#wip: draft stud

[suzukiblu]

Mystery slot please!

“Fuckin’ hell,” Jason mutters under his breath. “What the hell, kid, why are you even trying to have a kid right now, you’re goddamn infants yourselves. Also, since when the fuck are you even together?” 

“Since Kon asked me for a pup,” Tim replies with a very slight shrug, which isn’t a particularly precise answer, and is also a very not normal answer, Jason can’t help feeling. “Also, again: I’m twenty-two, Hood.” 

“Yeah, a goddamn infant,” Jason says in exasperation, raking a hand back through his hair. If Tim Drake were not a high school dropout, he’d be about five damn minutes out of college. The kid can’t even legally rent a car yet. 

Neither can Jason, admittedly, but Jason also doesn’t have a legal identity so that’s not actually relevant to this conversation. 

“My career is established, my job is stable, and my income can support a mate and pup without undue stress,” Tim says. “Or my trust fund can, in case of emergency.” 

“You are an actual baby,” Jason says, vengefully biting another hush puppy in half. “You are both actual babies, fuck’s sake.” 

“Both of your SMPD1 alleles are perfect, if you didn’t know,” Tim mentions.

“Jesus Christ,” Jason groans, burying his face in one hand.

[benjineedssleep]

(fanfic) stardew valley character outfit descriptions <3

something i wish i saw more in fics and stuff are the finer details. like what characters are wearing. not all the time, and not always super detailed, but sometimes. which is why i'm doing it myself in my current wip :3

all screenies are spoiler free!!! (or too out of context to be spoilers.) i'll be posting the fic on ao3 once it's finished and edited. i'm currently 93.6k words in and still have 3 seasons left to write! so it won't be out for a while but if you wanna beta... get a sneak peak... i'm lookin' at you XD

ANYWAYS ONTO THE POINT OF THIS POSTTTTT

(alt text after "keeping reading"... also be easy on me this is a DRAFT)

none of this is chronological btw... don't come for me i was doing a word search so i didn't have to doom scroll for these scenes (the document is currently 168 pages long--)

ALT TEXT :3

please let me know if this is not an efficient way to do things btw, i'm new here!!!

Though Sam didn’t have an umbrella, his typical outfit changed a bit to accommodate the weather. The hems of his baggy jeans and fabric of his daily Converse were equally as wet, but his signature spiky hair was safely tucked into the hood of a primary color blocked hoodie. This would’ve been fine ten minutes ago, but now the rain began to pick up.

Most days Sebastian walked around in one of his many black hoodies or band tees, not bothering to accessorize. But the past couple of weeks he’d been trying a bit harder. Today he dressed up his skinny jeans with a pair of layered belts, one studded with stars and the other a solid white with a sparkly buckle. Up top he layered a number of necklaces, rubber wrist bands, and spiked bracelets. He even put the studs and rings back in the cartilage of his ears, having only tunnels in his stretched lobes for the longest time.

Evelyn sifted through a basket behind the door and pulled from it said mittens, sitting them in Sebastian’s hands. They were a solid black with a marbled button on top. “Thank you, wow.” He put them on, rotating his hands around. They fit perfectly. /// “Look.” She pulled back the mitten flap and secured it down with the button. “They’re regular gloves underneath so if you need the full extent of your hands, you don’t need to take them off. Usually they’re fingerless, but I wanted to make sure you were extra warm no matter what.”

Sebastian flattened the collar of his leather jacket, adjusting his tucked in black button down. For some reason, he felt the older woman would judge him if he wasn’t properly put together. “My mother would appreciate any gift from you, Evelyn. You know how much she loves you.”

At this point, Sebastian had a decent idea of what he wanted to wear. It was very typical for him, either a sweater or long sleeve shirt, his favorite pair of ripped jeans, and probably a heavier coat to compensate for all the holes in his pants. He was even considering wearing a hat, which he never did.

Sebastian bent over in the stool, tossing some of the discarded clothing to the side so he could get to the side of the room Sam was on. “I dunno.” He sifted through a mess of hats inside of an old bookshelf that he kept in the closet. From it he pulled a grey ushanka and a loose fitting tassel beanie. He had a few of those beanies, each a different character, but this one in particular was a skeleton cat. “Pick.” /// Sam tossed the hoodie over his shoulder, picking up the beanie. He stared at the front, turning it to the back and tugging at the ears a bit before speaking. “You own cutesy stuff?” /// “I own a lot of cutesy stuff actually.” Sebastian dug through the pile again pulling out a similar hat, just Hello Kitty this time. It had her distinct red bow and everything. “How about that?” He then pulled out a Gir one, shaking it in front of Sam’s face. “Mmm?”

Sebastian sat on the floor of his best friend’s bedroom, watching her through a mirror. She’d been at this hair thing for a while now, having trimmed it for him, but she now focused heavily on sectioning it off to be dyed. A number of colored claw clips were clamped to her pink Hello Kitty pajama pants. “You wanna talk about it?” She struggled out, comb between her teeth as she twisted a section of hair. /// “What’s there to talk about, Abby?” He knew but, as always, someone needed to pull those conversations out of him. /// Abigail pushed the comb into Sebastian’s thick hair, crossing her arms over her chest. Sebastian could see her shoulders square clearly in the spaghetti strap tank top she wore. He didn’t believe her when she’d said she was getting stronger the further down the mines she went, but there was no denying it now. “Why do you look like you’re gonna beat me up?”

Sam dried his hands off on his blue flannel pajama pants and fiddled with a leather hardshell case. From it he pulled out a glossy electric guitar. The color was almost identical to the dice Sam used when they played Solarian Chronicles together. It was several shades of red and orange, twisted together in a wispy under-blended fashion. A few spots were scuffed or chipped, stickers torn and fading, but all Sebastian saw was a well loved instrument.

Sam pushed his head back to look at Robin upside-down before rolling over. “I’m alright.” He fixed his cargo pants and loose t-shirt. “Just got too into it I guess.”

Abigail had apparently felt similarly about herself. She expressed obvious discontent with Sam’s lack of care as she braided the overgrown mop of his hair into two identical French braids earlier in the day. “I just don’t get you, dude. How can you just not care?” /// “I mean, I do.” He leaned forward slightly so Abigail could get the tension right. “I have a style and things I like but it’s very… what does my mom say? Formulaic? Y’know like, I have a real repeatable kinda style. Pick a pair of jeans, any shirt, match my shoes, which are almost all the same, just in different colors, and throw on a jacket or a hat or something. All the stuff goes with each other. Very few decisions.”

[amelias-calamity-quintet]

Word search 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.

Thank you for the tag, @drsteggy! Posting this on my LoZ alt for LoZ fics. My words are horse, sweet, and raucous.

I am tagging @karama9 @loz-untold-myths and @the--voided.

Your words are magic, mystery and murder (you can pick other words if those don’t suit you).

Pulling from Mark of a Hero for this one, all in book 1 so far, surprisingly. And all released chapters, what are the odds.

Horse

          The merchant clapped his hands together, sitting down on the driver’s bench. “You are my hero, Mr. Sayre. I will submit the paperwork just as soon as I can. I look forward to working with you again in the future.”           Saddiqah drew two fingers to her lips and whistled. As the sound echoed through the trees, she responded, “I believe you’re still working with us.”           The merchant chuckled as Link let out his own sharp whistle. From somewhere else on the orchard bound two horses; one a lean silver dream of a steed and one a chestnut draft. The silver stallion approached Saddiqah, a narrow hoof tearing the soil beneath him. He was larger than most desert horses, but Saddiqah was no small woman.           Link extended his hand for the draft, the reddish mare’s reins slipping down beneath her neck for Link to take. He took the bit of lead in his left hand and placed his right to the mare’s nose. The mare snorted into his palm a long, hot breath. She was tired of casual rides to and from Castle Town. Link couldn’t blame her. Escort missions weren’t terribly exciting as far as work went.

Sweet

          If something was wrong, the city didn’t show it. Among the platforms, Deku’s Shelf was alive and beautiful. Flowers hung from railings like weeds, leaving the streets scattered in petals and the air sweet with pollen. A gentle breeze ran through, spinning pinwheels stuck out among the flowers.           What was stranger for Link to believe though was the number of Koroks in the city. He had only ever seen a handful in his life, though none of them had ever seemed fond of Castle Town. Though the further they got into the city, the more abnormally tall Link started to feel. Besides the pint sized Korok, the other prominent race in town was also petite. The twin tailed fox-faced Keaton padded along on their back-legs, some dressed, some not, with big, bushy fox tails.

Raucous (Could not find, subbing for Wild)

          On the morning of the third day, as they were beginning to turn south east again along the road around the bend of Lake Hylia, they came across a cart overturned on the road. Distantly, Link could hear shouting from inside the covered wagon, the pack animals that had once been pulling it nowhere in sight.           Not without good reason though. Surrounding the wagon was a band of bokoblins, number difficult to count as they bounced around the wagon trying to find a way in. The blue gray pig faced monsters were chattering wildly between each other, each armed with a heavy wooden club. A few of the weapons were studded with sharpened rocks.           There wasn’t a plan needed. The three broke into action on instinct without need to coordinate. Ambrose, with his heavy twohanded greatsword, charged straight ahead and leapt from Noble’s back into the fight. Saddiqah, one of her scimitars drawn, skirted around the edge of the fight to crowd the monsters together to make them a smaller target.

Thank ya again for the tag, this was a lot of fun.

[raccoonfallsharder]

cicatrix .⋆☁︎:･꧂

chapter seventeen. keyframe. [new 7/26] ✩

18+ only | rocket x f!oc | 17/30+ | wip | word count: pending. masterlist, notes, & moodboard | chapter seventeen. keyframe. ART: portrait of pearl | pearl & rocket's bunk chapter one. nemotia. art by @/frostedwitch

a raccoon, a girl, and a kylosian walk into a throneroom. see below for warnings & notes.

“I don’t want to adopt an abilisk,” she reasons quietly. “I just don’t want them to die out.” She chews her lip and eyes the Kylosian nervously. She’s not sure how much he’s inferring from any of these conversations, or how careful she needs to be — but then, she’s always tried so hard not to underestimate people the way the High Evolutionary does. So instead, she just offers Rocket a pleading little half-shrug, and she looks out at the stars, wondering how far the herd still is. The distant celestial bodies glow and shimmer, studding the expanse of space with patterns that are simultaneously familiar and new. Eucleia. Penthus. Elpis.  Adrestia. Dice. The words unfurl on her tongue like a blossom, petal-sweet, before she’d even known they were growing there. “I hate to think of us all here, just playing out the roles we were assigned.” She slants her eyes downward to her beloved survivor. “Don’t you?” His eyes widen, molten sunsets and bonfires. She sees his chest hitch on an uncertain, startled breath — and then those same eyes narrow.  “You’re the second-worst frickin’ thing that’s ever happened to me.” She feels her smile wobble. “I know.” “Who assigns these roles?” Drax asks.  “The first-worst that’s ever happened to me,” Rocket answers dryly. He rolls his eyes and leans on the cascabel. “Okay, kitten. I hope this idea of yours is a frickin’ good one.”

read more on ao3 | masterlist, notes, & moodboard

holy shit i wrote plot!!! but it seemed way better when i drafted it and revised it 27 times than when i just edited/posted it so uhmmmm thanks for bearing with me.

a story about scars. two survivors learn about themselves, each other, hope, and the universe.a freakish little monster visits the high evolutionary’s bride on her wedding night. an adventure of intergalactic proportions ensues. aka raccoons make plans; the universe laughs.

WARNINGS for this chapter: brief glimpses into rocket’s typically-filthy thoughts, pearl’s anxiety, and wyndham’s dickishness.

fluff ✮ | spice ✩ | some smut ❤︎‬ | much smut ❤︎‬❤︎‬

banners & rose dividers by @/saradika-graphics pearl dividers by @/thecutestgrotto taglist ♡ @evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @glow-autumz ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @suicidalshitstick ♡ @pretty-chips

[lavender-tea-fling]

I'm incredibly curious about this Last Will and Testament wip? 👀

Last Will and Testament is another contest poem! I got signed on a bit of a risky job. As a somewhat responsible adult, I’ve been thinking about maybe drafting a will, and what the variety of things I’m leaving to certain folks, like my parents.

I haven’t decided how many stanzas it will have, but here’s the first two.

To my mother I return

My diamond studded shame

And its shining hues

Of

“I am not the daughter you wanted.”

“I will never live up to your past.”

“Do you believe in my future?”

The original safeguards lost

And replaced with closures

That will never truly fit.

I assure you I bore them

With enduring grace.

I trust you will care for them

If I am gone.

To my father I leave

My blade-sharp rage

And its barbed edges

Of

“Believe it or not, I’m doing my best!”

“I do not deserve this!”

“You don’t need to shout!”

Its sheathe is dusty

And stiffened with time

Untouched since I was sixteen.

I assure you it was always

Wielded with righteous justice.

I trust you will do the same

If I am gone.

It formatted a bit weird bc I’m on mobile rn, but it’ll go something like that.

💚

[squarebracket-trickster]

Characters Out of Context Tag

Another tag game I've been sitting on since August??? Thank you @serenanymph and SORRY!!!

Rules: Include one character quote of your choosing ⁠from each chapter of your WIP (or as many chapters as you'd like). Give absolutely no context, save for what's between two parts of an interrupted sentence, should that occur. You may mention who said it.

No pressure tagging as many people as I have chapters: @sunset-a-story, @touloserlautrec, @mjparkerwriting, @captain-kraken, @authoraemoseley, @star-studded-whales, @ryns-ramblings, @athenswrites, @moonandris, @breath-of-eternity, @tabswrites, @dontjudgemeimawriter, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @kjscottwrites, @words-after-midnight, @sarandipitywrites

Quotes below cut. I am only doing them for draft 3, and the chapter of draft 2 I am currently editing into draft 3. Because I am not skimming 77 000 words for this.

Chapter 1 (draft III) - Isolde

"I wonder how long a person could live without skin? I heard that the eyes of severed heads sometimes follow the executioner as he walks off the gallows. Do you think that means they are still alive? Do severed heads feel their body still attached like a phantom limb? Perhaps someone should invent a language entirely in blinks. Then, when you are all beheaded you can tell me."

Chapter 2 (draft III) - there is no dialogue in this chapter and the internal monologue was very straightforward.

Chapter 3 (draft III) - Isolde

He might as well have called me Aldus of Pussy.

Chapter 4 (draft III) - Henry

"Assuming she did not drown or get swallowed whole by a shark..."

Chapter 5 (draft III) - Alan

"Welp, there goes peace in the region…”

Chapter 6 (draft III) - Isolde

This will only stop when Henry has me pinned - oh no. I can’t keep the grin from my face...

Chapter 6... this was a long chapter so it gets two (draft III) - Uthman

“It’s amazing, truly, how agreeable a person becomes when faced with a knife to the throat.”

Chapter 7 (draft III) - Alan

“Good fellow, find a pond and look at yourself. If you wished to bed a princess all you’d have to do is ask.”

Chapter 7... another long chapter, gets two (draft III) - Isolde

“There go your glorious plans to duel every man in the camp.”

Chapter 8 (draft III) - Isolde

“So that’s why you can’t breathe without flirting.”

Chapter 9 (draft III) - Wulfrith

“Find yourself a rich man then, best if he’s old or sickly. Have his son, do away with him while the boy’s still young and needs his mother to manage his inheritance, and… don’t get caught.”

Chapter 10 (draft III) - Isolde

Stop thinking about food, Isolde. You don’t want to know what was in that soup.

Chapter 9 (draft II) ... will be chapter 11 in draft III - Henry (Sorin)

"Up to you what sex you want to be here. But either way, you have to wash your face.”

There were too many good ones in this chapter. Here's a few more. - Isolde (Isadred, in disguise as Adris)

“No, actually, I’m not Adris... you’ve been captured by witches and I’m here to steal your voice and sew your mouth shut.”

- Isolde (Isadred)

“Sewing by the fireplace is a slippery slope. Next thing we know we’ll be dozing off together in these chairs!”

- Henry (Sorin)

"Option two: kill us. Pros: we’re dead. Cons?”

- Also Henry (Sorin)

“You mean, let’s assume they know that we know that they know why we are here.”

[darlingpoppet]

WIP WHURSDAY

Temporarily surfacing from my writing marathon to complete a draft for the pza dreamers au this month (which is going very well so far!) to offer an excerpt. The draft is currently 32k words and even then I wasn’t really sure which bit would be good to share—whether to try to give some idea of the plot/vibes or just dive into something horny LOL. I opted for the former this time, maybe I can do the latter for next time ;3c

He awakens around eight, to the soft, low, indistinct muffle of their voices traveling through the wall of the room next door. He takes another drink from his water glass and closes his eyes again to snooze, the voices floating on the outer edges of his consciousness, weaving images of idyll in hazy, sun-bleached colors. It’s not until around ten o’clock however that he awakens once more to the sound of a door from the hall, then footsteps, then sounds of activity from the kitchen.

Deciding that this is his cue, Zagreus rises as well, slipping on his jeans and t-shirt. He stops at the bathroom to use the toilet again, and takes a look at himself in the mirror while he washes his hands. His hair is in a state—he combs his wet fingers through it a few times, deciding there isn’t much that can be done for it if he doesn’t want to be late for breakfast.

When Zagreus enters the kitchen, he sees Achilles—shirtless, stirring a pot on the stove. Patroclus, also shirtless, maneuvers around him, opening and closing cabinets and drawers, gathering components for a bowl of cereal. They both turn at the movement of the door swinging open. They look pleased to see him… or perhaps they are just relieved to see that he didn’t die of alcohol poisoning, or drown in a pool of his own vomit overnight.

“Morning,” Zagreus says.

“Good morning, Zagreus, you look well,” Achilles says. “Do you prefer your cereal hot or cold?”

“Oh, er… I do like hot cereal, but I suppose either is okay.”

Achilles shuts off the stove burner before giving his pot another stir. “You can share some of this oatmeal with me, then. I only know how to make portions for two, but it can be a bit much when I’m the only one eating it.”

“Sure.” Zagreus sits at the table, helping himself to the same dining chair he was given last night. After a few minutes, Achilles comes over and sets down a bowl in front of him. It looks positively soul-warming; the oatmeal is topped with raisins, pecans, and diced apples, and embellished with a pretty swirl of honey on top. He also brings Zagreus a sugar bowl and a creamer full of milk, which for whatever reason strikes Zagreus as particularly thoughtful.

Achilles takes the long way back, circling around the table from behind Zagreus. He leans in slightly as he passes by. “I didn’t mention this to you specifically until now, but I’ve been admiring your earrings,” he says. “They go with everything else about you.”

Zagreus’ hands lift reflexively to his ears, which he assumes must be burning pink as he feels them turn warm. He rolls the studs between his fingers—there are three on each side, square-cut gems in yellow, orange, and red, creating a gradient of color from lobe to helix.

“Thanks,” he says, hoping that his flush of pleasure at the compliment isn’t too noticeable. He busies himself with his breakfast, pouring some milk into his bowl and then concentrates very hard at mixing it all together, mostly so that he won’t be tempted to stare at the lush coils of gold cascading down Achilles’ olive back as he returns to the kitchen.

Behind the counter, Patroclus paces around the space as he eats, a bowl and spoon in hand. Achilles, rather than prepare his own food, instead snakes his arms around Patroclus’ waist from behind—gently, so as not to jostle him—and pulls him into an intimate embrace, nosing past his mussed hair and murmuring something unintelligible into his ear.

Zagreus goes very still as this happens, his spoon suspended in his mouth, though it does not surprise him as much as it might have if he hadn’t already accidentally seen the two of them in bed together during the night. Had they been this physically affectionate with one another all this time? Perhaps Zagreus didn’t comprehend it, or even really notice, simply because his idea of the nature of their relationship was incongruous with all evidence to the contrary. Slowly and distractedly, he pulls the spoon clean from between his lips while he watches them.

Achilles senses Zagreus’ curious eyes on them, surfacing from where his nose is buried in Patroclus’ nape to look back at him. He smiles; there is not a single hint of shyness or embarrassment in his expression.

“What?” he asks.

Zagreus realizes too late that his staring could come across as leering. He feels an uncomfortable warmth creeping up his neck and face, and he casts his eyes down, offering a small, sheepish smile in return.

“Nothing, sorry. It’s just, I must be the most gullible person ever.”

Patroclus is looking at him too, now. “Why do you say that?”

“You—Achilles. When we first met, you told me that you and Patroclus were brothers… twin brothers. And I just completely assumed that was true, even though it’s obvious to me now that you were just kidding around.” Zagreus expects Achilles to enjoy a good laugh at his expense, and Zagreus wouldn’t blame him if he did. Even he can see the humor in his own foolishness.

Unexpectedly however, Achilles’ expression grows serious. He clings to Patroclus tighter still, and Zagreus continues to look away, discomfited by the sudden intensity of his gaze.

“Zagreus.” Achilles says his name firmly, in a way that is almost paternal. Zagreus cannot help but look to him at that. “You are not gullible. You are trusting. And there’s no reason to ever be ashamed of that. Why shouldn’t you always believe what someone tells you is the truth?”

Because people are assholes? This feels like a trick, like part of the joke: that Achilles can convince him to immediately fall for it again just as Zagreus has come to his senses. Even his own mind is telling him You’re an idiot! when he takes the bait anyway.

“Wait… so you two are really—”

“Perhaps Achilles would not consider it a lie, himself,” Patroclus interjects. “But it is admittedly a half-truth, at best. We are foster brothers, rather than biological ones.”

“Oh, I see. Twins, though?”

“Even if we didn’t share the same womb, I truly believe that we were both created from the same soul,” Achilles insists. “We are conjoined twins… connected, right here—” Achilles balls his hand into a fist, pounding it lightly against Patroclus’ chest, over his heart.

The way they are equal in height, slotted together, chest to back—against all logic, somehow, Zagreus thinks he understands. If someone were to aim a gun at the two of them right at this moment, the bullet would rip through both of their hearts—perfectly aligned—killing them at the same time.

[sagemonsters]

Heyo! It’s been a hot second since I’ve posted about any writing activity in my life—the end of my university semester + some familial troubles has really kept me away from my drafts—BUT I’m getting back into the swing of things! I have a new WIP that I’m hoping to finish the second draft of before my autumn semester starts on August 22nd.

The WIP doesn’t have a title for now, but is best described as “Dungeons & Dragons meets Indiana Jones meets monster romance” and is a cis male centaur x AMAB nonbinary human/elf hybrid romance novella. I’m hoping to publish it on Kindle and/or Smashwords once I’ve finished the draft and made all necessary edits.

The story takes place in a high fantasy setting inspired by the pre-Islamic Middle East and northern Africa. If I may gush… the setting itself is what made me fall in love with the story. I’ve been listening to the Fall of Civilizations YouTube channel and really vibing with the episode about the Nabatean civilization + looking at some stunning photography of the real-world Namib Desert along the west coast of southern Africa.

The first draft of this nameless WIP was set in a generic kitchen sink fantasy universe in the standard western European flavor, and I really didn’t click with it; even adding my favorite biome (temperate rainforest) as the backdrop for an important location didn’t make me have fun with what I was writing. However, once I changed the setting to something more geographically & culturally distinct, I started to enjoy it a lot more.

But characters are important too!

Taji Seventhborn is a linquist-mage who specializes in translating a variety of ancient languages into a variety of contemporary ones. They’re newly graduated from a thaumaturgic university in the (ofc fictional) city of Al-Darabous, and struggle with a mild anxiety disorder. Taji is the POV character for the entire novella.

I used the Baydews 2.0 picrew to make a portrait of them, which I’m not 100% happy with because it makes Taji look 14 rather than their actual age of 24. However, it’s still nice to have a visual representation of the character.

Cimitrius Firefoot is the centaur character and love interest. He’s a little older than Taji at 27 and is a warrior rather than a mage. He leads a band of adventurers, and was contracted by Lord Sindiso (along with Taji; that's how they meet) to guard an expedition searching for an ancient temple somewhere among the ghost-wracked dunes of Tindaalo Desert.

Excerpt below the cut!

Taji took a deep breath and looked around the Square. Even though dawn had not yet broken, there were plenty of people about. Veiled women filled pitchers with water from the fountain, their bangles tinkling as they moved, and the first wagons were being admitted through the massive, studded ironwood doors of the Victory Gate on their way to the marketplace. Shutters were being opened in the windows of the tenement buildings that flanked the Square, and street vendors pulled their hand-carts into position in preparation for hawking food, drinks, trinkets, and everything else under the sun. Another busy day was getting ready to dawn in Al-Darabous, and—for the first time—Taji would be leaving it all behind.

Their nerves jangled like the delicate silver chains that the Emperor’s court dancers tied into their braids. They scanned the two major thoroughfares that fed into the Square over and over, shifting their weight from food to foot as time wore on. The gray dawnlight blushed into the full brilliance of morning, and a cacophony of bells tolled in the high white towers to mark the occasion. Taji pulled the papyrus letter out of their pocket and read the last lines for what might have been the thirtieth time:

Prepare and outfit yourself for a long journey through the desert, and meet us in the Square of the Leaping Gazelle before sunrise on the seventh day of Firefall.

[seiya-starsniper]

WIP Search Game

Tagged by @lenreli and @ginoeh! Love you both <3

My words are:

jewel, comfy, difficult, break, silver (from len) & shiver, dark, sleep, hot, red (from ginoeh)

Putting them under a cut since this is going to get a bit long, and probably nsfw!

Jewel - surprisingly, jewel is nowhere to be found in any of my WIPs! I may need to remedy that!

Comfy - It's not an exact match, but it's the closest I could find. This is from the next part to Break Me, Shake Me:

“Tell me what you need,” Hob says, rubbing comforting circles along Dream’s lower back. “I’ll get you whatever you want.”

Difficult - From the "Retired Dream is a Fuckboy" WIP: (first draft can be found here!)

“Hob,” Murphy interrupts his thoughts, drawing out the vowel in his name. There’s a bit of mischief in his expression, which both thrills and unnerves Hob. “While I may no longer be able to perceive your daydreams, it is not difficult to parse your thoughts.”

Break - From my "Dream thinks coffee is a courting gift" WIP

"Then you should not be offering it as an apology," Dream says, as if Hob were breaking some sort of social code. He probably does think Hob is breaking some sort of social code. For all the unlimited knowledge Dream seems to contain, he does have a hard time grasping some human intricacies from time to time.

Silver - From the "Retired Dream is a Fuckboy" WIP:

“You look at me the same way others have,” Murphy says, flicking his tongue out and swirling it around the glass. “The same as the man who gave me this,” he adds, sticking his tongue out and flaunting the silver stud for Hob to fully appreciate. “Right before I wrapped my lips around his -” “All right, that’s enough out of you,” Hob says.

Shiver - From the "Hobrintheus Tentacle Sex in the Dreaming" WIP (first draft can be found here!)

The possessive tone in which the Corinthian stakes his claim sends a shiver down Hob’s spine. Hob has always enjoyed how much the Corinthian covets him, loves it even more now that he inspires it in both the nightmare and his creator.

Dark - from Chapter 5 of Midnight Pleasures

Dream huffs. “Were it up to me,” he says, brushing a thumb against Hob’s lips, “I would lock you away for safekeeping. To keep you bound in blood to me by some task impossible to achieve.” Hob inhales sharply at the sudden possessive and dark tone. “You wouldn’t,” he answers immediately, but he is not as convinced as he wishes he were.

Sleep - from the Dragon AU

When he settles himself back into his human form, Dream retreats into his cave and settles down for sleep. He dreams of a simpler time, a time when he was not the last of his species, and when humans were not so odious to live amongst.

Hot - from my still untitled Spy AU

He imagines Dream, rumpled with sleeplessness, dressed in tacky pajamas, a cup of hot tea in his hand. Hob has never been privy to such an image, the Quartermaster of MI6 would never allow such a moment of vulnerability with any of his agents, least of all Hob.

Red - from my "Dream is fae instead of Endless" AU

When he catches the man in the woods, Hob immediately knows he’s won something more than just eternal life.  “Touch me,” the man says, eyes glowing an otherworldly red, “and eternity is yours.”

Tagging @tj-dragonblade, @honeyteacakes @silver-dream89 @27dragons @phinofthestorm

Your words are: sand, heat, blue, wine, run

[cleverhottubmiracle]

Images courtesy of the brands. Collage by Ashley Peña If gifting is an art, then picking out the perfect Father’s Day present is like painting Guernica. Dads will insist they need nothing, but you don’t want to show up to the festivities empty-handed for another year running. Besides, the father (or father figure) in your life deserves to be spoiled, to get the camera, cologne, or sweater they would never purchase for themselves.Now, you don’t have too long—Father’s Day is fast approaching, and the pressure is building to get something wrapped and ready before that brunch or golf outing comes along. Luckily, we’re here to make the process a little bit easier. So, whether your celebrant is a mountain-trekking outdoorsman, a briefcase-toting workaholic, or somewhere in between, we’ve got the perfect gift that will prove your true appreciation, and maybe even get ol’ Dad to crack a smile. The TrendsetterHe has been following the designer mix-ups of the last year like others follow the NFL draft. He doesn’t go anywhere without his Lemaire tote, and you have a slight suspicion that Timothée Chalamet might be copying his style. He’s a trendsetter, and you want to make sure your gift deserves a place in his already impressive wardrobe. Maison Margiela Sprinter SneakersFarfetch - Gallery Dept. Self Title T-ShirtMr. Porter - Alighieri 'The Star Gazer' RingSsense - Zankov Colorblock SweaterBergdorf Goodman - Rick Owens DRKSHDW Porterville Baseball CapSsense - The Row Vasko LoafersBergdorf Goodman - The One Who’s Always in a SuitHe has two phones, three laptops, and a weekly standing reservation at the Polo Bar. He’s not the most experimental with his style, but he loves a classic, quality item. He knows when he opens that Patek Philippe box, he isn’t the new owner of the gorgeous watch, he’s just protecting it for the next generation (you, of course). Sculpted Cable Cushion CufflinksDavid Yurman - H Tissage TieHermès - B Charm Tie BarBurberry - Patek Philippe Nautilus Torneau - Saint Laurent BriefcaseBergdorf Goodman - The Sports StarHis short game has seen some great improvement this past season. His favorite gym bag hardly ever gets a day off, and his post-workout sauna session is the highlight of his afternoon. He keeps nagging you to take up squash, and he’s batting around the idea of running next year’s marathon, so yeah, he will really appreciate those Therabody Jetboots. Saint Laurent Striped Track JacketMr. Porter - Tumi 3 Pack Golf Club Cover SetBergdorf Goodman - Casablanca Blue Stade SneakersSsense - Therabody Large Jetboots PrimeRevolve - RLX PulloverRalph Lauren - The OutdoorsmanHe is saved as “Paul Bunyan” in your contacts. He’s constantly sending you photos of the mushrooms he recently foraged, and he doesn’t understand how you can live in the city. He loves nothing more than an afternoon hike, and he won’t give up until you join him on his new favorite trail. Hopefully, one of these gifts will hold him over for at least a little while. Denim ShirtGucci - Jil Sander Press-Stud Bucket HatSsense - Prada Re-Nylon Hooded JacketBergdorf Goodman - Loro Piana Straight-Leg ShortsMr. Porter - Made in UK 991V2New Balance - Carhartt WIP Walter Shirt JacketMr. Porter - The Curator He always has an in to the latest exhibition opening, and sometimes when you walk into his apartment, you feel like you’re in a museum. He’s sophisticated and chic, but somehow also impressively down to earth. He may have more art books than Albertine, but Claiborne Swanson Frank’s newest work will get the place of honor on his favorite coffee table because it will remind him of you. Father and ChildAssouline - 101 Copenhagen Wabi VasePietra Casa - Loewe Dendrochilum Magnum Orchid Scented CandleBergdorf Goodman - Hector Saxe Leather Mahjong SetNeiman Marcus - Blaze, Marcy Edelstein, 2020Saatchi Art - Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille Eau de Parfum Sephora - The Beach BumFrom Memorial Day on, you know you can find him at the beach. He has a cooler filled with wine, snacks, and sparkling water, and the perfect summer playlist always teed up on Spotify. He’s best friends with the lifeguard, and he always has sunscreen to spare. But his swimwear rotation could use an upgrade, and he will feel like Poseidon himself in these LV trunks. Monogram Swim ShortsLouis Vuitton - Jacques Marie Mage Julien Square SunglassesMytheresa - Beach Towel With Jacquard LogoGiorgio Armani - SoundLink Flex Portable Speaker (2nd Gen)Bose - Loewe + Paula's Ibiza Raffia Tote BagMr. Porter - Orlebar Brown Hibbert Camp-Collar Striped ShirtMr. Porter - The Homebody He binges TV shows with impressive ferocity. Goodreads is his favorite app, and he always has a book recommendation. His favorite sweatpants are filled with holes, but he refuses to replace them. And don’t even think about sitting in his favorite chair, though maybe he’ll let you take it for a spin after you upgrade his lounging with a new cashmere throw. Sweatshirt With EmbroideryGucci - Ralph’s EspressoRalph Lauren - The Elder Statesman Stripe Super Soft BlanketBergdorf Goodman - Long Sleep SetSkims - Todd Snyder x Armando Cabral Quebo Zip Pouch SlipperTodd Snyder - The TravelerHe needed new pages sewn into his passport to house all the stamps. His Instagram grid reads like a digital atlas, and he has status on four different airlines. He’s a master at sleeping on a red eye, and he might even take you on his next adventure after he sees the new camera you got him. Leather BlousonFerragamo - RETROSUPERFUTURE Secolo SunglassesSsense - Bedford Calfskin DuffelRalph Lauren - Fujifilm X-T5 Mirrorless Digital Camera XF16-80mm Lens Kit Amazon - Bespoke Small JournalAnya Hindmarch - Loewe Puzzle Fold Toiletry BagBergdorf Goodman - For the One Who Has EverythingHe has a million ties, two dozen watches, and a wardrobe to rival that of Carrie Bradshaw. He’s not afraid to take style risks, and he has been stopped on the street by TikTokers with tiny mics three times to ask about his outfits. He’s eclectic, whimsical, and a complete enigma, and he will find those Jan Leslie cufflinks absolutely delightful. Lint RollerDunhill - Saffiano Edward Trick Robot KeychainBergdorf Goodman - Dries Van Noten Straight-Leg Sequinned Drawstring Bermuda ShortsMr. Porter - Jan Leslie Backgammon CufflinksBergdorf Goodman - Off Piste 8 Feet American Pool TableHermès - Source link

[norajworld]

Images courtesy of the brands. Collage by Ashley Peña If gifting is an art, then picking out the perfect Father’s Day present is like painting Guernica. Dads will insist they need nothing, but you don’t want to show up to the festivities empty-handed for another year running. Besides, the father (or father figure) in your life deserves to be spoiled, to get the camera, cologne, or sweater they would never purchase for themselves.Now, you don’t have too long—Father’s Day is fast approaching, and the pressure is building to get something wrapped and ready before that brunch or golf outing comes along. Luckily, we’re here to make the process a little bit easier. So, whether your celebrant is a mountain-trekking outdoorsman, a briefcase-toting workaholic, or somewhere in between, we’ve got the perfect gift that will prove your true appreciation, and maybe even get ol’ Dad to crack a smile. The TrendsetterHe has been following the designer mix-ups of the last year like others follow the NFL draft. He doesn’t go anywhere without his Lemaire tote, and you have a slight suspicion that Timothée Chalamet might be copying his style. He’s a trendsetter, and you want to make sure your gift deserves a place in his already impressive wardrobe. Maison Margiela Sprinter SneakersFarfetch - Gallery Dept. Self Title T-ShirtMr. Porter - Alighieri 'The Star Gazer' RingSsense - Zankov Colorblock SweaterBergdorf Goodman - Rick Owens DRKSHDW Porterville Baseball CapSsense - The Row Vasko LoafersBergdorf Goodman - The One Who’s Always in a SuitHe has two phones, three laptops, and a weekly standing reservation at the Polo Bar. He’s not the most experimental with his style, but he loves a classic, quality item. He knows when he opens that Patek Philippe box, he isn’t the new owner of the gorgeous watch, he’s just protecting it for the next generation (you, of course). Sculpted Cable Cushion CufflinksDavid Yurman - H Tissage TieHermès - B Charm Tie BarBurberry - Patek Philippe Nautilus Torneau - Saint Laurent BriefcaseBergdorf Goodman - The Sports StarHis short game has seen some great improvement this past season. His favorite gym bag hardly ever gets a day off, and his post-workout sauna session is the highlight of his afternoon. He keeps nagging you to take up squash, and he’s batting around the idea of running next year’s marathon, so yeah, he will really appreciate those Therabody Jetboots. Saint Laurent Striped Track JacketMr. Porter - Tumi 3 Pack Golf Club Cover SetBergdorf Goodman - Casablanca Blue Stade SneakersSsense - Therabody Large Jetboots PrimeRevolve - RLX PulloverRalph Lauren - The OutdoorsmanHe is saved as “Paul Bunyan” in your contacts. He’s constantly sending you photos of the mushrooms he recently foraged, and he doesn’t understand how you can live in the city. He loves nothing more than an afternoon hike, and he won’t give up until you join him on his new favorite trail. Hopefully, one of these gifts will hold him over for at least a little while. Denim ShirtGucci - Jil Sander Press-Stud Bucket HatSsense - Prada Re-Nylon Hooded JacketBergdorf Goodman - Loro Piana Straight-Leg ShortsMr. Porter - Made in UK 991V2New Balance - Carhartt WIP Walter Shirt JacketMr. Porter - The Curator He always has an in to the latest exhibition opening, and sometimes when you walk into his apartment, you feel like you’re in a museum. He’s sophisticated and chic, but somehow also impressively down to earth. He may have more art books than Albertine, but Claiborne Swanson Frank’s newest work will get the place of honor on his favorite coffee table because it will remind him of you. Father and ChildAssouline - 101 Copenhagen Wabi VasePietra Casa - Loewe Dendrochilum Magnum Orchid Scented CandleBergdorf Goodman - Hector Saxe Leather Mahjong SetNeiman Marcus - Blaze, Marcy Edelstein, 2020Saatchi Art - Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille Eau de Parfum Sephora - The Beach BumFrom Memorial Day on, you know you can find him at the beach. He has a cooler filled with wine, snacks, and sparkling water, and the perfect summer playlist always teed up on Spotify. He’s best friends with the lifeguard, and he always has sunscreen to spare. But his swimwear rotation could use an upgrade, and he will feel like Poseidon himself in these LV trunks. Monogram Swim ShortsLouis Vuitton - Jacques Marie Mage Julien Square SunglassesMytheresa - Beach Towel With Jacquard LogoGiorgio Armani - SoundLink Flex Portable Speaker (2nd Gen)Bose - Loewe + Paula's Ibiza Raffia Tote BagMr. Porter - Orlebar Brown Hibbert Camp-Collar Striped ShirtMr. Porter - The Homebody He binges TV shows with impressive ferocity. Goodreads is his favorite app, and he always has a book recommendation. His favorite sweatpants are filled with holes, but he refuses to replace them. And don’t even think about sitting in his favorite chair, though maybe he’ll let you take it for a spin after you upgrade his lounging with a new cashmere throw. Sweatshirt With EmbroideryGucci - Ralph’s EspressoRalph Lauren - The Elder Statesman Stripe Super Soft BlanketBergdorf Goodman - Long Sleep SetSkims - Todd Snyder x Armando Cabral Quebo Zip Pouch SlipperTodd Snyder - The TravelerHe needed new pages sewn into his passport to house all the stamps. His Instagram grid reads like a digital atlas, and he has status on four different airlines. He’s a master at sleeping on a red eye, and he might even take you on his next adventure after he sees the new camera you got him. Leather BlousonFerragamo - RETROSUPERFUTURE Secolo SunglassesSsense - Bedford Calfskin DuffelRalph Lauren - Fujifilm X-T5 Mirrorless Digital Camera XF16-80mm Lens Kit Amazon - Bespoke Small JournalAnya Hindmarch - Loewe Puzzle Fold Toiletry BagBergdorf Goodman - For the One Who Has EverythingHe has a million ties, two dozen watches, and a wardrobe to rival that of Carrie Bradshaw. He’s not afraid to take style risks, and he has been stopped on the street by TikTokers with tiny mics three times to ask about his outfits. He’s eclectic, whimsical, and a complete enigma, and he will find those Jan Leslie cufflinks absolutely delightful. Lint RollerDunhill - Saffiano Edward Trick Robot KeychainBergdorf Goodman - Dries Van Noten Straight-Leg Sequinned Drawstring Bermuda ShortsMr. Porter - Jan Leslie Backgammon CufflinksBergdorf Goodman - Off Piste 8 Feet American Pool TableHermès - Source link

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut; got some more "draft stud" for y'all. No real reason, haha, just because I actually wrote a pretty decent chunk more of this than I ended up having space to post for the mystery slots last week and like, it SEEMS like so far this WIP is up a few of your ( crime ) alleys. Like juuuuust maybe, hahaha. So I took a lil' writing break and got it all Tumblr-able for all of your tire-thieving, crime-lording needs! ❤️ content notes/warnings: omegaverse, family-planning via attempting to recruit a crime lord who is legally your dead-brother-by-adoption to knock up your best (boy)friend, and Tim Drake's total lack of respect for both personal boundaries and Jason's impending migraine. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Jesus Christ,” Jason groans, burying his face in one hand. He doesn’t even bother asking when or where the little creep got ahold of any of his DNA to test that. Fucking–probably off the damn memorial, for all he knows. Or, well–admittedly "at a crime scene" is an equally likely option. “You know if I were legally alive, we’d be legally siblings, right? Technically we are legally siblings.” 

“I actually think it’s pretty common to ask siblings for favors like this?” Tim says. “Or cousins, maybe.” 

“Yeah, the actually related ones!” Jason says in exasperation. “Or at least the ones who aren’t trying to drop-kick each other into either early retirement or a life sentence in goddamn Blackgate!” 

“I mean I really don’t think we have that kind of relationship anyway, considering, but also I’m not the one who you would ideally be knocking up,” Tim says with a shrug. “Also full disclosure, I don’t actually think Blackgate could handle you so there’s not much point in trying to send you there. Maybe if I just needed a free weekend or something, I guess.” 

“Why did Batgirl turn you down on this, Dream Warrior?” Jason asks, half-eyeing him.

“I’m going to blame either David Cain or Lady Shiva for that,” Tim says. “Probably Shiva, considering we were effectively asking her to sire a pup and then not actually be their parent. I didn’t think there was a high chance of her saying yes, honestly, but she was both our immediate first picks so it seemed kinda . . . I dunno, disingenuous not to ask her?” 

“Yeah, obviously she would've been,” Jason snorts as he unwraps his sandwich to tear a bite off. It's goddamn delicious, which MM's always is, but he's still vaguely annoyed because it's goddamn Tim Drake who brought it. “So what pick in the stud draft am I, eleven? Twelve? Lucky number thirteen?” 

He cannot actually imagine how many people must've turned Tim down for him to be here, so–

“No, you're second,” Tim replies, shaking his head. Jason stares blankly at him past his mouthful of wafflewich. “If you say no, I’ll be calling Super-Man, and if he says no then–” 

“Superman?!” Jason sputters. 

“No, Super-Man,” Tim “corrects” like he somehow thinks he’s actually saying a different name. “Kong Kenan. How was that not self-evident?” 

“Because it sounds exactly the fucking same, that’s how!” Jason says in exasperation, though that does make more sense. Definitely more sense than Clark, anyway, because that was definitely a what the actual fuck EVEN moment. 

“It really doesn’t, but this is getting off-topic,” Tim says, then gestures meaningfully with a hand and asks, “Which is: what are your thoughts on sperm donation? 

“Sounds boring,” Jason replies frankly before taking a swig of coffee. 

“Oh, that was a metaphor, Kon said he’s fine either way but I’d really prefer you actually fuck him,” Tim clarifies with a much more meaningful gesture. 

Jason stares blankly at him again. Tim continues to look unfazed. 

“. . . is this a kink thing, Beyond Thunderdome?” Jason asks finally, for lack of any other reasonable explanation.

“This is a ‘I don’t want my omega to feel like a lab experiment for his first breeding heat because he’s worried about making me feel emasculated’ thing,” Tim says. 

“. . . yeah, fair enough,” Jason allows, taking another sip of his coffee. Still goddamn delicious; still Tim Drake-related annoying. “Jesus, though, you could’ve led with that. You know I’m a fucking beta, though, my chances of successfully knocking up your boy in one cycle are not that impressive.” 

“Well, that’s the useful thing about cycles,” Tim says with another little shrug. “They, you know, cycle.” 

“You want me to fuck your omega through probably multiple heats?” Jason asks, still more than a little incredulous about the idea. Again, he was not even aware that those two were dating. He was not even aware that Tim was into invulnerable and insatiable touch-based telekinetic omegas built like sexy industrial farm equipment with a very public history of “let me prove I’m good enough” issues, though actually when he thinks through that full sentence in his head it’s admittedly difficult to make an argument for why he would not be. 

Maybe if he was very, very gay or very, very asexual, Jason guesses. 

“Well, if it goes well this time, we’d probably ask you to do it again in a couple years anyway, so why not?” Tim says. “Kon wants to have more than one.” 

“Oh, so twice as many multiple-heat fucks?” Jason says. Jesus, this little freak of human nature. 

“Maybe three times, depending?” Tim says, tilting his head to one side with a considering expression. “Kon was designed to be hyper-fertile but given I have heard of exactly one Kryptonian ever that had a littermate it seems like Kryptonians might have a lower chance of conceiving litters than humans do, so we don’t really know how that might go yet.” 

Jason pauses for a long moment, because all general incredulity and disbelief aside, that sentence contained a red flag the size of a damn bedsheet. Several bedsheets sewn together, in fact. 

Maybe just an entire Bed Bath & Beyond’s worth of bedsheets, actually. 

“‘Designed to be’,” he repeats, and Tim’s expression briefly sours. 

“We’re not going to get into what Paul Westfield’s backup ‘make myself a custom Superman’ plan entailed,” he says. “Especially because he didn’t immediately scrap the thing when Kon came out sixteen and unpresented.” 

“Fucking hell,” Jason says. Well, that definitely explains Tim wanting to make sure Superboy doesn’t feel like a lab experiment while he’s getting bred.

“Mmmhm,” Tim says. 

Jason eyes him for a long moment as he takes another swallow of very good coffee, debating on how stupid this idea is and also if he wants to deal with Bruce’s opinion on him getting involved in it. A counterargument, admittedly, is Superboy’s very pretty smirk and ass you could bounce a giant penny off. 

Though . . . 

“Do you actually factually know if Kryptonians have a lower chance of conceiving litters, or is the prevalence of them having singles potentially just a birthing matrix thing?” he asks. “Because another solid reason I can think of to use one of those besides not risking the dam’s health or life and doing whatever weird ‘genetic optimization’ thing they had going on with 'em is Kryptonians being a lot more likely to conceive litters. Like big litters.” 

“. . . that is a question that I should have thought to investigate sooner,” Tim admits with a slight wince. 

“Y’think, Season of the Witch?” Jason asks dubiously. Tim frowns, tilting his head again and clearly confused, and Jason rolls his eyes. “Third Halloween movie, genius.” 

“Oh,” Tim says. “I was wondering what the names were about.” 

“Terminator, Nightmare on Elm Street, and Mad Max,” Jason says with another roll of his eyes. He did not think calling the guy a bunch of threequel titles was that subtle a dig. “Jesus, kid, watch a movie that didn’t originate on either Netflix or PornHub."

“I don’t watch either of those?” Tim says, wrinkling his nose. 

“You watch porn somewhere, otherwise you wouldn’t be asking me to knock up your bitch for you,” Jason snorts dubiously, tearing another bite off his sandwich. Who even has that thought process? 

“I’d really prefer you not call him that,” Tim says. 

“Who cares, he’s not even here,” Jason retorts dismissively, waving him off as he chews. 

“Well yeah, I wouldn’t be telling you not to call him a bitch if he was here, because that would actually be helpful,” Tim says reasonably. Jason . . . pauses, and stares at the corner of the wall past Tim’s head. It’s a wall. 

 It . . . sure is a wall, yeah. And also the corner of a wall, yup. 

Wall. 

Jason chews the rest of his bite very slowly and does not allow himself to process the implication that Superboy might like being called a bitch in bed. 

“I’ve never actually heat-partnered anyone before,” he says. “Like I’ve rut-partnered a few people, but I feel like that is likely a significantly different experience. And probably also easier, frankly, given getting most alphas off takes about a fifth of the time and effort as getting most omegas off.” 

“That’s not really a concern,” Tim tells him with another one of those little shrugs. Jason stares at the corner of the wall past his head some more. It is . . . still a wall, yeah. Yup. Definitely still a wall.

What the fuck does that even mean? There is literally no way Tim meant “you wouldn't need to bother getting my omega off while you were breeding him as non-lab-experiment-ly as possible”, because in what fucking world would he have meant that, so like–what? Just . . . what? 

Jason’s brain is unfortunately supplying some very goddamn creative and very goddamn dirty theoretical answers to that question.

[sunnebeam]

twin flame bruise. (01)

PART 1.

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader, jeon jungkook x reader (yes they're different people)

plot: the jeon twins have become nothing more than two strikingly similar looking guys who share a mere home address and a last name. but in their senior year of college, the estranged twins may have found one more thing they share in common – you.

warnings: jeon twins au, possible headache bc the use of jeongguk and jung kook is v confusing (but they're different people here your honor), specific warnings will be emphasized in the actual completed fic (whenever that may be)

series index. | masterlist + disclaimers.

note: normally i don't post unfinished wips (especially ones with plots that aren't completely fleshed out yet) but this au has been sitting in my drafts since amas 2021, so i thought why not post a lil snippet and just dip right after? (p.s. please manage ur expectations bc 1. i'm too lazy to write this and 2. i have no idea where i'm going with this plot)

More often than not, identical twins are actually more different than similar.

The Jeon twins are a testament to that, even going as far as to insisting they’re entire opposites instead of merely different.

Jeongguk — the older of the two by a mere seven minutes; the golden son — can’t remember the last time he and his younger brother Jung Kook — the black sheep of the family by a great margin; the problematic son — saw eye to eye. In fact, their whole lives have been a flurry of grit and determination to prove they’re not the identical twins people saw them to be; that they’re individuals, that they’re their own persons.

First it was the nicknames. Despite the differences in spelling, Jeongguk and Jung Kook sound almost exactly the same and neither twin is having that. Thus, Jeongguk became “Guk” and Jung Kook became “JK”. Anyone who calls them otherwise will earn themselves a grimace from the older twin and a scoff from the younger.

Next it was their personalities, and by extension, their forms of expression. Both twins are conventionally attractive, a commonality they can’t help but share through their genes, but each own up to the word “beautiful” in their own unique ways.

Jeongguk is the calmer of the two, the more responsible one, the reliable pillar. His stellar grades and bookish habits surprisingly go hand in hand with his eleven piercings and constant need to work out at the gym. He prefers his hair in a short, neat cut and favors studs as earrings for a generally clean look.

Jung Kook on the other hand is the more adventurous of the two, the mysterious one, the wild card. His grades are just enough to make him pass despite the fact that he rarely shows up to classes, always disappearing during periods of time and reappearing as if nothing is amiss. He prefers his long, chin-length hair slicked back so that it complements his undercut and favors hoops as well as dangling earrings for a slightly bolder look.

Despite these insistent differences, the twins still end up in the same university, in the same campus, albeit in different programs. Guk earned himself an academic scholarship into the business program their parents always pushed at, whereas JK also landed himself a scholarship through his participation in their old high school’s varsity team that allows him to pursue a sports science program.

Studying completely different majors and living in completely different parts in the huge campus, the two brothers see each other less and less with each passing year.

After their freshman year, JK stops coming home for holidays and breaks. In the middle of their sophomore year, Guk stops making excuses for his younger twin whenever their parents ask questions. By their junior year, the two brothers have become nothing more than two strikingly similar looking guys who share a mere home address and a last name.

But in their senior year, the estranged Jeon twins may have found one more thing they share in common.

Something. Someone.

You.

You’ve known JK since your first year and after that first hookup, you’ve become a regular fixture in his apartment. You fight endlessly, you make up frequently, you fuck constantly, but most of all, you care for each other deeply. Though you never really crossed the line between friends-who-fuck and something more, you know him well enough to be assured of your place in his life.

You trust him. That is, until you meet his twin.

You meet Guk in your last year of college, which opens up a whole new jar of questions. Why didn’t JK tell you about his twin brother? Didn’t he trust you? What other secrets is he hiding?

Will you just be another thing they have in common that ends up further driving the wedge between them?

He’s running out of time.

Fuck, Jung Kook knew he shouldn’t have come here. No amount of money is worth the stress of putting himself in sketchy situations. Not to mention this is the longest he’s been gone and there’s no doubt that his phone is filled to the brim with your concerned texts and voicemails.

“What did Yoongi tell you about this guy?” his partner Namjoon asks him as they’re observing their client from a distance.

“Nothing,” Jung Kook replies robotically.

“Figures.”

A tense silence falls over them. Nothing like the smug, comfortable silences they shared in previous gigs. This one is more fragile, more different. Just like how this client seems more different, more dangerous.

“You still wanna go through with this, JK?” Namjoon still thinks to ask even though he already knows the answer.

The logical decision would be for Jung Kook to say no, to not risk their safety for the sake of measly profits that they only get a portion of, to walk away and forget all about the sketchy looking client. But Jung Kook has never been exactly logical.

Your face flashes through his mind, your smile, your laugh, the way you felt in his arms, the sincerity in your voice when you said three peculiar words to him, the tears you cried when he shut you out weeks ago.

Even in this tense situation, you’re all he thinks of. You’re it for him and that’s exactly why he needs to make this gig. He needs the money. He needs you.

So instead, Jung Kook replies with, “yes,” and takes a step forward.

All he needs to do is take a step forward.

The front door is already open and he can already see the inside of the apartment, but for some reason Jeongguk can’t move. Maybe he’s afraid of what he might find. Or more specifically, what he might not find.

It’s been a week since he heard around campus that his twin brother has gone AWOL, and this time around doesn’t seem like one of his usual two-to-three-day disappearances. Normally Jeongguk wouldn’t meddle. After all, it’s been several months (or was it years?) since he last physically saw and talked to his own twin. But something is tugging at him this time. Something tells him this time is different.

He sighs. Then takes a step forward.

JK’s apartment looks exactly like how he remembers it, save for a few minor changes. Nothing seems to be amiss. Nothing indicates distress or disturbance, but almost everything indicates a voluntary exit. He pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s heard all the rumors about what exactly his twin does in his spare time. He once tried confronting him about it but was met with an enraged cry of, “mind your own business!” When he asked again on a particularly calm day when they were both civil with each other, the latter merely whispered a shaky, “nothing too dangerous, I swear.”

Guk paces around the modest apartment, running his hands through his hair in agitation. It’s obvious what he has to do but how exactly does he start looking for his younger brother who’s been gone for nearly three weeks? He doesn’t know where to begin, where to sit down and think. He doesn’t even know if this apartment is the right starting point.

A knock on the door. Then another one. Then a series of hard knocks followed by frantic shouting.

“I know you’re in there, asshole!”

Jeongguk lurches out of his seat and fumbles with the locks on the door. He doesn’t know if the shouting was directed at him, that whoever is outside was talking about him, or at his absent brother. The yelling continues with a mix of “open up!” and “I hate you! I hate you!” before he finally manages to open the door and is greeted with the sight of an angry, tear-stained face.

You’re panting, looking at him as if he’s the bane of your existence but that’s impossible because he’s sure he’s never met you before.

“You asshole!” you screech at him as you step forward and land punches on his chest, not noticing how it’s slightly bigger and sturdier than you’re used to. “You act all cold to me out of the blue! Disappear for three weeks, ignore my calls and texts! Then you come back and not tell me? I hate you, JK, I hate you!”

Jeongguk is bewildered and if he isn’t so distracted by your hands on his chest and your pretty eyes trained on him, he would’ve noticed how your entire body relaxed in his hold and your lips formed a pout.

“Fuck it,” you whisper.

Then you kiss him.

He’s kissing you back.

You deepen the kiss, and it’s like the past three weeks of worrying never happened. The kiss is as explosive as usual, both of you so into it with passion and eagerness, and you’re just grateful he’s back. He’s safe and in your arms again. Your tongue darts out to trace his lower lips and you hear him moan appreciatively before your wet muscle feels something different. Something metal.

You pull back all of a sudden. His eyes are still closed as he tries to chase your lips but you push his chest back with narrowed eyes. He opens his eyes in a daze.

“You got a lip piercing?” Your squinted eyes land on his right eyebrow. “And another on your eyebrow?” Your eyes trace the six studs that form an aesthetically straight line on his right ear. “You look different. You cut your hair. And your arm… those tattoos…” you trail off when you spot a full sleeve tattoo on his right arm instead of the few inked doodles you remember. “JK, what’s going on?”

The name which you call him snaps Guk out of his kiss-induced haze and he finally, finally, takes a good look at you. You’re beautiful. Wait, that’s probably an understatement. You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen — from your swollen lips to your arched eyebrow to your sweet, confused face.

“Who are you?” he asks. Something he should’ve done before he welcomed your lips on his.

You growl adorably in irritation and he almost kisses you again before you spit back a retort. “I’m not playing around. Be serious for once, JK.”

“That’s the thing,” he says slowly as he steps back and looks at you cautiously. “I’m not exactly JK… I’m his twin brother—“

“I told you to stop messing with me!”

“I’m not! I’m not, I swear!” He holds his hands up in surrender when you look at him threateningly. “I’m his twin brother, Jeongguk, but I mostly go by Guk. I’m sorry my brother never told you about me but I’m sure he has his reasons.”

Your eyes narrow even further. “What are you implying? If you’re saying he— Are you saying he doesn’t trust me?”

“That’s not what I meant. Look, I’m sorry, I don’t know any more than you do but I promise you I’m telling the truth.” He grips his hair in frustration and resumes his earlier pacing.

You eye him cautiously when he finally takes a seat on the couch. You observe how he looks eerily similar to JK, if not the exact same — from his doe eyes to his luscious hair to his full, rosy lips — yet he harbors his own unique features that separate him from your missing lover. Your chest aches when you remember those same pouty lips spouting hurtful words at you weeks ago and shutting you out.

“So you’re really…” you start cautiously, “…JK’s twin brother?”

“I am,” he answers promptly and you vaguely hear him add a hushed, “unfortunately.”

JK has always been secretive with you but hiding the fact that he has a twin brother is like a slap to your face. How could he have kept something this big from you? How could he, when you have always been unapologetically open with him?

“Why didn’t he ever tell me?” you whisper, your voice cracking in the end.

Jeongguk sighs. “I don’t know.”

You’re both quiet when you sit on the couch a few inches away from him. You both stare at nothing on the floor, with you trying to grasp the fact that JK never told you about his identical twin and with Guk trying to comprehend the truth that his twin brother never told him about you.

“Jeongguk… I mean, Guk?” you whisper. “Do you know where he is?”

He answers after a minute. “I don’t.”

Another minute. “Is he in danger?”

Half a minute, then Jeongguk turns to you with soft voice. “I hope not.”

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[squarebracket-trickster]

Last Line Tag

@zmwrites, you lucky human! You get the last line of my entire WIP for your efforts.

We got lucky, and we have duty to pass on that luck. But ours is a happily ever after, so it is only fitting that it ends in a true love’s kiss.

idk how I feel about this one. It feels a little sappy atm so I will probably doctor it in draft 3. But! that is a problem for future me!

Blowing a little tagging kiss to: @macabremoons, @star-studded-whales, @lexiklecksi, and @inkspellangel

[theheartmold]

WIP WEDNESDAY

I was tagged by @greypetrel and @scribbledquillz! I have been working on chapter 2 of my Dragon Age 2 fic; chapter 2 is entirely from Jurian’s perspective. Here’s the first few paragraphs. Tags under the cut!

When Jurian awoke, he found himself in an unfamiliar place. He blinked his eyes open rapidly, rising and sitting up on his elbow; with his other hand he rubbed at his eyes, grumbling quietly to himself as he examined his surroundings. A bed of furs, dark drapery pulled over narrow windows, and a doorway through which a cold breeze drafted. He had fallen asleep in one of the aravels—no doubt one in which a scout lived, and was temporarily empty. With a groan and a sigh, he slipped out of his makeshift bed and quickly redressed himself for the morning.

He wished he had brought his armor with him; the studded leather and steel was heavy to carry, but it would protect him better from anything on the road compared to the tunic and breeches he had worn. He had flown from Kirkwall so suddenly, without thinking—an impulsive decision. As he thinks about his visit to the Hightown markets, he finds that his spine is stiff and his knuckles white from tension where he claws at his own trousers.

Trystan was just frustrated about the expedition, Jurian tells himself as he throws his cloak over his shoulders.

@fenharel-apologist94 @dragonologist-phd @daggerbean @flashhwing @gvnseylike @hannahrama @idolsgf (I know you’re sick ignore me if you’d like) @jellydishes @nightmarist @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul @oopsalltes @thiefbird @vahingoniloinenlapsi @zundely

[supernovadragoncat]

My Writing Year in Review (2022)

I did one of these in 2020 and 2021 and wanted to give an update for what I've been up to in 2022 and plans for 2023.

✍️ 2022: The Year of The Re-Write ✍️

In February 2020, I fell back into the SanSan fandom after a four year hiatus. Coming back to fandom meant temporarily shelving my completed manuscript for "God and Monsters". It was meant to be a temporary break, but I spent the next year and a half writing a lot, reading a lot, learning about the craft of writing, and only occasionally revisiting the manuscript.

By September 2021, I'd gotten enough distance from it to know it needed work. It wasn't my perfect baby anymore. It was a piece of writing that had good bones but needed to be ripped down to the studs and built back up again. Mind you, I'd already rewritten it from fanfic form, so the prospect of another massive revision was daunting.

But writing is rewriting, so I rolled up my sleeves and did the work, day in and day out through the rest of 2021 and the entirety of 2022.

It meant waking up at 4:00 am to squeeze in a few hours of revisions and rewrites before work. It meant late nights because I was on a roll and didn't want to stop. It meant getting honest with myself about when I needed to scrap something and start again.

The blood, sweat, and tears were worth it. I ended 2022 with a draft I'm proud of, one that's close to the finish line.

🔮 2023: The Business of Writing 🔮

The manuscript is called BLOODLINES. It's with the first round of beta readers. It'll then go to editors.

I've spent the past year learning everything I can about the publishing industry and getting honest with myself about what I really want as an author, what success means to me.

There's great pride and validation to be found in landing a traditional publishing deal. However, when I quiet my ego and fears and pipe dreams and listen, I know this:

I want to shamelessly create art that I'm proud of. If this story pleases no one else, it will always please me. Finishing this story that was conceived in a dream almost ten years ago will be enough for me.

My plan is to self-publish this work. Like most self-published authors will tell you, you really need to run the enterprise like a small business. So that means, this is the year of learning the business side of writing.

In the meantime, I plan to finish a few of my SanSan WIPs (Moonchild, Origins, and The Naughty List). I've got one just about done and will start posting it soon.

Thank you all for the support, encouragement, and love. Many blessings in 2023!

✨ Onwards ever, backwards never ✨