam.
Baz is dead.
From Saving Simon Snow (I’ve got to reread this one to get my mojo back on it, I think. But here’s six new shortish sentences):
In all our years of cohabitation, I’ve never seen Simon truly lose his temper with Bunce. With me, certainly. Hundreds of times. In the Catacombs, he was irritable and defiant. But now? The moment Bunce grabs hold of his arm, Simon goes off.
From CORB #1, Baby Mine with @argumentativeantitheticalg
His voice takes on that haughty, lecturing tone I used to hate so much. Or at least that I used to think that I hated. It made me want to slam him against the wall and get in his face.
I think I maybe just wanted to get my face on his face. Why was I so fucking stupid?
I’m lost in rumination on my own failings when the rise in volume from the crib and the pointed clearing of Baz’s throat both bring me back.
From CORB #2: The Stoves Come On At Night, with @ebbpettier
I wake up.
For several seconds, I blink groggily into the early morning light. I try to catch at the wisps of the dream I was having, but they’re fading.
I can’t have been asleep for more than a couple of hours. Like I’d planned, I’d slept a few hours last night and then got up at three a.m. Three hours later, after I’d finished a sketchy patrol, I headed back to bed as the first rays of the sun were just breaking over the horizon.
It can’t be more than 8 am now. What on earth woke me up? Even if I can’t really remember it, I’d been having such a pleasant dream…
Suddenly, I realize that the annoying buzzing sound I hear is an alarm–the fire alarm!
Tags and howdies to: @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed, @fatalfangirl,
@melodysmash, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean,
@raenestee, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz,
@krisrix, @shemakesmeforget, @confused-bi-queer, @nightimedreamersghost, @mooncello,
@shrekgogurt, @cosmicalart, @theearlgreymage, @iamamythologicalcreature, @ileadacharmedlife,
@thehoneyedhufflepuff, @facewithoutheart, @thewholelemon, @skeedelvee, @ivelovedhimthroughworse
@messofthejess, @best--dress, @noblecorgi, @alexalexinii, @hushed-chorus,
@rimeswithpurple, @blackberrysummerblog, @cutestkilla, @letraspal, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe,
@wellbelesbian, @ic3-que3n, @emeryhall, @larkral, @youarenevertooold,
@j-nipper-95, @ebbpettier, and @argumentativeantitheticalg
#co/ws/awtwb#six sentence sunday#snowbaz#simon snow series#carry on through the ages#carry on reverse bang#cotta 2023#carry on big bang
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Some advice from AU Calebs!
Heck yeah I did it! Finally i finished ONE of the HUNDREDS AU crossover ideas I have in my head!! Crossovers are fun guys!! (I apologise for a bad english in advance. Writing this it a rush.)
"It's ok to ask for help." (A Reverse Of Feathers And Mud by @jess-the-vampire)
I couldn't make a crossover meme without the legend. Sorry, not sorry. He is such a sad lad but tries to stay positive and be happy for his family uydfykudsutsudskudsluds (*dies*). I have to admitt, Caleb's dad energy is too strong for me to handle without wanting a hug him. No wonder! He was THE grandpa for centuries straight without a break. At least Caleb gets his whole family together in the end. Comics with him and either Hunter and Philip or Luz and Eda make me run in cirles around the room aaaa.
"You are not a burden." (Brother's Keeper by @idoodlestuffsometimes)
Damn, you definetly created one of the darkest AU in the fandom. Each time I re-read AU related posts I scream my lungs out because it is so angsty and so great. I am genuinely scared of your Belos ngl, because.. this man didnt loose anything and he still proceeds to do all that stuff. Enconter with him has 0 survival rate.
POOR CALEB! At least in the world of memes he had an opportunity to flee the captivity twice (the bald head and the car). This man had no moment of mental rest for centuries oh my God. One of my friends wants to fight his brother personally to protec Caleb at all cost sksksk. Well, at least Hunter will always have an actually loving relative! And if the happy ending is going to be canon, I think the future looks great, especially knowing how much pain all your characters go through currently. (And I think both Caleb and Hunter would need the "you are not a burdain" affirmations. At least some form of support in their situation.)
You said in the latest ask-answer that BK!Caleb was supposed to have white streaks in his hair so I attempted to add them. Hope they look fine! Colors for the outfit I got from Belos, so they would match, I guess???
"Murder is okay." (Loose Strings by @oldmanpip)
My bro, brother, friend... Despite you being not to involved on the discord server, my brain is still rotting with your great awesome AUs. And I know you know that. Your Caleb is really loose in all sences of that word and I love that. Wonder if your AUs will ever be available to the public. Because oh boy oh boy they deserve to be recognised. (Loose Caleb is such a conservative grandpa who never did anything wrong, wdym?)
"Your feelings matter." (Pip In Time by @celestialscribbler)
Honestly? Man, your comic is the reason I got invested in Witteclaw couple at all. Even if the "Pip in time" is not their story, but you wrote their teen romance so sweetly. Those two melted my heart... I scream each time I re-read your comic for 100th time. Just WOAH my brain goes brrr! And Caleb as a character is also written really really well. I love him so much. He is such good brother but MAN HE NEEDS A BREAK FROM BEING AN ADULT! BOY! Insirt crying and heart emojis here.
(PS: hope you still care about your health!)
My thoughts:
I have been drawing this for more than a month I think? And the only reason for that is my university. I hope to actually get an ADHD diagnosis because something is clearly wrong with me. But thats not the point.
There are so many ideas in my head. Goofy and not. The only problem is that I have less and less ability to do what I want lately. I wish I could bring them all to life, but at the same I dont know if anyone will be interested. Would AU crossovers look too self-indulgent? Or nah? Idk. (Just Grimwalker-Isle already has so much potential for stupid ridiculous fun I am runnin on coffee juice.)
Litteraly my mind is plagued with different fun plots and possibilities I am going crazy. But I also have A TON of WIPs that I need to finish. Perhaps I will attempt to manage everything at once, but, no promises.
Wish me luck on my exams!
#ShuraBibertush#Bibertush_TOH#the owl house#toh#toh fan art#TOH#the owl house au#toh au#owl house au#a reverse of feathers and mud au#areverseoffeathersandmudau#a reverse of feathers and mud#Brother's Keeper AU#Loose Strings AU#toh pit au#caleb wittebane#evelyn clawthorn#evelyn clawthorne#cavelyn#witteclaw#wittecouple#meme#didgital art
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Miles G's love languages are same as any Miles: words of affirmation and acts of service, but the latter is the one he most often favors expressing. So with that said, during that time when he and Margo are growing closer in their friendship, something he does a lot for her is mod her games. Miles G only has some experience with video game hacking: he's homebrewed his 3DS, hacked into a game here and there, has a few abandoned WIP games with only a few rooms and a boss programmed. That's about it. It was a small hobby he picked up and then dropped after a little while out of disinterest or lack of motivation.
Playing video games is Miles G and Margo's go-to activity when they're hanging out alone together, and something he'd always pay attention to is whenever Margo would criticize the games she's playing. Like if they had too many bugs, or bad levels, backtracking, poor combat, or issues with the game's story. And then she'll say how much it sucks whenever it's a game she personally actually enjoys, because the flaws are there and annoying and could easily not be there then her game would be perfect.
So he'd sit there thoroughly listening to her detailed critiques, filing them away in his mind for later, then thinking back to them when a light bulb goes off in his head, he thinks "wait. I know how to mod games!" Ofc that night he realizes how little he remembers how to do and cycles through YouTube for a refresher course.
So the next time they hang out he asks if Margo can lend him the exact game she complained about, then returns it to her less than two weeks later and asks if she can play it again. Margo thinks he's acting odd but goes along with it assuming he probably just really might love this game, and pops it in. So Margo's playing it, and is immediately thrown off because the things are different. The choppy combat flows better and now the player is equipped with an ultrasonic uber-powered rose-shaped shoulder cannon as well as First Tsurugi from Final Fantasy. There's a fast travel mechanic in the form of the player teleporting like a Limitless user from Jujutsu Keisen (so like, the player has animation with the hands and then the surrounding ground getting smashed. Like in the show). AND. there's all these new cutscenes added in, with noticeably wonkier animation and the characters straight up just. have different voice actors--many of which sound strangely like vocal impressions she swears she's heard Gwen do before. But they actually fix the story??? OMG? The game is...perfect now???
So she finishes the game in *one* sitting, and turns to Miles G like, "you modded it??? As in, MODDED it. You didn't just go to a dimension where this game is good and nab a copy?" And Miles G answers yes like it's no big deal.
(That night Margo phones Gwen up at an ungodly hour, "....Gwen???!!" Interrogates Gwen about what Miles G did and Gwen, barely conscious goes "oh that's what that was for? He just sent me texts and had me repeat them into a mike")
And bro Margo is FLOORED. Firstly bc like this boy basically retooled an entire game in two weeks, which is wild, but also used all her critiques and ramblings about what would've fixed the game for her and remembered ALL of it??? Like she's realizing what a good listener he is above everything else rn, also she's like, wondering if he could teach her
So now they're both modders, having found a new activity to do together on hangouts, just modding mid games to make them peak. They consider themselves better game devs than the actual professional game devs now
#atsv#spiderverse#across the spiderverse#spider man: across the spider verse#miles g morales#earth 42 miles#earth 42#margo kess#spiderbyte#prowlerbyte#spiderverse headcanons#prowler miles#atsv margo#gwen stacy
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idk how i keep writing about our boy happy, like i have so many WIPs and two of them are chibs & juice, literally almost done and my brain said “but how about we write one for happy AND finish it all in one day.” like ?? idk guys he has a choke hold over me and i’m not even complaining i love his ass 🫶🏻 anyways here’s to my happy fans i hope y’all enjoy some smut. this also gets no title bc my brain ain’t working enough for that right now, so sorry xx
SMUT! 18+ ONLY my friends, if you’re younger than 18 please exit left! lots of smut, didn’t proof read
“we’re gonna head to the porn studio boys, gotta talk some business with Luann.” jax says, hoping on his bike. tig stands with happy as he throws his hands up.
“come on man, we’re standing right here and you’re just gonna rub that in our faces.?” jax smirks and straps his helmet on.
“never said you guys couldn’t tag along, i know how much the two of you like pussy.” tig needs to hear no more as he walks over to his bike and hops on. happy decides to join them as he does in-fact love pussy and he definitely loves porn.
_________
immediately when entering Luann’s porn studio, tig is gone. he’s looking around the studio, he’s looking at the half naked women strutting around, he finally stops when he sees a girl on girl scene being filmed. not even a fire could take his eyes off this action. happy follows, looking around himself. he sees spots Luann speaking with a familiar face.
“holy shit.” he mutters out, he recognizes your face and body from anywhere. he’d never admit he had a favorite porn star, he did enjoy most of what he watched, but you in fact got him off quicker and made him harder than any other woman he’d watched on screen. he swears he’s seen every film you’ve had, girl on girl, straight, threesomes, but his favorites were your solos. he notices the tight royal blue dress hugging your body and he feels himself growing harder. once he sees you break away from Luann he decides to take his chances. he watches you wrap a bottle of water around his your lips, he comes over and grabs a bottle as well.
“hey.” he says, feeling like he can hardly speak, you turn around and smile at him.
“hey.” you say back to him, noticing the leather that matches your new business partners SAMCRO. he stares at you for a moment, unsure of what else to say, you decide to break the silence. “cat got your tongue?” you ask him, he puts a head on the back of his head.
“uh. no. you just look familiar.” he says, happy doesn’t usually feel nervous around anyone especially women but he felt like he was meeting a big time celebrity which he guessed that was somewhat accurate.
“which movies your favorite baby?” you ask, running a hand down his leather. he smirks, looking you up and down.
“i prefer the solos.” you smile at him, usually the answer you got from men was girl on girl. you grab his hand, leading him to the back room where you and your girls got ready. thankfully most of them were sniffing around the SAMCRO members, giving them a good time. once the two of you were in the room, you kiss him on the lips roughly.
he runs a hand up to your ass and grasps it, before you know it you feel your back against the wall. you pull away from the kiss to help him take off his kutte, as he’s doing this he also sheds the shirt he wore under. you notice all the tattoos and his muscular body, feeling your body heat up. you’d slept with plenty of men and women, you would think being on camera would take some embarrassment away from off camera sex, but not with this man. at this moment you realize you didn’t even get his name.
you pull him by the waist band of his jeans and drop to the floor to your knees, undoing his belt and letting his jeans fall to the ground. once his boxers come off, your eyes grow and a loud “wow” leaves your lips. he smirks at hearing this, he would never not feel proud hearing about how big his dick was but he was ecstatic to hear it come from his favorite porn stars lips. he feels himself twitch as you wrap your lips around him. he’s met with a hand wrapping around him as well, even tho you were some what of an expert at the matter, you weren’t about to embarrass yourself a choke on this man. he notices your hair getting in the way and decides to hold it up for you, his fist wrapping tightly around it. you pull him out of your mouth, running your tongue from the base to his head. he moans out at this action, he pulls your hair as a signal to come up to him.
before you know it, you’re laying out on the couch. happy lifts your dress up, revealing that you have no panties on underneath.
“shit girl. no panties?” he asks, you pull the top of your dress down, revealing your breast. you feel your nipples become hard from the cold air.
“makes it easier for moments like these.” he grins, pulling you to the edge of the couch, he slides himself into you without warning. you let out a moan, you were already soaking wet. usually it took a little lube for the shoots, but this man did something that no one else had done in a long time. he’s thrusting slowly, but steady.
“god damn.” he mutters out, running his hand to your breast. “pussy is even better in person than then on camera. you know how many times i’ve fantasied about this?” he hears you let out the oh so familiar moans that before he’d only heard in porn. you lift your head up and grin.
“is it all you ever dreamed of?” you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to your face, kissing him sloppily and wiping away his sweat with your hand. he can feel the tops of your nails sticking into his neck. “shit. even better than that.” he says, thrusting himself into you harder than before. your moans mimicked what he has heard many times before, but it seemed more enjoyable this time around, much more authentic.
you wiggle yourself out of the corner of the couch and manage to get him to lay on his back, happy was taken back. he was used to doggy style or being in control in missionary, he couldn’t even remember the last time a woman rode him. you ease down onto his cock, “fuck.” he let’s out, he can’t believe what’s happening, it still doesn’t feel real. he feels like a teenage boy again fucking someone for the first time. you grind yourself on him, taking his hands and placing them on your hips to help guide you.
“how many times have you thought of this baby?” you ask, he digs his nails into the side of your hips, making you gasp in pleasure.
“you don’t even know.” you feel pressure building inside of you, ready to explode. “you sure do know how to work a man’s fucking cock.” the words send you over the edge, happy feels you clenching around him.
“oh my god!” you scream out, he watches your face, although he remembers plenty of the orgasms you’d had in your movies, he’d never seen one like this before. you continue riding him, finishing off your orgasm. you feel him go to push you off so he can cum himself, but you hold him down with your hands still grinding onto him.
“oh now, don’t think you didn’t do all that work to not get to cum inside of me.” you say, moving your hands to his face.
“fuck!” he let’s out, he releases into you and enjoys every second of it. no second thoughts. once the both of you have finished, you hop off him and grab the closest towel that had your initials printed onto it, specially made for you of course as you were one of Luann’s biggest earners. you throw one to happy as well, he stands up, cleaning himself off. you throw on a bright pink robe, throw your hair up into a bun and walk over to him.
“you know, i never did catch your name.”
“happy.” he says, you chuckle for a second until you realize he’s being serious.
“cute, i like it. we should do this again happy.” you say, grabbing your water and taking off to the restroom. he finished cleaning himself off and gives himself a pat on the back, realizing now he can have the real deal instead of his screen.
#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy x reader#sons of anarchy smut#happy lowman#happy lowman soa#happy lowman x reader#happy lowman x you#happy lowman smut#happy lowman imagine
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Ao3 Wrapped
Thanks for tagging me @energievie and @mybrainismelted. My feelings towards fandom have definitely soured in the last few months and I'm taking a step back for a while, but when I was tagged in this I had a good time looking back and seeing that I did produce a body of work this year worth being proud of.
How many words have you written this year?
173,845
How many works did you publish this year?
6 fics and a couple handfuls of art
What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?
Losing Dogs
What work of yours has the most hits?
Mine all Mine has more than twice anything else I have written this year. Which is disappointing tbh, I'm trying to pretend it's just because it’s been up the longest.
What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?
Both Sides Now surprised me, I didn't really think much of it as I was writing.
Favorite title you used.
Tied between Toothache and Man of Metropolis Steals our Hearts
If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?
I use song lyrics for my titles and used Mitski songs for two.
Pairing you wrote the most for this year?
Only Gallavich
What work was the quickest to write?
I wrote both Toothache in a couple days because I decided kind of last minute I wanted to write something for Halloween.
What work took you the longest to write?
Losing Dogs is the longest so it took several months, but City on a Hill was a wip for a while because I struggled with the second half and how to write Yevgeny's character and took a break from it for a while.
How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?
This is my crazy list of ideas that I started back in January and kept adding onto as the year went on and I kept coming up with new fic ideas.
What’s your longest work of the year?
Losing Dogs - 86k
What’s your shortest work of the year?
Man of Metropolis Steals our Hearts - 2.5k
What WIP are you taking into next year with you?
The only full on WIP is Nine Ball, which is like 2/3 finished and I just kind of poke at half heartedly every so often, I don't know if I will ever finish it. I guess Time of the Season is also kind of a WIP, but I don't know if I will finish that either to be honest. If I keep writing I'll pull from the above list, but honestly I don't know what I will publish.
What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?
Angst with a Happy Ending if I had to guess
Your favorite character to write this year?
Mickey probably, he's my favorite to write always. I loved writing Mandy in Losing Dogs, and I actually enjoyed writing Yevgeny in City on a Hill, and young Ian in Both Sides Now.
The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?
Writing anything that involves kids is really hard for me (Franny, Yevgeny, Liam depending on the season, etc.) I just have no idea how the timeline of development works etc. and that makes writing them hard.
Which work of yours have you reread the most?
I haven't done a dedicated read of any of my fics, but I'll skim through sections when I get a random comment
How many kudos in total did you get this year?
2,328
Which work has the most comments?
Both Sides Now and Losing Dogs both have 30 comments, but honestly it's hard to tell with my fics because I am inconsistent and bad about replying to comments even though they literally make my day (sorry)
Did you do any collaborative works this year?
I made art for the summer camp fic Light My Fire by @solitarycreaturesthey and @jrooc
Did you write any gifts this year?
Kind of, if answering prompts from my mutuals counts. I also sent out my watercolor holiday paintings for Christmas which have almost all made it to their final destinations
Did you receive any gifts this year?
No, I don't think so.
What’s your most common category?
AU and canon divergent I think.
What do you listen to while writing?
I made a great playlist for Losing Dogs that I listened to while writing and I really liked having a curated list of songs to set the tone, but mostly I listen to lo-fi or jazz, lyrics can be a distraction for me while I'm trying to focus on writing.
Favorite work you wrote this year?
I've come to accept that Losing Dogs isn't other people's favorite, it is mine. To those who did manage to get through it and left kind comments, I appreciate it endlessly <3
Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?
I really loved this passage from City on a Hill, talking about Mickey's feelings about Yevgeny as he considers meeting him 10 years later.
Suddenly a new side of the story became clear. Alongside the resentment and anger that the whole situation with Yevgeny ever happened, was a feeling of loss. A frustration that after spending a year struggling to accept at Ian and Svetlana’s insistence that he was a father and should act like one, as soon as he started to try and figure it out, the kid he was ripped away, and Mickey was left alone in more ways than one. Ian reached over gently and grabbed Mickey’s hand where it was laying limply over the side of his armrest, soothing his thumb over the knuckles there. “I never thought about that” Ian said reverently “I’m so sorry.” Mickey turned to face him and lifted the sunglasses off his face, squinting with one eye against the sun “Don’t be like that, it’s fine. I just didn't want you to think I was a total asshole who fuckin’ hates the kid.” “I don’t think you’re an asshole,” Ian said honestly. Mickey snorted, “well I am. At least sometimes, but not completely about this.” Ian toyed with his lip, deciding that the sun was getting too hot for both of them, “we should go wash up. But uhm-Mickey, if you ever change your mind about wanting to see him, it’s no big deal. He’d love to meet you - as my husband.” This time, instead of brusquely shutting him down, Mickey just nodded slightly, thanking him and letting him know he’d be there in a minute. Before Ian went inside, he paused at the top of the porch and watched Mickey for a beat, his soft body laid out so casually in the nearly idilic grassy plot of their backyard, a person might mistake him for peaceful.
Biggest surprise while writing this year?
Just how much I have in me I guess. Sometimes it feels like I could write these little stories about these two idiots all day.
tagging:
@gallawitchxx @catgrassplantdad @callivich @mmmichyyy
@spookygingerr @stocious @blue-disco-lights @sam-loves-seb
@solitarycreaturesthey @atthedugouts @francesrose3
@heymrspatel @creepkinginc @softmick @mickeym4ndy
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Heyheyhey 👋 Happy holidays!! I bring some questions 🎨 What's favorite drawing you made in 2024? 👀 What's favorite drawing you saw in 2024? 📖 What's favorite fanfic you read in 2024? �� Planning anything special for next year? You can answer any questions you want, all of them or none at all! I would love to see stuff you enjoyed or proud of! ✨
Hey hey hey!😆 Happy holidays to you, too!💕 I would gladly respond to the questions!🤌🏽:
Favourite drawing of this year:
I'm honestly kinda disappointed in myself for not drawing as much as I planned to since uni was just continuously kicking my ass🥲 I really wanted to finish as many wips as I can, make content for my planned Aus, and much more, but... life can be full of wonders in ruining your schedule🫠 but! I do love with what I came up with!:
Those two have such a special place in my heart🥹🫶💕
I made them when I was in my lowest, so they gave comfort when I never knew that I needed it, and still do whenever I look at them🥹
Favourite art this year:
Tbh, I never thought of what could possibly be my favourite art?🤔 like anything that I liked, reblogged, or gave me a boost of inspiration are treasures that I love to collect😔💕
Favourite fanfic this year:
As someone who absolutely adores reading fanfics, kicking my feet and giggling while reading on my bed or the hallway in uni, I'm sad to say that I never got around to read anything this year😭 at some point, I couldn't find the time nor the energy to do so, but! But! BUT! I did read a fanfic a few weeks ago, when I did find myself having a bit of a free time, and it honestly was the best wake-up call that I never knew that I needed it🥹🫶💕:
This fic made by yours truly, @venelona !:
As someone who has their own Au of Ada!Atsushi and Pm!Dazai, this was just... so perfect to give me inspiration and energy to finally do my own work someday!🥹💖 so, really, I'm grateful for stumbling upon this masterpiece🙏🏽💕
Aaand that's all for this year!💖 I may not done as much as I wanted this year, my schedule is, as usual, messed up, health and energy was a complete disaster this year, but I do look forward in becoming more organised and more energetic next year!🙏🏽 I really do want to share so many brainrots, content with a lot of you before I go completely insane with me and my own thoughts lmao
And that's all from me, see you all next year!🫶💕
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Word Search Tag Game
Rules: In a new post use the words below (or choose your own) to find where they appear in your WIP/s and share those parts.
I've been tagged in this a bunch of times, so I'm going to answer a bunch of posts and then queue them so they don't get flood anyone's dash!
From @hurricane105, I was given the words: breath, light, velvet
Breath: from part of the puppet Zelda post-totk angst fest I'm doing with @sheikfangirl:
He loves and hates the times that she is close. Hovering over him, like his first night on the surface, and whispering into his neck like when she saved him from the nightmarish hands. She is never quite her, never quite right, but he can feel her. Her breath, cold against his skin and her eyes haunted as she whispers to him that she is waiting for him.
Light: Too many options for "light" in Zelink fic, so I'm going with a Final Fantasy VIII fic I've been working on for ages and swear I'm going to finish it. Disaster Bi Irvine. Vampires. New Orleans aesthetic.
“Did she now. Come, come.” Laurent leads them to a window beside the aquarium. The couple from before have since vacated, no doubt to a bedroom, or closet, or just another unoccupied corner, and for the moment, Irvine and Laurent have the room to themselves. Laurent’s face glows in the light from the aquarium, blue reflecting in eyes that sweep over Irvine in a way that almost makes him blush. “You can see it from here,” he says, pointing. “Valencia seems to thrive on finding wayward souls along the waterfront and bringing them to her parties.” There are two blocks worth of rooftops between them and a dark strip only identifiable as water because of the fragmented reflection of moonlight.
Velvet: In all of my numerous documents including the one above where I KNOW I have visualized velvet drapery, I don't have the word velvet. So I went with silk instead. This is from a future chapter of Ashes:
“I’ll take you,” she says. “If Impa says it’s okay.” “It’s true, they don’t allow men there?” “It’s true,” Zelda says. She thinks of the silks under Link’s stairs. Zelda said they would go together, so she could meet Riju. Is Riju like Urbosa, she wonders. How different is the desert of now from the one in her memories? “I would like that,” Paya says. “I haven’t traveled very much. Grandmother said it wasn’t safe. But she would probably let me go if it was with you and Master Link.”
I know most of the zelink community has already done this so I'm gonna start by tagging my FFVIII friends, given there's proof I haven't abandoned that fandom in this post! @aleheartilly @angelosearch @suleikashideaway @irishais. You words are: rough, yellow, glass
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🩺!
🩺 - "Something Med School Didn't Cover" or the 'Nurse!Eddie' fic!
I'm FINALLY getting around to replying to some of these WIP asks (genuinely when I posted that ask game, I expected to have more time than I ended up having and here we are literally a month later oops....)
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“So, Eddie,” Chimney asked, his mouth full with a bite of lasagna as he spoke. “Got anyone special in your life?”
He waggled his eyebrows as Maddie shoved him in the shoulder.
“Stop talking with your mouth full,” she scoffed. “Are you six years old?”
“Sometimes we wonder,” Buck teased.
“Like you’re any better,” Chimney sassed back.
“I am,” Buck smiled, smug. “I always swallow first.”
Eddie choked on his water- as did Bobby and Ravi. Athena dropped her head in her hands, Chimney barked out a laugh, and Maddie rolled her eyes.
“Jesus Christ, Buck,” she said.
“What?” Buck asked, innocently, before he widened his eyes with a dramatic fake gasp. “Oh did you think I was talking about-”
“That’s enough,” Bobby said through barred teeth, giving a pointed look to Buck. “Some of us actually want to enjoy eating our meal.”
“Just trying to keep it entertaining,” Buck raised his hands in mock defense.
“If we wanted dinner and a show, we would’a gone to the drive in,” Athena said, raising an eyebrow at Buck- one of the many looks of hers Eddie has learned means ‘don’t fuck with me.’
“Yes, ma’am,” Buck grumbled, returning to his food like a scolded child.
He had no business being that cute.
Eddie was about to stab his eye out with his fork.
“Anyway,” Chimney said. “Eddie, you never answered my question. Got anyone special in your life?”
“Just Chris and Abuela,” Eddie replied, taking a bite of Bobby’s delicious food.
“So you’re single and ready to mingle?” Chimney asked, waggling his brows.
“What, are you gonna be his wingman?” Athena asked with a small smirk.
“I’m just curious!” Chimney defended. “Geez, let’s all gang up on Chimney today...”
“It’s easy to do,” Ravi said, timidly, earning a fist bump from Buck.
Chimney narrowed his eyes, looking between the two of them before returning his scrutinizing gaze at Ravi. “Are you almost finished with the buffering on the chrome?”
“Y- yes,” Ravi said, his ears turning red.
“Good,” Chimney replied. “You can do the rest the right way by using the buffering tool that Buck lied and said we didn’t have.”
“What?” Ravi exclaimed, his eyes growing wide.
“Have you thought about dating now that you’re starting to settle, Eddie?” Maddie asked, and Eddie felt his throat tighten.
“He doesn’t like to date because of Chris,” Buck answered for him, everyone’s heads turning to him.
“And how do you know this?” Chimney asked.
“Because everytime I try to set him up with someone, he never lets me,” Buck replied.
“Maybe you just suck at being a wingman,” Chimney pointed out.
“You got my sister pregnant before you told her you liked her,” Buck smirked. “I don’t think you have a great track record for setting people up when you couldn’t even set yourself up.”
“Hey, don’t drag me into this measuring contest,” Maddie rolled her eyes. “I have no interest in it.”
“Besides, I’m at an unfair advantage if it’s Maddie judging that contest,” Chimney said with a wink, and Buck choked on his drink.
“Can we not talk about this at the dinner table?” Athena said, giving both of them another look.
“No, but we can talk about it at the lunch tab-” Buck started, but was cut off with a slap to the back of the head by Bobby.
--------
#911 abc#911#eddie diaz#911 on abc#buddie#evan buckley#buddie 911#buck and eddie#911 buddie#buddie ao3#ao3 buddie
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Fic Wrap-Up Meme: 2024
(repurposing an old tag game to yap about fics, and i encourage anyone else who wants to do the same!)
FANDOMS - Baldur's Gate 3, Dragon Age, Pathfinder: Kingmaker, Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous, Pillars of Eternity
3 FANFICS WITH THE MOST KUDOS IN 2024 -
Pagan's Prayer (BG3):
Shadowheart isn't accustomed to placing her trust in other people. Neither is Naia. But these are interesting times, and stranger things have happened. (A loose re-telling of the game, with a focus on Tav/Shadowheart romance)
Songs of Elysium (PWOTR):
A collection of small one-shots and stories woven into the tale of Piper Chanterelle- a tiefling bard who only ever wanted to survive, until she suddenly found the power of Elysium dancing at her fingertips.
Of Diamonds And Dust (DA):
Marja Aeducan and Darvis Brosca lead lives as different as one could possibly imagine. Marja Aeducan, a member of the nobility and second in line for the throne, has spent her life maneuvering the dangerous political machinations of the Diamond Quarter. Meanwhile, Darvis Brosca, a Casteless dwarf rejected by society, does whatever it takes to survive on the streets of Dust Town. When a Grey Warden arrives in Orzammar, the lives of Marja and Darvis are forever changed. Driven from the city by misfortune and betrayal, the two must join the ranks of the Wardens in order to save their own lives. But the surface has far greater dangers than they realize. The noble and the thief will need to stand together if they're going to fight against the oncoming Blight, the brewing civil war, and the strange surface malady called "sunburn".
FAVORITE OPENING LINE FROM A FIC IN 2024 -
(limiting this to one-shots for the sake of simplicity! i don't have the patience to sort through one-shot collections and multi-chapters sorry)
Command Me To Be Well (BG3):
Ursa’s mouth is full of copper.
FAVORITE CLOSING LINE FROM A FIC IN 2024 -
(same rule as above for simplicity!)
Violent Delight (BG3):
It’s a weak barb, but it’s enough to let Naia leave with some small semblance of pride still intact, and to let herself pretend she does not feel Araj’s smug, crimson gaze on her as she goes.
FIC I’M MOST PROUD OF IN 2024 -
i've answered this before in various asks, but it's a tie between Love & War and Burn Clean (both pwotr fics!)
Love & War grew way beyond what i originally had planned for it, but i love how it turned out and it's one of my favorite longfics that i've written- and it feels so good just to finally have it completed
Burn Clean was just something very different than my usual fics, but i loved putting it together and i'm really happy with how it turned out. i've been working on a follow-up of sorts, which has stalled a bit as i hit an inspiration wall but which i do plan to finish- the whole worldstate her just really gets my wheels turning!
NEW THINGS I HAVE TRIED IN 2024 -
as i said, Burn Clean was a fic where i got to mess around with a different kind of style, and that was very fun! i also wrote my first official fic for Ursa, my BG3 Dark Urge, and i have so many more ideas for her that i hope to add to the collection!
GOALS FOR 2025 -
despite what i just said about new ideas i have so many wips to finish...i do plan to make some progress on those! but i'll still be coming back to new ideas of course, and i do have some one-shots already planned out for femslash feb!
#fic wrap up#not tagging anyone but i would love to see other people do it 👀#yes im talking about you#fanfic
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A Year in Writing: 2024
Reviews for 2020 (222k), 2021 (205k), 2022 (95k), 2023 (20-30k?)
Total wordcount as of Dec. 31: 74.090, which is a monthly average of 6174 words. So 74k is nowhere near close to the 200+k that I used to do, right? But don't be fooled, it's AMAZING 74k, because after two years of utter struggle I am finally having fun again with writing! So 74k might be even a bigger win than the 200k I used to do. Big Win. Like, Big.
General review: Remember (you don't, neither did I, but my last review clearly states it) how I wrote in my yearly writing review last year:
The blorbos might even be knocking at my door again - quietly and very politely, but I can see them. So, here’s hoping.
And boy. Little did I know.
So, this has been a very good writing year. Don't ask me what was going on in march and april, I honestly have no idea. Zero. No memory. As opposed to former years it was not like some big scary thing going on, I guess I was just busy with work maybe? Not feeling it? Who knows? Even better: who cares? Because bitch, I came back strong!
First of all, I did start tracking again, which now gives us nice statistics. And I set a monthly "goal" of 5k, which is something I can do, but like not as an actual goal but more as a number for tracking. And despite these two blurry nonexistent months I did that great.
But it's not about numbers. It's about being back in my since-I-can-think-favourite-hobby and outlet, and I am having fun with it again. There has been plenty of days when I didn't write anything, and I only wrote when I felt like/inspiration hit. But more often than not, when it hit, it HIT.
And I have to give a big shoutout to @kyratittyfish for this. (Which was already mentioned as a highlight in my 2022 review! Love ya, friend. <3) A lot of these words would not have happened if we didn't have that amazing Berlin trip in May with all the ideas that it sparked and if she wasn't such an amazing encouraging friend who always supported my late night "listen, what if..."-messages. Who always went all in "do tell me more about it" and "I like how you think" and I don't think I have to tell you, but that is fuel for writers. So the biggest part of these words would not have happened if dear Kyra wouldn't have supported all those small and huge what if's I have encountered this year. You know who you are, girl. (And then we met again and went on a fabulous winter island trip which has been another highlight of this year for me. <3)
So yeah, very good year, after two very hard years. Here's hoping for 2025.
Things posted: Plenty! Which includes two oneshots finished and posted on AO3 (a James/Steve ME3 banter and a James/Shepard post war scene) as well as a couple of WIPS from the post Akuze fic that has basically been my main focus this year (with a side of post war angst and some ME3 smut, mind me), which was tense knees, about cake, TBI, sleeping in the Kodiak, jello, two aces in disguise, post akuze promotion, sign language, James wrecks his knee, Corporal Giles, being stuck.
Things I would like to do next year: Write? Ehehehehe. Well, I would like to bring those MANY many many words of post Akuze notes into something I can start to post on AO3. That would be cool. As much as I love the fic, it's giving me a little trouble in terms of putting all those notes and ideas into one form to publish a fic with it. I would like to do that soon. Also, most recently the blorbo sleeper agents from 20 years ago woke up again, so maybe we will also see some King Arthur (2004) fic next year? Who knows?
Most important: take it easy and have fun. That's what I wanna do writing wise next year.
Since the Corporal Giles mini WIP was my most popular things this year, have it here once more.
“How’s Giles doing?” It’s a macabre question to ask, but it cuts to the chase. Shepard shrugs. The answer is as simple as fucked up. “Better.” Well, obviously Giles isn’t better. There’s no way he can get better, because he’s dead. He’s rotting in the dirt of Akuze, eaten alive by thresher maw acid, cowering behind a rock right next to Reda. He’s taken most of the hit, and she hasn’t (still got enough damage to need a trachea transplant and eighteen percent third degree burns on her skin, but she’s alive and he’s not, so that’s that). Corporal Giles won’t get better. But he stopped haunting her every single night, and every single minute of the day, and every single art therapy session. Because he’s the only thing of Akuze she remembers and while she’s bad at drawing, she’s apparently gifted in the horror genre, and she’s gotta draw something. Maybe she’ll draw something else tomorrow. Or maybe she won’t. Because Giles is better, but he’s still dead.
#painterofhorizons writes#mostly:#mass effect#akuze#reda shepard#it's been a very good writing year I am very happy about
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My hand slipped, here's a Gax wip
I couldn't help myself so I posted the wip anyway, enjoyyy
(I don't know when I'll finish this fic, but I'm having a lot of fun writing it):
“Okay, so Max and George against me and Oscar. What do we say?” Lando pops his elbow on the net’s pole, chewing loudly on his gum as he bounces the racket on his knees.
Oscar stands behind him with his arms crossed on his chest, a cap messily pulled over his hair, staring at Lando’s back like a good scholar waiting for instructions.
George shares a quick glance with Max: the only answer he gets being a careless shrug.
“I mean-“ he says, scratching the back of his head. “Wouldn’t it be a bit, I don’t know, unbalanced? No offence to any of you, of course.” He quickly adds, but not quick enough for Max to suppress his snort.
George is not looking at him, but he doesn’t need to turn around to know he’s rolling his eyes.
But maybe he’s smiling with the wrinkles next to them, in the way he does when he’s a bit endeared by him. Maybe, he can’t know.
“Georgie, my dear. Let’s put it like this” Lando says, shaking his head. “Out of all of us, I’m the best.”
Max coughs behind him. “Bullshit.”
George has to press a fist against his mouth to cover his laugh.
“You are all crap. Max and Oscar are real real crap, while you, George, are just slightly crap. Between Max and Oscar, Osc is the crappiest.”
“Hey!” Oscar protests, glaring at the back of Lando’s head as he seems to finally wake up from his open-eyed slumber. There’s a frown between his eyebrows, George knows that he’s more than aware of how bad he is, but the competitive side of him just can’t let Lando expose him so bluntly.
They’ve all been through that.
Lando shushes him with a shake of his hand, blowing a raspberry with his mouth. “So, it’s all a matter of statistics-“
“That’s not what statistics is about, Lando.”
“Which means that it’s me and Osc against you and Max, alright?”
There’s nothing more to say that would change his mind, so George just shares an amused look with Max and wishes that for once his height might be of help.
They lose, terribly, George must admit that his pride is mostly wounded by the fact that Lando actually is the best out of all of them, so much so that Oscar doesn’t even need to raise his racket that many times and still they get horribly plastered to the ground and miss almost every single hit.
Max doesn’t seem as happy about the result either, if the way he’s gasping for air and grabbing at his bent knees is anything to go by. For a professional driver, he’s probably got the worst resistance out of all of then, given how he had already started to pant after half of the first set.
George lets himself stare at his profile for a second, the sweat dripping from his hairline to the tip of his nose, red from exertion, freckles bright under the deep flush, the cap on his head sliding slightly up as he brings a bottle to his lips.
He casts away his eyes just as Max turns around, feeling his own face heat up at the possibility of being caught, busying his own hands with one of the bottles scattered behind the white line.
“Next time.” Max exhales, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand. A droplet falls on his upper lip, George forces himself to stare at Oscar slumping tiredly against one of the walls of the club. “Next time we’re going to call Fernando and beg him to come back playing with us. He’s a lot more fun than those two idiots, I swear if I hear Lando moan Oscar’s name like a whore one more time-“
George glares at him, hoping with all his might that anyone milling around them is distant enough not to hear him. “Yeah, sure, let’s call Fernando. And how exactly would you do that?”
Max raises an inquisitive eyebrow, mouth twisting in that way he does when he thinks an interviewer is asking the dumbest question ever.
Unfortunately, George has been on the receiving end of it enough times to recognise it immediately.
“You’re still his dearest baby, aren’t you?” Max asks, cheekily winking at him, tipping the neck of his bottle towards him to point at his chest with a finger. “If there’s anyone who can bring that old bastard back, it’s you. And maybe Lance and Carlos, but mostly you.”
“Shut up.” George grumbles, hoping that Lando is not eavesdropping on them, or else he would’ve to deal with all the teasing he had desperately hoped to leave behind once Fernando had finally decided that enough was enough.
One single year of being teammates, one single year of having to deal with Fernando’s complete lack of a filter and notion of personal space, and he’ll have to bear the consequences for the rest of his life.
He does miss the old man, though, but they’ll probably catch up at the New Years’ party and George will have to endure at least a two hour long pleasant monologue about how retired life hurts Fernando to the core.
“Alright lads.” Lando shouts on the other side of the court, stretching his arms above his head just like the showoff that he is. Oscar, at least, has the decency to appear completely unfazed. “It’s dinner time, I choose the place and the pizza is on the losers.”
“Wait a second, we never agreed on that!” Max says frowning.
“Yeah, no, he’s always like this. Just makes things up, it’s his talent.” Oscar deadpans. “But I have to agree with Lando on this one, it’s a good idea.”
“Ah, no I won’t accept this. You don’t count, you didn’t even lose.” Max protests, narrowing his eyes in his direction. Oscar just shrugs innocently.
“See? It’s three against you, Max. Losers pay.” Lando concludes, twisting the damp towel around his neck just to smack it against Oscar’s shoulder.
Oscar smacks his own against his head in return, leading to a quick banter that inevitably brings the eyes of other people at the court towards them, as if being a bunch of drivers in a public space wasn’t already enough.
“But I never agreed to anything.” George mumbles.
“Either way, it’s always your fault, Russell.” Max teases, squeezing his forearm for a second as he shoulders past him.
George swats it away weakly, his skin almost feeling like burning where there’s still the faintest feeling of a pressure. When he looks down at it, he swears he can see something glowing under the fabric of his thermal T-shirt, like a flicker, or even a spark, as if his skin is trying to light up on fire all of a sudden.
“George.” He snaps his head up at the sound of his name, heartbeat growing faster in his chest, pounding, pounding, pounding- “Did you hit your head? Come on let’s go before he gets even more strange ideas.”
George has to admit that Lando knows his stuff when it comes to eating. Perhaps being as picky as he is helps in that matter, but George still appreciates the choice of a small spot, private, a bit more distant from the other tables.
They are not worried about being stopped, anyway, there’s not many tourists wondering about in Monaco when so close to Christmas, and definitely not on a weekday.
Oscar is a pretty good conversationalist, George already knew that, so he spends most of the dinner talking with him about his plans for the Holidays and his sister dealing with her first semester in Chemical Engineering while Lando and Max chat about a game or something Martin’s related, probably.
But the strange feeling on his chest remains constant, like a gentle blow against his skin, right under the sweater he had brought as a change.
From nothing more than a distant sensation, it starts to properly itch halfway through the meal, when Max moves his chair closer to the table and their knees knock against each other, and George almost jumps out of his skin at the sudden touch.
Max looks at him weirdly, his raised eyebrows trying to ask questions that George does not have the answer to, so he just shots him his politest smile and goes back to his glass of water.
Too often than he would like, the itch becomes so unbearable that he has to scratch it, shoving a hand under his sweater and rubbing his fingernails until he’s sure his skin must be all raw and red and pretends like it’s nothing.
Oscar, at least, doesn’t seem to pay it any attention, or if he notices anything weird, he’s kind enough to not point it out.
To avoid talking about racing it’s pretty easy, nobody wants to be reminded of their respective places in the Championship, with Max missing second place to Carlos for a bunch of points, George grazing the top three but not reaching it, and both Lando and Oscar still left behind.
They had all hoped for something better, with all the new regulations, with all the new possibilities. At the very least, they’re all happy for the end to Charles’ long suffering.
George does not pay at all, in the end, because as soon as he makes a gesture of taking his wallet out, Max is rolling his eyes and huffing and shoving his arm behind his back saying something about being the one who earns the most out of the four of them, anyway.
At that point, George’s chest might as well have caught on fire with how much his skin starts to burn.
He’ll blame it on stress, he thinks, because it has been a stressful bunch of months, from first to fourth in a span of a year does something to your head and George hasn’t exactly been in the best position to actually deal with whatever was going on inside of himself without people assuming that he was bending to the challenges of his new teammate.
Lando and Oscar say goodbye with half hugs and promises of catching each other during the rest of the break that George knows are just a polite way of saying that if they happen to be in the same place at the same time, then they should try and meet up.
But it will probably be impossible with Lando flying from one part of the world to another doing things that they are all pretty sure he shouldn’t be allowed to do at all.
They leave together, arguing like kids about some stupid thing with knocking shoulders and twinning heads ducked down, hip to hip, arm to arm, always doing the same thing but not quite, and George has to properly spread a hand over his chest when he’s left alone with Max and his skin starts to feel like thousands of pins prickling at it, sharp and annoying and oh so unbearable.
It’s just stress, it’s alright, he just needs to go back home and run himself a good bath with those salt things that Charles got him for Secret Santa last month, and then, tomorrow, he’ll just have to catch up with Aleix and find the number of his therapist and book an appointment or two. He’ll detox at his parents’ house and then at the New Years’ party and then he’ll be all focused for the next season.
Just like every other time.
“Russell.”
A hand wraps around his bicep, small but strong. It feels heavy on him, perhaps he lost too much weight. His heart thumps uncontrollably against his ribcage, and George knows that if he were to take a look at his chest right now, he would probably catch another spark.
But maybe it’s all in his imagination, he’s just stressed.
Max looks at him from the tip of his big nose, his eyes smiling with the corners of his lips as he pats George’s shoulder, almost affectionately. And it looks good on him, George has just changed his mind, the third place almost makes him seem more human, more reachable, even if George had already reached him last year (but it never felt as right as it does now).
He likes that.
Max squeezes one last time, knocking their arms against each other. It’s not a hug like Lando, but it’s something close to it and it makes George feel acknowledged in that weird kind of way you that only Max’s things make him feel.
“Just don’t be a stranger, yeah?” It doesn’t sound as empty as George would’ve expected.
Max disappears in Monaco’s breeze with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket and his head turned to the side to look at the coast following him, or it’s him who follows the coast. It’s not that simple to guess when George feels the way he does about him.
He stares at the broad expanse of his back until he’s nothing more than a distant figure just like any other person around and he can pretend that he’s no one in the middle of the world.
The blessing of anonymity, he muses, gripping at the hems of his sleeves.
All of a sudden, his chest feels quiet.
#gax#max verstappen/george russell#max verstappen#george russell#lando norris#oscar piastri#ao3 fanfic
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