#zero on ao3

[halcyon-hyacinth]

in light of the fanfic shit that is going around, I am going to post what I have in my ao3 bio re: my works - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexa_Alycia/profile

Disclaimers: - Please do not repost and/or resell my work. You will be found and reported. - All of my fics are posted under the pseud 'hyacinth' as 'Lexa_Alycia' is no longer in use. - Blanket permission to podcast my fics, but please credit me + let me know so I can listen! - If you create fanart of any of my fics, please tag me and/or send me the link so I can see it! - Translations are okay with permission. Otherwise please don’t repost my work. - Please do not write fics of my fics without my express permission. - I'm not open to writing collabs/comms from non-mutuals at this time. WIP updates: - Tipping Point is discontinued as of 2020. - haunted is projected to be finished May 2024 - and they were roommates is projected to be finished June 2024. - Zero is on indefinite hiatus

Last updated: February 2024

[the-millennium-curse]

You're not wrong for feeling sad or disappointed or even betrayed when a fic you put time and work into gets very little attention. But I do want to remind you that one (1) kudos is a whole-ass human being who read through what you wrote, experienced it, thought about it, and realized they felt so strongly positive about it that they had to send that feeling to you. Try to let the feeling reach you. Feel that you changed someone's day, maybe even more.

Be proud of what you've done, even as you wish you did more.

[ao3-anonymous]

Fastest Growing Fandoms on AO3 This Week (07/29/2024)

Every week I pull data on how many fics are in each fandom and compare to the previous week, then calculate the percentage increase to determine fastest growing fandoms.  Since this naturally skews towards smaller fandoms, I have included the same data filtered to Over 1k, 5k, & 10k fics.

Overall:

Over 1,000 Fics:

Over 5,000 Fics:

Over 10,000 Fics:

Source: AO3 Fandom Dashboard

[kohiandie]

if i have to watch a show full of het targcest, my instinct is to find the gay angle. 📐👁️ it helps that they deserve each other in a seven layers of hell kind of way.

[hannahvardit]

Golden Age boys

[chiqelatasblog]

Let Me Help You

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Part 4 of the Savior Series

Pairing : Bi-Han / Sub-Zero x Reader

Tropes : Married Life/Sex, Making Love, Restraints, Handcuffs, Blindfolds, Smitten Bi-Han, Possessive Behavior, Biting, Marking, Fluff and Smut, Blowjobs

Summary : “I didn’t know you had this side to you,” Bi-Han said, his voice neutral and his expression unreadable in the soft light of the candles and fireplace.

You nervously bit your lower lip, then, with an anxious voice, asked, “Will you let me?”

“To blindfold and handcuff me?” Bi-Han raised an eyebrow. “I told you I’m okay with whatever comes from you.”

This is a one-shot set during the time when the reader was Bi-Han’s wife (Noob Saibot before becoming a wraith), offering a glimpse into their relationship. It can be read as a standalone.

Author’s Note : This thought came over me yesterday, and I had to get it out of my system. It’s about the reader helping her husband *cough* relax in some intimate ways. Happy reading!❤️

.

.

.

“No,” Bi-Han said.

His tone, usually carrying a growl, softened as he looked at you. The hoarseness was still there, but now it was tamed, gentle—reserved for moments shared only between the two of you. You smiled at your husband, just a small smile, nothing grand. But you knew even the smallest smile from you was his weakness, though he’d never admit it. His gaze, however, betrayed him, softening and shining with a rare kindness that anyone could see.

When you smiled at him, looking into his eyes and tilting your head slightly, it was as if you saw him as someone who hung the moon—or, as he’d tease, like a lost puppy. You adored your husband, hard edges and cold demeanor included. It had taken you a long time to scale the walls he’d built around himself, but in the end, every effort was worth it. Bi-Han was a man who kept his distance, his tongue as sharp as a blade, capable of cutting deeper than steel. Yet, you had been patient with him, always respecting his need for space, never crossing his boundaries or making him retreat, waiting until he allowed you in.

It all began with small conversations at night. When sleep eluded you—your thoughts sometimes too loud to quiet—you would often wander the palace gardens, only to find him there as well, either pacing or gazing at the stars, lost in thought. His voice captivated you from the very first word—deep and resonant, like distant thunder. That first conversation lingered in your mind long after it ended, a memory that refused to fade. Bi-Han was undeniably handsome, with sharp, strong features and pale skin that contrasted strikingly with his ink-black hair. But to you, he was more than just handsome—he was breathtaking, especially that night when the full moon bathed him in its silvery light. His pale skin seemed to glow, outlined by the moon’s soft radiance, making him appear almost otherworldly, inviting you to touch it, though you knew well that he could snap your wrist like a twig.

After that some time, your conversations evolved into playful banter, and before either of you realized it, the banter turned into flirting. But it was you who made the first bold move—you kissed him. It was the Year of the Rabbit. While the Lin Kuei rarely held celebrations, they made exceptions for significant occasions like New Year’s to honor tradition. That night, it was just the two of you. His brothers had left for Fengjian with the others, leaving Bi-Han behind. Crowds, noise, and the chaos of so many people often overwhelmed him, though he never voiced it aloud. But you had come to know him well enough to catch the subtleties, the small tells that revealed his discomfort.

So, as usual, he stayed inside, sitting on the cushions near the fireplace after dinner. The sandalwood scent from the incense wafted through the air, soft, small talk exchanged between you, though your focus was more on him than the conversation. The golden light from the fire illuminated his strong features, making him appear almost serene in that moment. His usual furrowed brows were relaxed, his lips tilted in what you might call a ghostly smile, and his brown eyes looked warm, like dark honey. You were more than a little drunk, feeling light-headed and giddy as you looked at him, and all you could think about was how much you wanted to feel his lips against yours.

Before you knew it, you were kissing the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, your heart hammering in your chest like a wild creature. Bi-Han was surprised at first, perhaps by your boldness, and for a moment, you feared he wouldn’t respond as he stood rigidly in place. But then his lips moved—tentatively at first, gentle and restrained. It was a chaste kiss, and when it ended, he looked at you with a tenderness that made your breath catch. He told you he wanted to kiss you again, but when you were fully conscious, not drunk. He didn’t want to feel like he was taking advantage of you.

And now, a couple of years later, you were his wife.

“Please,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him with an exaggerated sweetness that almost made him smirk. “Why are you against the idea?”

Bi-Han looked away for a moment. You were sitting together on the bed, the fabric of the duvet brushing against your bare legs. This room was your shared retreat, a place where no one could intrude on your privacy. Here, Bi-Han could set aside the mantle of Grandmaster and simply be a man, your husband. Gently, you cupped his cheek, your fingers caressing his skin as you brushed a small spot under his eye. He caught your hand in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin as he met your gaze once more.

“I don’t like being vulnerable,” he murmured, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. Your expression softened as his words sank in. Before you responded, you leaned in and pressed a light, tender kiss to his lips.

“My love, do you not trust me?” you asked softly.

Bi-Han’s eyebrows furrowed, a flash of hurt crossing his features, as if the question itself had offended him.

“More than anyone.”

“Then let me take care of you,” your voice as soft and gentle as a feather drifting down from the sky. “Please, Bi-Han.”

For days now, Bi-Han had been tense, like a bomb ready to explode. The tension around him was palpable, his frustration almost tangible. A vein would appear on his forehead or neck whenever something small and insignificant irritated him—things he would normally overlook, leaving them to be handled by his brothers or his trusted right-hand men. The role of Grandmaster was a heavy burden, one he had been groomed to bear from a young age, but even he was not immune to stress. Bi-Han was a man who never showed any sign of weakness. He was closed off, unwilling to seek help or express his needs—a locked box, guarded and secure. It had taken you an immense amount of time and patience to get him to open up to you. Even now, with years of trust between you, old habits died hard. This particular bout of tension had been going on for nearly five days, and everyone around him felt the strain. His brothers were as clueless as anyone when Bi-Han got like this—coiled like a predator ready to strike, every muscle wound tight with suppressed emotion. You longed to ease his burden. It troubled you deeply when he became like this, struggling to purge the tension from his system on his own.

Bi-Han looked at you, his gaze contemplative as his other hand slowly caressed your upper thigh, where your nightgown had gathered. The cool touch of his fingers sent a shiver of goosebumps across your skin. After a moment of silence, he sighed deeply, kissed your palm, and gently lowered your hand.

“Okay, do what you want, wǒ lǎopó,”

You flashed him a bright smile, your teeth visible as you leaned in to kiss him again. “Thank you. You’ll like it, don’t worry.”

“I’m alright with whatever, as long as it comes from you,” Bi-Han said seriously, his gaze unwavering as he looked at you with eyes that always seemed feline in their slant. In the low candlelight, his deep, rich brown eyes appeared almost dark, his entire focus locked onto you. Hearing such words from someone who was so secretive, reserved, and often harsh about his feelings warmed your heart and made it flutter, making you feel cherished and deeply loved.

With a swift motion, you climbed onto his lap. Bi-Han’s large hands effortlessly gripped your bottom in a possessive hold, pulling you close against him. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders and began to gently lay him back, or rather, he allowed it—there was no way you could have managed it on your own. “I want this off,” you said, tugging at his upper garment. “Then I want you to lie here exactly like this and wait.” Bi-Han complied silently, removing his clothes in one fluid motion and tossing them somewhere in the room. He had questions in his eyes but chose to remain silent as you slid off his lap and began to move around the bedroom.

Your footsteps were light as you walked across the floor, the small fire in the fireplace nearly extinguished, with only the occasional crackle from the wood breaking the silence. A short distance away, at the bottom of your wardrobe, you retrieved a small box containing metal handcuffs and a blindfold. Your heart beat a little faster with a mix of curiosity and anxiety about your husband’s reaction. As you turned on your heels and walked back to the bed, Bi-Han’s gaze immediately fell on the items you held. His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of intrigue crossing his expression.

“I didn’t know you had this side to you,” Bi-Han said, his voice neutral and his expression unreadable in the soft light of the candles and fireplace.

You nervously bit your lower lip, then, with an anxious voice, asked, “Will you let me?”

“To blindfold and handcuff me?” Bi-Han raised an eyebrow. “I told you I’m okay with whatever comes from you.”

You were acutely aware of the trust Bi-Han was placing in you. He loathed even the thought of weakness, training his clansmen with such sterness that they often deemed him cruel for pushing them to their limits. Yet, he was even harsher with himself. The idea of being vulnerable, meant opening himself to potential danger—a concept he despised. This was a side of him he never showed to anyone, let alone exposed himself to potential risk in such an intimate way. By giving you this power, allowing himself to be handcuffed, he was placing his complete trust in you. He knew you would never betray that trust. To you, this act was a precious gift, one you would handle with the utmost care.

“Thank you,” you whispered again as you settled back onto his lap and carefully handcuffed him first. “I know these won’t hold you if you truly wanted to break free, but please keep your hands away. I want this night to be all about you.”

“You’re my wife. It’s impossible for me to keep my hands away from you,” he said, his words laced with a rare, bold honesty. You blushed at his words. Despite his usual reserve, when he did express his thoughts, he did so with striking directness. “You’re simply too beautiful, and I’m often amazed by how someone as kind and strong as you is mine. I can’t help but be drawn to you.” His tone was deeper than usual, almost whispery, as he looked at you with half-lidded eyes. His gaze was gentle, almost caressing you, but it also held a fiery, possessive intensity.

“Thank you for the kind words.” You kissed him on the lips again, letting your lips linger for a moment as you savored his icy taste. Then, pulling back slightly, you looked into his eyes. “Please, just try it for me tonight.”

“Alright, fine,” Bi-Han breathed out, his voice a low rumble. You kissed his cheeks in thanks as you began to secure his wrists with the handcuffs to the bed rail. Once his hands were restrained, you gently tied the blindfold around his eyes. You could see his muscles tense under his skin, reacting instinctively as his sight was taken away. To calm him, you placed soft kisses on his forehead and then his temples.

“It’s alright, my heart,” you murmured soothingly. “There are just the two of us here. You’re safe with me. Just focus on me and nothing else.”

Bi-Han exhaled again, his chest rising and falling beneath you, a thin mist escaping his lips and meeting the warmth of your skin. He looked stunning, his massive, muscular arms raised above his head, each muscle tensed and exposed. His body, honed by years of rigorous training, gleamed in the golden light from the flames, freckles dotting his chest and shoulders, and fine hairs tracing a tantalizing path down his abdomen.

You shifted down slightly, sitting on his pelvic bone. You could feel the hardness straining against the fabric of his pants, pressing against your groin, hot and firm. The sensation made you bite the inside of your cheek, and Bi-Han’s breathing became more ragged, betraying his growing arousal despite the minimal stimulation.

A soft chuckle escaped you, filled with fondness for the man before you. Pressing down a bit harder, both of you groaned openly. You leaned in for a deep kiss this time, and Bi-Han responded immediately. The kiss was slow and sensual, unhurried, as if time belonged solely to the two of you. Your tongues explored each other’s mouths, savoring the lingering notes of mint and a hint of wine from earlier. You kissed and sucked with deliberate slowness, your body rolling in a teasing motion. Bi-Han hissed when you gently bit his lower lip, and you soothed the bite with a gentle suck—both of you knowing it was more of a playful gesture than a true apology.

“You’re so good for me, Bi-Han. So powerful, so strong, and now you’re laying bare for me to care for you.”

Bi-Han tried to respond, his lips rolling in a restrained attempt, but you grounded him with your weight, pressing him firmly into the mattress. You shushed him gently when he growled in frustration. This was your moment of control, and you intended to make that clear. Normally, Bi-Han was the one in command, whether it was over the clan or in bed. He was accustomed to wielding control, having been born into it. But tonight, for a few hours, you wanted him to relinquish that control, allowing yourself to take charge. Your aim was to ease his stress and help him relax after days of mounting tension. It felt like taming a beast, one that responded only to you. Any hint of vulnerability shown to others would be met with a ferocious reaction, but with you, Bi-Han yielded, trusting you completely.

Bi-Han seemed to sense your unspoken words and complied silently. You gave his lower lip one last gentle suck before your mouth began a trail of kisses—starting at his chin, moving along his sharp jawline, and descending to his neck. There, you sucked lightly, leaving a mark that would be concealed by his collar when he wore it. Bi-Han groaned deeply, his voice a throaty rumble that vibrated through his chest as you continued to mark him. Your kisses traced the rigid lines of his abs, his skin smooth and unblemished like marble, sculpted to perfection and cooling to the touch. Though he was a cryomancer and his body temperature was normally colder than a human’s, as you worked over him, his temperature slightly warmed, becoming almost pleasantly cool.

You marveled at the sight before you, kissing down his well-defined muscles, your fingers tracing the veins beneath his skin with a curious, mischievous touch. Bi-Han shivered slightly at your exploration. You smiled at his reaction and began to unbutton the bottom of his garment as you slid down. As you worked, his clothes fell away, discarded at the edge of the bed.

His length was as beautiful as the rest of his body, standing hard and proud for your attention. The tip, flushed a deep pink, contrasted strikingly against his pale skin. The sight of him stirred a deep, primal urge within you, making your mouth water with the desire to taste him. Though his length was average in size, it was thick and impressive, a fact that promised both challenge and pleasure. You knew that taking him fully in your mouth would make your jaw ache and leave you walking with a delicious ache between your legs—a feeling you welcomed.

You began to kiss and nuzzle between his thighs, savoring the reactions you elicited from him. He always smelled clean, with a fresh scent reminiscent of falling snow, mingled with hints of mint and something earthy and rich. But here, in such close proximity, his scent was even more pronounced. Bi-Han exhaled a curse, his breath catching in surprise, likely expecting you to take him into your mouth or touch him, but not yet receiving that attention. Your smile widened at his reaction, noting the flush spreading across his pale skin. His neck, chest, and even part of his shoulders turned a lovely shade of pink as his arousal grew—a sight that was uniquely yours to witness, as you were his first.

Bi-Han was a strict man, deeply committed to his clan and himself, often neglecting personal pleasures in favor of perfecting his skills and fulfilling his duties. His self-denial initially surprised you, but it was understandable given his dedication. He had stripped away many of life’s pleasures to focus solely on his role as grandmaster. When you first met him years ago, he seemed more like a machine than a man. Despite his captivating presence, it took a long time for him to ease his rigid demeanor and open himself to the world. You believed that balance was crucial to life, a concept you hoped he would embrace before his self-discipline consumed him entirely. With your gentle demeanor, he began to respect and understand your perspective, a feat that was challenging to achieve with someone as resolute as him.

And now, here he was, completely at your mercy, savoring the attention you lavished upon him. The sight of him so utterly dependent on your touch warmed your heart as you finally took the tip of his length into your mouth, straining your jaw. Bi-Han groaned deeply at the contact, his head falling back against the pillow, the handcuffs clinking softly as he tried not to writhe beneath you. He was highly sensitive to touch, with even the smallest sensation making his breath hitch. Although he initially tried to mask his responses with a furrowed brow and an impassive expression, you coaxed him out of his shell, showing him it was okay to feel and express pleasure. Seeing him enjoy himself brought you immense satisfaction.

It took time to get him to open up to you, as with many other aspects of your relationship, but the reward was worth it. Even with the blindfold, you could see the pleasure coursing through him—his mouth slightly agape, a few drops of sweat rolling down his temples. Your hand wrapped around his length, while your other hand massaged his muscular thigh, feeling the powerful muscles twitch and spasm under your touch.

His taste made you moan softly as you guided him deeper, expertly bringing him pleasure. The sensation of having such power over his pleasure was intoxicating, mirroring how he had always known how to bring you pleasure. You wanted to savor this moment, drawing it out as you watched the tension gradually melt away from him. He appeared more relaxed, a prominent vein pulsing in his neck, and a sheen of sweat glistening on his body. His dark hair became increasingly tousled as he writhed and twitched beneath your touch.

The sight was arousing, your core aching and hot with desire. You wanted nothing more than to climb onto his lap and take him deep, rubbing your throbbing ache against him to satisfy yourself. You could almost feel him inside you as you continued to suck and lick him, careful not to graze him with your teeth. Tonight was all about his pleasure, so you tried to focus solely on him, though you could feel your own arousal intensifying. Even without touching yourself, you knew you were wet.

You licked slowly from the base to the tip, knowing that the sensitive head would drive him wild. His length was a throbbing, heated presence on your tongue, heavy and slightly salty, filling your senses and making your head spin with desire. You traced a thick vein with your tongue, then moved to kiss and suck on one of his jewels, eliciting a string of curses from Bi-Han. His chest heaving as he clenched his fists.

‘’Fuck, you’re driving me insane,” he said sharply.

You shivered with pleasure at his response, savoring the taste of his precum on your tongue as he cursed again. His muscles rippled, his back arching slightly to get deeper into your mouth. You moaned around him, the taste of his precum only intensifying your own desire. Unable to resist, you slipped your hand down to your aching core, seeking relief from the mounting tension. The sight of him, so vulnerable and responsive, heightened your arousal. When your fingers brushed against your lips, you whimpered around his length, your fingers becoming soaked within seconds. The sound of your voice drove Bi-Han wild, his growls growing more intense and feral.

“Are you touching yourself?” Bi-Han’s voice was a ragged whisper, barely coherent.

“Yes,” you moaned, your voice shaky as you responded. Two of your fingers slipped inside you easily as you continued to bob your head, soft moans escaping with each movement. Your other hand wrapped around his length, your motions in sync with the rhythm of your mouth. Bi-Han’s hips bucked, and he pressed his heels into the mattress, trying to resist the urge to thrust into your mouth, still respecting your wish with what little resolve he had left.

“Fuck, I don’t want to come without being inside you,” Bi-Han growled, his words coming out in sharp, desperate bursts. “I want you up here.” His voice was raw and primal, tinged with snarls and growls you hadn’t heard before. “I need—had to be inside you.” When he whispered your name at the end of his sentence, the way he uttered it made your resolve crumble. The intensity in his voice drove you to act.

You discarded your soaked underwear hurriedly, your hands slightly trembling with anticipation as a thin strand of saliva connected with his length. Positioning yourself over him, you guided his length to your entrance and, with one swift motion, took him into your warmth. A blissful sigh escaped your lips, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you savored the sensation. His thickness stretched you fully, and you took a few seconds to adjust to the fullness, relishing how completely he filled you. It was a beautiful sensation to be this full, chasing away the emptiness and connecting with him like this—body and soul.

‘’By the elder gods, you’re so wet,” Bi-Han bit out the words, his voice strained as you began to move slowly, your hips tracing lazy circles to adjust to him. Each motion pressed his balls tight against your pelvis, filling you completely. You braced yourself with both hands on his chest, lifting yourself up and down. Bi-Han was a groaning mess beneath you, cursing and hissing throatily as his hips bucked to meet your movements. You took him deep, your clit rubbing against him as you ground yourself on him, then lifted slightly before sinking back down.

“You make me feel so good,” you whispered, lying against him, your teeth grazing his pulse before catching his earlobe. “Do you feel good too?”

‘’Heavenly.’’ Bi-Han groaned. As you found your rhythm, you picked up speed, the pleasure intensifying with every stroke. Even without much movement, his length pressed all the right spots inside you, making you mewl and whimper. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure, savoring the fullness and the way every inch of him stimulated your sensitive spots.

Suddenly, Bi-Han’s muscles tensed. With a controlled snap, he froze and shattered the handcuffs. He tore off the blindfold with a growl, his gaze now fierce and predatory. His eyes were dark, almost black with desire, intense and focused on you with raw hunger, making your heart flutter. His hands grasped your bottom, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he pulled you onto his lap. He began to thrust into you, his jaw clenched and a vein pulsing in his temple as he took in every moan and whimper from you. You clutched onto him, your nails raking down his back as he drove deeper into you, your breath coming in ragged gasps as sparks danced behind your eyes.

“You broke your promise,” you managed to say between moans, struggling to catch your breath. Bi-Han bit down on your neck, leaving a clear mark that anyone could see. It was a possessive gesture, and despite the pain, it only fueled the heat pooling in your belly. He licked the mark before responding, his breath chilly against your skin.

“I tried to hold back as long as I could,” Bi-Han snarled, his voice a harsh whisper against your ear. He lowered you slowly, deepening his thrusts as he positioned your legs on his shoulders, almost bending you in half. The sensation made you arch your back, a loud moan escaping your lips as he drove even deeper, your legs trembling with pleasure. “But it’s you we’re talking about. I can’t resist myself with you. You’re a sight to behold.” He pressed a tender kiss to the shell of your ear before his mouth sought out your neck again. “And mine.” His teeth grazed your skin, marking his claim on you once more.

The heat coiling in your belly spread through your entire body, making your head spin with pleasure. Bi-Han’s weight pressed you down, pinning you firmly as he kissed you deeply, moaning when he tasted himself on your tongue. His movements matched the fervor of his thrusts. You held onto him, doing your best to meet his thrusts with your own. His breath fanned over your neck and jaw as he pressed kisses, occasionally grazing his teeth slightly.

Bi-Han growled, his grip growing fiercer as his thrusts became more erratic and bruising, the sound of slapping skin echoing in the room. You were also reaching your peak, pleasure raging in your veins and with one, two and the third thrust you came, white hot pleasure make you almost blind and you clutched to Bi-Han hard, your nails digging into his skin as you afraid of being fly away as how much orgasm shooked you. Bi-Han followed you almost immediately, spilling inside you with a hot, molten rush that filled you completely. He stayed deeply embedded, his breath a cold contrast to the warmth of the moment, as he bit down on your shoulder, grounding himself as he came down from the height of his pleasure.

You both remained intertwined for a while, taking slow, deep breaths as you came down from the peak. You caressed Bi-Han’s hair, which felt as soft as silk against your fingertips. His dark locks were tousled, and his eyes, now softened, held a depth of emotion that spoke more than words ever could. The contrast between his cool, pale skin and the warm, golden light of the candles highlighted the beauty of his form, the sharp angles of his face now relaxed and content. You basked in the afterglow as he lavished you with tender kisses, dotting your skin with affectionate touches.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, your voice slightly husky and your palate dry from all the moaning.

‘‘Better,’’ Bi-Han replied honestly, lifting his head to press a kiss to your forehead. His eyes met yours, revealing a love so profound and fierce that it seemed to unfold before you like an open book. “I love you,’’ he whispered, his gaze steady and sincere.

‘‘I love you too, husband,’’ you responded, adding a playful lilt to the last word, which elicited a gentle smile from him.

“Wife,” he murmured in return, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “We’re going to do this again. This time, you’ll lie down while I take care of you.”

[frommybedroom]

inspired by this post

Even after he turns in his essay, he can’t stop. It’s not like he’s never written anything before, but those were the silly daydreams of a little boy with his head in the clouds, who dreamed of movie stars and damsels in distress. What he’s doing now is important. What he’s doing now is necessary.

On the third day in a row that he’s late to dinner—so late that Soda has to reheat his plate—Darry says, “What you been writing about, Pony?”

“Yeah,” Soda says, bringing the plate over and setting it down. “You’re always still up when I try to go to bed. I’ve had to replace the batteries in your flashlight twice now. Are you writing another story?”

Pony shrugs. Suddenly, all the words that pour out of him so easily onto the page get lodged in the back of his throat.

How to describe it to them? The urge—to not forget, to hold onto what was. To wring out the words and distill them into a watered-down version of his friends. Those measly words the only things left of Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston.

“Hey, Ponyboy, what’s wrong?”

Pony blinks, and Soda’s blurry face peers at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Darry scoot his chair closer to the both of them. Both wear matching expressions of concern.

“I just—” He swallows past the lump in his throat. “I just want to remember them.”

His brothers don’t say anything. So he keeps going.

“I—I can’t let them just disappear. They were here. They were real. And now they’re not. And I can’t let what their tombstones say be the only thing people remember about them. They were more than just a date.”

Soda leans over and ruffles his hair. It’s starting to grow out again finally, the natural dark roots beginning to peek through. “Don’t worry about that, Pony. You’ll never forget them. None of us will.”

“Yeah,” Darry agrees. “Dallas and Johnny were family, and family don’t—”

“I can’t remember what Mom’s perfume smelled like,” Pony bursts out. “I don’t remember what her high heels sounded like on the floor or the slight burning smell when she would curl her hair. And I try real hard to remember what it was like waking up and hearing Dad make coffee, but it’s gone. They’re fading. Like they were never actually here at all.” He clenches his fists, and there’s still a faint ache in his wrist. “I’m not gonna let that happen to them.”

He doesn’t tell them that sometimes at night, after Soda’s fully asleep and snoring like some dang bear, he sneaks out of bed and into the closet where they’ve kept Johnny’s clothes folded in a neat pile. Sometimes he holds them, brushing his fingers over the ripped jeans; sometimes he can’t bear to sully them. Which doesn’t even make sense because the shirt’s still got some of Johnny’s blood on it so it’s plenty dirty already, but he still feels like he’ll ruin it if he touches them too much or for too long.

He’s broken out of his thoughts by arms wrapping around him. A moment later, another pair of arms joins the first. And then he’s clutching onto Soda’s elbow and Darry’s forearm, and once again they’re all holding each other.

He wonders what this scene would look like to an observer: three boys in a rundown kitchen with grime caked under their fingernails and wearing clothes that don’t fit quite right. Unwanted tears escaping from tightly squeezed eyelids. A forgotten plate of food sitting on the table. No parents or friends anywhere to be seen.

He thinks they would see grief. And heartache and loneliness and pain. But maybe also hope. Maybe also love.

[quinncadens]

I'd love some input from anyone reading this!!

You're in the middle of playing a game, watching a show, reading something, or maybe just finishing it up. You're hit by the realization that you're currently in the middle of something special. Something that ticks all of the boxes for top-tier content that you have. Something that makes you think. Something that makes you feel. Something that you won't ever be able to experience for the first time again. Something that will become a standard you hold everything else to. Something you won't ever forget.

What is that something for you? What do you call that feeling? Gush about it! Give me that wordsalad. Go feral homie, I wanna know!

[theartistaslisalee]

Reading some Subsmoke smut on AO3 has really rotted my brain, I can’t get enough of them as disturbing as it sounds! 😂😂😂. But it does keep me grounded in these uncertain times. Recently read one by @evilconcubinemk and I believe you can tell by this pic what the story is about. 😜😜😜

[its-cosmerely-an-obsesh-wound]

The Stormlight sweatshirts are done! 🙌

[civetfish]

Nerd-to-nerd communication

Something super pointless and self-indulgent I've had on the backburner for a while. I love trying to make the pieces they gave us fit together!

Al-AN and Robin would absolutely bond over learning about each other's biology. I could talk about this forever but I'll get into all of the headcanons I have for these two in another post eventually

Below the cut is another version with some extra bits and pieces and the transcription

Transcript :

Architect Anatomy A. Architect "Brain" - Doesn't "store" information so much as allow for easy communication with the network B. Brainstem - connects the information received to the central nervous/circulatory system C. "Heart" - Circulatory system pumps the bioluminescent fluid to other organ systems and surface veins. Each node connects to a vast vasculature network D. "Kidneys" - Organs that filter the bioluminescent "blood" and other bodily fluids, absorbing and distributing collected material E. Nerve Center - Receives raw sensory data and filters it. Filtering can be unconscious or intentional

F. "Respiratory" Tract - Intakes gases or liquids and filters out material for use. Disposes of waste on exhale. Provides cooling to internal systems

The respiratory tract functions less like a set of lungs and more akin to a computer's cooling system, with the ability to absorb material from the environment to use in other parts of the body. It also would likely help the architect's body analyze the environment it is currently exposed to on a molecular level. It is also truly unidirectional, with the intake vents near the "collarbone" and the exhaust vents on both sides of the abdomen

The architect organ cache in-game felt like it was definitely not a complete model of the internal organs, so I wanted to come up with something to fill some more space. I also just really liked the idea of Al-An being capable of something similar to breathing, without having a respiratory system in the traditional sense. Feel free to use any of this in your own headcanons if you would like :)

BONUS - a gif of all the layers!

[bluehairedspidey]

[ao3-anonymous]

Fastest Growing Fandoms on AO3 This Week (12/24/2024)

Every week I pull data on how many fics are in each fandom and compare to the previous week, then calculate the percentage increase to determine fastest growing fandoms.  Since this naturally skews towards smaller fandoms, I have included the same data filtered to Over 1k, 5k, & 10k fics.

Overall:

Over 1,000 Fics:

Over 5,000 Fics:

Over 10,000 Fics:

Source: AO3 Fandom Dashboard

[clegfly]

Hi. Throws small self indulgent “mari actually IS something and after the true ending is able to get with hero via cleg logic I can’t be bothered to explain in a short funny description and oh god this is too long” au at you and runs into the woods

[thusspoketrish]

FIC CLAIM — HD MUGGLE FAN FAIR 2024!

Netflix and Chills

Rated E - 20K

Halloween might be over, but the tricks, treats, and heat between the sheets are just beginning for our favorite dynamic duo. As always, thank you to the @hd-fan-fair mods for a fantastic fest and my dear friend and beta @youknowyoudid for whipping this fic into shape.

Tags: Post-Second Wizarding War. EWE. Drarry in the Muggle World. Established Relationship. Snarky Draco Malfoy. Muggle Technology. Slice of Life. Humor. Romance. Domestic Fluff. Pop Culture References. Shenanigans. Halloween Night. Netflix and Chill. Banter. Mystery. Idiots in Love. Light Dom/Sub Elements. Dirty Talk. Blue Ball Hell.

Summary: When Draco innocently asks what "Netflix and Chill" means, Harry simply can't pass up the opportunity to impart some knowledge while demonstrating a masterclass in the art of seduction. Now, if only those plans weren't constantly interrupted by trick-or-treaters—some of them far more trick than treat.

READ ON AO3!

[smogfromkortalmombat1]

Lin Kuei trio (Childhood fanfic drabble)

Kuai Liang and Bi-Han attempt to build a birdhouse (because why not), Tomas is there too just being himself. The three having a little bonding session, basically.

Mostly just straight up humour/brotherly bonding. Might end up as something more (aka in my AO3 childhood Lin Kuei series), might not- enjoy regardless! Tons of fun to write.

//

“You’re doing that wrong.”

Bi-Han huffed, rolling his eyes. “Shut up.”

“I’m just saying,” Kuai Liang shrugged, the instructions held close to his face as he squinted at the fine print. His finger dragged dramatically along each word, “You skipped step six.” He tapped the paper for exaggeration, “Very important step, you know.”

“I don’t care,”

Kuai scoffed. “Rude.”

Wispy, grey curls appeared in Bi-Han’s peripheral vision, a small, pale face peering around his shoulder, curiously gauging the mess around him. “What doing?”

“Hey Tomas. We’re making a birdhouse,” Kuai Liang chuckled, glancing up from the paper, “Or at least, we’re trying to.”

“I’m trying to.” Bi-Han corrected, “You’re just holding the instructions.”

“That’s a form of helping, if you weren’t aware.”

Tomas tilted his head, listening to his brothers bicker intently. He was still getting used to Chinese, and every word seemed to take extra effort as his little mind worked to translate them to and from Czech, his native tongue. “Can I… uhm…” His brows knitted in concentration, his little face scrunching up as he searched for the right words. “Can I watch?”

Kuai Liang’s face softened with a warm smile, and he patted the spot next to him on the floor. “Very good, Tomas.” He encouraged, “Yes, you can watch.”

Tomas beamed at the praise, his small chest puffing up with obvious pride. His socked feet shuffled quickly over as he plopped down next to Kuai, his big eyes fixed on the project. The birdhouse pieces were scattered across the floor in various stages of assembly- some nailed together, while others still lay semi assembled or straight up abandoned, still waiting for their turn to even be looked at. It was utter chaos.

“Hand me the hammer, someone,” Bi-Han said, his gaze entirely focused on choosing the right nail from a small box resting on his thigh. His free hand reached out blindly, waiting. “Please.”

“Ham-mer,” Tomas repeated, testing the new word on his tongue. “Hammer. What hammer?”

Kuai Liang nudged him gently with his elbow, nodding toward the tool resting near Tomas’ side. “That’s a hammer.”

“Oh.” Tomas reached for the tool, the hammer looking comically oversized in his small hands as he heaved it up by the handle. “Kladivo,” he said, handing it over to Bi-Han with both hands. “Here you go,” he added, each word carefully pronounced.

“Kleu-deevo.” Kuai Liang repeated, furrowing his brow in concentration as he tried to mimic the word. “Kle-Kleu.. Kla…? Devo. Divou?”

“Thank you, Tomas,” Bi-Han said, taking the hammer from the boy with ease. A faint, rare smile tugged at his lips. “Your Chinese is coming along very well,” he added, curling an amused brow at Kuai Liang, who was still struggling with the pronunciation of the fairly simple (in his mind, at least) Czech word. “Unlike Kuai Liang’s Czech, apparently.”

Tomas giggled at the comment, patting Kuai Liang’s knee in sympathy, offering an encouraging smile up at his big brother. “Really close! You can do it!”

Bi-Han snorted, amused by the scene, which only made Kuai shoot him a glare that, if it could, would definitely burn holes right through him. His brother’s chocolate-brown eyes narrowed, then suddenly dropped to Bi-Han’s lap, attention back to the birdhouse in progress. Then, a slow, smug grin spread across his face as he noticed something. 

“You put that piece upside-down,” Kuai pointed out with a triumphant grin, turning the instructions around so Bi-Han could clearly see how the pieces were supposed to fit together, the little images massive and painfully obvious. “It’s supposed to be the other way around. See?”

“Dammit-” Bi-Han muttered under his breath, reaching for the hammer once more- this time, the clawed side. He’d already nailed the damn pieces together- Kuai just had to wait until the end to tell him, didn’t he? Sly bastard.

Tomas, still watching the whole exchange, broke into another fit of high-pitched giggles. “Hloupý Bi.” He drummed his fingers on his leg in quick thought, “Silly.” He translated for them, “Silly Bi.”

Kuai chuckled, ruffling Tomas’ hair, “Ha-loopy indeed.”

Bi-Han just found himself rolling his eyes yet again.