#i also started writing the sequel

[acequeenking]

Fandom: Tekken

Relationship: Kazama Jun/Mishima Kazuya

Rating: Explicit (this one has sexy times so not for kiddos)

THIS IS POST TEKKEN 8. BIG TEKKEN 8 SPOILERS. DON'T READ IT WITHOUT FINISHING THE GAME UNLESS YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT SPOILERS.

Additional Tags: Reunion, Reunion sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Awkward Conversations About Not-So-Accidentally Trying to Murder Your Son and Actually Murdering Your Dad and Kind of Accidentally Abandoning Your Unknown Baby-Mama, Forgiveness, Getting Back Together, Dealing with the mental fallout of Tekken 2 to Tekken 8, which for both of them is...a lot, but they're getting there

"I am not the man you want me to be," Kazuya admits. "But that does not mean the man I am does not love you."

"...Still?" Jun asks, the word the only thing that can quite get out of her throat.

[bigmammallama5]

Something fun to be posted to my supercorp coffee book v2 tomorrow for pride <3 wrote it on my lunch break lmao

[residentrookie]

fic authors self rec!

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love!!

thank u loml for the tag @static-radio-ao3!! not a lot to choose from here guys i only have three fics so….. so….. um…

i’ll be seeing you—jegulus, multiverse au, longfic

It’s 2022, and James Potter is both single and depressed. But after a strange encounter with a psychic (?) involving psychedelics and discussions about the multiverse, James begins to have crazy dreams about a magic world. In one of these dreams, his desperate attempt to save a drowning boy somehow sends him careening into a dangerous and magical universe (circa 1979), stuck with none other than a skeptical Regulus Black as his guide. Chaos inevitably ensues.

Back in 2022, a different Regulus Black is once again estranged from his brother and therefore his brothers’ stupid friends, including James Potter. But after a ridiculous and infuriating run in with what Regulus believes to be the James Potter he knows (or used to know), Regulus is forced to reevaluate everything he thought he knew about the way the world works. Chaos once again inevitably ensues.

Or:

A Very Non-Magical James Potter from 2022 and a Very Magical James Potter from 1979 accidentally swap universes, and now must figure out how to get back to their own worlds. Oh, and Regulus Black is inextricably involved in both universes, which is obviously just a coincidence.

are you sick of me? (would you like to be?)—jegulus, sickfic au, one shot…. or is it????

James Potter is sick. Regulus Black is the only person available. (Snapshots from 8 hours in the life of a non-caretaker attempting to assist someone who hates to be cared for.)

starfell lodge— wolfstar/jegulus, ski lodge au, christmas fic

It's Christmas Break at Starfell Lodge and four boys each have a conundrum on their hands this holiday season. Sirius Black is on a mission to talk to the cute barista he sees every winter, and this time he's not going to mess it up. Remus Lupin is hellbent on ignoring the Snow Angel (annual, disgustingly wealthy vacationer) who seems determined to be his friend. Regulus Black will do whatevever it takes to never set eyes on James Potter again. And James Potter is desperate to get back into Regulus' good graces, not knowing what he did to push him away in the first place.

tagging @nevvaraven @a-fiery-fox @blackberry-sunset @twisted-tales-told @otrtbs @itsjaywalkers and an open tag for any pookies who want to participate <3

[winterbean177]

NEW SOLARS FIC COMING UP ON AO3 !!

Hi all!

This is WinterBean (AO3 Writer) here. Just wanted to share with you guys that a new fic of mine will be showing up very soon hehehe... It's in the editing stage atm, but yes it has been sorta finished as a draft right now, sitting in between my first two fics in length (~12k+, although I'll have to change that depending on how long it gets after editing).

This focuses on Yumyulack and Korvo's relationship Post S5 Finale!

Here's a little summary of the story (S5 spoilers ahead!)

NAME: Papa Korvo

Potential Tags: Hurt, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, One chapter is a bit of a whump, yes this is focused on Yumyulack and Korvo, Post S5 Finale, ~ Daddy Issues ~, Yet another excuse to hurt my favourite character, Taco Bell Parking Lot Fight Scene, Bad Communication, injuries and overprotective father moments, could be OOC but I can't tell by myself, etc etc...

Summary: Yumyulack and Korvo struggle with working through their issues as a family, and things end up going a little bit awry. After all, Yumyulack calling Korvo 'Papa' seems to have some lasting effects. In the end, Korvo just wants to be a father, and Yumyulack secretly wants to have a father, yet they simply cannot get over themselves and admit they do really see each other as family.

But when things begin to go wrong, Yumyulack's desire for a father figure becomes more of a need as some fights are just a bit too hard to handle all by oneself...

Anyway, hope you guys have a good day, and I really hope this little taster summary (I'll adjust it to fit the vibe more once it's up on AO3, in which I'll post the link here)!

See you guys there, hopefully! Comments / reblogs with any additions/ideas/opinions are welcome!!

-WinterBean ❤️❤️

[metaphorfordeath]

Writing updates: I am now teetering on the precipice of finished with just a couple smudges to buff out in my query packet. Synopses are brutally difficult to write, query letter comparatively easy. I want to do maybe one more pass on the MS but at this point I think I'm mostly blind to any mistakes it has, and Corinne was very thorough, so I'm calling it done and polished.

Non-novel stuff: I just finished a new short story that I'm submitting now, plus keep your eyes peeled for another story coming in God's Cruel Joke on 9/6!

[maddieandangel]

Had a weird Hollow Knight-related dream a couple days ago, so I decided to draw a major scene I remembered from it dgsgshf

More context will be in the tags, for those interested!

[sunnwalker]

Oghhhh Angel and Timothy's miserable awkward and just horrible dynamic (Thinking about it (I want Angel to rip into him I need her to be mad at him idc she deserves to bully him))

[theangrypomeranian]

me since November: I miss Baby Steps 😞

me at work today remembering that there are still Zeke POVs and smut scenes from BS that I can write:

[rainintheevening]

Part I – Part II ... Part VII – Part VIII

Not the first winter, nor even the second winter, but the third is hardest, and perhaps that's why it catches him off guard.

Their first is soft, almost reluctant at times, big snowflakes, the tarn like glass, rosy sunsets before tea. A glorious harvest they termed Aslan’s Bounty, means full cellars and storehouses, means feasts by the fire and spiced cider with the fauns.

The second is colder, with deep drifts, and gusty winds, and thick warm cloaks. There is less of a harvest, but with the remains of the first, there is enough to go around.

And Edmund… to Peter at least he seems well enough.

Cold seems to strike into his bones quicker than before, and he never runs out into the snow alone, and some mornings he comes to breakfast with tired eyes and a pinched look that speaks of little sleep and haunted dreams, haunted by things Peter can only make calculated guesses at.

But there are always many candles, and people who need their help, and hot drinks, and books to read, and Lucy curling under his arm on the cushions by the fire, and Peter watches for his smile so he can smile too.

The third winter… the third winter is one of ice. Rain on snow on frozen ground, and stark ice-coated trees, and sun on glittering grounds that makes everyone squint painfully. Sharp, howling winds, that cut like a blade, and icicles hanging everywhere till Peter's making jokes about accidental assassination, and Susan scolds him, and she organises teams to go around knocking them down before they get too big.

The harvest is small too—Narnians still relearning the ways of agriculture, and raiders testing the strength of her defences, now that there are things worth taking from inside her borders again—and as the joy of Christmas fades into the new year, winter hunkers down over them, and Peter feels a growing weight in the long dark of each passing day.

It is those worries over his subjects, he thinks later, that blind him to his brother's troubles. (And he begs Aslan for the eyes to see better, for the knowledge of where to be looking when, so he can care for all of them as they deserve.)

He jars awake one night, to a room quite dark, to the wind beating angry and guttural at the casement, and the rattle of ice against the glass.

He lies still, every sense taking in his surroundings, trying to understand, until a whisper that is not a whisper reaches his ear, and something tugs hard and sharp under his ribs.

Edmund.

Peter is up and out of bed in a moment, knowing without knowing how that Edmund needs him, his brother needs him, and he is quick in the dark, bare feet on ice cold stone shocking him the rest of the way awake, before he tugs open Ed’s door, not bothering to knock.

He is met with a blast of keen, wet wind, and he gasps, hands suddenly shaking as he drags the heavy wooden door shut behind him.

The fire in the hearth has almost gutted out, but Peter can make out the empty rumpled bed, the gaping window, and the slim figure silhouetted against the angry, lowering sky. Peter stumbles across a floor slick with rain and ice to Edmund's side, grabs his arm, yanking him away from the sill.

“Lion's mane, Ed!” he finds himself shouting, as he catches the two open panels and heaves them shut, struggles with the clasp for a moment, finally drops it into place.

It's pitch black, in the shocking hush, Peter is shivering suddenly and violently, and he grabs Ed’s arm again, gentler this time, tugs him in the direction of the hearth.

“Oh, Ed, you're soaking wet! What in blazes were you doing?!”

Edmund still hasn't spoken, when Peter tugs him down beside him on the rug which is blessedly dry, reaches shaky hands to stir the coals, toss on a piece of kindling. A pause before the flame leaps up, and light seems to spill out into the room, warm and golden. Peter puts another stick on for good measure, before he turns to face Edmund who hasn't moved from the half-kneeling, half-sitting position he'd fallen into.

“Ed?”

The cold that fills the room is suddenly less concerning than the chill that lances through Peter's stomach, and he reaches for Ed’s shoulders, sopping wet pyjamas sticking to skin, white clumps of icy pellets dripping off the dark hair hanging in his eyes. Peter feels the trembling start, lays his hand against a painfully white cheek to turn Ed’s face to his.

“Ed?” he says, gentle, gentle, cold fear inside consumed by flame of love, trying to find the eyes he knows so well. “Brother mine?”

Ed's shivering harder now as he looks up, firelight softening his expression, and Peter swallows hard as he sees wild, desperate terror bleed away like the water running down his cheeks, and a spark kindles in Ed’s eyes.

“Oh, Aslan,” he murmurs, and then he is tumbling forward into Peter's arms, and Peter gathers him up, all sopping wet lanky fourteen years of him, and they hold on to each other, as warmth begins to fill the room, as warmth blooms where their chests press together.

Peter doesn't care how wet he's getting, he presses his nose into the ice-coated hair above Ed’s ear, feels the great shuddering of cold and breath and relief and possibly tears too.

“I am here, brother,” he whispers. “I promise. You're safe and well with us. And we're all under Aslan’s care.”

A lump swells in his throat, as the hope of his own words strikes home, something he needed to hear himself, and he knows he doesn't have to be told what has plagued Edmund in the night, they are held in that truth, and though they shiver, that foundation will never be shaken, they need only cling to it as it carries them, and he closes his eyes, lets his own weary tears fall.

“Pete,” Ed whispers, a kind of affirmation.

Neither of them is listening to the wind any longer.

Next

[badolmen]

I can fix him*

*bad writing, underutilized gameplay mechanics, characters with unfulfilled potential, funded by bootlickers

[solcorvidae]

Lambert "Bellsy" Bellegarde, #27, an absolute menace on the ice.

Fic pending. It will take place after I finish Hypothermic and be set immediately after the final chapter is uploaded... whenever that ends up happening. We still have a ways to go.

[neomanateefromexiletribe]

life is worth living again, we're getting that act ii sequel

[warandpussy]

sit on lap 🥺

[findafight]

Miraculous au

"before I start it's important you know this wasn't my fault."

Well. His Kitty sure has a way of setting him at ease. "You know that's probably the quickest way to get me thinking it's definitely your fault?"

Grimalkin sighs and plops, not ungracefully, beside him. "It really isn't. There are few, if any, things I could have done differently to prevent this, Red."

Red Scarab raises his eyebrow. "Oh? And what is "this", kitty cat? Leaving me in suspense isn't gonna help you if it actually is your fault"

He rubs his face in his hands, pinches his nose too. It's a habit Red Scarab has watched him do a dozen or two times by now. He's frustrated and probably embarrassed. Damn. "My best friend knows who I am."

"what? How!? You know our id-"

"she figured me out!" Grimalkin doesn't even make a pun of it, his nose scrunched and cheeks red. "She just. I rescued her, and instead of calling me 'grimalkin' or 'grim' or even 'malkin', she says "bye, my actual real first name"! I almost brained myself tripping when I heard her."

Eddie tries to steady his breaths. Okay. Alright. He wanted to be the first to find out Grim's identity, wanted to maybe be the only one who knew, but fine. He could share. They could work with this.

"how'd she know? She see you transform or something?"

Grim chuckles. Which, rude. This is pretty fuckin serious, little kitty cat. "She said when she saw Grim on tv he seemed familiar, then he kept being familiar. How he moved, talked, smiled. Something niggling at the back of her mind when she saw the heroes of Indy. Then, when I rescued her, it clicked. Suddenly whatever magic the miraculous puts around us to conceal our identities faded, and all she saw was me, her best friend, in silly cat ears and a mask. Saving the city."

"I find the ears charming." Red Scarab finds them absurdly cute, actually. But flirting with his kitty is for later.

"thanks. And that's it. She just. Knew. Saw right through me"

"you trust her?"

Grimalkin nods. "More than anything. I doubt anyone other than her could figure me out, anyways."

"yeah?" A bitter swoop of jealousy tangles itself in Red's stomach. Grim's voice is filled with unabashed fondness when he speaks about this nameless girl. He trusts her more than anything. More than red?

"well," he starts, as though reading Red's mind "maybe the same as you. In regards to my own health and life. I dunno. It's different with you. You're my partner." And ain't that just the sweetest thing? Grimalkin might be in love with some other mystery boy, might be so close with his best friend she saw through ancient magic to his core, but whatever is between them is special. Is different.

Flying above Hawkins, their borough of Indianapolis, bonds them differently than the others. Sure, Grim has friends and a potential boyfriend (as much as that pains him to think of) in his civilian life, and even a best friend who knows about his secret, but they'll never be his partner. Never have the same connection to him as Red does, saving the city from a superviallian. Red Scarab will hold onto that and keep it close to his heart for a while.

Grim nudges their shoulders together. "I really am sorry, though. You deserve to know who I am too. R--my best friend would probably get along with you like a house on fire, I'm a little worried about you meeting" and there he goes, saying such nice things. Acting like them knowing each other's identities and being ingrained in each other's civilian lives is an inevitability. Eddie hopes it is. The people his kitty loves seem, from the sparse details he's shared, quite bizarre and friendly and lovely. They must be, if Grimalkin loves them so.

"yeah? Think I'd recognize you out of the mask?" He says, instead of I hope so, I'd love to, I want to see all of the people you love and love them too.

He laughs. "Probably not. Hopefully not. Don't think I could handle knowing more than one person can see through me so well."

"would you recognize me?"

"no." He says it immediately, and it hurts, just a little. Like being dismissed. (Grimalkin doesn't mean to hurt him, he knows. Thinks the flirting is just for fun, a game, and not Eddie desperately trying to win the heart of a man whose goodness and snark and exasperation and humour stop him short and steal his breath away.) "I don't think so. The Miraculi magic is supposed to protect our identities, and once someone knows, they can see the overlap. Only someone who really, truely knows you and is looking would be able to break it. It happened to me because we have legitimately thought about the pros of combining into a blob person. I don't think many people are actually like that. They certainly don't seem to get me and --and my best friend." He shrugs again. "I dunno. That's what it seems like, anyway."

Grim grins at him. "Wouldn't be very magic if I just saw you walk into work one day and blurt out 'Red Scarab? Is that you!? I'm the guy in a catsuit you beat up supervillains with!' Would it?" If that happened Eddie would probably name it the single greatest thing to ever happen to him, actually. Second only to finding Tikki in his backpack after Hellfire a few short months ago. But his kitty is a romantic, and if he wants a dramatic, heartfelt reveal, then Eddie won't push it. They've got time.

[transshion]

what if i published my dragons dogma fic. what then

[thisghosts-obsessions-again]

Okay listen! If a native writer ever releases a political court drama, doesn't matter if it's historical fiction or fantasy, from ancient China or central Asia, or literally other parts of South Asia and has a full grasp of the history and context with RC, I. WILL. EAT. IT. UP!!! FROM A NATIVE WRITER WHO ACTUALLY GREW UP IN THE CULTURE!!! Please!!