#i'll share more excerpts soon

[macaiv]

Just wanted to share an excerpt from this article where Esteban talks a little about the Concours Excellence Mecanique competition of Alpine. This interview was done during the Alpine PR event held in Madrid last December.

[szariahwroteit]

An excerpt from chapter 16 of All That Glitters.

18+ minors DNI.

Naya’s last full day in Germany fell on the day Jude and his teammates were given a day off to rejuvenate after such a physical football match the day before.

Tomorrow morning, she was set to fly out to London to meet up with her family and coaches ahead of Wimbledon. Although she couldn't wait to get the tournament underway and be with her loved ones, as she lay in bed with Jude, Naya took her time, savoring the moment.

The time could’ve been no later than 7am as Jude pulled Naya’s Naked body against his, wrapping his arm around her waist as they both stared out the window at the sunrise.

Naya could feel Jude's heartbeat against her back, a comforting rhythm that she knew she would miss once she left for London. She turned her head to look at him, his sleepy eyes making her smile.

"Good morning," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw before getting up so she could head into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Jude watched her go, admiring the way the early morning light danced on her skin. Sitting up in bed, he let out a yawn as he got up, following in the same path Naya had moments before.

He joined her in the bathroom, standing behind her as she brushed her teeth. Their eyes met in the mirror, sharing a silent conversation as Jude wrapped his arms around Naya from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I'm going to miss you," he murmured, his warm breath tickling her ear, as he reached for his own toothbrush.

Naya turned in his arms, planting a kiss on his chest before reaching for a robe hanging on the wall next to the shower. Pulling it on, she settled onto the bathroom counter, watching Jude as he brushed his teeth.

Jude couldn't help but smile at Naya's playful gesture, feeling a wave of sadness knowing that she would soon be leaving. Finishing up, he rinsed his mouth and turned to face her, leaning in to give her a tender kiss.

Parting her legs so he could stand between them, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as their lips met in a sweet, lingering kiss. Naya melted into his embrace, savoring the taste of him.

"I'll miss you too," she whispered against his lips, her eyes locked with his. “But I have one more day here, so let’s make the most of it.”

Jude rested his forehead against hers, his hands untying the rope that held her robe together so he could reveal her bare skin underneath. Naya's breath hitched as Jude's touch sent shivers down her spine. His hands moved with gentle precision, tracing patterns on her skin as he leaned in to capture her lips in another kiss, deeper and more passionate than before.

"I don't know why you put this on to begin with," Jude mumbled as he slipped the robe from Naya's body, allowing it to pool around her as he pulled her body to the edge of the counter, deepening the kiss as their bodies pressed together in a rush of desire.

Lifting Naya from the counter, Jude carried her back to the bedroom, laying her down gently on the bed as their hands roamed each other's bodies, exploring familiar territory with newfound urgency and passion. Their connection deepened with every touch, every kiss, as if they were trying to imprint the memory of each other onto their skin before they had to part ways.

Laying Naya on her stomach, Jude’s fingers gently danced over the reddened marking he left on her ass the night before. The visual working hand in hand with his memory of the night before causing his length to throb with desire.

His touch was both gentle and possessive as he leaned down to press his lips against her skin, leaving a trail of kisses along her spine. Naya arched her back, a soft moan escaping her lips as she felt the heat between them grow.

“Reach back and spread your pussy open for me,” Jude instructed as he settled between her legs, his hands caressing her thighs. Naya's breath hitched at his command, but she didn't hesitate to comply, wanting to give herself completely to him in their final moments together.

As Naya followed his command, she felt a surge of excitement and anticipation coursing through her body. Jude's touch was electrifying as he explored her most intimate parts, his fingers expertly teasing and pleasuring her.

Turning her head to look back at him as he positioned himself at her entrance, Naya's eyes met Jude’s The intensity of their gaze held a myriad of emotions - desire, longing, and a hint of sadness at the impending separation. But in that moment, none of it mattered as Jude slowly entered her, their bodies becoming one as she let out a moan that sent a chill to Jude’s very core.

“You’re so fucking perfect,��� Jude groaned as he began to move inside her, the rhythm between them building with each thrust. Naya's hands gripped the sheets, her body responding eagerly to his touch as they moved together in a dance of lust and desire.

Tilting her hips upward Naya met Jude's movements with her own, their bodies moving in perfect sync as they reached new heights of pleasure together. The room filled with the sound of their shared moans and the slap of skin against skin, a symphony of passion.

Leaning down Jude pressed a rather sloppy kiss to the corner of Naya’s lips, his forehead resting against her shoulder as he whispered words of adoration.

“You’re the only one I want, Naya. I’m yours." Jude murmured, his breath warm against her skin as he continued to drive his body into hers with a fervor that spoke of his feelings towards her. Naya's heart swelled with emotion, feeling the intensity of their connection in every touch and every whisper.

As they moved together in a powerful crescendo of pleasure, their bodies intertwined in a dance of intimacy that transcended the physical. In that moment, nothing else existed for Naya and Jude but the shared ecstasy of their union.

As they reached the peak of their passion, a wave of euphoria washed over them, leaving them breathless and spent in the aftermath of their tryst. Wrapped in each other's arms, they lay entwined, basking in the glow of their shared intimacy.

As the sun continued its ascent in the sky, casting a warm glow over the room, Naya and Jude lay entwined. Kissing his lips, she couldn't help but smile against them as she felt his fingers slowly tracing up and down her spine.

Rolling away from Jude, Naya sat up, getting out of bed so she could grab one of his T-shirts and pull it on.

“Why are you getting dressed?” he frowned, making Naya laugh as she joined him back in bed.

“Because I know better, the last time you had a 'day off,' there was someone knocking on your door every ten minutes. I don’t want anyone to catch me with my boobs out,” Naya said, making Jude chuckle as she lifted the shirt to flash him.

“Fair point, but I’ll happily tell everybody to fuck off today,” Jude said as he took her hand, pulling her on top of him so she straddled his lap.

Naya giggled, as she settled on top of him, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. She leaned in, capturing his lips in a sweet, lingering kiss before resting her forehead against his. Jude's gaze softened as he caressed her cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her skin.

"You don’t have to tell anyone to fuck off, I’m fine with sharing you, just not with your ex.” Naya smirked.

Jude chuckled at her playful remark, his eyes filled with amusement as he responded. “Are you sure you’re not willing to share?”

“Only if you’re willing to share, too,” Naya replied with a mischievous glint in her eyes, playfully nudging Jude's chest.

Jude let out a laugh, the sound filling the room with warmth. "Fuck no," he said as his hands found the hem of her shirt, raising it to reveal her naked body beneath. "No one is allowed to even look at any of this but me."

“Says who?”

"Says the man who just spent the morning showing who the fuck you belong to," Jude replied.

Naya's breath caught in her throat at the sudden dominance in Jude's touch, a mix of arousal and surprise flashing in her eyes. His grip was firm but not constricting, a clear display of his possessiveness in that moment.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Hiii

I remember when you were posting about your Kim/Wik Twins AU and I was so hooked! There’s so much potential for angst in this AU😩🤌 I always wondered if there was anything new going on with this WIP.

PS: I’ve been following your blog for a little while (I don’t interact bc im shyy) and I love all your Kimchay WIPS and little excerpts you’ve blessed us with (they make my day everytime I see one). So I want to personally thank your brain for all these wonderful ideas and just thank you for being you 😊

send me an ask and I'll tell you about one of these WIPs!

Oh anon, you're a darling! This was so nice to wake up to <3 I actually haven't worked much on that AU since originally posting it, but you're right, there is so much angst potential in this AU between Wik and Kim. One of the inspirations from it actually came from World of Warcraft, and how the character Varian was split into two people, the other one being Lo'Gosh. I really loved how it wasn't just "this is the good side vs. the bad/feral side." Varian was polite and charming and good at socializing, but he was also vain and easy to manipulate (which was the point of splitting him), whereas Lo'Gosh was definitely a barbarian, but he was also all of Varian's strong will and ambition/motivation, and passion. I hadn't seen that kind of character splitting before, because it's usually an easy shorthand for doing a good/evil thing.

So for the purposes of this fic, Kim isn't just all the evil mafia while Wik is the sweetheart singer. Wik is very driven and tbh a little selfish, he's kind to his fans but ultimately very cold, because he grew up in a world where anything he cared about could be used against him. Both of them are still calculating in clever, but it's Wik that begins investigating Chay, intentionally using his stardom as an in, and purposefully manipulating him to get more information. He takes it to a stronger degree than we actually see from Kim in the show.

Whereas Kim is the quieter, more contained side. They both love music but Kim prefers guitar/piano over singing because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself the way Wik does, although he does write a lot of poetry/lyrics. One of the betrayals from Wik leaving is that he stole Kim's songs. The other is that he left Kim behind. He loves his brother more than anything, and Wik leaving him without so much as a goodbye was devastating for him.

Here's your slightly less than 500 words!

“You left me!” “Would you have even come with me?” Kim’s voice breaks on a desperate, “Yes!” He wants to take it back as soon as the word leaves his mouth, too honest in the heat of his moment, chest heaving with the weight of it. The only good thing about the admission is that his brother is too stunned to reply; Kim takes satisfaction in that, in the implication of it, as Wik realizes the depth of his own selfishness.  “Kim…” “I would…” Kim swallows. Days of captivity have left his throat dry. It hurts, speaking these words aloud, tearing them out of his chest to release them after all these years. “I would have. If you asked me to, I would have.”  He would have followed his brother anywhere. They were always meant to be together. Kim and Wik, two halves of the same whole, mirror images down to their names. Until Wik decided he couldn’t bear his own reflection anymore.  “Kim, I’m sorry, I didn’t know—” “How could you? You only ever think about yourself.” Kim laughs. It’s wet. It hurts, like everything else about this damned conversation. Maybe Wik was right; they were better off alone. “I thought you knew me better than anyone, but you don’t know me at all.” Maybe Wik never did. What a horrible time to realize how truly alone he really is.  Wik doesn’t speak for a long time. Neither does Kim, keeping his head bowed and his breaths measured, cracked ribs aching with every rise and fall of his chest. What a cruel joke that the first time they’re sharing a space in years, something Kim has longed for since the day Wik left, and it’s only because someone else has forced them together.  “I don’t think you would ever leave the family,” Wik eventually says, his voice quieter than Kim has ever heard it. “You’re not like me, Kim, you never wanted to leave.” Of course he didn’t. Why would Kim ever want to leave his brothers? But at least if he had, Kinn and Tankhun would have had each other. They wouldn’t have been alone, not like Wik is now. Not like Kim is, forever missing his other half. Neither of them were meant to be alone. "It doesn't matter anymore." "Yes it does. Kim. I never meant to hurt you. I—" But there's no more time to talk because their captors are walking in, and Wik is throwing himself in front of Kim, both of them bound and unable to put of any kind of fight. Not that it would have mattered; Wik already got himself kidnapped. Too nosy to stay out of the family completely, but apparently the idealistic fool didn't bother to keep up with his martial arts. Still. Despite blaming him for the current predicament, Kim is a little bit touched that Wik is trying to protect him now. Too late to matter, maybe, but it's something.

[whumpsday]

Whumpmas in July #25

Share a sneak peek of something you're working on

all my WIJ stuff is being completed like the day before since i fell super off-schedule, so here's some other WIPs that are less "on the burner"!

there's a bunch of em, so i'll put them under a read more. this will primarily consist of Kane & Jim and BG3 fanfic things. at the very bottom is something with major Kane & Jim spoilers, but i'll give ample warning.

excerpt from a segment of a Kane & Jim AU RP i intend to edit into its own little thing. still have to put it in past tense and polish it up lol

But he has another problem: how is he to possibly stop this from happening again? He can't stay awake forever. Jack's things he can protect by sleeping in the middle of the floor with nothing, but he can't stop himself from screaming. Can't he? Kane eyes the little scissors that came with the sewing kit, then takes them into the bathroom. This is worth it to not lose access to food, he tells himself. And if nothing else, it will prove to Jack he's serious about trying to be good. He'll do anything to please his rescuer. Using the mirror as reference, he makes an incision into his throat. With all he's been through, he knows where to aim by now. He snips into his vocal chords until the whimpering stops, making sure not to interfere with his ability to breathe. Blood and tears mix in the sink, mostly blood. He presses his hand over his throat until the bleeding stops. It's quicker than usual: faster healing due to the blood, he supposes. It looks nasty, but he can't make noise now, at least until it heals.

this excerpt is from a Kane & Jim-related oneshot. by "related", i mean it takes place tens of thousands of years before K&J's story, when the first vampires were created.

Alukah sliced the man's throat with her sickle, watching the fear die in his eyes as the life left him. The life that would soon belong to her, for an eternity to come. She held him just so, letting his blood drain into the earth where she had prepared the spell, before tossing him in a pile with the rest to be buried later. The farmers said they could be used to nourish crops, an extra bounty on top of their main purpose. The tedium it would require would no longer be a concern, at least: they'd all have nothing but time if this went as planned. The message-girl bounded up to her, undisturbed by the mountain of dead.

this is another Kane & Jim AU, actually a fanfic (not sure if that's the right term to use) of a K&J x MMSS crossover i have with @not-a-space-alien. in the RP we did, Lex was Kane's victim and the hunters handed him over to her instead of Jim. i'm writing an AU of that where things go pretty badly and he gets sent back. i've been working on this for like a year and it's almost done, but i get nervous writing other people's ocs lol i'm always worried i'll write them ooc...

Kane hissed, loud like a feral cat, a sound he hasn’t made since his early days with the hunters. Eyes wild with fear, he tried to exude STAY AWAY FROM ME with every fiber of his being. “Did you just hiss at me?” Ari asked, incredulous. It only made her stop for a moment before she reached for his hair, to drag him away, to drag him out into the sun- Kane had no options left. It was eternal torture, or anything at all he could put between it and himself. It dawned on him that he had absolutely nothing to lose. There was no worse fate he could be punished with. And he’d said he would do anything to avoid it, hadn’t he? He lunged forward, swiping at her neck with bound hands. Ari was quick, but she wasn’t quick enough. Kane missed her throat, but as she turned her head away, his nails clawed at the side of her neck, delicious blood spewing from it. If Kane had been thinking clearly, he would have taken the opportunity to find something to end his life with. But he wasn’t thinking clearly: the only thing occupying his mind was the enticing scent of blood. Ari shouted something, but he wasn’t listening, focused solely on trying to get at the food he needed more than anything. A hard kick to the chest sent him flying back into the wall, further splintering already-broken ribs from yesterday’s beating. He tried to get up again, but promptly collapsed: he had no energy left in his burnt, beaten, starved body for another attack. He’d barely had enough for one. He wheezed, trying to catch his breath around fractured bone.

extremely tiny bit from a Catharsis chapter i have planned, during Luan's captivity

Cyrus’s shoe pressed against the back of Luan’s head, grinding his face into the floor. “This is where you fucking belong. You and every other nobody who thinks they’re hot shit.”

this excerpt is for chapter 2 of Lost at Sea, a miniseries i started a long time ago and never finished.

It had been several days since the monster had taken Digory to her cave, and by some miracle, he was still alive. He was alone much of the time. Each day, she brought him fish- more than he could eat in a day- and a large shell filled with freshwater. Blessedly, he was out of the sun. His skin, though still angry and red, was beginning to heal a bit from more than a week of nonstop exposure. It was miles better than the boat. Digory had been sure he would die there. Of course, he was still in dire straits. His mangled legs weren’t getting better anytime soon, though by this point he’d gotten somewhat used to the throbbing pain of them. He was pretty sure that his feet turning purple was a bad sign, but at least he couldn’t feel them. That was probably worse. And of course, he wasn’t always alone. The mermaid was terrifyingly enormous. She liked to stare at him with unblinking eyes almost as big as he was, her claws as sharp and menacing as her teeth. She could kill him with no effort at all, if she wanted to. She probably would. Digory pretty much figured that was why he was being kept. After starving on that wrecked ship so long, there was little meat on his bones. Every bite of fish he took to sate his hunger was bringing him closer to his own death.

here's an excerpt from chapter 2 of my BG3 fanfic Astarion and the Cleric (remember that?) that if i'm being honest i probably won't ever finish

That gave Astarion pause. “A vow of celibacy.” “It means I don’t–” “Yes, I know what it is, darling.” Astarion’s hand retreated as he attempted to think quickly of a way to salvage the situation. Had a mark said that, he would have normally given up and gone for someone easier. But Gentle was not a mark. Gentle was a reliable source of food, and by some twist of fate the gods surely found hilarious, currently his best means of protection from Cazador. He was an irreplaceable resource, and things were too shaky as they currently stood what with their… moral differences. He had to make sure– “I’d still love to spend the night together.” Gentle spoke in a manner evoking his namesake, stepping ever-closer. “It would simply be less… lustful. Though I understand if you’d prefer to seek elsewhere for your night of passion instead. I overheard Lae’zel expressing similar wishes?” “Ha.” The githyanki was perhaps the one least likely in all the camp to allow him to indulge in her blood. This could work, however. “What exactly do you have in mind?” Gentle’s smile turned playful, his turn to be coy. “You’ll have to wait and see.” “Cheeky. Wait and see I will, then,” he settled on. As Gentle skipped off to enjoy the party, Astarion tried his best to push down the part of him that ended up relieved.

despite only ever posting 1 chapter of Astarion and the Cleric and not even getting to the whumpy part, i went off the rails and started writing an AU of it in which Gentle, the titular cleric, is also turned into a vampire spawn by Cazador.

here's an excerpt of Gentle sealed in a tomb long-term as punishment, something i do intend to post probably next month for augusnippets after i put it in past tense:

Gentle prays. He is unsure by what interval he prays, unable to track the passage of time, sealed in the tomb as he is. He prays whenever it feels right. Sometimes he prays for hours on end without ceasing, sometimes he goes what might be days without, like a child throwing a tantrum. But never longer than that. More often, he prays what might be once every hour or so while he lays awake. For there is nothing for him to do here but pray, and there is no one else to listen but Ilmater.

something else from the same Astarion and the Cleric AU, Gentle helping Astarion get acclimated after he's first turned (i had Gentle be the older spawn)

Gentle’s heart sank when he saw that Master had brought a new spawn along with him into the dormitory. He’d hoped he would be the last. He and Violet already took home plenty of innocents– as much as it tormented him, he could not disobey. But a new spawn? It was a fate worse than his unfortunate victims would get. A fate worse than death. The dormitory did have six beds, in addition to Violet’s seventh in the favoured spawn room. Gentle didn’t like to dwell on the implications. The new spawn looked to be an elf. Master seemed to have a preference for them, himself being the only non-elven member of the ‘family’. An obvious newborn, he was covered in fresh dirt and clearly trying very hard to keep himself from shaking with terror. Gentle could just barely make out wounds beneath the later of filth.

this next except is from an entirely separate BG3 fanfic called Answered Prayer. the premise is that Bhaal hears Astarion's desperate prayers during his phase of "trying" every god in hopes someone will help him. Bhaal sends The Dark Urge (my durge oc Perran) to slaughter Cazador and everyone else there. Perran then takes Astarion for himself and becomes his carewhumper.

Bhaal. Oh, how he’d prayed to the Lord of Murder. To have a sliver of opportunity, a stake steady in his hands. Or for some brave hero to come do the deed themself, vanquishing Cazador for him. For Astarion was a well-suited devotee, was he not? Had he not ended enough lives himself to earn his salvation? As he was made to fight the cultists at Cazador’s word, his master’s will overriding his own, he supposed the answer was yes, not that he’d live long enough to see it. He was weak with hunger, and the hooded figure he’d been ordered to distract overpowered him easily, pinning him to the palace floor despite his struggles. “Not that one,” their leader barked, jabbing a confident finger toward Astarion before running a dagger through Aurelia’s throat. His ‘sister’ gurgled, the terror fading from her eyes as she lost her life for the second time, joining the rest of his downed siblings. The Bhaalist sighed with the same satisfaction one might feel after a full meal, turning his attention toward Cazador. Despite his own dire straits, Astarion paused his efforts at wriggling away to watch. If it were possible, Cazador’s death would make a fine appetizer to his own– or whatever the Bhaalist had planned for him. He’d never thought he would see Cazador overpowered, but the Bhaalist was a force to be reckoned with. Deliciously, he had a front-row view to the slaughter. The Bhaalist made quick work of incapacitating him and slow work of killing him, dragging screams from his throat just as Cazador had done so many times to him. If only the victory were not tainted by knowing he was next. Just like that, Cazador laid dead and bloody on the ground. Astarion could feel it as soon as the gory mess the Bhaalist had made of him transformed from an undead swath of agony to a truly-dead mangled corpse: the thread tying him to his master snapped. He was free, all too late.

the following contains major spoilers for Kane & Jim canon. it's a bit for a future present arc scene i had to write early because it wouldn't leave my head.

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Stab the little bitch and make it hurt. The thought pushed its way into Jim’s mind, much louder than his own quiet, dulled thoughts. So much more important. Anton was telling him to stab Kane. Jim walked over to the cupboard drawers and took out one of the silver forks. That should work. Just as Kane got the upper hand and tackled Anton to the floor, Jim plunged the fork into his back. His task completed, he stood idly by as Kane shrieked in pain, the sound and smell of burning flesh permeating the room. Something nagged at the back of his mind- like something was wrong? No, nothing was wrong. How could anything be wrong when he felt this peaceful?

that's all i've got! literally almost every WIP i have in my folders.

@whumpmasinjuly

[talentpiper11]

Work In Progress Wednesday

Hey all! Thanks to @rimeswithpurple and @monbons for the tags.

This week I've been a liiiiittle bit incorrigible— I've finished the short (~1500 word) story that is my longform method of punching the Mage in his metaphorical face, and I'll be posting that very soon, and I've also started (you'll never guess) ANOTHER wip. I cannot be stopped, not even by my own better judgement. To that end, here's a little barely-spoilery excerpt:

“What was that?”  I’m unable to keep confusion (and, I’ll admit, a bit of awe) from my voice as I ask. Frankly, I think I’m responding remarkably well to the revelation that Simon can apparently share his magic with people— with me— but then again, I’m somewhat inured to his tendency to do impossible things. He’s been known to do six impossible things before breakfast, which is especially remarkable given how early he leaves our room in search of scones. Something in my tone must surprise him, though, because he throws his arms up into a defensive stance, protecting his chest and face. As if I’m going to attack him. As if I hadn’t sworn myself to our truce. (As if I’d ever really hurt him.) 

Yes, it's more Snowbaz. No, I will not stop.

I'll be starting a new job next week (Making more money! Having better benefits!) and I'm excited for that, but it may mean I don't get as much writing done here. We'll have to see!

Last but not least, here's the first layer of painting I've done on that Check, Please art I posted the sketch for last week!

So, there's that! The next pass of painting will lay in the finer details but I'm pleased with this work so far.

As always, no pressure tags and hellos to:

@monbons @rimeswithpurple @larkral @raenestee @youarenevertooold @simonsnowsfreckles @prettygoododds @roomwithanopenfire @ebbpettier and anyone else who’d like to post something but hasn’t been tagged yet!

[softboynick]

wip wednesday - 5/15/2024

leika? posting a wip wednesday??? i promise i'm not dead!!! to make up for the weeks i've missed, i'll share TWO snippets because i love you all, one from a beautiful chance and one from my @aroyallybigbangrwrb <333333 tags are under the cut!

excerpt from chapter 8 of a beautiful chance:

“Alex?” The alpha’s name falls from Henry’s lips with such reverence that he may as well have been genuflecting at his feet if he weren’t confined to the hospital bed. Even in his current state, he reaches out for him, for his alpha, in desperate need for something soft, something familiar.  Relief floods his chest, a tight squeeze that gradually releases to let in the air that completely fills his deprived lungs. Cutting through the sharp stench of disinfectant is the familiar aroma of cinnamon, magnolias, and burning wood, and there is a sudden stinging in his eyes that he can’t ignore. Home. That is what he smells when he breathes in Alex’s scent. He is home.  “Alpha,” Henry says, a whimper falling from chapped lips.  For one terrifying moment, he thinks Alex will turn away from him, will leave and disappear through the door, never to return, but then, the alpha closes the distance between them. Three long strides, and there he is, collapsing at his bedside.  “Baby.”

excerpt from It's all in my head (I fuck up again and again):

That is when he notices Bea in the corner, sitting on the floor with an acoustic guitar on her lap.  “You’re playing again,” he says, not even trying to conceal his shock.  “I am,” Bea answers with a shrug, her left hand tight around the neck of the guitar. She looks down at her fingers and smirks as she strums a C chord. “Someone inspired me.” Henry silently steps further into the room and joins her on the floor. David doesn’t seem like he wants to leave his side anytime soon, and Henry doesn’t want the old boy to leave either, so he lets him settle in his lap, warm and comforting. And for a moment, time comes to a standstill and rewinds, back to the days when life was much simpler and when happiness meant more to them than just an unattainable fantasy.  “Play something for me?” he asks her quietly.  Bea nods. “Sure. Any requests?” “Surprise me.” 

for my honeys and lavenders who've tagged me in the past: @taste-thewaste @onthewaytosomewhere @firstprincehornyramblings @duchessdepolignaca03 @bitbybitwrites

@tinyarmedtrex

also tagging: @henrysfox @bigassbowlingballhead @eusuntgratie @captainjunglegym @lfg1986-2

@luainthewild @henryspearl @england-would-fall @anincompletelist @wordsofhoneydew

@itsmaybitheway @sheepywritesfics @theprinceandagcd @anchor-bird-94 + OPEN TAG <3

[triptychgrip]

Fanfic Rec: What if we'd seen Akito in therapy, post-curse break?

For the second time in just a week, Fruits Basket fanfic has utterly ruined me, in the very best way. For the Fruits Basket Monday prompt 'What If', I wanted to share a rec for the amazing story 'I can barely breathe' by @renywrites, which is a masterful 15K story that details the messiness and loneliness marking Akito's journey of atonement and healing after the zodiac curse break.

Note: in this fic, Akito uses they/them pronouns, which is what I'll be using as well, out of respect for the author's vision

Akito is obviously a very, very polarizing character in the fandom, and I'll be honest that they are not someone that I usually seek out reading material for. But as I detailed in my post on the dangers of individualizing systemic abuse, healing for the Sohmas doesn't begin and end with Akito, because they, too, are a victim in the multi-generational cycle of trauma that has plagued the Sohma family. Given the vastness of this cycle and the many people that enabled it to continue over time, I've always wished we could have seen more content in the manga (and more explicitly in Fruits Basket Another) that touches directly on what the challenges would have been when the various members of the Sohma family have to pick up the pieces of their lives after the curse breaks.

'I can barely breathe' does this so poignantly by focusing on Akito and Shigure, in particular. Below is an excerpt of one of my favorite parts, from chapter 2. I hope you'll give it a chance!

----

Akito starts to panic once the sun begins to set. They’d gone through their entire “toolbox”, as Itsuki would call it. They’d done every distraction in the book to take their mind off of it, and after all of that, they still hadn’t heard anything.

They consider calling Hatori to see if he’d heard anything, but if Shigure truly was mad at them and they pulled strings through Hatori to get him home, he'd be furious. Besides, Hatori would definitely chew him out for blocking them.

But the later it gets, the more Akito’s worry turns to anxiety, and anxiety turns to panic. They start to think about what he’d said the night before. Had he really gone home with a stranger?

The thought alone makes them ill, makes their heart race and palms sweat. He’d slept with their mother to get back at them, once upon a time. That thought doesn’t help any, and their imagination runs wild.

Akito lays in bed, mind racing through all the possibilities. What if he had gone home with a girl? What if he preferred that over coming home to Akito? And if that was the case, was she something better?

(Of course. Everyone was better than Akito.)

Was she pretty? Akito thinks of long, silky hair, and curves that could never be mistaken for a man’s body. They curl tighter into themself, burying their face in the pillow, hiding from the thought of Shigure undressing said curves.

(Their mother looked like a proper woman. Shigure had once said, in a fit of cruelty, that their mother looked like everything Akito could never be. Beautiful, tall, curvy. Akito had always wondered if he wished they looked different. If he wished they could be beautiful, too.)

Once the thoughts start they don’t stop. Soon Akito is stuck in a whirlpool, convinced that he had left for good, that they were now truly all alone. The bed becomes too confining, and they find themself on the bathroom floor, fighting to breathe, the tile cold against their skin.

They wanted it to stop. They didn’t want to feel this way anymore! Itsuki had said it would get better, but when? When would they feel better? When would they be good enough? When would their efforts to be a better person pay off?

Yuki had been right. Shigure deserved so much better. Everyone did, really. Akito tangles a hand in their hair, holding hard and hiccupping. They weren’t god anymore. They weren’t anything anymore. When had they become so small? Had they ever been big in the first place?

[emmanuellececchi]

Sorry if I'm not around much...

I am focusing on the editing of my modern romance and I have a few things to do at the house (like always) and I also have decided to take more frequent breaks, from my computer in general. I noticed the last two times I did it, my "creative juice" had been more steady.

I still have fun plans though. This thing about betar reading is exciting me non-stop. I love reading, my work had been for a long time about revising scientific articles, I love fantasy, sci-fi and so on. So why not put that all together? Également : Je peux aussi faire un "beta-reading/ une première lecture en français, donc ne pas hésiter ;)

The other things is about my modern romance. I am lacking some face claim (a lot) in my story. And I thought to myself, what better way to present my characters than telling you a bit about them and asking you, mutuals and followers, what face claim would fit the best?

As I am lacking a good library of face claim, I'll rely on you to suggest someone. After all, why not? It'll be fun to see how you perceive them and I'm sure we will find a good fit for each of my crew!

So here we are. I am editing steadily and I might even a bit of an excerpt to share soon!

[slashingdisneypasta]

Rufus 'RJ' Junior Firefly x Reader || Excerpt

Plot: You try in vein to persuade your boyfriend to stay in with you Halloween morning.

Warnings: 😏 Thirst? No actual smut though.

*@marinerainbow !! I had to write this in responce to your asks XDD Turns out I'm too tired tonight to come up with my own thoughts?? ☠ So I built on one of yours 😅 I hope you like it! ^^ Consider this a late Christmas present? XD 😅

When you wake up, drool under your face damp on the pillow from last night getting fucked into it til you were just braindead, eyes fluttering open to see an empty bed beside you, you immediately fly up into a sitting position. Through sleepy, blurry eyes, you peer around the room, and find Rufus at the end of the bed lacing up his boots. "Oh no no- " You start, mouth tasting like sleep and limbs beyond tired, but pushing yourself forward anyway; crawling over to him and resting your forehead against his bare back. "no, no- where are you going??" This early?? Why is he leaving you this earlyyyyy...

"Gotta tow the car." He just says, straightening up. Cracking your eyes open, your lashes brushing against his skin, you carefully trace a soft, nasty-looking scar cut into his back. When he doesn't move immediately to get up and just leave you, you take the opportunity to wrap your arms around his thick chest and nose over his shoulder blade until you find where you fit curled up against him; your nose settling now on his shoulder and your lips on his skin this time.

"... stay... I'll make it worth your while!~ "

... He doesn't say anything, to this. Thats okay, you know he knows your word is good. And your man isn't a huge talker, anyway.

Sighing, you turn your head and rest your cheek against his back, closing your eyes again. He's warrrm. You feel like falling right back to sleep.

...-but you cant!! You think, jolting yourself awake again. You know, as soon as you fall back to sleep, he's just going to leave and help his stupid siblings. And- why should they always get first dibs?? He's your boyfriend!

Like a cat, you crawl around him and settle yourself carefully in his lap; resting your tired arms over his broad shoulders and leaning your head back in order to see his eyes. His dark, calculated eyes you're obsessed with- you feel like he just knows everything about everyone. About everything. You wanna worship him.

And you have. And you will, again.

"Come on... what do I have to do to keep you here in bed with me today? Not all day, I know this is a Big Day for y'all, but just... a couple more hours. Just a sleep in." Incapable of helping yourself, you lean in and initiate a slow, dirty kiss; just the way he likes it. Just the way you like it, too. Heated and indecent. Amid the kiss, or mini make-out, Rufus manages to not pull you in closer. Not get hard. Not give in to your wiles. He kisses you back, and you know he likes it by the way he kisses you back just as heated and indecent, but you're not changing his mind. So when you pull back, you pout at him. "-Really??"

"Really." He grunts, then picks you up effortlessly and dumps you back on your shared bed; getting up and grabbing a random old shirt off the back of a chair.

"Oh- then- I'll come with you!" You finally give in, fumbling off the bed and looking around with still-blurry eyes, head heavy. And- oh, getting up was a mistake, your body doesn't like it at all. Brain is leaving you on your own and going back to sleep. "Gotta just- " Yawn. "Gotta- um- brush my shoes. Put on my teeth. Where's the, uh- the bathroom?"

Rufus looks at you levelly, his eyes dark and his expression unreadable- but stern. Strong. Intense. God, you love how he looks at you. "Get back in bed."

"No, I- hey!" Before you can even take a step towards where you think the bathroom must be, Rufus picks you right up off of the floor; throwing you over his broad shoulder and, with his big hand on your ass, takes you right back to bed. When you're dropped back onto the mattress, on your back, you immediately try to get up and go again- pushing yourself up onto your elbows, but Rufus is giving you a look that makes you stop dead in your tracks. Makes you breathless. "... okay fine I'll go back to bed, then."

"Good."

"... but you have to gimmie a kiss goodbye."

For a moment a flicker of a grin ghosts over his face at your antics, but it goes away as quickly as it appeared. You don't mind so much, though, you call it one for the win column; grinning back before he offers you his hand to help pull you up for that deep half-naked goodbye kiss.

[sliceoflifeshepard]

Hey guys, just a little heads up on my plans for when I'm actually offline cause I'm moving. It keeps being pushed back and we're still playing the waiting game for a date but it's looking end of September onwards now

Thank you to everyone for being amazing whilst my life is in chaos. We're getting there. We've had some turbulent times but we're all good, for now. I cannot appreciate you guys enough you're amazing: @watermeezer @lordkingsmith @moremysteriesthantragedies @pinkevilwriter @dearunreliablenarrator @insidedamienshead @radiozilla @kaluawoo @stripesysheaven @philosophika

Please bare in mind that below the read more will only take effect from end of september/ when I move

I should be mobile bound so I'll still talk about my ocs and stuff. I'll work on my wips as normal but won't be able to post excerpts that are on my laptop, cause obviously I wont be connected to Internet. As soon as I get Internet, I'll post excerpts of how much I've worked on

I'll post about the wips I'm handwriting and share excerpts by typing them on my phone. I should, when I'm settled in, get my diamond painting stuff set up and I'll be posting photos of that craft too

If I have any fanfiction ideas, I'll get them done too.

For my roleplay blogs, so this concerns @watermeezersworldofkaldria and @thewitchandtheavenger, I'll be able to reply on my phone cause I have unlimited mobile data on contract so we'll still rp! Thank you guys for being so patient

All asks that I get will be answered via mobile ASAP

If anyone has any suggestions for what they wanna see come to this blog, please let me know

[solo-ojo-jojo]

Teaser for upcoming Chenford Fic: Moonlight & Magic

The Rookie Fanfiction | Chenford | Oneshot | Rated G | 4x21 Mother's Day | Chenford Bingo | Truth Spell

Hi, all! I've got a Chenford fic that's been sitting in my drafts since the night 4x21 aired, and I wanted to share part of it. Perhaps if there is enough interest, I'll find the spark of inspiration I need to finish it.

Check out an excerpt below the gif from @chenfordsource, which is right where the story picks up.

(original post here)

“Could you just wait here?” Lucy asked. “I need to go find Lopez and figure out how to go put a curse on someone.”

“Yeah, right,” Chris chuckled before watching her walk away. “Oh, you’re serious.”

Lucy walked hurriedly over to the Detective desks in the bullpen, but didn’t see Angela anywhere in sight. She noticed the computer shut off for the night and dialed her number.

“Angela? Hey, did you already go home for the night?”

“Yeah. But what’s up?”

“Oh, okay.” Lucy was silent for a moment. “It’s not work-related. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” Angela answered without missing a beat. “What’s going on?”

“I, uh—I wanted your help putting a curse on Tim.”

Her friend laughed. “Why do you want to put a curse on Tim? What did he do now?”

“He pranked me and I need to get back at him.”

“With a curse? That must have been some prank he pulled. Curses aren’t to be taken lightly, Lucy.”

“I know. And I’m sure about this.”

“Tell you what. Can I call you back after dinner and we can discuss finding the right one for you? Then I can give you the instructions tomorrow. Would that work?”

Lucy had really been hoping for something tonight. To get back at him as soon as possible—while she was still feeling motivated to get back at him—but tomorrow would have to do. She tried to hide her disappointment when she answered. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Enjoy your dinner. I hope it makes up for the way the rest of your day went.”

“I hope so too.” Angela said, gazing at her husband, who had promised her an evening of pampering. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Wesley looked over at Angela from his spot behind the steering wheel. “Am I hearing that right? Lucy wants to put a curse on Tim?”

“Yep,” Angela said as she clapped her phone between her hands. She grinned widely. “And I know just the one.”

✨️ 🔮 ✨️

I hope you've enjoyed this teaser! I go back to work on this one every now and then. It's been fully outlined and is probably more than 75% finished, but I've been stuck on a couple of parts. Honestly, I could probably benefit from a beta to help push me across the finish fine. You can message me here or on Discord if you're interested in helping. 😊

[hooked-on-elvis]

Hi!! Just wanted to leave this to ask how you are :)

How are you? You've been a bit quiet lately, of course if it's personal issues it is totally understandable but well...to just say for me at least, I've been missing your long rants about our man🥺🫶

Here's some pictures of our Pookie

Cake for dayssss😩

You're so sweet, darling. 🥹 I can't say how your DM has brighten up my day, @jhoneybees. ♥

So, I have a way in writing my posts in which I research for hours, write down my thoughts and then I go through it over and over again just to make sure there's no typos (or many) and confused info in the articles I write. I have quite a few interesting posts to share but I don't feel like sharing those drafts of mine yet because I've been dealing with a low-energy phase in my life and I can't focus for too long in a task such as writing, but I've never stopped being curious and writing about our sweet Elvis. Every little thing I learn about him I save as a draft so I can work on it when I feel like it. Little by little those posts will be finished and ready to be read, hopefully soon.

I have to say, tho, that for now I am much more into writing about Elvis' music rather than his personal life stories and other general topics on him, but someday I'll be back to sharing more books excerpts too.

To sum up, I've been quiet because I'm a little bit lazy lately. :( But I'll try to be more frequent in sharing content of my own instead of just sharing pictures of Elvis like I've doing recently. But hey, Elvis pictures are never enough, right? And damn!... those pictures you shared... 🥵

Anyway, dear, I appreciate very much you being here for a while now, for your sweet kind words and support. I've also been in debt in reading the amazing fics you write, but I try to support it whenever I see a new one being shared. Thank you, thank you, thanks a million, friend! You're the best! I hope you're doing great. ♥ ✨

[oreo-oro-orero]

Bad Ending Prelude

A bed ending excerpt for @redrum-alice dating sim au

"A Predator Lurks"

Ekko laughed, a sweet sound that you've grown attached to ever since you started to hang out with him. You couldn't help but notice that when he was around everything seemed to get so much brighter.

Ekko: "You know, I'm happy you were able to make it. usually it's just me and Jinx at these god awful pep rallies but it's nice to have another friend to share our misery with."

You chuckle and agree but a small part of you lingers on that "Friend" word. It's odd really, you didn't even realize you were falling for him that's how he gets you. Just like a sweet dessert, you take one bite and then you're hooked.

"Well..you know what they say...misery loves company"

You say as your hand slowly but surely makes its way onto his thigh. He gives you a quick smile and soon focuses his attention back on the rally.

Just then a shiver ran down your spine and you instantly recognized the feeling. It's exactly the same as when she walked you home, the darkness in her eyes, the uncaring gaze that somehow pierced your soul, the hint of pink that mixed with cold blue. She didn't say much when she was staring at you. Her hand gripping your wrist almost threatening to break it. She only said two words.

"He's Mine."

You quickly excuse yourself and make your way to the bathroom, your breath fast and nerves on edge.

You lock the stall door and calm yourself as best you can. What were you thinking? Of course she would be watching, for God sake you knew she would be. She said she wanted to go up the second level of the gym to get a better look at the rally but she....Then it hit you...this was a test...a test to see if you would take her advice. That you would stay away but you didn't. You took a bite of that dessert and now you wanted more. It was a test and you failed it with flying colors.

You steady your nerves enough to leave the stall and exit the bathroom. You'll just go home, yeah that's it. Sneak out the back of the school and run home as fast as you can. You can text Ekko and tell him you had a stomach ache an-

Jinx: "You know...I told you that you should've packed your own lunch, damn near everybody knows to bring food from home on casserole day."

Your heart stopped and that familiar feeling of dread coated your spine. There she was, standing right in front of you, leaning on the wall. Her ocean blue braids scraped the floor as she fiddled with her candy colored nails.

Jinx: "I have to say, you were getting pretty handsy with my Tuff-Tuff." Jinx said not even looking up from her nails.

"Jinx I...you know that I would never-"

Jinx: "tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk, even after we had our little talk and even after you promised that you wouldn't try any more shit, you still test your luck. I expected better from you."

Her words were cold and blunt, this was a far cry from the energy filled ball of chaos that you've grown to know

"Jinx I know I messed up but it wasn't anything like that, I swear....I...I"

You try to find your voice again but your throat has gone dry.

Jinx: "Ekko really seems to like you, so we'll just call this strike two, I'll tell him you got a bloody nose and went home."

You look at her in shock, she's...she's letting you go?

"O...okay...but my nose isn't bleeding, what am I gonna tell the teachers"

And just like that you find yourself on the ground, Jinx standing over you. You smell metal and soon a sharp pain rings throughout your face. You instinctively hold your nose as blood gushes from it and as you do you see through tears stained eyes that your blood is on Jinx's knuckles. How did she get over to you so fast? It felt like you just blinked and-.

Before you could finish your thought you felt a cold hand grab your busted nose and squeeze but before you could let out a scream, your mouth was covered by another hand. Soon you find yourself staring at eye level with those Azure eyes and that cold stare.

Jinx: "You tell them you have a broken nose silly."

Jinx says a hint of glee peaking out from the ever present coldness she's meeting you with up until now.

Jinx: "I don't like repeating myself but I'll do it anyway. I'm not going to let you take him away from me. We've already been split up before and I'll be damned if I'm going to let some wannabe street trash split us up again, he's mine mine mine mine. Do I make myself clear.

You nod your head and Jinx lets go of your broken nose and uncovers your mouth

Jinx: "Good, run along now and oh!"

Jinx goes into the bathroom and emerges with a clump of paper towels in her hand, she dumps them on you ask she walks past you to the rejoin the rally and Ekko

Jinx: "For the road. That's pretty nasty break, you should really be careful next time. Those bathroom floors are always so wet."

She says that hint of glee peaking out again. Blue braids disappear up the steps and you slowly get up and cover your nose with tissues.

"strike two...how many...how many do I have left"

[ahordeofwasps]

Find the Word Tag

I've been tagged by the terrific @autumnalwalker! Thanks for the tag! My words are even, perhaps, body, & shatter. I'll be sharing excerpts from Crying Wolf.

But first, the no pressure tags! I'll be tagging @cat-esper, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @sarandipitywrites, @notwritinganyflufftoday, and open tag! Your words are cold, bold, fold, and mold!

Now, onto Crying Wolf!

Even

So, Justine kept protecting the bad man, feeling like a toy soldier marching into oblivion. She told herself that unlike the Capital, blood wasn’t being shed. But that was a lie. Even though it was not being shed in back-alley knife fights, it was shed by empty stomachs and overworked bodies, on deathbeds occupied by the too-young.

Perhaps

Ogwut knelt down beside the one-eyed man, wondering once more if he was dying. “What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching towards the one-eyed man’s arm. Perhaps it had something to do with the missing eye? He gently grabbed his wrist, intending to pull it back so he could assess the damage. The one-eyed man stiffened and stopped convulsing as soon as Ogwut gripped his wrist. He scrambled to his feet, trying to yank himself away. “DON’T KILL ME!” he screamed. He was no longer making the strangled choking noises. In the torchlight, Ogwut could see that his face glistened with both tears and blood. His eyes widened as he realized the one-eyed man wasn’t dying at all: he was crying. He let go of his wrist. The one-eyed man fell to the ground and scrambled backwards.

Body

Standing in the doorway was not a Thing. It was a boy. He was not a normal boy. He had skin like most adolescents, but it looked like it belong to a corpse and didn’t cover his entire body, leaving his left arm and left half of his torso bare to the elements. What was bare had the familiar gleam of metal. The boy’s eyes were much like Ogwut’s: cold and glassy. From a circular wound in his right arm, strange molasses-like blood oozed.

Shatter

Jack marched into the room. The governor wrenched the drawer open, shoving his hand inside. “WHERE IS SHE?” he roared. The windows in the room shattered.

[derythcorvinus]

WIP Word Game

Rules: you will be given a word. share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

I was tagged by @wheneverfeasible . Thank you thank you! Your second snippet had me very intrigued, by the way. Anyways, the word I've been given is LURK. (Funny seeing as that's mostly what I do.)

L

Long before he’d reached the age of 25, Steve had realized that life was a bit more fun when he didn’t hold himself to the ridiculously proper standards that his parents wanted him to.

U

“Unlike you, I believe it's entirely possible for someone to have a crush on you. You're just letting your cynicism blind you, Eddie, and it's actually annoying.” Eddie sneered at the ground, head and lips moving in a way meant to mock Jeff. It was childish, sure, but it was the only way Eddie could deal with what was said. He was cynical, yes, but to hear his friend say he believed there was a chance for this note to mean something? That made Eddie's skin crawl.

R

Rainbows after the storms were always a little bit magical, even after he’d learned how they were created. Light and water. As a kid, he never thought about the scientific aspect of it. Just thought about the mythical pot of gold at the end.

K

King Steve was dead, he didn't exist any more than a fucking unicorn did, but no one wanted to believe that it was true. And, well, Steve couldn't say he really blamed them for that. For a change like that to happen so suddenly, it would have to be witnessed. But god, he was so tired of proving himself to others.

The first little snippet is actually from the WIP I'll hopefully have finished and posted sometime soon! The last two...I'm not so sure about the future of those 💀

[fractured-shield]

Writing Share Tag

thanks for the tag @finickyfelix!

I'm gonna use this to share an excerpt from ch10, which I just finished yesterday!

Therien decided she’d spent enough time on the poetry. She was wasting her time, and it hardly counted as real studying if she was only playing catch-up for her stupidity in forgetting the languages she’d been taught. She got off the sofa, taking care not to knock her mama’s shawl off its arm, and went back to the bookshelf. There was the record of Silorn’s noble houses that she’d picked up the night before, and a history of campaigns in the second Lochieru war, and another for the first. There were three books on Ilgostian law that had clearly belonged to her mother, bound in worn blue cloth, so she left them alone, because it felt like if she touched them, either they would break or she would. There was an unassuming text, bound in dull brown, that seemed to be a printed record of old military law, and then at the back a handwritten ledger of what looked like the reassignment of officers after the third Lochieru war had concluded, if she remembered her dates right. That didn’t seem right. It likely would’ve been nothing, in other circumstances, but the handwritten section seemed oddly hasty, disorganized, out of place for the tidy and well-kept shelves. Therien started flipping through the book without thinking, a moment later justifying her curiosity by telling herself it would be useful, that it counted as worthwhile because it was knowledge she could use, if she managed to keep it in her head. A folded piece of sturdy paper fell out of the book onto the threadbare grey-blue rug. It took Therien a moment to notice it as she thumbed through the pages, names of officers and nobles she recognized from history books she’d forgotten that she’d read at all until the book stirred up memories of Tarnuvin’s library tables and low light, kicking her feet under a too-tall chair. She bent to retrieve the fallen paper and opened it. It seemed very old, at least as old as the book. No, two hundred years isn’t a long time to most people in Tarnuvin, she thought bitterly, once again feeling that strange, uncomfortable barrier between her and the people she’d wanted so much to get back to. That divide hadn’t been there when she was a child. It was a letter, it seemed: written in walnut ink in a firm, slanted hand. The first section was in Ikhanan, and she cursed herself for being unable to read it, or to recognize more than just a few letters. Whoever had written it had switched to Cenaith after a few lines, though, and she started reading.

...any guesses on the letter's contents? I'll probably post it soon, it was a lot of fun to write and it's from a character whose voice I rarely get to write in

i'll tag @willtheweaver @nczaversnick @acertainmoshke @honeybewrites @leahnardo-da-veggie + an open tag for anyone who wants to join!